Tilly opened her mouth and then closed it again. What could she say that would make any sense of what she had experienced?
“Maybe I’m just a bit overwrought from dealing with Burma,” she offered.
“Not to the extent for you to be found sleeping like a baby in the middle of that landing, you aren’t,” Fliss snorted. “And when I spoke to Burma she said you were fine.”
“You spoke to her?” Tilly almost missed a step in surprise at Fliss’ admission.
“When I couldn’t find you, I suspected you might have gone to see her after all so I telephoned to her room.” Fliss lifted a shoulder in an offhand shrug.
“Well, thank you for that.” Tilly thought of all the warnings Fliss had given her. “That couldn’t have been easy for you.”
“It wasn’t, and I probably wouldn’t have bothered if it hadn’t been for Ryan coming to look for you.”
A little bump in her heart put a spring into Tilly’s step as they walked outside. She hadn’t given him a thought since this morning. Now, knowing that she’d missed seeing him gave her a physical ache. “Did he say where he’d be tonight?”
“He said he’d try to get to Sam’s later. I suppose we should go because I’m guessing you haven’t eaten anything since lunchtime.”
She hadn’t even thought about food and wasn’t even sure that she wanted anything, but Tilly washed up and tidied her hair anyway. Pulling the comb through her curls gave her time to consider what had happened to her that afternoon. There was nothing concrete, nothing she could put her finger on and say it was this or it was that. All she could remember was the shifting light and those ice-cold hands on hers.
That had to be her imagination. It couldn’t have been anything else. Yet something niggled at the edges of her mind, elusive but there. She tapped the end of the comb against her bottom lip as she concentrated on the wayward thought. It had something to do with Fliss, she was sure of it but nothing surfaced. She sighed. If she stopped trying to recall what it was, maybe it would come to her of its own accord.
A rap on the bathroom door brought her to her senses and she hurriedly finished tidying up.
“You certainly took your time,” Fliss said as they walked out into the evening sunshine. “You still look as pale as a ghost though.”
Ghost. The thought that had eluded her finally surfaced. It was the expression she had seen on Fliss’ face that first night when she had been telling them the story of the Ghost Bride. She hadn’t really wanted to tell it at all, Tilly thought now. The words had tumbled out as quickly as Fliss could form them and she had finished with, “End of story”, as if she wanted nothing more to do with it. Tilly recalled Fliss’ tight features and the way she pressed her lips together in a tight line. Saul had butted in then and made a joke of it and the moment had passed.
Tilly slowed her pace and caught Fliss’ arm. “You’ve seen her, haven’t you?”
“Seen who?” A wary look crept into Fliss’ eyes but Tilly’s grip on her arm prevented her from hurrying on.
“The Ghost Bride,” Tilly said. “You’ve seen her.”
Fliss shook off her hand and started forward again. “That’s only a silly story. Who’d believe a thing like that?”
“You do,” Tilly persisted. “I know it. And I saw her today too. Well, at least felt something.”
“You must have been feeling faint when you started down those stairs,” Fliss scoffed.
Tilly caught her arm again and spun her around. “Fliss, I felt perfectly fine when I started down stairs. No light-headedness, no weak knees or nausea. The air just changed. It felt charged like when there’s a thunderstorm blowing in and then I had a prickling sensation at the back of my neck similar to when Frederic’s around. But he wasn’t there. Then the lights flickered and something took hold of my hands.”
Tilly held out her hands, as if looking at them now could conjure up a firm impression of the sensation that cold grip had left her with.
“You were imagining things, Tilly.” Fliss now looked stubborn. “That story must have been in your subconscious and you just happened to recall it as you were coming down stairs.”
“No.” Tilly shook her head, her own stubborn streak beginning to surface. “When Saul continued on with the story, he said, ‘And some of the staff will tell you the same’. He meant you, didn’t he?”
Fliss puffed out her cheeks and anger sparked in her eyes. “He had no business saying that and you’re too sharp for your own good, but all right, yes, I did see something. Satisfied now?”
