Deep River (Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance Book 7)

by Shirleen Davies

  “That someone does not have to be you.”

  Crossing his arms, Beau leaned against the doorframe, undeterred by her protests. “Then who?”

  Closing her eyes, her mind scanned those who might be able to watch her for a few days. “Rosemary?”

  Beau’s face clouded, his smile fading.

  “What?” Caro’s brows knitted together, her gaze searching his.

  He pushed away from the door, pacing the small room. “She’s been up all night with Dirk Masters. They don’t know if he’s going to make it.”

  “He was shot?” Caro’s hand went to her mouth.

  “The son of a gun shot two of the outlaws before one of them hit him in the chest. He bled pretty bad. Doc had a hard time—almost lost him more than once.” Beau had been up more than once to see how Dirk was doing. Both times, Rosemary sat next to the bed, holding his hand in hers, clutching a Bible in her lap.

  Dirk and Bull had been the ones to find Rosemary, her brother, Ben, and two other orphans when they rustled cattle from the Pelletiers. Gabe, Dax, and Luke had put the fear of God in each of them before coming to an agreement about working off what they’d stolen by helping at the ranch. During her time staying at Redemption’s Edge, Rosemary and Dirk had earned a reputation for reacting to each other the same as water and kerosene. There’d been times Rachel had thought they might come to blows.

  Although several years younger than Dirk, Rosemary never gave an inch, testing him every time he gave an order until he’d been ready to take her over his knee. The one thing saving everyone’s sanity was Rosemary’s request to learn nursing from Rachel’s uncle, Doc Worthington, and his associate, Clay.

  With Worthington visiting back east, Clay and Rosemary worked together, giving rise to speculation about them being sweet on each other. Watching her tonight as she kept a close vigil over Dirk, he wondered if what they felt for each other was animosity or something much different.

  “Poor Dirk.”

  Beau stopped pacing, his gaze locking on Caro. “We have to believe he’ll make it. According to Rosemary, he’s too darn ornery to die.”

  “Let’s hope she’s right.”

  Picking up the blanket, Beau wrapped it around her shoulders. “Let’s get you home before too many people are in the street.”

  “No, Beau. I simply cannot stay with you.”

  “It’s for the best.”

  “I can’t. Why can’t you understand?”

  “There’s nothing to understand. You’ve been hurt.” A grin turned up the corners of his mouth. “You need someone to keep watch on you a few days, Caro, and I’m the man for the job.”

  She would’ve found his insistence endearing if the real reason for her discomfort wasn’t so painful. He’d made it abundantly clear he didn’t want her in his life as more than a friend. The realization of what she’d lost was still too raw for more than a neighborly nod when they passed on the street. In time, she hoped she could give him the friendship he wanted, but that day had yet to come. For now, Caro needed to be as far away from Beau as possible, not sharing a house with him tending to her.

  Lowering her gaze, she focused on the floor, her voice a mere whisper. “I can’t be around you, Beau. Please, try to understand.”

  Stepping closer, he lifted her chin with a finger, his face somber. “I haven’t given up on us, Caro. I hope you haven’t, either.”

  Her eyes widened. “But—”

  Touching her lips with his finger, he silenced her. “Let me take care of you. We’ll figure it out as we go along.” Brushing a quick kiss across her lips, he didn’t give her time to protest before slipping his arms around her, lifting her to his chest. For the first time in what seemed like forever, his world began to feel right.

  “He hasn’t woken up yet, Doctor.”

  Clay looked at Rosemary, noting the dark circles and red-rimmed eyes. Not for the first time, he wondered if her feelings for Dirk were deeper than most believed. “Let me have a look.”

  Checking Dirk’s bandages, he let out a relieved sigh at finding no signs of infection. “The bleeding is under control. His pulse and heart rate are steady. Given time, and the lack of infection, Mr. Masters just might make it.” He turned, gripping Rosemary’s arm and squeezing. “I see you have your Bible.”

  Shrugging, she let her gaze wander down Dirk’s chest, now wrapped in a thick bandage. “I thought it might help.”

