“He wouldn’t have just made that up.” Lydia didn’t say anything. He tried the same tactic the doctor told him to use with Lydia. “Maybe you can just pretend until your memories return.”
“Wouldn’t that be lying?”
Caleb winced. She hit a little too close to the truth. “Not really. What if you are his momma? It won’t hurt anything.”
“I guess not.” She picked up her plate and held her hand out to Caleb. “I’ll take yours up as well.”
“That isn’t necessary, Lydia.”
“I’m going that way. I’ll be back shortly.”
Caleb watched her walk away, wishing he knew what was going on in her mind.
Lydia placed the dishes in the hot water. Tot was sitting on the barrel drinking coffee.
The cook was an interesting individual. He spoke mostly in riddles. It hurt Lydia’s head thinking about the stories he told. She found out his name was Aristotle. He was originally from Boston and attended school there before coming out west to seek his fortune.
Never married, and with no children, he had known Caleb’s father most of his life. He worked as the cook for the cattle drive simply because he loved it. He told her he had enough money to retire but working kept his mind sharp.
She looked out in the sea of silhouettes to see if she could find Hart.
“He’s with Goodie and Slim,” Tot said from the darkness.
“How did you know who I was looking for?”
“You have the same look Ingrid had when she couldn’t find one of her children.”
Lydia laughed. “I guess it is a universal look.”
“All mothers have it.”
“I hope he isn’t too much of a bother.”
Tot went to the fire and refilled his coffee. “Not at all. He’s a bright boy and at the age where everything is interesting. I know the men watch out for him.”
“They are very kind.”
“Goodie and Slim are two of the best cowboys I’ve ever worked with. They are hard workin’ and honest. Your boy couldn’t do better being around them.”
“I know he follows you quite a bit.”
“He keeps me young. It is nice to have a young’un help gather firewood.”
Lydia looked back at the pond. Caleb’s back was to her. She could barely make him out as the sun finished setting. Her stomach did a little flip as she took in his profile. He was certainly the most handsome man she had ever met. Or at least remembered.
She had lied to Caleb. She was getting parts of her memory back. She remembered her house in Texas, the ranch, fishing at the creek. Picnics in the grass. She remembered Vangie and a stormy night. But these were all pieces. They didn’t tell a complete story.
She had better retrieve her dress and return to the pond. It would be nice to feel human again. She giggled, remembering Caleb said that to her after he went to the bathhouse in Pueblo.
“Do you need me to help wash the dishes?” she asked Tot.
“No. I’ll get them done shortly. I’m just resting.” Tot looked down at the creek. “You go spend time with Caleb.”
Lydia felt her cheeks go hot. Perhaps it was just the fire. “I’ll see you in the morning, Tot.”
Tot nodded. As she turned to go, she heard him call her name.”
“He’s a good man.”
“Caleb?”
“Yes. He’s an honorable man. Will always do what is right or what he thinks is right. Even if it ends up costing him. The whole family is like that.”
“I’m not sure I understand you.”
“Don’t toy with him, Lydia. I know he cares deeply for Hart. Maybe even you. Make sure what you feel is real. Not some make-believe story you got in your head.”
Lydia stiffened. “I won’t hurt him.”
“I don’t think you would intend to. But people get hurt just the same.” Lydia stood in the darkness. “Goodnight, Lydia.”
She left Tot in the darkness and headed over to the wagon she was sharing with Hart. When the boy decided to sleep inside it. Sometimes she was glad he chose to sleep outside with the men. Hart tended to toss and turn in his sleep and Lydia didn’t know how much longer her body could take it with him kicking her during the night.
Picking up a lit lamp that was sitting in the dirt, Lydia walked to the back of the wagon. She turned up the wick and stepped inside, the light casting shadows in the small space. There was a hook in the center bow and Lydia hung the lamp on it. She would have to be careful that she didn’t knock it with her head.
