by Pam Crooks
“Ellie!”
Eleanora froze at the voice. The name. No one called her Ellie anymore. No one but—
Her fingers flew to her mouth. She spun on the boardwalk with a gasp, throwing her gaze back toward the Wells Fargo platform. A woman bounced on tiptoe, her arm raised in an exuberant wave.
“Ellie, it’s me,” she called.
Eleanora’s skin chilled. Her pulse pounded. Her heart soared in recognition.
“Grace,” she whispered.
Oh, Grace!
Crying out, Eleanora lifted her skirts and ran across Front Street again, without a care to the wagon and its team rumbling toward her. She squealed from the delight of seeing her older sister and the sheer unexpectedness of it.
The pure, unadulterated joy.
Grace squealed, too, opened her arms wide, and Eleanora fell into her embrace.
Chapter 13
Hearing screams, Reed’s blood froze in his veins.
Definitely a woman’s, and damned if they didn’t sound like Eleanora. Might be he was living out his worst nightmare, but anything could’ve happened to her. What if she’d been struck by a horse? Attacked by a thief? Accosted by a drunk right out of the saloon?
He bolted off his seat and leapt to the ground, startling the stagecoach driver still standing by the door. He sprinted past a huddle of passengers lingering on the platform and raced toward Front Street.
Then stopped dead in his tracks.
There was Eleanora, crossing the street with another woman, their arms locked around one another. Neither were screaming, but laughing and happy and well, hell.
She was just fine.
Better than when he’d told her good-bye, in fact.
He blew out a breath of relief. He lifted his bowler, raked his fingers through his hair and settled the hat back into place. He didn’t know who the woman was, but obviously she was a good friend. Maybe even a family member.
Someone special, for sure.
He frowned. He shouldn’t want to know who the woman was. It shouldn’t matter that she’d given Eleanora so much joy. He just cut ties with her minutes ago, hadn’t he? Left her for good so he could start a new career in Washington, D.C.?
Trouble was, he did want to know. He wanted to be part of that happiness. In spite of his failure with Mortimer Crane, Reed still needed to make her life perfect.
“Hey, mister. Stage is ready to leave. Best come aboard, or we’re leavin’ without you.”
Reed turned toward the burly stagecoach driver. Words to agree refused to leave his mouth. His feet remained planted on the ground. A battle of want versus should waged in his brain.
Until he surrendered, and stark realization set in. Leave Eleanora? Wildcat Ridge? Tessa, or even Mortimer Crane to abandon the case he’d come here to win?
He couldn’t leave.
Not yet.
“I’ve changed my mind,” he said.
“You sayin’ you’re not comin’ with us?” the driver demanded.
“Yes, sir. Staying in town awhile longer.”
Maybe forever, if things worked his way.
The driver scrubbed a meaty hand over his face. Heaving an exasperated sigh, he spun on a boot heel and headed back toward the stagecoach. “Well, come on then. Let’s get your baggage unloaded. I haven’t got all day.”
Reed grinned. Been awhile since he’d felt this good, and he hurried to lend a hand.
“Mama, I so glad Aunt Grace is here,” Tessa said, holding the last piece of her sugar doughnut between two sticky fingers.
“Because she buys you treats from the Sugar and Spice?” Eleanora asked, rising from her chair in the kitchen to dampen a washcloth.
“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging.
“I think it’s because she came a long way to see us, and that makes you and me both happy.”
“Uh-huh. And ’cuz you missed her.”
Eleanora exchanged a fond smile with her sister, sitting at the table, too. Grace had never seen her only niece until today, a reality they both lamented many times since Tessa was born. Left nearly destitute after she lost her own husband two years previous, Grace had taken on the responsibility of caring for her widowed mother-in-law in Denver, which prevented her from traveling to Utah Territory. The money Eleanora needed to spend on the long trip to Colorado seemed extravagant, the prospect of traveling alone with a young child daunting, and since Darvin had no interest in taking time away from the mine to accompany her, the journey simply didn’t happen.
“I missed your mama and you, too,” Grace said, tweaking Tessa’s nose. “But I’m going to stay here, maybe for a long time. Is that all right with you?”
Tessa nodded. “Do you like to play marbles? I have some. You want to play with me?”
“I would love to,” Grace said, her dark eyes twinkling. “Go get them, and we’ll play outside on the boardwalk.”
“Okay.”
Face and fingers cleaned of their sugariness, Tessa slid off the chair and ran into their room. Eleanora stacked plates emptied of their doughnuts but didn’t carry them to the basin. She’d rather spend a little more time at the table with her sister. She took Grace’s hand into her own. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”
“I knew from your letters something wasn’t right.”
“I tried to keep from letting on how awful life had gotten after the mine explosions. Guess I didn’t do a good job of it, did I?”
“I read between the lines, Ellie. I had to come out here to help you. I couldn’t stay away.”
“How did you manage it? Leaving Denver couldn’t have been easy.”
“I sold some of my jewelry and my best dresses. My mother-in-law is demanding and selfish, and I needed to get away from her. My worry for you gave me the perfect opportunity to come here.” She drew back and studied Eleanora’s right hand, smoothing the scarred skin carefully. “You’ve endured so much already.”
