“It’s not your fault,” Em said, looking up into his face.
Again he wanted to know what was different. Where was the plain girl he’d first met? The girl with the harsh cheekbones and dull eyes.
“It wasn’t my fault with the coyotes—no one can quiet them. But not finding you at the social? That was my fault, and it has weighed on me since I left town. I was not the friend you needed. I was selfish and careless and you suffered for it.”
“It was only a social. A small thing.”
“No, it wasn’t. It was your chance to make friends and have fun. To dance and get to know people. You’ve been deprived of so much—it was your chance. If only I had taken you around and made introductions. I could have stopped people’s wagging tongues and helped you feel at home. I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quiet and remorseful. “Can you forgive me?”
“It was only one chance. There will be other times for me to socialize. And you needn’t feel bad that I didn’t dance. I don’t know how to dance. I’ve never danced before, and besides—”
Caleb put a finger to her lips. “Hush—stop being so noble. It was wrong of me, and I expected you to give me an earful, make me beg for forgiveness and grovel at your feet. I’ll do it.” Dramatically, he knelt.
“Stand up, you are forgiven already. If I did all those things, making you grovel and such, I would need your forgiveness and then where would we be?” Em held out a hand to him.
Chuckling under his breath, he grasped her outstretched hand and stood. “You surprise me again. I’ve been worrying all this time about making the right kind of apology. Wondering how I would ever earn your forgiveness, and you gave it so easily.”
“You’ve been good to me. Helped me to learn, worried about my well-being. You even helped me to cry—something I wasn’t sure I was capable of doing. I admit I was afraid at the social. And then I overheard horrible gossip. I was wishing for an arm to hold, but that was not your fault. You owed me nothing. And you’ve given me so much already.”
Caleb’s heart felt lighter than it had the weeks he had been away. “I did indeed owe you something. As your friend I owed you a great deal. Plus, I may have forgotten to tell you, but I meant to promise you a dance.” He smiled. “Are you sure I did not?”
“I am certain. I would have remembered that. Had you asked me for a dance, I would’ve told you I don’t dance. I would remember that.”
He put his hand on her brow. “Are you sick? Have you been ill while I was away?”
“No, of course not. I’ve been in good health. The best I’ve known for years. Why do you ask?”
He moved his hand to her chin and tilted her face this way and that, inspecting her. “You must have been sick. A very serious sickness that causes you to forget the most important things. In fact, you may have forgotten, but I remember promising you a dance. Since you left the social early, you’ll have to dance with me now so that I’ll be able to sleep knowing my promise has been fulfilled.”
“I don’t dance,” she said. “Not a step. I would look like an awkward bird if I ever attempted it.”
He bent near her and whispered into her ear, “Tonight you will learn.”
He was so near he could smell the scent of her skin. So near he could see her swallow.
“I don’t know if I can,” she said, her voice a whisper.
“Every girl I’ve ever met loves to dance, and if you promise not to tell, I’ll confess something to you.”
“Very well, I promise.” Her eyes twinkled in the last light of day.
“I love dancing. I always have. I never would admit it as a boy. No boys admit such things. But there is a certain thrill about it. You move to the music, each separate but not. Trust me, you’ll enjoy it.”
Em looked up at him. “Margaret says it’s like floating.”
“Hmmm . . .” Caleb leaned in and tapped the tip of her nose. “Floating, you say? I’ll be sure to hold you tight. Being as light as you are, you may just float away.”
“I’m not nearly so light anymore.”
Since her time in Azure Springs, she had softened. Where sharp bones had once protruded, she now had subtle curves. Food had made a difference, but she remained slender.
“I’ll hold on tight just in case. I’m not willing to risk you floating off into this night sky.” Putting his big hands around her waist, he lifted her high into the air. “You’re right—you’re not nearly as light as you once were. But I’ll still hold on. A person can’t be too careful.” He set her down and bowed.