The space was cramped. The area behind the seat appeared to be a large box with a blanket over it. That took up a third of the wagon. The rest consisted of boxes filled with supplies and two bedrolls. Hart’s bedroll was missing so she knew he intended to sleep outside.
Taking her dress off a hook drilled in one of the bows, she draped it over the back of the wagon so she could grab it when she climbed out. Now, she just needed to find her bag that contained her personal items.
That is where she had a precious bar of soap hidden away.
Caleb had purchased her a bathtub and several bars of floral scented soap when they were in Pueblo. The bathtub was just like the one that she had in the hotel; a large copper tub with a tall back. She was so touched by the gift she couldn’t speak. The tub took up nearly half the wagon, so it was in the medical wagon with the bedrolls. Doc said it was better than any wooden crate for storing supplies.
The soap she placed in her bag. Granted it was an empty pillowcase and not really a bag, but it worked for her purposes. She had the clothes Caleb purchased for her, a silver-backed new brush and comb set, and a journal with two pencils that she could write her thoughts in as she remembered her past also tucked away in the pillowcase.
She normally kept it by her bedroll, but it wasn’t there. She hunched over, her hands on her hips.
It had to be somewhere.
She wasn’t surprised she couldn’t find it as Hart had his clothing everywhere. He even left his cowboy hat inside the wagon. She picked it up. It was damp from the pond. Flipping it over so the brim was up, the hat should be dry by morning. She quickly folded his clothes and put them to the side. As she picked up the last shirt and started folding it, she found her pillowcase. It was tucked under the blanket covering the large box.
She folded the last shirt and set it aside. Lifting the corner of the blanket, she realized it wasn’t a crate at all. A leather trunk with embossed tin corners peeked out from underneath the covering. She moved her pillowcase out of the way and lifted the blanket, uncovering the trunk.
The trunk was dusty and smelled lightly of smoke. Images flashed through Lydia’s mind of folding clothes and placing them in a trunk just like this one. Images of grabbing Hart’s arm and hugging him to her. Images of a man she didn’t recognize helping her load the trunk in a wagon. Images of another man surrounded by horses, hay, and puppies.
Caleb.
She knew the last man was Caleb.
Lydia knew that the answers to the questions that had been plaguing her could be found in the trunk.
Looking around to make sure no one was coming, she tugged on the latch, but it wouldn't move. The padlock was missing, so she knew the trunk wasn’t locked. She ran her fingers over the brass fittings to see if anything was preventing her from opening it.
Her finger caught on the metal dowel that held the locking mechanism in place; it was bent. She looked around the wagon and found a piece of metal that had fallen to the side. Picking it up, she pressed it against the dowel and pushed with all her might.
The soft metal moved, and Lydia was able to open the trunk.
Inside were paper-covered trays filled with small items and letters. She lifted the tray to see what was underneath. On one side were clothes made to fit a small boy. Most likely Hart. There were also three skirts and two blouses. A quilt was folded up over the contents of the other side.
Lydia ran her fingers over the wedding ring design. Images of her mother sewin
g the quilt before a wedding flashed through her mind. A tear dropped on the back of her hand as she gently picked up the quilt and moved it aside.
Underneath the quilt were some more letters and two framed photographs. She picked up the first one.
It was a picture of a younger Lydia, sitting next to a woman with long dark hair. Lydia gave a little gasp. The woman had the same features as Hart. Yet it was Lydia holding an infant in her arms. She was lifting the baby towards the camera and smiling. Lydia recognized the woman, but she couldn’t remember why. There must have been a reason that this picture was taken.
She set the picture aside and picked up the next one.
It was a picture of a man wearing a black suit with a cowboy hat. A spark of recognition ignited in Lydia’s mind and she raised her fingers to her lips to hold back a cry. The man had a mustache and bright eyes. He had his hand on a woman’s shoulder. The woman, who was sitting in a chair was wearing a wedding dress. A lace veil covered her hair and she held a small bouquet in her hand.
