Gift of Hope

by Shanna Hatfield

  He’d been so relieved she agreed to accept the meat. If he was willing to admit it, he was also quite pleased when she invited him to stay for supper. She fried thick venison steaks and served them with potatoes fried in the grease with onions.

  Grady produced the loaf of bread, cookies, and apples he’d brought along. He’d forgotten about the sandwiches and meat pies the cook had packed for him, but intended to leave them behind for Mrs. DeVille and the children to enjoy.

  “We aren’t taking your food,” Mrs. DeVille said, pushing the things he’d set on the table toward him. Her eyes stayed focused on the apples, though. He could see the longing in the amber depths for them.

  “We’ve got barrels of apples up at the mine. Too bad you don’t want these. They’re likely too bruised to eat, anyway,” he said. With an indifferent shrug, he picked one up and tossed it into the air, aware all three members of the DeVille family watched the red orb. “Reckon Custer won’t care if the apple isn’t first rate.”

  “You’re going to feed those to your horse?” Mrs. DeVille sounded incensed as she spoke. “Surely you wouldn’t waste a perfectly good apple like that.”

  “Oh, but I would,” Grady said, holding the apple out toward her again. “Unless you know someone who’d like it.”

  She snatched it from his hand, picked up the other two, and set them far out of his reach near her sink.

  He ducked his head to hide his grin and lifted Gwennie as she leaned against his knee.

  The little girl refused to move from her spot nestled against his chest, even as they ate the meal. Grady didn’t mind. It felt good to have the child snuggled right up against his heart.

  In the past, he’d never given a thought to a family of his own. Only recently had he begun to think of settling down, and that was mostly because Ethel was just so darn pretty.

  “Pretty is as pretty does.”

  His mother’s words echoed in his head. Well, if his mother was alive, she would have called him a blithering dolt for letting a girl like Ethel Hobken turn his head. Ethel was young, haughty, and selfish. In a few years, the beauty she flaunted would start to fade. Grady could see now that Ethel was vain and full of herself. Nothing about her, not her mind nor her heart, was what he’d want in a spouse.

  Why, then, had he been so eager to ask her to be his wife?

  Maybe it was because he was finally ready to start thinking about his future and sharing it with someone. But he didn’t want to share it with just anyone. Certainly not someone like Ethel Hobken.

  No, he wanted someone kind and caring, who thought of others, who wasn’t full of vanity and false airs. His gaze settled on Mrs. DeVille across the table as she cut Matty’s steak into small pieces. Despite her beauty, which was breath-stealing, she was what he suddenly realized he wanted in a wife. Only, perhaps one not quite so stubborn.

  Besides, for all he knew, her husband could traipse through the door at any moment. If it was Grady, he wouldn’t like coming home to find another man at his table with his little girl sitting contentedly on his lap.

  Then again, he would never abandon his wife and family as Rocco DeVille had apparently done. Grady intended to find out where the man had disappeared to, even if he had to enlist the help of Sheriff Tully Barrett to do it.

  After finishing the meal, he offered to help with the dishes, but Mrs. DeVille refused.

  “If you’re heading back to the mine tonight, you best get on with it,” she said, tipping her head toward the window. “It’s already almost dark out and the temperature is sure to keep dropping.”

  She was right on both counts. It was nearly dark out and he could feel the cold seeping through the cracks in the chinking of her cabin. He wasn’t sure how he’d convince her to let him do it, but he fully intended to fix those cracks and the leak in her roof soon.

  For now, though, he knew he’d pushed her pride about as far as she could handle for one day.

  “You should take this,” she said, handing him the box of chocolates he’d left that morning. It hadn’t been opened.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” he said, opening the box and hunkering down so Matty and Gwennie could look at the chocolates. “Which one do you think would be the tastiest morsel?” he asked the children, although his gaze locked on Mrs. DeVille’s tempting lips. In spite of her frown, they still appeared entirely kissable. Far too kissable if the tingle of his mouth and the increasing desire to taste her lips was any indication.

  “That one,” Matty said, pointing to a piece of candy in the center of the box.

  “Have at it.” Grady held the box out to the little boy. Not to be left out, Gwennie snatched one and stared at it. “Go on, sweetie. Take a bite,” he said, motioning for her to taste it.

  “You take one, too, Mr. Gaffney,” Matty said, still holding the treat in his fingers.

  “Which one should I choose?” he asked, pretending to look over the selections.

  “That one,” Matty said, pointing to the largest piece of candy in the box.

  Grady lifted it out then set the box on the table. “Shall we take a bite on the count of three?”

  Matty and Gwennie both nodded their heads in agreement.

  “One, two, three!” Grady lifted the chocolate to his mouth and took a small bite, more interested in the looks on the children’s faces as they ate their candy than eating the sweet. He had to guess it was the first taste of chocolate Gwennie had experienced. Her eyes twinkled in delight and she greedily shoved the rest of the candy into her mouth.

  Grady chuckled and ruffled Matty’s hair when he did the same as his sister. He turned to Mrs. DeVille and held out the piece he’d taken a bite from to her lips.

  “No, thank you,” she said, attempting to appear indifferent.

