by Cat Cahill
He tugged on the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Puzzled, he looked closer at the handle. It didn’t appear to lock. He pulled again, and the door finally gave, flying open. He stepped inside, blinking in the dim light. The shed was larger than it had looked from outside. He strolled around the perimeter, searching for the right place. Just as he found it and had hung the saw from a little peg on the wall, the door shut and darkness enveloped the shed.
Landon spun around. From somewhere in the vicinity of the door, he could hear someone breathing. “Who’s there?” he called into the dark.
“It’s me, Elizabeth Campbell. I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone was in here.”
Landon wasn’t certain how it was possible, but he felt relieved and anxious at the same time. Of all the people who might wander into a shed filled with tools, Mrs. Campbell would have been the last person he expected. He could hear her tugging at the door.
“It won’t open,” she said.
“Here, let me get it. It sticks.” He felt his way across the shed, brushing against her when he had apparently reached the door.
She stepped backward in a hurry. “I shouldn’t have closed it. I didn’t realize there were no windows.”
Landon grunted his assent. All of his effort was going into pulling on the door handle, but the blasted thing wouldn’t budge. He stopped for a moment, caught his breath, and tried again. Finally, after several minutes had passed, he turned and leaned against the door.
“Are we shut in here?” Elizabeth asked in a small voice.
He could just make out where she was standing, the faintest outlines of her darker shadow against that of the rest of the shed. “For now.”
“We can’t be. I’ll be missed. And—and—it’s freezing in here.” She rubbed her hands up and down the sleeves that covered her arms.
“Why on earth would you come outside without a coat?” Although he’d seen her coat, and it wasn’t even remotely warm enough for winter in this valley.
“I thought I’d only be out here for a few minutes. The spare cloak in the kitchen was gone, and I thought . . . I thought . . .” She trailed off, shivering.
Landon grumbled under his breath. He’d never heard anything so foolish in his life. But he shrugged out of his own coat and held it out to her. “Here.”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly.”
“Quit arguing and put it on.”
“But you’ll freeze without it.” She dropped her gaze to the coat.
“I’ll live. But you might not.” It might have seen better days, but it was warm, which was the only thing that mattered in this weather.
She pushed her lips together and he half expected her to argue again. But she didn’t. Instead, she took a couple of steps forward, and then turned around, pushing her arms into the sleeves.
“Thank you,” she said as she turned around.
The sleeves dangled far past her hands, and the coat swallowed her whole. A rumpled angel. Landon couldn’t help it—he laughed.
She smiled. “Do I look that ridiculous?”
“You look . . .” He didn’t dare finish the sentence. Instead, he turned back to the door. Pulling on it was getting them nowhere. There had to be some other way.
“I didn’t mean to come in here,” Mrs. Campbell said. “The other girls sent me in search of spare silverware, and I looked in all the closets I found in the hotel, so I came out here and . . .”
“And you expected to find silverware in a shed?”
She pulled his coat tighter around herself. “I didn’t. I just didn’t know where else to look. I feel as if all I do is ask questions, so I thought that maybe, for once, I could do something without needing to run back and ask for more direction. And now look what I’ve done.”
Landon felt the strangest desire to gather her into his arms and assure her it would all be fine. But instead he tugged uselessly on the door again. “We’ll either figure a way out or someone will come looking for you.”
“They can’t.” Her voice squeaked just a little.
“Why wouldn’t they? You said yourself that you’ll be missed.”
“No, it’s that I’ll be in so much trouble if I’m found here.”
He cocked his head, puzzled.
“With you,” she added in a whisper.
“Ah.” That made sense. Too much sense. “You couldn’t possibly be found alone with someone like me. I understand.”
“No, you don’t—”
“I’ve heard enough. I’m good enough to do little chores for you, but too rough to spend time with.” Fire pinched at his insides, dousing the hurt with anger that he’d kept bottled up for over a year. “I know how this works. I’ve done it before, believe it or not.”