Bluebonnets.
She remembered they grew in front of her house.
She ran her fingers down the man in the picture, darting her eyes between him and the bride. She released a sob and dropped the picture. She heard glass crack as the picture hit the side of the trunk. She picked it back up and tried to move the glass pieces back in place. Accusing eyes stared back at her from behind the shattered glass.
“Lyd…,” Caleb’s voice called, and then stopped.
Lydia didn’t have time to close the trunk. She saw Caleb standing at the end of the wagon. The contents of the trunk scattered around her. She looked at the picture in her hands and then again at the man standing at the back of the wagon.
The man who was not her husband.
Chapter 12
Lydia looked at Caleb peeking into the wagon.
Concerned etched his face. “Are you alright?” he asked.
Lydia wiped her tears with the back of her hand and placed the photograph in the bottom of the trunk. “I’m alright. Just a little overwhelmed.”
“Are you remembering anything?”
Lydia nodded. She dragged her hand along the edge of the trunk. “I remember packing this trunk for our trip. I remember Hart unpacking everything I was doing.” She gave a half laugh. “He’s always been a handful.”
“You remember him being your son?”
Lydia wiped her hands across her cheeks. “He’s mine as sure as if I gave birth to him. That’s all I need to know for now.”
Caleb let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good then.”
“What were the pictures?”
“Just memories. Nothing important.” She picked up the letters and placed them back in the trunk. “My mother made this quilt.” She lifted it to her nose and inhaled deeply. “It smells like smoke.”
“We found it when the wagon train was attacked. There were boy’s clothes in there, so we thought to grab it.” He ran his fingers through his dark hair. “Honestly, I forgot about it until now.”
“Thank you,” she said giving him a slight smile. “I am glad you brought it.”
She put the quilt on top of the photographs and then put the tray back in place. Closing the trunk, she ran her hand lovingly along the leather top. She gave a curt nod and pulled the blanket over it again. She would keep the memories in the trunk until she was able to deal with them later.
She looked at Caleb, disappointment surging through her veins that he wasn’t her husband.
She recalled Tot’s words.
Make sure what you feel is real. Not some make-believe story you got in your head.
Was she just pretending to have feelings for Caleb? She didn’t think so. When she looked at him her heart would flutter. She couldn’t wait until he stopped by the wagon to check on her. She remembered the gentle way he washed her hair at the hotel and worked to get the knots from it.
If he knew she wasn’t his wife, then why did he make her think she was? Was he doing to her, what he suggested she do to Hart? Just pretend until the truth came out.
Lydia shook her head. He never made her think it. She clung to the idea that he was her husband so much, that she wasn’t willing to listen to anything. Not even that little voice in the back of her head.
Lydia thought for a moment. She had a choice she needed to make.
Either tell him the truth.
Or pretend for one more evening.
Lydia gave him a smile and walked to the back of the wagon where he waited. She grabbed a bar of soap from her pillowcase. “Should I use the roses or the jasmine?” She held the bars out towards Caleb.
“Roses are my favorite,” he said softly.
Lydia put the other bar back in the pillowcase and returned the bag to the corner of the wagon. Grabbing the rose scented soap, she stepped out of the wagon and jumped to the ground.
Caleb’s arms wrapped around her, making sure she didn’t land with a thud. She felt safe in his arms. Lydia leaned forward slightly, judging his reaction. She could see his pulse quicken and his lips open slightly.
Leaning up on her toes, she gently placed a kiss against his neck. His eyes flew wide, and she could feel his arms tighten around her waist. She placed a quick kiss against his lips and then stepped back.
“Last one in is a rotten egg,” she called, grabbing her dress and taking off towards the pond.
She heard Caleb give a laugh and the sound of his footsteps as he chased her to the cool water.
