“This looks wonderful,” Rachel said, glancing down at the steak and potato supper, her mouth watering at the aroma.
Suzanne smiled back. “Don’t forget there’s pie.” She patted Rachel on the shoulder and left the couple alone.
Dax waited for Rachel to start before cutting his first slice of steak. He chewed slowly, contemplating what he wanted to say.
“I still get nightmares from the war. There doesn’t seem to be much I can do about them, so I’ve learned to accept they’re a part of my life.”
“Is it the same dream each time?”
“Mostly. It’s a battle with soldiers running around, not sure of their place. I step up to say something just before a cannonball explodes around us. The smoke clears and all I hear are the moans and screams of my men.” He set down his fork and motioned for Suzanne.
“What can I get you?”
“Do you remember the offer of whiskey you made?”
Suzanne offered a slight smile. “I sure do. Let me get it for you.”
Rachel’s puzzled expression followed Suzanne as she disappeared into the kitchen. A moment later, she emerged with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.
“Here you are.” She filled each glass. “Let me know if you’d like more.”
Dax picked his up, indicating to Rachel she should do the same. “Here’s to the start of many suppers together, Rachel.”
He noticed her slight hesitation before touching the edge of his glass with hers and taking a sip. She set down the glass as her brows furrowed, her stomach beginning to churn at his toast.
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ve made the decision to stay in Splendor and help Luke with the ranch.” He waited, hoping she’d provide the response he’d imagined. Excitement over his announcement, or perhaps a declaration of how much his staying meant to her. He received neither.
Her face sobered, although she did smile. Not the bright, radiant smile he’d seen a few times. This one held a look of disbelief, her skepticism obvious.
“For how long?” She picked up her fork and knife to cut off another slice of meat. She put it in her mouth, letting the juice roll around while contemplating how his announcement might affect her.
Dax narrowed his eyes at what appeared to be complete indifference. Irritation thrummed through him at how she seemed not to care one way or another. “Permanent. I don’t plan to return to Texas.”
She set down her silverware and leaned forward, her face signaling nothing. “How nice, Dax. I believe you’ll come to love the town as much as the rest of us.”
Confusion at her lack of enthusiasm ripped through Dax. She’d told him she loved him. Had she changed her mind? Now she acted as if his decision to stay meant nothing to her.
He crossed his arms and settled his gaze on her. “You have nothing else to say about my staying?” His voice held an edge—part frustration, part anger.
“I’m not sure what else you expect me to say. You’ll be needed at the ranch, and Luke is most likely pleased with your decision.” She fiddled with the napkin in her lap, twisting it one way and then another, waiting to see if he’d offer anything further. Rachel longed for him to indicate his feelings for her. Staying in Splendor was a big step for Dax, but did it have anything to do with her? Or was it based solely on an obligation to his brother?
“Yes, he is pleased.”
“Why are you staying? What changed your mind?” Tell me you’re staying because of me, Rachel prayed.
He wanted to say the words, tell her he realized how much he loved her, but they lodged in his throat. “I finally accepted the ranch held too much potential to walk away. Luke’s set on staying and, well…I couldn’t turn my back on him.”
“I see.” She’d hoped for more, but accepted he couldn’t say what he didn’t feel. Love wasn’t something you could force on another and it was her curse she felt it for Dax.
They lapsed into a tense, uncomfortable silence, neither knowing what else to say. She needed Dax to profess his feelings, if he held any for her.
“Are you two finished?” Suzanne walked up, shifting her gaze from one to the other. She could see something sparked between them and thought it best to keep quiet.
Dax handed Suzanne some bills before pulling out Rachel’s chair. She could feel the friction build between them. He held out his arm and she wrapped a hand around it.
“Thank you, Dax. I had a nice time.” Her voice sounded hollow, yet she meant every word.
“Did you? Or would supper with Gabe or Luke have been just as entertaining?”
She tore her hand from his arm and stepped back, fisting her hands and placing them on her hips, her eyes sparking with anger. “What do you mean?”
He didn’t back down. His jaw worked at the same time his chest tightened. He needed to get himself under control, make sense of the fury which threatened to overtake him. He had no experience in this, didn’t know what to say. He’d never been in love before and had no idea what she expected from him.
“I mean, you appear to enjoy your evenings with any man, except me, who escorts you to supper.”
“If that’s what you think—”
“It is.”
She let her arms drop and searched for calm. Rachel had always been even tempered, rarely letting anything or anyone get to her. Even in the army hospital, with cannons thundering around them and guns blasting, rocking the tables where they worked, she’d been steady. Everything changed when Dax entered her life. She’d been on edge, fighting for control from almost the first time they’d met. Now he stood before her, making statements which made no sense.
“Fine. I see no reason for us to spend any more time together.” She turned toward the clinic, lifting her skirt so as not to trip, and stomped down the boardwalk. She made it to her front door when an arm reached in front her, blocking the entrance to the house.
Dax stood next to her, his face impassive. “I apologize if I offended you. It was not my intention.”
“What was your intention?” She turned toward him. He could see the confusion in her eyes. He felt the same—confused and conflicted. The evening had turned out nothing like he’d hoped.