  “Oh, just give it a try,” he said, making sure he blew a chocolate-scented breath her way. She stiffened and started to turn away, but Matty grabbed her hand.

  “Please try it, Mamma. It tastes so good.” Her little boy gazed up at her with a pleading look.

  “Very well,” she said with a beleaguered sigh. She reached for the candy, but Grady had no intention of relinquishing it. Instead, he held it to her mouth again, lightly brushing it across her plump bottom lip.

  Her gaze clashed with his and he felt something shift inside him. Something unexpected and monumental. She opened her mouth and he gave her the bite, acutely aware of the feel of her soft lips as they touched his finger. He felt as though he’d dipped his hand into a bucket of hot coals as heat seared up his arm. His reaction was unsettling, something he’d never experienced.

  And because he’d seemingly misplaced his good sense as of late, he couldn’t help but long to experience it again.

  Before he did something completely stupid like wrap his arm around Mrs. DeVille’s waist and pull her to him for a kiss, he stepped back and reached for his coat. “I better get going. You two youngsters mind your mama and stay out of trouble.”

  “Will you come back to see us again?” Matty asked imploringly, staring up at Grady as he shrugged into his coat and wrapped the scarf around his neck.

  “I reckon I’ll be back before too long, now that I know where to find you.” He swooped Gwennie up and kissed her rosy cheek then set her down before he turned toward Mrs. DeVille. As though she feared he’d do the same thing to her, she backed up until she collided with the sink.

  Grady couldn’t help but grin as he tugged on his gloves then picked up his hat. “Thank you for that fine supper, Mrs. DeVille.”

  “You’re welcome. Thank you for the meat. Are you sure you don’t want to take it with you?”

  “I have no use for it, so you keep it. Use it. Enjoy it.” He moved toward the door then glanced back at her. “It wouldn’t be any trouble at all to bring a team and help you get into town. If you want to do that, let me know. I could even be here in the morning with the horses if you want.”

  “I… um…” She appeared at a complete loss for words as she gaped at him. “Not
yet, but thank you for the offer.”

  “Well, the offer stands anytime you’re ready.” He opened the door and stepped out into the cold. “Be safe and stay warm.”

  “You do the same,” she said, moving to stand in the doorway with the children pressed against her skirts. The light from inside glowed around them, making Grady long to step back inside and stay with them a while longer.

  He lifted a hand in parting then hurried out to Custer. All the way back to the mine, he lambasted himself for getting involved with another woman when he’d promised himself he’d stay away from them for a good long while.

  “I’m a lunkheaded fool, Custer. That’s all there is to it,” he said as they neared the mine. “For all I know, she’s still married.”

  He vowed to discover the truth about Rocco DeVille.

  Chapter Four

  Gia sighed and rolled onto her side, careful not to disturb her sleeping children. She winced when Gwennie’s little foot delivered a hard kick to her side and scooted toward the edge of the bed. The child was as wild in her sleep as she was during waking hours.

  Often, Matty grumbled about Gwennie kicking him at night. The boy had good reason for his complaints. Her tiny daughter could give a mule lessons when it came to kicking.

  If life was perfect, her children would be sleeping snugly tucked into their own beds in their own rooms. But life wasn’t perfect. It was messy and chaotic, and sometimes just downright hard. Lately, it had all seemed so overwhelmingly impossible, so fraught with worry, and doubt, and fears. And so lonely. So unbelievably, impossibly, heart-achingly lonely.

  Then Graydon Gaffney appeared out of the blinding snowstorm and gave her something she’d lost weeks ago—hope.

  He’d given her hope and for that she would be forever in his debt, forever grateful.

  Finally, Gia had accepted the idea Rocco would never return. However, Mr. Gaffney, Grady as she’d come to think of him, had restored her hope that things could get better, that she and the children would survive if not thrive.

  She’d almost taken Grady up on his offer to come back tomorrow with horses that could haul her wagon down the mountain to town. But a part of Gia that was inordinately stubborn refused to go. Not just yet. On the very slim chance that Rocco was still alive, she didn’t want to leave the cabin. Besides, it was far too cold to take the children on such a long trip unless it was absolutely necessary.

  Now that Grady had provided the venison meat and renewed her faith in mankind, she could carry on a while longer.

  Unable to sleep with images of the handsome miner infiltrating her thoughts, yet again, she rose from the bed and stoked the stove. Gia lifted the blanket she’d left draped over the rocking chair, wrapped it around her, then pulled the chair close to the stove and curled up in it.

  She should have told Grady to leave and not come back again, but she couldn’t. He’d been her first contact with an adult and the outside world in months. She hadn’t realized how starved she was for companionship, for a conversation that didn’t come from her children.

  She’d needed to feel something beyond despair and Grady had done that. He’d made her feel far more than she intended.

  In truth, when he’d held the piece of candy to her lips, something had ignited inside her. Something long forgotten. Something new and foreign. Something undeniably dangerous.

  Something she needed to avoid at all costs.

  The prudent thing to do would be to refuse to see the man again. He stirred something in her she wanted left alone, especially since she had no idea what had become of Rocco. What if her husband suddenly returned and found her having supper with Grady? She’d be devastated if she’d been gone and arrived home to find Rocco laughing at the supper table with another woman. No, she really should keep her distance from Grady. It was for the best.

