Rekindled

by Tamera Alexander

  “I’ll pull on down the street, Miss Kathryn,” Gabe called from the wagon. “You just wait here for me when you come out. I’ll watch for you.”

  Kathryn looked back and nodded her thanks. But as Gabe maneuvered the wagon through the traffic, she found she wasn’t ready to face Harold Kohlman yet. She sat on a nearby bench and watched the crowds of people passing her without notice.

  She hadn’t dared ask Jacob to bring her into town this morning, not after what had happened between them last night. She’d seen him outside the stable earlier that morning. He’d acknowledged her but hadn’t spoken. Clearly she’d hurt him, and that had never been her intention. It’s just that when he’d come so close to her, when he’d started to kiss her, she’d felt traitorous to Larson’s memory. Kathryn brushed her fingertips over her lips. Still . . . she couldn’t help but wonder what it would’ve been like to taste Jacob’s kiss.

  She closed her eyes as heartrending images of his scarred flesh rose in her mind. White-furrowed slashes that ran deep across his chest and abdomen as though the fire had clawed him raw. Compassion welled inside her, and her eyes burned. She couldn’t imagine what pain he must have suffered. No wonder Jacob feared the flame. Any man would.

  Lord, continue to heal Jacob, inside and out. I find myself attracted to him in a way that doesn’t even make sense to me. It frightened her because, in some ways, what she felt for Jacob surpassed what she had ever felt for Larson. But it was different. With Larson, she had first longed for his touch, then desired his heart. With Jacob, she’d delighted in discovering who he was before wanting more from him. And she did want more, that was clear to her.

  Kathryn stood, forcing her thoughts to the task at hand. She entered the bank building and crossed the crowded lobby to where Mr. Kohlman’s personal secretary was seated behind her desk. Kathryn knew her visit was probably unwarranted, but since meeting with MacGregor last night, she couldn’t seem to shake the persistent doubt in the back of her mind.

  Desperately hoping the answer to her question would be no, she interrupted the woman’s work. “Good morning, Miss Stacey. Is Mr. Kohlman in? I need to speak with him about my loan.”

  The attractive brunette shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Jennings, but he’s in Denver on business today. He’ll be back in the office first thing in the morning.” Her gaze lowered. “Do you have long before the baby’s set to arrive?”

  She smoothed a hand over the full swell beneath her dress, certain her excitement showed in her face. “The doctor says I probably have at least two more weeks. He told me to continue with my normal activities as much as I can, but the sooner this baby arrives, the better, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Two more weeks? You certainly don’t look that far along. I understand the last weeks can be very uncomfortable.” Miss Stacey’s smile turned sympathetic. “Perhaps there’s something I can help you with in Mr. Kohlman’s absence?”

  Relieved at not having to deal with the banker, Kathryn forged ahead. “This is simply a formality, but I need to confirm that the funds I was loaned for my property have been appropriately credited to my account. When I last came in about a month ago, the transfer had been approved, but the actual payoff of the loan was still pending.” That particular meeting with Mr. Kohlman had left Kathryn with a sense of disquiet. She much preferred having the information confirmed with someone other than him.

  “Oh, well, I’m certain they’ve come through by now.” Mr. Kohlman’s secretary rose from behind her desk. “Just give me a minute to pull your file and I’ll check the balance for you.” She walked to a side door and into another office.

  After several minutes, she reappeared with a puzzled look. “Mrs. Jennings, I’m sorry, but I can’t seem to locate your file. If you have a moment to wait, I’ll check Mr. Kohlman’s office.” She returned seconds later, file in hand and triumph written in her expression. “It was on Mr. Kohlman’s desk. He must be handling your transaction personally.”

  Her raised brow told Kathryn that she considered Kohlman’s personal attention something to be coveted. Unfortunately, Kathryn didn’t hold that same view, but sharing her opinion would gain nothing. “I appreciate your help finding it. Like I said, I’m sure everything’s been taken care of by now, but I want to be certain.”