  “Medicine isn’t perfect, Rosemary. I’m certain Dirk will appreciate whatever help we can give him.”

  “Hello? Doctor McCord, are you in there?”

  “I’ll be back in a moment, Rosemary.” Walking to the door of the exam room, he pushed it open, a grin spreading across his face. “Good morning, Miss Barnett. I hope you aren’t ill.” From the first time Clay met Nick Barnett’s daughter, Olivia, she had a strange effect on him. With her dark brown hair and green eyes, she turned heads wherever she went. Although friendly, she never seemed to let her guard down, always keeping her distance.

  “No, I’m fine. It’s my father and Mrs. Briar.”

  Clay’s face grew serious. “Are Nick and Suzanne all right?”

  “Oh, they’re fine. It’s just, well…they’ve decided not to wait any longer to get married. They plan to have a ceremony this weekend and hope you’ll be able to attend. I know it isn’t fashionable to post invitations this way, but…” She shrugged, a slight tinge of red coloring her cheeks. Like everything else about her, Clay found it appealing.

  “Of course I’ll attend. Rosemary Thayer is in the back.” He glanced over his shoulder.

  “Oh, she’s also invited. Nick has sent word to the Pelletiers and a few other ranchers, as well as their other friends in town.” She bit her lower lip, her gaze darting around the room. “Well, I suppose I should be going.”

  Although he knew he shouldn’t, Clay searched for a reason for her to stay longer. At twenty-eight, he couldn’t hope to garner the attention of a nineteen-year-old beauty such as Olivia. Still…

  “Perhaps one evening after the wedding, you’ll allow me to escort you to supper.”

  Her brows lifted, mouth curving into an infectious smile. “Why, that would be lovely, Doctor McCord.”

  A warmth and anticipation he hadn’t felt in a long time moved through him. “Wonderful. We’ll speak at the wedding and confirm a day.”

  She nodded, the flush on her cheeks deepening. “I really should go. I look forward to seeing you this weekend.”

  Clay watched her leave, a little of the sadness he’d experienced in his life going with her.

  Beau leaned against the door frame of his bedroom, watching Caro sleep. It had been two days since he’d spirited her out of the clinic and into the small house behind the jail. Two days of sleeping in his bedroll on the floor next to where she slept.

  More than once, he had to suppress the urge to stretch out on the bed, wrap her in his arms, and draw her against his chest. Listening to her soft breathing, the slight noises she made as she slept had almost been his undoing.

  He’d given a lot of thought to Caro and their stormy relationship. Except it hadn’t been stormy until her return from San Francisco. Before she left, they’d shared so many memorable times. They’d been careful while in public, keeping their relationship and assignations private. A few of their closest friends knew, others guessing at their connection after she left. He’d never realized the extent to which a man could love a woman. Not until she no longer held a place in his life.

  Her return had thrown him into a bout of denial, blinding him to his true feelings, pushing an even greater wedge between them. He’d been sure she’d leave again, unable to find happiness in the small frontier town where he’d made his home. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

  By this time next year, he’d be in his own place, and he didn’t want to live there alone. He wanted Caro to join him.

  “I can’t stay here forever, Beau. At some point, I’ll have to go back to the hotel.”

  Caro�
��s words jolted him from his private musings. Pushing away from the door, he walked toward the bed. “I didn’t know you were awake.”

  She pushed up, sitting with her back against the headboard, the covers drawn up under her chin. “I’ve been watching you for a few minutes. You were so deep in thought, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took her hand in his. “You could never disturb me, Caro.”

  She wished she could say the same about him. “I doubt that’s true. I seem to have disturbed you a great deal since returning from California.”

  He chuckled, then sobered, remembering his first glimpse of her at the Pelletier’s party after she’d arrived back in Splendor. She’d returned from San Francisco the day before, arriving at the ranch unannounced, surprising everyone.

  “I never expected you to return.”

