by Jillian Hart
There’d been a time when she’d used it quite often. Those were the days she and Keith would steal off and spend lazy afternoons together. She realized now she’d not touched the perfume since Keith had left. “You’re right, of course.”
Deidre angled the hat on her head in a saucy jaunt and held out a long hat pin for her sister.
Colleen wiped her hands on her apron. “Can’t you stay a couple of hours?”
Deidre handed her two hat pins. Her blond ringlets framed her heart-shaped faced that no longer looked girlish but quite womanly. “I’d really love to, but I promised Anne and Sally.”
Colleen straightened the hat to a more respectable angle then rammed the pin in place. “When will you be home? I thought we’d decorate the tree.”
“I promised Ruth I’d go riding this afternoon.”
Colleen looked into Deidre’s bright eyes and remembered when she’d been that young and reckless. It hadn’t been that long ago and the realization tempered her disappointment. “Perhaps we could have dinner.”
Deidre nodded. “Yes, I will be home for dinner.” Her gaze darted to the oven. Sweet smells of baking apples filled the room. “Apple bread. It’s my favorite.”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“You really are the best, Colleen. I do love you. And I am so grateful for all that you’ve done for me.”
Her sister’s contrition didn’t ring true. “What are you up to?”
Deidre’s eyes widened just as they had when she was twelve and she’d stolen candy sticks from the jar on the front counter. “Nothing. Can’t I thank you for being nice to me?”
“You never have before.”
“Well, maybe it’s the holiday spirit.” She hugged her sister. “Maybe now that I’m older, I see what a sacrifice you’ve made for me. I know you never would have married Richard if it weren’t for me.”
Colleen straightened and met Deidre’s gaze. “I cared for Richard.” There was truth in that. He’d been a good man, solid, caring.
“He was older than Father.”
“He was kind.” And he’d offered her and Deidre a home when they’d had nothing. Though their marriage had lacked passion, there’d been friendship and mutual affection in the beginning. When he’d suffered the stroke shortly after their wedding, she’d stood by him and honored their wedding vows.
A wrinkle creased Deidre’s forehead. “You didn’t love him.”
Absently, she fingered the buttons at her starched cuff. “There are many kinds of love. It’s not all poems, roses and passion, you know.”
Sadness flickered across Deidre’s blue eyes. “It should be.”
She straightened her shoulders. “But it isn’t.”
“You had that kind of love with Keith.” She spoke softly as if afraid to mention his name.
Colleen couldn’t breathe for a moment.
“You never talk about him,” Deidre coaxed.
She’d never discussed Keith with her sister. And she wasn’t about to start now.
“No, I do not.” She needed to do something. The idleness, combined with the talk, was reawakening emotions she’d worked hard to bury. “I was very young when I was with Keith. And I learned the hard way that’s it’s foolish to put trust in love.”
Deidre crossed the room and lifted her brown coat off the peg. She slid it on. “He loved you.”
Sudden, hot unshed tears stung her throat. “Not enough to marry me.”
“I know he must have had good reasons.”
How many nights had she lain awake trying to make sense of that last conversation they’d shared. They’d stood on the hill overlooking the James River. When she’d told him she wasn’t pregnant, he’d looked disappointed and relieved. And then said he had to leave. She’d begged him to stay. He’d backed away from her and left.
Colleen straightened her shoulders and pursed her lips. Anger had long replaced the bitter sadness in her heart. “He never shared them with me.”
Deidre ignored the icy tone in Colleen’s voice. “Why haven’t you gone to see him? Richard is dead. You are free to marry again,” Deidre said.
Tension tightened Colleen’s shoulders. Keith had come to see her when he’d first returned home from the war four years ago. She’d been shocked by how different he’d looked. The youthful spark had vanished from his eyes, replaced by a hardness that had frightened her. His body had grown leaner, more muscular. Despite the changes and old wounds of the heart, desire had bubbled inside her as she’d stared at him. Lord, but she’d ached to throw herself into his arms.
Instead, she’d been mindful of the customers staring and whispering as she’d moved stiffly across the mercantile. Her bland smile didn’t reflect the long tucked-away emotions roaring to life.
Keith’s gaze had trailed over her, settling on her wedding band. “Is it true what they’re saying in town? Are you married?”
The happiness had vanished and she was left with the stark reality of her life. She couldn’t go to him no matter how much she wanted to. “Yes.”
“You didn’t wait for me?” The raw pain in his eyes still stuck with her to this day.
She’d been annoyed at his arrogance. He’d had his chance to marry her! The desire vanished and she’d met his steely gaze. “No.”
Keith had turned on his heel and left the mercantile without a word. They’d not spoken to each other since.
“He’s never married,” Deidre prompted.
Colleen knew. Whenever there was the least bit of gossip about Keith she listened, treasuring the snippets of news like gold. She knew his ranch was thriving; that he’d courted the Baxter girl for a brief time and that he’d built a fine new house. She’d caught glimpses of him when he came to town but they never spoke. Whenever his ranch needed supplies, he sent his young foreman.