“I knew it.” The admission delighted Tilly. “Now tell me the rest of it.”
They had reached the horse corral. Fliss stopped and rested her arms along the top rail, staring across the dusty arena as if uncertain of what to say. “I’ve seen her twice now, once in the ballroom and then at the top of the stairs where she was supposed to have fallen.”
“You didn’t feel her? She didn’t touch you?” Tilly asked.
Fliss shook her head. “Nope. She was just there, or maybe she wasn’t. How should I know? It could have all just been my imagination as I’m sure it was yours.”
Tilly shook her head. “I don’t believe it was and I don’t believe you’ve told me everything. Come on, Fliss. It’s not like I’m not going to believe you after my own experience.”
“Oh, good Lord,” Fliss huffed. “Are you practising to be a nagging wife?”
“I’ll give up when you do,” Tilly promised.
Fliss sighed. “Alright. When I was in the ballroom I thought I saw a shadow passing across the floor. It came closer and I looked up, not sure what could have made it. And then I saw her. She was dancing and looked so happy. She smiled at me and then she was gone.”
“And the next time?”
“I was going up the stairs and she just appeared at the top of the flight.” Fliss closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “She held up a gold ring threaded onto a chain, smiled at me and said, “I know”.”
Both girls fell silent. A hopeful crow settled on the fence a little way from them. When no reward for its bobbing and weaving performance was forthcoming, it flew off with raucous complaint into the tops of the trees on the far side of the corral.
“Not a figment of your imagination then,” Tilly said quietly.
Fliss turned her head. “No, I don’t think so. When I told Saul he thought maybe it was a result of my guilty conscience.”
“But you’ve got nothing to be guilty about.” The brief expression of hurt and defeat that Tilly saw in Fliss’ eyes caught her by surprise.
“No?” Fliss shrugged and sighed. “Well, maybe not, but I would so love to wear my ring on my finger and not have to hide it. The only time we do wear our rings is when Saul and I are alone together. It somehow makes us closer.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing else you and Saul could do?” Tilly asked.
“Oh, come on, Tilly.” Fliss straightened up. “You know what it’s like right now. If Saul left this job he’d likely finish up in one of those government work camps for single, unemployed men and they’re treated no better than slave labor. They work on roads, in construction and whatever else is needed all for twenty cents a day. No one can live on that.”
Tilly nodded. “Yes, and I read about the On-to-Ottawa unemployment march that left Calgary in June. They only got as far as Regina where the whole thing finished in riots. The police tried to blame it on the marchers, but by all accounts it was the police action that caused all the rioting. I suppose we are really lucky to be here.”
A line of trail riders emerged from between the trees, catching their attention. They fell silent as the horses shuffled into the corral, heading for their own spot against the fence.
“Can you imagine what it must be like to have enough money to come and stay here, to afford to go riding and tour around sight-seeing? I wonder if they know how lucky they are.” Fliss sounded quite envious.
Tilly breathed in the tang of leather and strong aroma of the horses. Sev
eral cowboys came forward to help riders dismount but one rider in particular caught her eye. Happiness flooded through her, warming her cheeks and bringing a smile of pleasure to her lips. Ryan stepped down from the big, blue roan horse he rode, looked her way and sent her a brief nod before helping some of the riders.
“I’m going on in,” Fliss said. “Are you coming or will you wait for him?”
“No, I’ll come. He still has to deal with the horses and will be awhile yet.”
Tilly pushed off the fence, tingling with awareness. She smiled at Ryan as she passed him and caught his answering smile. Neither spoke but she knew with certainty that he would be with her as soon as he could. A sudden thought struck her that, in some unhurried and inevitable way, they were being drawn together, much as the icy hands had drawn her down the stairs.
“Fliss,” she gasped. “What time did Ryan come looking for me?”
Fliss frowned. “I don’t know for sure, but it must have been about four or four-thirty. Somewhere around there. Why?”