  Her lips drew into a thin line. Squeezing his hand, she let out a shaky breath. “Looking back, I should have sent you a message asking if you still wanted me. It would’ve saved both of us more hurt.”

  “And if my reply was I’d met someone else, would you have still returned?”

  Closing her eyes, she drew in a slow breath. “I don’t know.” Then she shook her head. “Probably not.” No matter how much she wanted a life in Splendor, it would’ve been too painful to watch him build a life with someone else.

  A weary smile tilted up the corners of his mouth. “Well, you’re here now and it doesn’t appear you’re going anywhere.”

  Opening her eyes, her back stiffened. “I’m definitely not going anywhere. In fact, my house will be ready to move into within a few days. By Christmas, I’ll be settled. In fact, I plan to have a housewarming party. You’ll be invited, of course…although I doubt you’ll be inclined to attend.”

  Beau winced, knowing he’d been the one to state he had no intention of visiting once she moved in. Cupping her face in his hands, he locked his gaze with hers. “If you want me there, I’ll come.”

  Caro studied him, her heart pounding. She wanted nothing more than for him to lean in and kiss her the way he used to. The same as she wanted for the last two days. Instead, he’d been a total gentleman—caring for her, cooking meals, checking her wound. She no longer wanted to be pampered. She wanted Beau to love her again, make love to her the way he used to, with a passion that left her breathless and wanting more.

  As if in answer to her prayers, Caro’s breath caught as he leaned in, brushing his lips over hers. It was gentle, tentative, as if he were asking permission. Caro didn’t let him wait long. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she deepened the kiss, hearing a deep groan of approval from Beau.

  Breaking the kiss, he drew her down, stretching out beside her, whispering in her ear. “I want you, Caro.”

  She searched his face, seeing the raw emotion in his eyes. “For how long?”

  Stroking a thumb across her lower lip, he spoke what was in his heart. “As long as you’ll have me.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Beau sat in a chair in his front room, tears welling in his eyes as he glanced again at the letter he’d received from his father that afternoon. They’d received the latest payment for the care of his sister, Genevieve. Written in the broad, flourishing sweep of his father’s hand, the message informed him they wouldn’t be needing further monies as Genevieve had passed away in her sleep a few nights before. The letter continued, but Beau’s mind stilled on the news of her death.

  By the time the letter reached him, she’d been gone for weeks, the services well in the past. His heart squeezed, knowing he’d never hear the final words said over her grave, the tribute to a vivacious girl whose future had been cut short by a brother who’d allowed himself to become distracted. No one blamed him. There’d been no recriminations, no hushed words of blame said behind his back. Everyone had absolved the twelve-year-old Beauregard Davis, except the boy himself. Now sweet Genevieve was gone, and so was a part of his life he’d never be able to reclaim.

  “Beau?” Caro walked in the front door, dropping to her knees in front of him. “What’s wrong?”

  His throat swelled with emotion, aching at the reality of his father’s news. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he handed Caro the letter. The night before, they’d talked of many things, including regrets. She’d been the only person he’d shared all the details about Genevieve with, the guilt he carried with him, the financial support he provided. Caro’s carefully uttered words soothed him, insisting he was doing all he could, contending he shouldn’t blame himself for an accident out of his control. He’d held her afterward, resting his chin on the top of her head, doing his best to accept what she’d said.

  Finishing the last line, shaking her head, Caro handed the letter back to him. “I’m so sorry. After last night, hearing what happened, I’d hoped to meet Genevieve someday.” As she wrapped her arms around him, all Beau could think about was how he’d lost a sister who’d owned a piece of his heart and how close he’d come to losing another woman who meant so much to him.

  “One more day, Caro. That’s all I’m asking.” Beau slid his legs into his pants the following morning, pulling them up to rest on the curve of his hips, turning toward her. “I’ll ride out this morning, talk to your men, then come back with a list of any additional supplies. Tomorrow, we’ll go out together and deliver them.” Seeing Caro’s gaze focus on his bare chest, then move lower, his brows lifted, a smile playing across his lips as he chuckled. “You’re insatiable.”