“What do you mean? I think you misunderstand—”
“I misunderstand nothing.” He yanked harder at the handle, which began to splinter into his hand. He barely even felt it. All those feelings he’d pushed aside when Aimee turned down his proposal boiled up and over. “For someone without a penny to her name, you act awful high and mighty.”
“How dare you!” Her words lashed out at him, so fast and ferocious that he took a step back from the door. “You don’t know me. You don’t know where I’ve come from or what I’ve lived through. And I did not mean anything so cruel when I said I couldn’t be caught here with you. If you’d have let me speak, you’d know I must follow the rules of the hotel. And those rules include not spending time alone with a man. Any man. If we’re found here, I could lose the position I don’t even fully have yet. I need the wages I’m going to earn, since I am, as you so kindly pointed out, penniless.”
She’d stepped closer and closer as she spoke until she was but a few inches from him. He had to look down to see her face. Even in the shadows, it was clear her angel face had gone red. She glared at him now, her hands on her hips and her breath coming fast.
Landon swallowed, all of his own anger vanished in the heat of hers. He didn’t think she had such fury in her. “I misspoke.”
“Hmmph,” was the only sound she made in reply.
“I . . . apologize.” The word scraped at his throat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d apologized to anyone.
She glared at him.
He threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know what else to say.”
“How about you think before you assume the worst about someone in the future?” she said, her face still turned up and glaring at him. He wanted more than anything to run a finger down her cheek and watch her frown disappear.
Where had that thought come from? He took a step back from her before his mind left him completely. There was something she’d said, though, that bothered him. “What did you mean by ‘what I’ve lived through’?”
She stood there a moment, and then her hands slowly drifted from her hips and her face took on a haunted look. “It’s nothing.”
And darned if that didn’t make him even more curious. “You know why I’m here. Tell me, why are you? What made you come to a hotel in the middle of this valley, miles and miles from any real town?” He gestured around him, even though they couldn’t see the valley inside this shed.
She wrapped her arms around herself and studied him a moment before speaking. “I came to find my brother. I had nowhere to go after I was widowed.”
“And did you find him?”
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
Silence settled between them. This wasn’t the first time she’d mentioned being a widow, but the way she said it . . . it was as if it was an event that had happened to someone else. As if she held no emotion about it at all. He didn’t know what to think of that.
“He’s supposed to be on his way back here,” she said. “I don’t know if he’ll be happy to see me.”
Landon furrowed his brow. He couldn’t imagine anyone being unhappy to see her. “I doubt that, Elizabeth.”
Her eyes widened and the ghost of a smile crossed her lips, so quickly he thought
he might have imagined it. “What did you call me?”
Too late, he’d realized his mistake. He should regret it. It was too familiar. It drew him that much closer to her. It would make it infinitely harder for him to make the decision he knew he needed to. He should apologize—again—and take it back.
But he didn’t want to.
“Elizabeth suits you better than Mrs. Campbell,” he said.
She ran her hands up and down her arms again, over his coat. Landon no longer felt the cold. Elizabeth lit up the entire room with warmth. Or perhaps he was delirious with fever. That certainly made more sense than anything else he’d done or thought or said today.
“We should try the door again,” she said.
It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he obliged her and pulled on the handle again.
It opened immediately—to a person standing in the doorway.
Chapter Nine
Elizabeth gasped as Mr. Cooper stumbled backward. She blinked at the light from outside, but she could see well enough to recognize Genia. The relief that shot through her was so strong she thought she might crumple to the ground.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re here,” Genia said. “We couldn’t imagine where you’d gotten off to. Why did you come to the—” She stopped speaking the second her eyes landed on Mr. Cooper. “Oh.”