Caleb shook his head as Lydia swam out to the middle of the pond. The moon was bright in the sky, casting its glow on the water. He kept his eyes diverted, focusing on the outline of the cows in the distance.
“Are you done, yet?” he asked.
Lydia swam over to the rock Caleb was sitting on. “Hand me the soap, please,” she said.
Caleb looked back towards the wagon as he handed her the bar of soap.
She moved back towards the middle of the pond. He could see her silhouette from the glow of the campfire as she stood in the water and started washing herself. He quickly turned his eyes away and looked to make sure no one else was watching her.
When she was done lathering her hair, she tossed the bar to Caleb before dunking under the water. She came up spitting as she lay back to rinse her hair. “The water is cold.”
“You get used to it quickly. The sun has gone down,” he said softly. “The temperature does drop.”
Lydia rinsed her hair. The scent of roses permeated the air. Caleb groaned. He would forever associate the scent of roses with Lydia and this pond.
“You need to hurry up,” he croaked.
Lydia stood up in the water. “Why?” She looked around the darkened landscape. “Oh my, are there Indians around here?”
“The Utes are known in these parts, but they will leave us alone.”
“Are you sure?” She swam closer, her hair floating from her shoulders. Suddenly she stopped and sunk below the water. She surfaced but kept her arms and shoulders below the water’s surface. Caleb gave a quick glance. It was safe for him to look at her as he couldn’t see anything but her head bobbing in the water.
Caleb pulled his feet from the cold water where he was dangling them. He reached for his boots that were sitting next to him. “Let’s get you back to the wagon before you catch cold.”
“I’m not cold, Caleb,” she said.
“I beg to differ. Once you get out of that water, you’ll be very cold. And I don’t want any of my men being tempted.”
“But they wouldn’t touch me.”
“They are men, Lydia. Some of them I don’t even know apart from this trip. I don’t know how they’ll react.”
“You haven’t bathed yet.”
“I’ll bathe after you’ve gone to sleep.”
“I’m not ready to go to sleep.
Caleb looked up at the full moon surrounded by a sky full of stars. He didn’t want to look at Lydia sitting in the water in her chemise. He had already seen
the way the fabric clung to her curves and he needed to get the image out of his head before he did something he regretted.
“Fine. I’ll just sit here, and you continue to swim.”
He would swear that her face contorted, and she was frowning, but it was just a bit too dark to see her features. She moved closer to him, walking on her hands towards the water’s edge.
“I guess I’ll get out then.”
“Good girl.” Caleb put on his other boot and stood. He reached for a linen sheet and held it open. “You can dry yourself off.”
Lydia stood from the water and covered herself as she walked forward. She didn’t make any move to take the sheet from Caleb.
“Lydia,” he warned, stepping closer and putting the sheet over her shoulders. He put his arms behind her to ensure the sheet covered her completely. When he was done, he realized that she had pulled her arms from the sheet and was holding the end of it in place.
“Caleb,” she said, taking a step closer. Caleb could see her lips open slightly and a pink tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip. “Caleb… I…. ouch!” she cried falling forward.
Caleb had no choice but to put his arms around her waist. He grabbed her, pulling her closer. “You alright?”
“I just tripped on a rock.” She looked up at him, her eyes opened wide. “Thank you for catching me.”
“My pleasure.” He brushed her wet hair from around her face. “You have knots.”
“I’ll use my comb before I go to bed.” Caleb felt her arms tighten around his neck as she pulled him down for a kiss. “Unless of course you want to comb them out for me,” she whispered just before pressing her lips against his.
He tried to resist, but it was no use. Her lips were addictive as he applied pressure, deepening the kiss.
He pushed her away and held her at arm’s length.
“Lydia…,” he began.
“Caleb, I know you’ve been pretending to be my husband.”
“What?” He wasn’t sure he heard her correctly.
“I realize you aren’t my husband. But tonight, I just want to pretend I don’t know that.”
Caleb Page 12