  “That’s understandable. It’s always wise to double-check these things.” Miss Stacey opened the file and flipped through the papers from front to back, then shuffled through them again. Her frown didn’t bolster Kathryn’s confidence.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “Mrs. Jennings, are you certain you arranged for your loan to be paid off?”

  Kathryn stepped closer. “Yes, I’m completely certain. Mr. Kohlman assured me the funds would be transferred a month ago. Are you telling me they haven’t been?” She leaned forward in an effort to read the papers on top.

  The young woman snapped the file shut. “If you’ll come back tomorrow, I’m confident Mr. Kohlman can clear everything up for you. Perhaps he simply hasn’t added the appropriate paper work to your file.”

  Kathryn sensed she knew more. “Miss Stacey, I need to know whether my loan has been paid off or not.”

  The woman laid a hand on the file atop her desk. “I’m sorry, but I can’t say for sure.”

  Frustration sliced through Kathryn’s patience. “But you can at least tell me what the file says.”

  As though weighing that thought, Miss Stacey leaned to the side and glanced past Kathryn toward the main lobby. “Mrs. Jennings,” she said, her voice lowering. “Technically the files are the property of the bank and are considered private, not to be shared with clients.” She hesitated. “This could have been left in your file from before, but . . . the file states that your land is scheduled for auction day after tomorrow at noon on the steps of the Denver courthouse.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  DID YOU OR DID you not pay off my loan as we agreed, Mr. MacGregor?” Kathryn’s anger at discovering his possible deception had steadily mounted through the day, and when he arrived home late that evening, she struggled to keep her voice even.

  MacGregor took off his coat and tossed it over a chair. A look of annoyance flashed in his eyes before he smiled. “Kathryn, how wonderful to see you this evening. I wish I could be sayin’ you look well, lass, but I’m afraid you appear a bit agitated. And that’ll hardly do for someone in your condition.”

  His blatant patronizing only incensed Kathryn further. A servant passed through the foyer and into the study. “Just answer my question,” she insisted, not caring at the moment who heard or that he was her employer. If MacGregor’s actions matched her speculations, she wouldn’t be working here much longer anyway. “Did you or did you not—”

  MacGregor took hold of her arm and guided her to the stairs. “Let’s discuss this in my office, shall we? I’d prefer we not have an audience, my dear.” Kathryn preceded him upstairs, and he quietly closed the office door behind them. “I don’t know what’s happened to upset you, Kathryn, but I assure you everything is in order as we agreed.”

  “That’s not what Miss Stacey said when I visited the bank this morning.”

  He came to stand before her in front of the desk.

  “There is no notice of payment in my file. No record listing the transfer of funds. Nothing!” A sharp stitch in her midsection brought a gasp. She put a hand on the desk for support.

  “You’d best be calmin’ yourself, lass. Like I said, it won’t do for you to be gettin’ yourself upset over nothin’. Perhaps the notice simply hasn’t been put in your file yet.”

  “You gave me your word that the deed to my property would be put in my file.” She pressed a hand to her abdomen as the pain subsided. “The last thing put in my file was an auction notice for my land to be sold the day after tomorrow. If you can’t produce the deed to my land, Mr. MacGregor, I’ll be forced to take my copy of the contract to an attorney in town first thing tomorrow morning.”

  All civility
vanished from his expression. “You go see whomever you like in the mornin’, dear. I’ll drive you there myself.” He laughed and shook his head. “And were you referrin’ to the copy that you kept in your trunk, by chance? The trunk in the corner of your bedroom? Come now, Mrs. Jennings, did you really think I would loan you that kind of money? I told you the night we had dinner what a risk you were.”

  A chill snaked through her. “You lied to me? The entire time?”

  His mouth tipped in a smirk. “Hard to believe, isn’t it, Mrs. Jennings? And me bein’ such a fine gentleman and all.”

  Kathryn felt like the fool she’d been. But her injured pride lashed out. “Perhaps I’ll contact an attorney I know and ask him to investigate this for me. Maybe suggest that he inquire about Berklyn Stockholders.”

  MacGregor’s eyes went dark. “You may contact whomever you like. I told you ranching was no business for a woman. I hope you’ve learned your lesson.” He jerked his chin toward the door. “You can show yourself out now. I’ll give you till tomorrow afternoon to have your things removed from Casaroja, or I’ll have them removed for you.”