“This isn’t . . . It isn’t . . .” Elizabeth rushed out the door to Genia, her heart thumping in time to her pounding feet. “Please don’t say anything to Mrs. Ruby. It was an accident. I didn’t know Mr. Cooper was here, and I shut the door, and it refused to open again. I would never . . . Please don’t say anything.”
Genia’s eyes were wide as she looked between Elizabeth and Mr. Cooper.
“She speaks the truth,” he said, stepping out into the snow. “If you ladies will excuse me.” And just like that, he was gone.
Elizabeth stared after him. What sort of man vanished like that, leaving a woman to defend herself alone?
“He’s quite handsome. Hasn’t he been eating at the counter?” Genia watched as Mr. Cooper disappeared into the hotel.
“Yes. And no. I mean, yes. He’s utterly infuriating. And entirely without manners.” Elizabeth crossed her arms.
Genia smiled. “And yet he gave you his coat. How unmannerly.”
Elizabeth glanced down and groaned. She was still in the man’s coat.
“Have no fear, your secret is safe with me.” Genia pinched the fabric of the dirt-stained coat between her fingers. “However, you may want to take that off before we go back inside. Else Mrs. Ruby won’t know what to think.”
Elizabeth pulled Mr. Cooper’s coat off. She immediately regretted it. Not only did the freezing air bite right through her dress, it felt as if he’d gone forever.
She held the coat out to Genia, who shook her head. “Oh, no. Returning that is all your responsibility. As much as I might like the excuse to talk to a cowboy like him, I don’t think it’s me he much cares to speak with.”
Elizabeth sighed and held the coat to herself. Of course, now that Genia had mentioned it, she was looking forward to giving this coat back to him. And yet, she was still angry with him.
How was that possible?
They entered the hotel through the hallway door, which made it easy for Elizabeth to hide Mr. Cooper’s coat in the laundry room before returning to the lunch counter. Genia agreed to tell Mrs. Ruby that Elizabeth had been found.
Settling herself behind the lunch counter, which was beginning to fill with men who wanted dinner, Elizabeth tried to rein in her thoughts. If Mr. Cooper—Landon, she supposed she should call him, although that would be admitting she desired to get to know him better—came in here for his own meal while she was working, she might burst from the confusion that clouded her mind.
She managed to greet customers and take their orders. She even laughed and talked with the ones she was learning preferred conversation. It took her mind off Landon—who never came in to eat. By the end of the dinner shift, her feet hurt, her back ached, and she was smiling as she’d never smiled before.
As she wiped down the lunch counter, she realized it was because she enjoyed this work. It was hard, but she fit in here. She was more at ease in this hotel than she’d ever been in the mining camp. She was making friends.
She wanted to stay. That meant no more putting this job at risk for a cowboy who expected the worst of her, no matter how many pine boughs he hung for her or coats he lent her.
LATER THAT NIGHT, ELIZABETH slipped quietly into the room she shared with Sarah, Landon’s coat balled up in her arms.
“Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth leaned her head against the door. She’d hoped Sarah would be asleep, as she had been by this time each night since Elizabeth had arrived. Sarah ignited the lamp, and as it flickered to life, Elizabeth turned to find her roommate sitting up in bed.
“Why are you coming in so late?” Sarah asked as she squinted at Elizabeth. “And what do you have in your hands? Are those dirty linens?”
“I . . . no.” Elizabeth forced her feet to move toward the small wardrobe in the closet. “It’s a coat. I found it. Downstairs.”
“Who does it belong to?”
“I’m not certain.” Elizabeth’s face flamed as she spoke the lie. It was for her own good, she reminded herself as she pushed Landon’s coat in the corner of the wardrobe. She’d done nothing wrong by going to the shed, but Sarah, as head waitress, might feel compelled to inform Mrs. Ruby. She’d return the coat to Landon tomorrow, and no one aside from Genia would be any the wiser.
“Why did you bring it up here? You could’ve left it at the front desk for its owner to claim it.”