Then he extended his hand. “Come, dance with me.”
After she took his hand, he held hers a moment and ran his thumb over her knuckles. It was so much smaller than his, but somehow it seemed just the right size. Then he pulled her into his arms.
“There’s no music,” she whispered, her cheeks flushed.
He looked into her eyes. Without speaking, he began stepping in a small circle, humming whatever notes came into his mind. Not once did his eyes leave hers. Margaret was right—dancing was like floating. Like leaving the earth and all its worries and escaping to a realm that existed for just the two of them.
She knew no steps and he didn’t teach her. He just held her, moving as he hummed. Somehow they moved together. Round and round, under the stars. His gaze left her eyes and found her lips. Pink and inviting. Never had he wanted to kiss someone as much as he did at that moment. But why? Is it pity? It couldn’t be anything else, could it? Dropping his hands, he moved away from her, knowing pity was not an adequate reason.
“It’s getting late. I . . . I told Abraham . . . I told him I would have you back before it was too dark, and I haven’t even told you about my trip yet.” He wondered what was happening to him. Too many nights on the trail must have affected him.
Em looked hurt. “It is getting late. Tell me of your trip. I have wondered about it often.”
They walked side by side, leaving plenty of space between them. He neglected to offer his arm. Too confused by his feelings to know how to behave, he walked and talked, barely acknowledging her. Rapidly he told his tale of the places he’d been, the men he’d gone with, and the eventual capture of two of the bandits.
“We caught them in the bluffs outside of Herston. They were camping when we came on them. Alroy got away. He’s still out there.”
He stopped, put a hand on each of her shoulders, and spoke directly to her. His voice carried new intensity. “Em, he’s out there.” He pulled his lips into a tight line and swallowed hard before going on. “He’s out there and he’s bad. I knew he was bad, but I didn’t know he was this bad.”
“I’ll be all right.”
“You don’t understand. We believe he’s connected to other crimes. Not just George. Other evil deeds. Em, we think he’s done horrible things. He takes what he wants. Do you know what I’m saying?”
She nodded. “I know.”
Caleb gritted his teeth. “I’ll catch him. Then this will all be over. He won’t hurt you. I won’t let him hurt anyone.” He moved his hands from her shoulders to her face. “I’ll catch him. You’ll be safe.”
Putting a slender hand on his sleeve, she said, “I know you will. I’ve never doubted.”
When Em and Caleb returned to the Howells’, Abigail and Abraham were still sitting on the porch. After a few moments of small talk, Caleb left them all. He rode away, alone with his thoughts. Unsure why he felt the way he did.
Thirteen
Troubled and confused, Em slept little that night. When at last sleep did come, she dreamed she was in the arms of a prince. Twirling around and around, floating. The feeling was enchanting—and just like her stories, it was not real. Disappointed to find it only a dream, she lay awake. For how long, she was not sure. What she did know was when the new day began, she did not feel rested.
Working with Margaret later that day was difficult. She wanted desperately to sit down, lean her head back, and sleep. Instead, she worked harder, hoping to distract her wear
y body and tired mind.
“I heard Caleb Reynolds was back in town,” Margaret said.
Em didn’t look up from the bread she was kneading. “He is. Just back yesterday.”
“Have you seen him?”
“Briefly. He stopped by the Howells’ to let us know two of the men have been apprehended.”
“That’s all he came to tell you? I thought it was something more exciting. Judging by the way you’ve been darting about like a nervous worker bee all afternoon, I thought he had either proclaimed himself sweet on you or told you he had no such feelings for you.”
Em pulled her hands from the bowl and tried to pull off the dough stuck between her fingers. “He doesn’t care for me. Not that way. At least I don’t think he does. I don’t think he ever could.” Frustrated with the dough, she groaned and brushed her hands on her apron. “I never counted on anyone caring for me like that. And yet, I was fool enough to hope. Is it so wrong to dream?”