After Richard’s death there’d been whispers in town that he’d start courting her. But he’d not and Colleen had refused to sacrifice her pride and go to him even though there were so many nights that she laid awake aching for him.
She shoved aside the stab of sadness. “Too much time has passed.”
Deidre stood right behind her now. “I’ll bet he still loves you.”
A wave of heat stained her cheeks. “The past is the past and there is no getting it back.” She bristled. “I’d like you to carve out some time from your schedule today so that we can visit.” She sounded pricklier than she’d intended. “I want to know how school is going for you.”
Deidre’s smile vanished. “What’s there to say? I go to my classes, I do what the teachers say and I make excellent marks. It’s all very boring.”
“Boring? What I wouldn’t give to be in your place now. You are lucky we have the money to send you to school, Deidre. With an education, you can be a teacher. You will have choices in your life.”
Deidre frowned in disagreement. “I don’t want to be a teacher.”
Colleen looked at her as if she’d suddenly grown a third eye. “We’ve talked about this a thousand times. Every woman should have a profession and be independent. Teaching is your dream.”
Deidre sighed and started to fasten the buttons on her coat. “It is your dream.”
Colleen’s starched collar felt tight. “It’s an excellent dream for any woman.”
Deidre pulled back her shoulders and drew in a breath. “I want to leave school.”
Colleen looked up. “What?”
Deidre dropped her gaze and stared at her thumb as if it suddenly held great interest. “I don’t like being so far from home. I miss my friends.”
Colleen struggled to keep her voice calm. She remembered how her own mother had ranted when she’d announced she wasn’t going to school. The angrier her mother became the more she dug her own heels in. “Where did this come from? Your friends will be here when you come home from school next summer. They will be here when you graduate.”
Her bottom lip curled into a pout. “I don’t like being away.”
Co
lleen swallowed her rising anger. “We all must do things we don’t like. Besides, you’re too young to make a decision like this.”
Deidre shrugged. “You walked away from school.”
Colleen smacked her hand against the kitchen table. “And I was a complete and utter fool. Because of that stupid decision I had to get married so that we could eat.” Keith was gone, their parents had died and the war was ravaging the Shenandoah Valley. Richard’s proposal had saved them both.
Deidre’s hands shook slightly as she tugged on her gloves. “You’re shouting.”
She inhaled, trying to calm her nerves. “I want you to have more choices than I did.”
Deidre’s eyes glistened with tears. “I’ve a right to make my own choices. Right or wrong, I am willing to live with the consequences.”
“You don’t have the sense to think ahead to your future. That is my job. No matter what you say, leaving school is not an option for you. I won’t let you make that mistake!”
“You can’t live your life through mine.”
Colleen tugged her cuffs in place. “I’m not going to have this conversation.”
“You are treating me like a child.”
Her face felt flushed. “You are acting like one.”
Deidre turned and flounced toward the door. “Fine!”
“Where are you going?”
She snatched her reticule off the peg by the door. “To see Sally and Anne. They understand that I hate school. They care about me. They like having me around.”
Colleen stamped her foot. “Don’t you dare leave this house! We are not finished with this discussion.”
Deidre jerked her scarf from her coat pocket and reached for the door handle that led to the back alley. “You’ve no right to treat me like a child. You are not my mother.”
“I’ve every right—” Deidre slammed the door before Colleen could finish.
She pressed flushed hands to her face. As much as she wanted to run after Deidre, she knew there’d be no talking to her until she returned this evening. The girl could be quite bullheaded. This evening, they’d talk this whole school situation over and Deidre would see reason.
Woodenly, she moved to the kitchen table and sat down. Her legs felt so heavy. She buried her face in her trembling hands.
Lord, but she felt one hundred years old. She laid her head down on the table. Hot tears stung her eyes and for the first time in years, she let them flow. She cried until she drifted to sleep.
The smell of burning apple bread woke her. Jumping to her feet, she pulled the dried-out, blackened bread from the oven.
More tears stung her eyes. This day had gone from bad to worse.
As she swiped a tear from her face, she saw a folded piece of white paper on the floor by the back door. It must have fallen out of Deidre’s pocket when she’d pulled out her scarf.
Slowly she rose, picked up the paper and opened it. What struck her immediately was the handwriting. The author had borne down hard on the page, taking care to form each letter.
Deidre—
I’ve arranged for the minister to marry us. Meet me outside of town on Friday morning. I’ll be waiting.
Joshua
Colleen blinked twice and reread the letter. I’ve arranged for the minister to marry us. Her heart hammered in her chest.
Joshua? Joshua Matthews.
He was the foreman on Keith Garrett’s farm. He was the boy who always came to the store for supplies. He was the boy—no, the man—who used to enjoy talking with Deidre.
Friday. Today was Friday. It all made sense now. The Sunday dress. The rose water. The talk of quitting school.
She was eloping with Joshua Matthews!
Chapter Two
Colleen’s heart raced as she shoved the letter in her dress pocket and snatched her coat off the peg by the back door. Without bothering for hat or gloves, she ran out the door and down the street. Most of the stores along the brick sidewalk were closed for the holiday. A few people stood in front of the redbrick Massey Hotel. One man even called out to her. But she didn’t bother to look back to acknowledge who it was. She had to get to the livery and stop Deidre before she made the biggest mistake of her life.