  Immediately looking away, her face flushed. “I have no idea what you’re referring to, Mr. Davis.”

  He leaned down, dropping a kiss on her lips. “Oh, I think you do.”

  With a feigned gasp of disbelief, she threw off the covers, intending to dress and go with him. Standing, she lifted a hand to touch the wound on her forehead, feeling woozy. Steadying herself against the bed, she sat back down.

  Beau watched, making no move to her side of the bed. “Now will you stay?”

  She scowled, her lips twisting in exasperation. “Fine, but I’m going out tomorrow whether you approve or not.”

  “I’ll ask Doc McCord to stop by later today. As long as he says you’re fine…” He shrugged, ignoring her irritated expression. Moving around the bed, he sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You gave me a bad scare. All I’m asking is for Clay to check on you once more.” Brushing a kiss across her lips, he stood. “I need to let Gabe know I’ll be gone for a few hours. Do you need anything before I leave?”

  The way he tended to treat her as a child infuriated Caro, while making her feel loved and cared for at the same time. He’d made it clear his concern came from a combination of love and fear. As he’d said last night, holding her in his arms, a fraction of an inch change in the wound’s location and he’d be standing by her grave instead of making love to her. Rather than being resentful at his controlling attitude, she tried to keep those thoughts in her mind.

  “No, I’ll be fine. Please let the men know I’ll be out tomorrow.” She settled against the headboard, pulled the covers up, and crossed her arms, daring him to argue with her.

  He nodded, his expression bland. “I’ll give them your best.” Before she could respond, he grabbed his hat and left, not hearing her annoyed sigh.

  “You sure you don’t mind me leaving town for a few hours?” Beau stood next to Gabe, who sat outside the jail, taking a rare break.

  “Go ahead. With the Dawson gang taken care of, I suspect it will be pretty quiet around here for a while.” Gabe leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms. Even with his coat, the cold winter wind pierced through his clothes. “I suppose you’ll be moving in with Caro.”

  Beau startled. They’d agreed to give their relationship another try. He felt certain it would end in marriage, but after her response the last time he asked her, he didn’t want to think too far ahead.

  “She hasn’t invited me and I haven’t asked. Besides, I’ll have my own place by this time n
ext year.”

  Gabe nodded, a grin tipping up the corners of his mouth. “It sure will be convenient to ride between Caro’s house and your new place.”

  Beau snorted, not responding. If they married, he hoped she’d move into his house. Right now, he didn’t want to speculate or bring it up to Caro. “I’d better get going. I need to pick up more food for Caro’s men before I head out.”

  Once his errand was done and he’d secured the food in his saddlebags, Beau grabbed Smoke’s reins, mounting in one smooth movement. Glancing up at a sky dotted with a few white clouds, he felt a chill as the wind picked up. Christmas would soon be upon them, and if the last couple years were any indication, the town could expect to spend it in a couple feet of snow.

  Leaving town, he thought of how he and Caro had seemed to settle the rift between them. He’d come to believe she’d be staying in Splendor with or without him in her life. The thought of her with another man wasn’t acceptable, not even thinkable. They loved each other. Now they had to find a way to make it last without letting old wounds get in the way.

  Whistling, he turned his thoughts to the house he planned to build. The plans were drawn, Bull already committing to help him. He felt confident there’d be others needing work. With the money left in the account from his grandfather, he’d be able to create a comfortable place for him and Caro where they could raise a family.

  A brief surge of guilt washed over him at the reason he no longer had to horde the funds. He’d vowed to use little of it as long as Genevieve lived. Accepting the truth was bittersweet. He thought of his sister, knowing if she’d lived, she and Caro would’ve been fast friends. His parents would love her as much as he did. Once his house was built, he promised himself to find time to take her back east. It had been too long since he’d been home.

  Reining left at the split in the trail, Beau looked once more at the sky. Clouds were moving in, shifting into a pattern indicating snow. He’d meet with the men, deliver the food, find out what else they needed, then head back to town. To Caro, he thought as her house came into sight.