Margaret laughed a deep laugh, her whole body shaking. Her curls bobbing with each whoop. “Oh, my dear girl. We all think there is no one for us. Even Eliza and Olivia wonder it at times. I’m positive they do.”
“It’s not funny. I don’t have their looks or your confidence. I am poor and plain. Caleb even admitted as much when we first met.”
“Settle down,” Margaret said from across the room. “Your appearance may not turn all men’s heads, but it will turn someone’s. Besides, you have plenty of gifts. Different from others, but they’re gifts that the right man will treasure. So, tell me, did he say how he feels about you?”
“Well, no, not exactly. He told me he owed me a dance and we danced. Margaret, I have never danced before and it was just like you said. I was floating. For a few glorious moments I was floating under the stars without a single worry. Then he pulled away and acted as if it had never happened. I tossed about all last night, trying to decide what to make of it, and I came to no conclusions.” Em pushed a strand of straw-colored hair away from her face. Dough stuck to it, provoking another groan.
Margaret walked to her and picked the dough from her hair. “This has got you all stirred up. Relax. You don’t need to understand it all right now—and neither does he. He’s your friend, you know that much. Enjoy it.”
“You’re right, I’m sure. I’ve never felt this flustered before. I think about him so often throughout the day and even at night. I am either thinking of him or telling myself not to.”
Margaret put her hands on Em’s face. “Enjoy that too. Enjoy it all.”
Noise, so much noise. Before she even walked into the dining hall, Em knew there was a crowd. Hefting a bowl of potatoes in her arms, she pushed the door open and stepped into the busy room. She saw a few regulars, a traveling family, and several men she had never seen before. She stopped her scan of the room when she spotted Caleb. He was looking at her. Their eyes locked for just a moment before she pulled her gaze away and busied herself serving potatoes. With her heart racing, she started at the opposite side of the room.
She served a bald man with a mustache. Then the traveling family. A group of dirty railroad workers were next. Slowly she piled potatoes onto the plate of a guest who looked more like a little boy than a full-grown man. Only two plates were between her and Caleb now. She couldn’t avoid him.
And then she was standing at his side.
“Potatoes?” she asked, eyes on her feet.
“I’d love potatoes.”
She gave him a large scoop. As she stepped to serve the next patron, she felt something slide into her apron pocket. Startled, she looked to Caleb. He winked at her. “Just something I picked up on the trail.”
Not wanting to draw attention to them, she gave him a half smile and walked on. For an hour and a half she served food. Each time she stood near him, he made small talk with her. Pleasant, easy talk. It infuriated her that he could be so . . . normal.
At last the night was nearly done. Well, not done. A mountain of dishes still needed scrubbing. But the food was gone and soon the crowd would leave. Dishes were the only chore between her and her pillow. Rolling her sleeves up, she prepared herself for the task ahead.
Margaret entered the dining room with a large, empty pan in her hand. Like always, she banged on it and announced that the kitchen was closing up and the meal was over. The noisy crowd left reluctantly, leaving Margaret and Em alone with the dishes. No, it was not just Margaret and Em. Caleb remained in the room and leaned casually against the wall. The same twisted smile on his face.
“Mrs. Anders. Em. That was a fine meal.”
Margaret wiped her hands on her apron and began stacking up plates. “Glad you liked it. Don’t get any ideas though. You may be a fine sheriff and you may have been sleeping under the stars, eating who knows what for the last several weeks, but it makes no difference. The kitchen is closed and I’m not feeding you one more bite.”
“Why, Mrs. Anders, do I look like a man begging for food?” Not waiting for a reply, he said, “As much as I could use another piece of that pie, that’s not what I was after with my compliment. It was a delicious meal. I was hoping if I waited long enough I might have a word alone with Em.”
“This girl can wash dishes twice as fast as anyone I know and you want to whisk her off right now? Leave all this work for the poor widow woman?”