“My intention was to spend an evening with you and share my news, hoping you’d be pleased with the decision.”
“I am pleased.” She took a step back, his nearness almost overwhelming. “You’re a good man, honest and caring. Perhaps you’ll find peace in Splendor.”
“I hope so.” His voice sounded hollow and distant. He bent down to place a kiss on her cheek. “Goodnight, Rachel.”
“Goodnight, Dax.”
Rachel sat on her bed, rereading both of the telegrams she’d received in response to her advertisement. Mr. Griggs at the telegraph office had sent her information to Denver, Independence, Kansas City, and Big Pine with a request to pass it along to the local newspaper. One had been sent by a widower in his thirties with a ranch near Denver. The other from a businessman in Kansas City. He didn’t give his age or if he’d been married. Neither mentioned children. Both indicated they’d be sending a letter with more information.
She set them aside and crawled under the covers, wondering if she’d made a mistake in being so bold. She knew of no other woman who’d ever resorted to placing an advertisement for a husband. Men did it, searching for wives by placing ads in eastern newspapers. Although the number of women traveling west had increased, there still seemed to be a notable shortage of women available for marriage.
She thought it’d be easier to meet someone suitable who already lived out west and knew the challenges. After all, she did expect him to be the main supporter for a family.
She buried her face in her hands and felt a growing sense of unease. Mr. Griggs had assured her he’d keep the contents of her telegram and any responses private, yet she felt a tinge of doubt. For a moment, she wished she could go back in time and pull her scribbled note from Griggs’ hand. How humiliated she’d be if someone knew what she’d
done. She didn’t need her uncle or anyone else in Splendor to discover her decision to identify a suitable man.
Although the days had warmed, the nights still felt chilly, and she pulled a blanket up under her chin. She thought again of the two responses and wondered if either of these men were anywhere near as handsome as Dax. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t doing this to find a replacement for the man she loved. She knew it wouldn’t happen. Her reasons were quite sensible, not at all associated with seeking love. She couldn’t have the man she wanted, so she’d find someone who could accept her for the woman she was—hardworking, honest, kind, and with a desire to have a family before she got too old. She’d get over Dax and never look back.
He could take his ranch and, well…jump down a deep, dark hole.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Let me get this straight. You took Rachel to supper, told her the news, and she acted indifferent?” Luke had a hard time believing she hadn’t launched herself into Dax’s arms at the news.
“That’s what I’m saying.” Dax swung hay into the feeder outside the barn. The hard labor felt good, causing his muscles to burn while sweat dripped from his face in the early afternoon heat. He’d lain awake most of the night, replaying in his mind the conversation with Rachel, still not understanding her response. How could she declare her love for him a few weeks before, then act as if his decision to stay meant nothing to her?
Luke removed his hat, pumped water into his hands, and splashed it on his face and neck. Even with the heat, the temperature topped out nowhere near the scorching days of a Texas summer or the thick dampness of Savannah. The sky had turned a deep blue with patches of white clouds passing thousands of feet above. They’d been told to enjoy the clear skies while they could. Thunderstorms could break loose at any time, without warning, sometimes causing flash floods and making roads impassable for days.
Still, Luke felt fortunate. He woke up each day to an incredible sunrise and sweeping vistas. And Dax had decided to stay.
“You told her why you’ve decided to stay, right?”
“Of course I told her. It didn’t seem to matter.”
Luke scrubbed a hand over his face, still unable to comprehend Rachel’s reaction, or lack thereof, to Dax’s news. Well, all women were a mystery, no doubt about it. Maybe she’d given up after he told her his plans to leave. Perhaps in time, after it became obvious he had no plans to return to Texas, she’d come around and give them another chance.
“What are you going to do now?”
“Leave her alone, at least for a while. We need to concentrate on the ranch anyway. I plan to ride to Big Pine later this week for supplies I can’t find in Splendor. Why don’t you come with me?”
“I believe I will. It might be time for us to check the local saloon and see what kind of mischief we can get ourselves into.” Luke smiled at the thought of having a couple of nights out without the prying eyes of the well-meaning citizens of Splendor. Life in a small town could be wonderful, but it could certainly cut into your social activities.
“Hello, Bernie. What brings you here?”
“Morning, Doc. Is Miss Rachel at home?”
“She’s out back. Come inside and I’ll get her for you. How about something to drink while you wait?”
“No, thanks. I have to get back to the office.” Bernie stood inside, thinking it may have been best to send word to Rachel about the letters instead of coming here. It could be hard to pass them off to her without the doc seeing. He thought a moment, then shuffled the order of the letters.
“Bernie Griggs is here to see you.” Charles watched as she hung the last of the wet clothes on the line and smiled to himself. He couldn’t remember a time he’d ever seen her mother, his sister, do laundry.
Rachel glanced over her shoulder at her uncle, hoping Mr. Griggs hadn’t said anything to him. “I’ll be right in.”
She wiped her hands on the apron she wore and followed Charles into the house. “Hello, Mr. Griggs. You wanted to see me?”
“That’s right. A letter came for you. Looks like it might be from your mother.” He held out three envelopes, hoping the doctor didn’t pay too much attention.