Her side ached and her lungs burned as she ran into the large stable. “Deidre!” she shouted. No answer.
The large room was dimly lit and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust as the smell of hay filled her nostrils. There were six stalls on each side and most were filled with horses. No one was traveling today. “Deidre!”
Jake Perry poked his head out of the last stall on the right. Past sixty, Jake wore coveralls and a faded red shirt. He rubbed a gnarled hand under his white mustache, which twitched as he sniffed. “Colleen, is that you?”
Breathless, she ran to him. “Jake, have you seen Deidre?”
He leaned his pitchfork against the wall. “Yep, she rode out of here about a half hour ago.”
Tears of frustration stung the back of her eyes. “Do you know where she went?”
His eyes narrowed as if he was trying to figure out what all the fuss was about. “Well, she said she was going for a ride with Sally and Anne.”
Jake didn’t mention Joshua Matthews. No doubt Deidre had been very careful, knowing full well Jake would have alerted her if he’d known her sister intended to ride with a young man.
“Do you know where she was headed?” Colleen said.
“Didn’t say.” He wiped his hands on his pants.
Neither had Joshua in his letter. There were a half-dozen towns in the valley where they could find a minister to marry them.
“Why are you so upset? I don’t think I’ve seen you this flustered in a long time. She said she’d be back soon enough.”
As soon as she was married. “Jake, would you saddle my horse for me?”
He pulled off his floppy hat and scratched his head. “Your horse?”
She struggled not to shout. “Is that so odd?”
He lifted a brow, hearing her frustration. “Well, it is. You drive the buckboard with supplies regularly but you ain’t ridden for years.”
She started toward the stall where she kept her horse and saddle. “I am today!”
“Well, you don’t have to shout,” he said, cutting across her path. “I’m old but I ain’t deaf.”
She felt as if she was ready to jump out of her skin. “I’m sorry.”
He hoisted her saddle off the hook on the wall. “Where you headed?”
“To Keith Garrett’s.”
Colleen mounted her horse and headed out of town in such a rush she didn’t bother to return home for her hat and gloves. Her heart pounded in her chest as if the devil himself were following her. She had to stop Deidre from making a terrible mistake. She only prayed Joshua had confided in Keith about where he was headed. There were other towns within a day’s ride and all three had ministers.
She was so focused on saving Deidre that she didn’t think too much about where she was going. She’d ridden the rolling landscape so many times when she was much younger that her body knew where to go even if her mind was elsewhere.
It wasn’t until she reached the entrance to the Garrett farm that she stopped and drew in a breath. Her face burned from the cold. Her heart galloped in her chest. She stared down the long dirt road that led to Keith’s house. She’d not been here since she’d married Richard. Her mouth felt dry, and despite the cold her hands sweated.
The entrance to Keith’s property had changed a good bit. A split-rail fence lined the property and the sign that hung above the entrance was freshly engraved and filled with gold paint. This was no longer the property of some upstart from nowhere. This was the place of a prosperous man.
So many times in the last few months, she’d thought about Keith—the feel of his callused hands wrapped around hers, his deep baritone voice, the way his belt hugged his narrow hips.
So many times, she’d wondered how he fared. So many times…yet each time she’d never followed
through and ridden out here.
Her pulse thrummed under her lace-trimmed collar. She moistened her dry lips.
She kicked her heels into the horse’s side and started down the road that led to Keith’s house.
A rush of memories assailed her as she moved down the road over the hill and past the last stand of trees. They’d lain under those trees that last summer together and made love under the stars. Keith had promised to love her forever.
However, if he’d loved her he’d have married her before he’d left for the war. If he’d really loved her… She viciously shook off the old anger and sadness, drawing a deep breath into her tight chest.
She’d heard the old house was gone. But it was still jarring to see the two-story white house with a wide front porch and a sound stone foundation. Floor-to-ceiling windows trimmed with black shutters flanked the front door. Twin oak rockers sat side by side on the porch.
An unexpected smile lifted the edge of her mouth. He’d built the fine home he’d talked about so often. Despite all that had passed between them, pride flickered in her.
Colleen rode closer, forcing herself to refocus on the task at hand. There was no sign of Deidre’s horse, but with luck she was still here.
She tied off her horse’s reins to a rod-iron hitching post in front of the porch and climbed the five front steps. She pulled her coat cuffs over her chilled hands and stared at the freshly painted black front door. She raised her fist to knock and then hesitated. Knots gathered in her stomach. Ignoring the urge to run, she summoned her courage and knocked. She snatched her hand back as if it had been burned.
Purposeful steps echoed inside the house. Her stomach fluttered and she took a step back from the front door. She’d not seen Keith Garrett this up close in four years. Her stomach flip-flopped.
She fisted her fingers to hide her sudden shaking. How would he react? What was she going to say to him? She’d certainly practiced her share of speeches that she’d wanted to give him. They’d all been so eloquent and high-handed. But just as when she’d seen him in the store four years ago, every rational thought she had vanished.