Em spoke up then. “I’ll finish before I leave.”
“I knew you were loyal. Never doubted you. It’s this scoundrel I’m accusing.” Margaret pointed a finger at Caleb. Em would have balked at her words if she had not been working with Margaret all this time. She knew her now well enough to know she was having fun.
“Mrs. Anders, what kind of a man do you think I am? I would never try to sneak Em off. I was hoping you would let me help scrub these dishes. If the dishes were done, you would let her go, wouldn’t you?” Caleb asked, already stacking up dishes so high Em feared he would drop them.
“I’m a smart woman. I never turn down free labor. Get busy, you two young ’uns.” With that, Margaret left them in the dining hall and went to the kitchen.
Em started stacking dishes as Caleb worked beside her. “I’m sorry it’s been so long since we had a reading lesson. I was hoping we could begin again tomorrow.”
Despite her early hesitancy around him, she beamed now. “Oh, I have something to show you. Come with me.” She took her pile into the kitchen and he followed. When they entered the kitchen, Margaret left and went back to the dining hall, leaving them alone again.
Em set her stack on the counter and pointed to a can. “I was practicing my letter sounds a while back. I tried to make the sounds of all the letters I saw while I worked. I made these sounds and in my head I heard soda and—”
“And then all around you, you saw words,” he said.
“I did. I read everything I could in the kitchen. There are words I stumble over. Lots in fact, but most I can figure out. Then I started walking down the street, finding words to read. A few days ago I picked up Abraham’s newspaper and for the first time in my life it looked like more than ants crawling across the paper.” Em sank her hands into the warm water and started scrubbing plates. “I haven’t read my mother’s papers yet. I want to and I will. I think I’m scared to though. I’ve waited so long and spent so many hours wondering what they say. I suppose I’m reluctant—nervous to have the moment here and gone.”
She took the plate she had been scrubbing, dipped it in a rinse bucket, and handed it to Caleb. He took it without waiting for instructions and dried it. “I knew you would be able to read. I had no idea it would come so quickly though,” he said.
“It’s not easy. I sound like Mae and Milly when I read, but I find every day it comes a little easier. My letters look better too. I’ll show you . . . tomorrow.”
“Good. I was afraid I’d scared you off. I wouldn’t want that. We’ll have to meet tomorrow at eight and do our lesson quickly. I promised Eliza an outing and am to meet her at eleven.” Caleb dried anothe
r dish and returned it to its spot in the cupboard.
Keep washing, Em told herself. Coaxing her hands to keep moving, she washed in silence. Afraid her voice would give away her disappointment.
Caleb, equally silent, dried each dish beside her.
When she could trust her voice again, she said, “I’ll be there at eight. Eliza will be happy to spend the day with you. She’s talked of little else during your absence.”
“Eight it is.” Smoothly changing the subject, he asked, “Did you like your gift? I admit it was harder to make than I’d expected.”
“Oh! I was so busy with the dinner rush that I forgot.” She eagerly dried her hands and was about to reach in her pocket when his hand came over hers.
“Finish up here. Look later. It’s nothing much anyway.”
“Very well. I’ll wait.”
She worked faster, curious to see her gift but also eager to be done with dishes. Margaret finally reappeared in the kitchen. Eyeing her nearly clean kitchen, she said, “A fine pair you two are. If there is ever a dish-washing competition, be sure to enter as a team.”
“A competition as teammates. That’s a brilliant idea.” Caleb winked at her. “Normally I just compete against Em. It works out well though. She says she’ll beat me one day, but so far I’ve won every time.”
Em grabbed the towel she had just wiped her hands on and whipped him in the side with it. “I will beat you someday.” She set down the towel and brushed her hands on her apron.
“Did you just do what I think you did?” He laughed. Then he grabbed a cup of water from the counter and splashed it at her.
Shrieking, she grabbed the towel and got him again.
The Hope of Azure Springs Page 16