Her mind whirling, Tilly quickly calculated what time she had left Burma. “That must have been it,” she muttered. “That was why I felt as though I was being pulled down the stairs. The Ghost Bride knew Ryan was looking for me and was trying to hurry me along.”
The look Fliss gave her almost made Tilly take a step back.
“Now that is your imagination working overtime,” Fliss said in disgust. “For goodness’ sake, Tilly, don’t go spreading that tale around or people will think you’re crazy.”
The more she thought about it, she knew she wasn’t crazy. She knew exactly what she had felt and considered it a reasonable conclusion that a bride who had not been able to fulfill her destiny might help others achieve theirs.
She said no more as she and Fliss found seats and ordered supper. By the time they had eaten Saul had joined them and shortly after that, Ryan came in.
“Where were you today?” he asked as he sat down beside her.
Tilly turned to face him. “One day I might tell you. But not today because I want to hear what you’ve been doing.”
She placed her elbow on the table and rested her chin on the heel of her hand. She let her fingers curl up over the curve of her cheek. She smiled and fluttered her eyelashes a little.
“Why, Miss McCormack,” Ryan said softly, “I do believe you are flirting with me.”
The noise around her in the bar drifted away as she gazed into Ryan’s eyes. “Yes, I think I am. How am I doing so far?”
“Not bad, not bad at all.” He took her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. It seemed to her to be the most natural thing in the world. “It tells me you are beginning to like me a bit.”
“More than a bit,” she whispered. She looked at the fullness of his lower lip, the bow of his upper and the creases that formed at the corners of his mouth as he smiled at her. What would that mouth feel like on hers? And did he want to find out as badly as she did?
Chapter Thirteen
“Well, well, well.”
The lazy drawl made Tilly look up and she froze as Frederic’s hard, pewter-gray gaze settled on her. She tightened her grip on Ryan’s hand and fought to keep her breathing even. How had he managed to approach without her inbuilt alarm system sounding the alarm? Ryan, she thought. Her awareness of him had made her unaware of anything else.
Ryan pushed his chair back and stood up. “Evenin’, Mr. Vanderoosten,” he said politely. “Anything I can help you with, sir?”
Tilly glanced at both of them. Ryan, not as tall as Frederic but more solidly built, and Frederic, tall and slim, his fine features drawn into a sardonic sneer. He flicked a mean glance at Tilly and the sneer changed into a thin smile.
“I was hoping to have taken up Miss McCormack’s offer of her company, but it seems I have missed my chance. Another time, perhaps.”
He wandered off towards the bar and, as Ryan slowly took his seat, Tilly released the breath she held.
“What was that all about?” He spoke quietly, but tension edged his eyes.
Before she could speak, Saul quickly explained what had happened the evening Burma had joined them.
“And,” Fliss added for emphasis, “Tilly didn’t invite him to join her, she invited him to join us, as a group. He’s obviously chosen to misinterpret what she said.”
Ryan took Tilly’s hand again and gave it a little shake. “Just watch out for him, Tilly. He’s as mean as a rattlesnake and will strike twice as fast if you give him the chance.”
Tilly nodded. “Fliss warned me, and I’ve already seen the results of his temper.”
Instantly she wanted to bite her tongue. She had promised Burma she would say nothing and yet here she was almost on the point of divulging that confidence. In answer to the questions she now found herself bombarded with from Saul and Fliss, she simply shook her head.
“I promised I wouldn’t say anything, and I won’t,” she insisted.
“That’s okay,” Ryan comforted her. “We don’t expect you to. But if anything gets out of hand, anything at all, make sure you tell one of us. Promise?”
Tilly nodded, suddenly overwhelmed as she realized how much these people meant to her now. Ryan and Saul suddenly got up in unison, as if they had sent each other a silent signal, and went to the bar. Watching them go, uneasiness gnawed at Tilly’s heart. Frederic had already vanished so she was sure they were not about to confront him. They seemed to be chatting easily enough, joking with the barman and a couple of packers who had come in. She continued to watch them thoughtfully.