  At least that’s what she attempted to convince herself.

  Gia rose and made a cup of tea then settled back into the chair with her feet tucked beneath her as she snuggled into the blanket for warmth. Head tipped against the back of the chair, she let her gaze drift to the darkness outside the window as she thought back to her childhood.

  She’d grown up in an apartment building with hundreds of other Italians in an Italian neighborhood on the edge of a mostly respectable area of New York City. Her parents had come to America brimming with dreams of making their fortune. Instead, they’d worked hard for every penny they earned. Her mother labored long hours in a factory. Her father, by a huge blessing, had a secure job working for the city collecting garbage. It paid a decent wage and kept them all well fed. Gia and her three older brothers had all attended school. Her brothers dropped out one by one, but she’d loved learning and stayed in school until she passed the final examination.

  Although she and her brothers had been born in America, Rocco and his family had immigrated when Rocco was Gwennie’s age. They moved into the vacant apartment next door to the Esposito family and from that moment on, the children had been good friends. Rocco had two brothers and two sisters, all older. No one was surprised when his oldest sister married Gia’s oldest brother.

  Unspoken as it may have been, the expectation existed that she and Rocco would eventually marry. One sunny spring day when she was seventeen, Rocco accompanied her as she ran errands for her mother. They were strolling beneath a bower of blossoming trees when he casually suggested it would be a good thing if they wed. He’d become her closest friend and confidante, so it seemed natural to agree to his marriage proposal. When he kissed her that afternoon for the first time, she’d liked it, but felt no great flutters of excitement or longing.

  Companionship had always been at the forefront of their marriage, rather than any great passion. She and Rocco loved one another, were devoted to each other and the children, but she’d never felt an impassioned longing for him.

  Not like she currently experienced for Grady. Oh, how that man had spun her world off kilter.

  Feeling like she’d betrayed her husband for her thoughts about the miner, Gia tried to concentrate on anything other than the way Grady’s smile lit his face, or the light that twinkled in his blue eyes as he held Gwennie on his lap.

  She’d fully intended for him to take his candy and leave right after the meal, but he’d opened the box she’d carefully kept away from the children all day and made it impossible for her to refuse it. How could she insist he take it when Matty and Gwennie had enjoyed the treat more than anything they’d ever tasted.

  Throughout the day, every time she looked at the box she’d set high on a shelf in the kitchen her mouth had watered, but she’d resisted the urge to open it and taste of the treasures contained within. Then Grady had appeared with the deer and she hadn’t been quick-witted enough to think of an excuse why she couldn’t take the venison meat he offered.

  How could she turn it down when she wanted that meat so badly, she would have begged for it? Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to swallow a bit of her pride and ask for his help. He could teach her how to hunt, or at least shoot the gun.

  Rocco purchased the weapon when they arrived in Baker City, but neither of them had ever shot a gun. Rocco barely had any notion of how to load it and Gia lacked any clue as to how a firearm worked. She had no concern about the children hurting themselves with it because it wasn’t loaded. She kept it near at hand just for show, hoping if she threatened someone with it, they’d leave rather than test her ability to shoot it.

  She held no doubt that Grady could not only show her how to load it, but shoot it. Then again, Gia wasn’t convinced she could actually bring herself to shoot anything, or anyone. Unless her children’s lives were at stake, she most likely wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger.

  And if someone did threaten her children, they’d find she was a formidable foe, one with whom to avoid tussling. She used to beat all three of her brothers when they’d wrestle with her as children, but that was many, many years ago.

  Gia sighed and sipped her tea. Should she mov
e to town? If she did, what could she possibly do to support herself and the children? Who would hire her? And to do what? She had few talents that could translate into employable skills. She refused to work in a saloon or—she gulped—a bawdy house.

  If she had to choose between that and staying in the mountains, alone, for the rest of her life, she’d choose the mountains.

  The cabin provided a roof over her head and she still had food to put on the table, even if it was limited. If she could just come up with some feed for the cow and the chickens, and perhaps some flour, they could make it through the winter.

  The venison was a godsend. Between what Grady had started smoking and what he’d stored in the springhouse, they’d have meat to eat for a long while. Gia planned to use some of the precious jars she had left from canning vegetables to preserve stew meat. It was such a treat to have meat to add to their meager fare.

  Although Grady acted as though he’d just happened to come upon the deer, she knew good and well he’d most likely gone out hunting with the intention of bringing the meat to her door. She was sure he did have plenty to eat up at the mine, but the only reason he’d likely gone out hunting was for her sake.

  Irritated that he felt the need to help her yet grateful that he had, she didn’t know how to deal with her conflicting emotions. Part of her wanted to tell him to never darken her doorstep again. The more sensible, and somewhat infatuated part of her dared dream he would come to visit again soon.

  In spite of herself, Gia smiled at her fanciful thoughts and fell asleep in the rocking chair.

  She awakened to a soft thump on the roof. If it was Christmas Eve, she might have thought it was Saint Nicholas himself come for a visit.