Grace had been appalled when she learned about the badger attack. She’d been sympathetic about the disfigurement, too, but spared Eleanora any sign of pity. Her sister’s no-nonsense attitude and acceptance of the situation certainly gave Eleanora a different perspective and encouraged her to do the same. After all, the incident had been out of her control. The main thing was her hand was healing, getting stronger every day, and if she did her therapy, she’d have full use of it.
Tessa bounded back into the kitchen, holding a small cotton bag containing her marbles. “Can we play now, Aunt Grace? Can we?”
“Of course, we can.” Grace released Eleanora’s hand and stood. “If your mama doesn’t mind washing these dishes without us.”
“You go right ahead.” Eleanora took the plates to the basin. “But be warned. She’ll want to consume every minute of your time if you let her.”
“I’ll treasure each one.” She stroked Tessa’s hair. “We’ve got three years to make up for, don’t we?”
The pair walked hand in hand out of the kitchen and across the lobby to the outside, and Eleanora warmed at the sight. Her sister was already showing signs of being a doting aunt, and having her here shined a much-needed light in Eleanora’s life.
But only moments later, the hotel door banged again. Tessa ran into the kitchen, her blue eyes wide and amazed.
“Mama! Mr. Shannon’s here,” she announced.
Eleanora’s dishwashing halted. She twisted toward her daughter. “What? Mr. Shannon? Here?”
“Uh-huh.” Tessa turned and ran back out again.
Eleanora didn’t move. Her mind scrambled to make sense of it, and then, there he was, tall and lean and so incredibly handsome, her eyes filled, and she choked back a gasp.
He strode toward her in that agile, lithe way of his. Smooth and controlled. In no hurry. He kept coming until he stood directly in front of her.
Her breath caught. Her head tilted back, her gaze fixed on his. He placed his hands on both sides of her face, lowered his head and took her lips to his with excruciating ten
derness, kissing her again and again until the kisses turned harder, deeper, and the flare of passion burned hot between them.
Somewhere, in the deepest part of her comprehension, came the sound of Tessa’s voice with curious questions, and then Grace’s hushing her, until muted footsteps died away, and Eleanora and Reed were alone again.
His mouth dragged off hers but only to nuzzle the sensitive skin behind her ear.
“I couldn’t stay away, my sweet,” he murmured. “I didn’t want to leave you.”
Of their own accord, her arms circled around to his back, and she pressed into him, not wanting to let him go ever again.
“I didn’t want you to,” she whispered, every sense alive from his touch.
“If I left, I would have failed you.”
“No. You did what you could in the time you had.”
“I want to do more, Eleanora. I need to right the wrongs against you.”
“But, your job.” Her eyes opened. Only now did she think of it. “You’ll likely lose the new position if you don’t go to Washington.”
“The position isn’t mine yet.”
“But you were to interview for it, and surely, they would have hired you, and—”
He drew back and laid a finger on her lips, still wet and swollen from his kisses. “I know what I want, my sweet.”
She eyed him doubtfully. “It’s a wonderful opportunity for you. You can’t just walk away.”
“I’ve wired the senator. We’ll see what he says. I’ll make a final decision after I hear from him.”
“I’m worried for you.”
“I’m not.” He smiled. “Can I have my old room back?”
“Of course.”
“I want to meet your sister.”
“I’ll introduce you.”
“It’s been years since I’ve played a game of marbles, too.”
Laughing softly, she tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow, and they strolled together outside.
Chapter 14
Eleanora sat at the hotel desk and cupped her chin in the palm of her hand. The paper in front of her was as clean and white as fresh fallen snow. No matter how hard she stared, no matter how hard she thought, she simply had no ideas to write down.
Time was running out. The Fourth of July celebration was only a few days away, and she wasn’t nearly ready yet. Hester was getting nervous, so were the rest of the widows on her committee, and that all but put Eleanora into the throes of a panic.
Grace pulled up a chair and sat next to her. “You’re looking pretty serious, Ellie.”
“I’m frustrated.”
“It shows.”
“I have to come up with something fun for this silly scavenger hunt, and I can’t think of a thing.”
“Hmmm. Have you thought about going to different businesses and soliciting a few prizes?”
“Of course. But what business in Wildcat Ridge would have something special that a winner would want? Who could afford to give away their merchandise, anyway?”
“I don’t know. A glass vase wouldn’t cost too much, would it? Or a small piece of jewelry, maybe?”
“The widows are more practical than that. What if a man won? What would he do with a vase or new piece of jewelry?”
“Maybe you could go to Salt Lake City and ask for donations there.”
Eleanora’s eyes widened. The prospect all but made her nauseous. “I will do no such thing.”
“All right. Here’s another idea.” Grace re-settled in her chair. “Maybe you could organize a bake sale, and the proceeds could go to the winner.”
“Grace.” Eleanora could barely hide her exasperation. “I don’t want the widows to help pay for this scavenger hunt. They’re barely getting along financially as it is.”
Her sister tsked with her tongue. “Every idea I give you, you whisk away like dirt under a rug.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, but I’m almost out of time. Which is why I’m frustrated because I can’t figure this out.”