Rachel grasped the letters and looked down at the first one. Sure enough, it had come from her mother. “Why, it is from my mother. Thanks so much for bringing it by.” She flashed a grateful smile at Bernie.
“No problem at all, Miss Rachel. Hope it’s good news. Well, I’d best be going.”
She stuffed the other two envelopes into her apron pocket and tore open the one from her mother. Most of the time, her mother’s letters were filled with news of Boston, who’d gotten married or had children. This one was different.
“Uncle Charles, listen to this.” She walked to the kitchen and began to read.
I don’t want you to worry, but your father has been ill for several weeks. His doctor believes he’s working too much and needs rest. Of course, he’s ignored the advice, at least up until a week ago. I had to take him to the hospital as he couldn’t stop coughing. The doctor told him, in no uncertain terms, he needs a change, at least for a few months.
If it wouldn’t be too much of a burden, I thought we’d travel to visit you and Charles. Is there room for us, or would we need to make other arrangements? Please let me know as soon as you discuss this with Charles. I hope to hear good news from you soon. Love, Mother.
She looked up at her uncle and saw a grin split his face. “You know, it may be what your mother needs to convince herself you’re all right and not being held captive by the savages she’s so certain surround us.” He chuckled at the thought of his sister coming across the country by rail, then by stagecoach, and finally by wagon to Splendor. He wondered if she realized what the journey involved.
“We do have the third bedroom.”
“It’ll be good for them to share a room.”
Rachel shot a look at her uncle, then started to laugh. She couldn’t remember her mother and father ever sharing a bedroom. Of course, they would’ve had to share a bed at some point. She was proof of it.
“I suppose if it’s too much for them, we can get Suzanne to put them up at her boardinghouse.” She folded the letter and stuck in her apron with the others. “I guess I’ll walk to the telegraph office and send a reply.”
She dashed outside, then stepped between two buildings and pulled out the other two envelopes, one from Denver and the other from Kansas City. She looked around, making sure she was alone, and ripped the first one open.
Jeremy DeWitt owned a cattle ranch north of Denver. His wife had died a few years before while giving birth to a son, who was now three years old. Mr. DeWitt said their life was good, except his son needed a mother. Her heart tugged at the void she’d be able to fill, and perhaps there’d be the likelihood of other children. She’d mentioned it in her ad—she wanted a family. Rachel broke away from her thoughts and read the last line of his letter.
Would you be able to move to Colorado?
She shook her head, knowing a move to Colorado would be impossible. Her mail order husband would need to come to Splendor. She folded Jeremy’s letter and stuffed it into her apron, then opened the second one.
The contents had the slight smell of roses as if the oil from petals had been used on the paper. The writing held a distinct flourish, more common of female writers. She unfolded the letter and began to read. Asa Smythe owned a number of establishments in Kansas City, as well as other towns. Managers handled the daily operations and he found himself living the life of someone with much free time. He had never been married. His unencumbered status made it easy for him to live wherever he wanted. Her eyes lit on the second to last sentence—Asa was fifty-three years old. Rachel nearly choked. He was thirty years her senior.
It ended with a question.
Would you be available to spend time with me if I traveled to Montana?
Two responses, neither suitable. She’d wait. Rachel folded the second letter and returned it to her apron
, then walked the short distance to the telegraph office. She had to get a response back to her mother.
“Hello, Mr. Griggs.”
“Hello, Rachel. I was going to go back by your house after work, but now there’s no need.” He pulled a letter from behind the counter and held it out. “I must’ve dropped this in my hurry to get to your place earlier.”
Rachel took the letter, noticing it had been sent from Independence. “Thank you.”
Bernie lowered his voice. “Any good news from the others?”
She shook her head. “Both are interesting, but neither are right.”
“Perhaps that one will be perfect.” He glanced at the letter in her hand, then looked up as someone entered the office. “Hello, Horace. I’ll be right with you.”
“No hurry, Bernie. Good afternoon, Miss Davenport,” the banker said.
“Hello, Mr. Clausen.”
“What can I do for you, Rachel?” Bernie asked.
“I need to send a response to my mother’s letter, but it needs to get to her right away. I assume a telegram would be best.”
“Yes. She might even have it by this evening. Tell me what you’d like to say.”
Dearest Mother, Please come right away. We are excited to see you. Let us know your arrival date. Love, Rachel.
“I’ll get this right out.”
“Thank you, Mr. Griggs. I’d better get to back to the clinic. Good afternoon, Mr. Clausen.”
Once more, she ducked between buildings, glanced around, and opened the newest letter. The name at the top read Orin Coker. He had sold his ranch near Independence and wanted to start over in either Montana or Colorado. His parents had passed years before, he’d never married, had a good bit of money set aside, and was twenty-seven years old. If she needed someone who talked a lot, he might not be the best choice as people told him he was pretty shy. Other than that, he said he was pretty normal.
A soft chuckle escaped her lips at his choice of words. Orin said he stood five foot ten and, to the best of his knowledge, he weighed around a hundred and ninety pounds. He ended the letter by saying he was free to travel to Splendor to meet with her.
Redemption's Edge: Book 1, Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance Page 29