  Numb, Kathryn closed the office door behind her. What a fool she’d been. Matthew Taylor’s suspicions had proven right—she never should have trusted MacGregor. She felt her way down the darkened staircase, and even though the pains had receded, she still had trouble catching her breath. Her throat ached with emotion and her cheeks were damp with tears. All she could see was Larson’s face. His dream was ruined, and it had been her doing. I’m so sorry, Larson. Please forgive me.

  Wanting to avoid any servants who might still be awake, she left by way of the front entrance. The cool night air hit her face, and she gulped big breaths of it. Her first instinct was to go to the stable, but it was late—even the bunkhouses were dark.

  Besides, Jacob wouldn’t welcome her anyway. Not after last night.

  Kathryn locked the door to her cottage, wedged a kitchen chair beneath the doorknob, and crossed to the bedroom. She noticed the trunk in the corner and, on impulse, bent and began rummaging through the clothing, searching. If only she could remember, if only she could . . .

  Growing frantic, she shoved the top layers of clothing aside. Then she felt it. She held the shirt to her face and breathed in. Her throat constricted. Only the smell of cedar. Nothing else. She pulled another of Larson’s shirts from the trunk, and another. But his scent was gone.

  Kathryn crawled into bed fully clothed. She took the music box from her pocket, turned the key, and lifted the lid. As the Christmas tune played, random images filled her mind. The cabin draped in each of the four seasons, the towering blue spruce standing sentinel outside the kitchen window. She pictured Larson returning from having bathed in the stream, his damp hair reaching to his shoulders, droplets of water clinging to his muscled chest. She saw her mother’s smile and could almost remember the sound of her laughter. Almost . . .

  The images faded, and another face came into view. One with a timid, misshapen smile that communicated a tenderness words never could. She closed her eyes and could almost feel her hand being covered by his smooth, scarred one.

  The land was lost to her now, but strangely that wasn’t what hurt her most. This pain went far deeper. Somehow, it felt as though she were losing Larson all over again. The music box fell silent on the bed beside her, its last notes sounding appropriately hollow and desolate in the silence. Kathryn turned onto her side and pulled a pillow close to her chest, weary for sleep but needing even more to escape.

  A pounding on the door brought her fully awake. She blinked to clear the fuzz from her mind and ran a hand over her eyes. Sunshine streamed in through the bedroom window. It must be morning, but it felt as though she’d only drifted off moments ago. She pushed herself up off the bed and made her way to the door.

  More pounding. “Kathryn, are you all right?”

  Jacob. Hearing his voice triggered relief. Kathryn removed the wedged chair and opened the door to see Jacob and Miss Maudie standing on her doorstep. Worry clouded Miss Maudie’s expression. Jacob simply looked her up and down.

  “Are you all right?” he repeated. The gentleness in his voice gave Kathryn hope that perhaps their friendship might be repairable after all. It was surprising how deep the hope of that bond ran through her. “Miss Maudie came to get me when you didn’t show up this morning.”

  “I’m fine, Jacob. Miss Maudie,” she added, nodding. If Maudie hadn’t been there, Kathryn might have been tempted to walk straight into Jacob’s arms.

  Miss Maudie held out an envelope. “This just came for you, dear. The clerk said it was urgent.”

  Kathryn took it. Willow Springs Bank was stamped on the outside. She ripped it open, already anticipating the contents. As she’d suspected, Mr. Kohlman was requesting a meeting with her. Urgent, the note said. How urgent could the meeting be when she’d already lost her property? Nothing can snatch me out of your hands, Father, she reminded herself. I’m trusting in that.

  Jacob stepped closer. “What does it say?”

  “It’s a request from Mr. Kohlman to meet him at the bank this morning as soon as possible.”

  “I’ll get a wagon from the lower stable and be back shortly.”

  As Jacob hurried away, Miss Maudie laid a hand to her arm. “Kathryn dear, perhaps you need to leave this business for later and get some rest for you and your baby.”