“What do you think they are up to?” she asked Fliss.
“Priming the community,” Fliss answered dryly. “I don’t think Frederic will find it so easy this year to cause the same sort of havoc as last. The packers will likely do what they can to keep an eye on him when he’s out and about, and I know Saul has already talked to the bellhops at the hotel.”
“Isn’t there anyone there that we can tell?”
Fliss shook her head. “Nope. He’s there on Mr. Evans’s dime and plays that card as much as he can. If he had to pay his own bill, well, he’d either not be here in the first place, or kicked out, because I know for a fact he wouldn’t be able to pay it. The man’s a leech. Why do you think he made a play for Burma in the first place?”
“You knew he was after the money he thought she had?”
“Of course. Everyone did.” Fliss settled back in her chair, but she kept her eyes fixed on Saul’s back. “Everyone gossips in a hotel whether they are supposed to or not. So, last year, it was no secret that Mr. Evans had set Burma up for the season with a $60,000 letter of credit. Frederic had taken no notice of her until he caught wind of that and then he hardly left her side.”
“Poor Burma,” Tilly murmured.
“Oh, yes. Poor girl, with all Daddy’s moola to draw on.” Fliss stubbed out the cigarette she’d been smoking with short, stabbing strokes. “I was lucky if I got a dime from my dad and goodness knows what kind of a pickle he and Mom are in now.”
“You don’t keep in touch with them?” Tilly was sure that if her parents were still alive she would want to write letters to them.
“I sent a postcard from Miami at Christmas but really, Saul and I move around so much I never think of it.”
Ryan and Saul sauntered back to them then, but Tilly could tell from the expressions on their faces something had changed. An air of collusion hovered between them which Tilly had no intention of questioning, knowing that somehow it concerned her and Fliss’ safety and she was grateful for it.
They took a slow walk back, Saul and Fliss a little ahead and deep in conversation. Ryan walked more and more slowly until he stopped altogether and turned Tilly to face him.
“You do know what you started this evening, don’t you?” he asked.
“I think so.” Tilly looked at his mouth and her own ran dry. Her heart thudded painfully but she liked that Ryan was the cause. He drew her into the shadow of the trees and put his arm
s around her. With a sigh she rested her head on his chest. It felt so right.
“I don’t have much to offer right now, Tilly,” he said above her head. “I’ve got a good horse and a not-so-good dog and I bunk with the boys, but I’ve got my eye on a cabin which might be available next spring. Think you can wait ‘til then?”
Tilly tightened her arms around him and breathed in the scent of him. Did she dare flirt more? She looked up at him and whispered, “Only if you kiss me now.”
He lowered his head to hers. Tilly took a breath and closed her eyes. She had only been kissed once, a quick, sloppy buss on the mouth she knew to have been the result of a dare. She had quickly dismissed it, but this was different. Every part of her tingled with anticipation. When their lips met in one soft, sweet moment of tenderly giving and taking, she fell all the way in love.
They stood together in the darkness with the distant sound of rushing water vying with the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze around them. Somewhere close by an owl hooted and they reluctantly broke apart. Tilly lifted her fingers to Ryan’s mouth, reading the contours and texture of his lips. She felt him smile and saw that same smile soften his eyes. He leaned in and kissed her again.
“Come on,” he said when he finally released her. “I’ll walk you back to your door.”
They talked quietly as they walked, their conversation broken by occasional laughter as they shared a joke or teased one another.
It was, Tilly thought, the most wonderful evening of her life. Just before Ryan left her, he chucked her on the chin and she smiled up at him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. “Wear pants if you’ve got them. I’m taking you trail riding.”
Tilly almost groaned. There it was again, that proprietary streak that gave Ryan his take-charge attitude. It might work for guides and packers, but it sure wasn’t going to work for her. She fisted her hands on her hips.
“I’m going to marry you. I’m going to take you riding,” she stormed. “Doesn’t it ever cross your mind that a girl might like to be asked what she wants?”
Brides of Banff Springs Page 8