Elizabeth took a deep breath and turned to face Sarah, who had unbraided her hair only to replait it. “You’re right. I didn’t know what to do with it, but I’ll bring it down in the morning.”
“How are you finding the lunch counter?” Sarah smiled at Elizabeth as she tied the ends of her hair again.
Thankful for the change in subject, Elizabeth forced herself to breathe and moved to untie her apron. “It’s busy, but I enjoy it. I never realized how much I like being occupied.”
Sarah leaned forward eagerly. “May I share a secret with you?”
Elizabeth paused, wondering what sort of secret Sarah might have. She hung her apron as she considered it. “Certainly,” she finally said.
“Mrs. Ruby told me she has high hopes for you. Apparently your work at the lunch counter has impressed her. You might find yourself moving to the dining room come January.” Sarah wrapped her arms around her knees and grinned at Elizabeth.
“She said that?” The news was startling enough to remove Landon from Elizabeth’s thoughts for the first time since she’d finished the dinner service.
“She did.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I can hardly believe it. I never thought I’d be working here, much less doing so successfully.” She sat at the dressing table to take down her hair.
“Don’t let on that I told you, though,” Sarah said, inching back down under the bedcovers.
“I won’t say a word.” Elizabeth glanced at her roommate, wondering at how lucky she was to not only have found work here that she enjoyed, but friends too. She hadn’t had a real friend in years, not since Colette at the ranch. “Thank you.”
“I’ll leave the lamp on,” Sarah said in a drowsy voice.
Elizabeth turned back to the small mirror that sat on the vanity and unpinned the small gray hat that sat at the crown of her head. As she pulled it away, she studied her face and wondered how Landon saw her. He was awfully quick to assume she thought so little of him. What had he said? He’d “done this before,” whatever that meant. Her only guess was that a woman had spurned him in the past. It had touched a nerve. The heat of his anger could have seared her in the cold air of the shed. He’d apologized, for which she was grateful, but it was hard to shake such a reaction. She’d spent too many years dodging that exact sort o
f rage from Colin.
Colin had never apologized.
Elizabeth paused in the middle of removing a pin from her hair. Landon had done the one thing Colin never had. Did that make it any different? People got angry from time to time, the sensible part of herself thought. It was how they handled that anger that mattered. Colin had thrown things and said terrible words to her before storming out into the night. Landon had done nothing like that.
Still, it made her nervous. It all made her uneasy, everything from the way he looked at her to how much she looked forward to returning his coat. She could make all the resolutions she wanted here in her room, alone but for Sarah.
But somehow, she doubted she’d remain true to them tomorrow.
Chapter Ten
Landon stood in the hotel lobby, choking on how much Christmas was all around him. Elizabeth had been busy since he’d last seen her yesterday afternoon. He’d made himself scarce, forgoing meals and eating the usual foods he’d brought for his ride to Cañon City. He was supposed to be there in two days, and yet here he was, still at this hotel.
And now he was surrounded by an entire forest of pine, more red velvet than he’d ever seen in his life, festive berries, gold doodads that hung from every bough, and even a few ribbons that dangled from the front desk. All that was missing was a tree.
He expected it all to press in on him, making it hard to breathe, but it didn’t. Instead, he found himself smiling like a man who’d gone daft in the head, as memories of his mother and the ranch where he’d grown up flooded his mind. He could see it like it was yesterday. The way the family they’d worked for invited all the servants and ranch hands into the house for Christmas dinner, how they’d taken special care to ensure that he was included with their own children on Christmas morning, how his mother had enjoyed watching him open gifts.
A strange sort of missing enveloped him from head to toe. He hadn’t had family since he was sixteen, when his mother died and he went off to work on another ranch. Since then, there had been no Christmas dinners, no gifts, and certainly no trees. But it wasn’t the lack of those things that caused this feeling—it was the spirit of it all. The joy and laughter, the warmth and the love of family. The pang of it wrenched his heart open, and he had to look away from the decorations.