  Kathryn ran a hand through her hair. A tempting thought, yet Kohlman’s request sounded pressing. Besides, the pains she’d experienced had stopped, and if the baby came while in town, Doc Hadley would be there to help. Kathryn searched Miss Maudie’s face, deciding that MacGregor hadn’t told the woman about his ordering her to leave Casaroja. Kathryn debated whether to get the dear woman involved, but what could Miss Maudie do? Besides, it would only create tension between them, and Maudie had been nothing but kind.

  Kathryn forced a smile. “I’ll head into town and see what Mr. Kohlman wants first. Then I’ll come back. I don’t think I could go back to sleep right now anyway.”

  Miss Maudie’s eyes lit. “Have you had any signs of the baby’s comin’ yet?”

  “Just a few pains last night.”

  “If you feel up to it, you and Jacob should stop by the harvest festival in town later today. The whole town turns out for it. Mr. MacGregor hosts a barbecue, and I’ll be helpin’ with that most of the day.” She patted Kathryn’s arm one last time. “If you need anything, send Jacob for me.”

  Thanking her, Kathryn spotted Jacob leading a team of horses from the stable. She quickly changed into a fresh dress, ran a brush through her hair and, for the baby’s sake, ate a piece of bread slathered with butter. A heaviness weighted her chest as she thought of the day ahead and of having to face Kohlman again, but the thought of having Jacob by her side made it bearable.

  She’d done her best to keep the land, but her best wasn’t good enough in the end, and she knew she had to let it go. Nothing she could say to Kohlman this morning would change that.

  Wagons already cluttered the field behind the church and choked the streets of town, even though the festival supposedly didn’t start until noon. Miss Maudie had been right—it looked as though everyone in the surrounding area would be in attendance, along with every cowboy in the territory.

  Kathryn glanced at Jacob sitting on the wagon bench beside her, glad he was there. “I see it fits well enough.”

  He reached up and touched the cap she’d knitted for him. “Like a glove,” he answered, laughing softly. “I’ve been wearing it.”

  “I’ve been noticing.”

  He shot her a quick look. “And I’ve been thanking God for its maker.”

  Kathryn sat speechless even after he’d turned around, wondering exactly when this gentle man had stolen so quietly into her life and captured her heart. Looking down, she twisted the gold band still adorning her left hand. How could she love two such different men with such unquestionable certainty?

  “This is abo
ut as close as we’re going to get to the bank.” Jacob set the brake and climbed down. “They have the road roped off ahead.”

  He offered Kathryn his hand and steadied her full frame as he lifted her down. Unlike that day at church, his hands didn’t linger about her waist this time. As though I still have a waist, she thought with brittle humor.

  “Would you like me to go in with you? Or . . . I can wait outside.”

  Looking up at him, Kathryn caught her faint reflection in his glasses and couldn’t help but think of Sadie. Sadie had seen a part of Jacob that remained hidden to her. “I’d love for you to come with me, if you don’t mind,” she said, taking his proffered arm. Warmth spread through her as he drew her close and maneuvered a path through the crowded streets.

  When they entered the bank, they found the lobby unusually quiet. Kathryn counted five employees and even fewer customers. She spotted Miss Stacey, Kohlman’s secretary, across the lobby.

  Miss Stacey rose as they approached. “Good morning, Mrs. Jennings.”

  Kathryn greeted her, keenly aware of the moment the woman looked at Jacob, because a frown replaced her smile before she hastily looked away.

  “I’ll let Mr. Kohlman know that you’re here.”

  “Thank you, Miss Stacey,” Kathryn answered, then turned to Jacob.

  He smiled.

  Clearly he’d grown accustomed to this reaction from people. Kathryn regretted, again, her first response at having seen his face. But as she looked at him now, admiration for him filled her, and she wanted only one thing. She’d already seen past his scars to the heart of the godly man within; now all she wanted was to look into Jacob’s eyes.

  Harold Kohlman rose from his desk, his brow creasing in obvious disapproval. “Mrs. Jennings, this meeting is of a most personal nature. Perhaps this man would prefer to wait outside.”