“Hmmm.” Grace drummed her fingers on the desk top.
Eleanora doodled in one corner of the paper.
Moments of more frustration passed.
“Mayor Fugit expects me to come up with something fun for everyone,” Eleanora muttered. “But what fun is a game if only one person wins?”
Grace regarded her. “That’s usually how it works, Ellie.”
“I wish it could be more.” Eleanora nibbled on the end of her pencil. “Something that would get everyone excited. Something the entire town would want so they’d all participate. A hunt with lots of winners.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s a problem.” Grace nodded, her expression serious.
“Exactly.”
“Well, I give up. You’ll figure out something.” She stood. “Have you asked Reed for ideas?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. He knows I must plan the scavenger hunt, but I’m not going to involve him if I can help it. He’s been working hard on other things.”
“Other things.” Grace rolled her eyes. “Like justice for Mortimer Crane?”
“It’s not impossible.” She hesitated. “Just difficult.”
“Well, Reed is persevering, if nothing else, but the whole thing seems hopeless to me. Crane is a wretch.”
Eleanora swallowed down agreement. For almost three weeks now, Reed had been sending letters back and forth to his fellow lawyers at the Miners Association in Denver, countless wires to who knew where, was gone hours out of each day doing who knew what, and well, it was never-ending.
Perseverance for the widows, at its finest.
After it was all over? When Reed had run out of options and strategy? If no settlement could be won from Mortimer Crane, what then? Would he return to Washington, D.C.?
He hadn’t indicated as much, but why wouldn’t he? They both knew there was nothing for him here in Wildcat Ridge. His talent and abilities would be better served in the nation’s capital city, otherwise they’d wither, and what a shame that would be.
“I promised Tessa I’d take her to pick wildflowers on the edge of town,” Grace said, glancing through the window at Tessa, playing with her doll on the wooden bench. “Would you like to join us? The walk would do you good.”
“I can’t leave.”
Rarely did she these days, anyway. More guests were staying at the Crane Hotel since Buster Odell had sponsored a horse auction in town, even though Mortimer raised the rates for the buyers. She was busier than she’d ever been since being forced into management of the hotel.
“We won’t be gone too long, then,” Grace said and left.
Self-pity rolled through Eleanora. There was nothing more she’d like to do than take a leisurely stroll outside and breathe in the scent of summer grass and wind blowing through flowers. She certainly did not want to have to sit here and plan a stupid scavenger hunt.
Emitting a miserable groan, she rose from the desk and headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and a big slice of chocolate cake.
Reed’s heels struck a brisk staccato on the boardwalk as he hurried toward Hester Fugit’s office. He’d traveled Front Street so often these past few weeks, he could walk blindfolded and know each place of business just by the way they smelled and sounded. He knew the layout of every block and alley beyond, too. He knew the owners of the establishments, and they knew him. Waves came easy and often.
The familiarity felt good. Satisfying. He never thought it’d happen, but he’d become cocooned in small town life. Surrounded by the folks who respected him. Accustomed to a simpler way of living.
Of course, Mortimer Crane was a black cloud over all that goodness, but Reed was doing all he could to change that. The papers under his arm fluttered in the late morning breeze, but he held them tight against him. He wasn’t going to lose a single sheet. He’d waited too long for this day and for the man who arrived in Wildcat Ridge to meet with him, especially.
He c
rossed the road and walked right into the mayor’s office. He should have been surprised to find Hester on her knees with long strips of red, white and blue fabric spread along the length of the room. But, he wasn’t. That’s just the way life was in Wildcat Ridge.
She glanced up and managed a crooked smile around the pins tucked in the corner of her mouth. “Morning, Reed.”
“Hester.” He inclined his head and halted, not wanting to step on any of that fabric. “What’re you making?”
“Bunting. We’re going to put it along our new-built stage on the Fourth.”
“That’ll look real nice,” he said. “The folks you have lined up to give speeches will appreciate your trouble.”
Hester sat back on her heels and took the pins from her mouth. “Eleanora got the scavenger hunt figured out yet?”
He frowned. “Not yet.”
“She’s running out of time, Reed. Wouldn’t be like her not to get it finished, but I’m getting worried.”
“It’s a big project. She’ll figure it out.”
He’d have to sit down with her tonight and help her come up with a plan for the game. Two heads were better than one, and he’d always enjoyed an exchange of ideas. From the day Hester dropped the scavenger hunt in Eleanora’s lap, Eleanora had fretted over it. She had the whole town depending on her. He wanted to keep her from being too overwhelmed.
And yep, time was running out.
“Owen is in the spare office. I’ll try to keep my sewing quiet for you two.”
Owen? Seemed Hester and Cornelius Vaile were on better terms than he realized. That she called him by his nickname showed a friendship had flourished between them for sure.
He stepped around the fabric, avoided a sewing machine and knocked on a plain wooden door. A male voice beckoned, and a sudden sensation of teetering on the edge of a cliff reared up and stuck in Reed’s throat. If this meeting failed, if the man he needed more than any other in his fight against Mortimer Crane didn’t agree to his plan, the past weeks would be a waste of time and effort.
