by Linda Ford
Isabelle wrapped a sense of satisfaction around her. With some help from her friends she could learn to fit in here. Could that be enough?
Dr. Baker came from his bedroom, where he’d been napping. “Three girls in the kitchen is a pleasant sight for an old man.”
Isabelle knew that kind of talk upset Kate and she squeezed her friend’s hand.
They ate a generous meal. Then Isabelle served slices of the cake she’d made and frosted.
“It’s excellent,” Kate said.
“Indeed,” Dr. Baker echoed.
Sadie nodded thoughtfully. “Every bit as good as Annie’s was that first night.”
Isabelle thanked each of them. “Might be because it’s Annie’s recipe and she supervised every step.” But it was good to feel she had accomplished this.
They’d barely finished when someone banged on the front door. “Doc. Is the doctor in?”
Dr. Baker hurried to the door. “What’s the problem?”
“It’s my wife. She’s having a baby and it’s taking too long. Can you come and see her?”
“Certainly. Let me get my things.” He stepped into the examining room.
Kate scrambled to her feet and rushed after her father. “I’ll go with you.”
Seconds later a wagon rattled away with the doctor and Kate.
Sadie and Isabelle stared at each other, then grinned. “We’re on our own,” Sadie said. “I’ll help clean up.”
The two girls worked together. When the kitchen was clean and the food put away, the evening stretched out ahead of them. Isabelle couldn’t think what she would do on her own.
“Why don’t you stay and keep me company?” she asked Sadie.
“I’d love that. I wish I’d brought my chessboard with me. Do you play chess?”
“I do, and I happen to have my own board.” She went to her trunk and returned with the game set. Soon they were immersed in the game.
A rattle outside sent a rush of fear through Isabelle’s veins. “Did you hear that? Is that a normal sound?”
Sadie’s eyes were wide. “I heard it. It sounds like someone is out there.”
“Maybe it’s someone looking for the doctor. But why don’t they come to the door?” The possibilities drew the blood from her face. Someone might be so injured they couldn’t make it to the door. Or—
Sadie put words to Isabelle’s fear. “Maybe it’s a prowler.”
A muffled grunt gave substance to her suspicions.
“What do we do?”
Sadie looked about. “Do the doors lock?”
“I have no idea.” One of them would have to tiptoe forward to see. Isabelle sucked in air. Sadie was a guest. That left it to Isabelle.
Trembling from head to toe, she eased to the door. No key. She looked about. There. A key hung on a nail by the door. She grabbed it, stuck it in the keyhole and turned it.
Her breath whooshed out.
But what about the front door? And the door to the doctor’s waiting room? She scurried into the sitting room. Again a key hung near the door and she turned it into place, then hurried through into the waiting room and locked that door, as well.
Meanwhile, Sadie pulled the curtains across the windows so no one could see them. Then the two of them huddled in the dark sitting room, whispering.
“How long before he goes away?” Sadie asked.
“I don’t know. And how will we know when it’s safe? How will you get back to your room? You’ll have to stay here.”
They listened. Were those footsteps approaching the door? They clutched hands. Isabelle forgot how to breathe.
*
“It was an honest mistake and I apologized.” Dawson grew tired of Annie’s sorrowful sighs and Mattie’s refusal to look at him. Even Grandfather scowled continually after hearing Mattie and Annie’s version of the day’s events and what he’d said to Isabelle. If only Pa and Dawson’s brothers would return. Surely they would be on his side.
“A mistake you made because you misjudged the poor woman,” Annie insisted. “I know she’d been crying when I went over to teach her to bake a chocolate cake, though she did her best to pretend all was well.”
“I have to say,” Grandfather said with enough accusation in his voice to make Dawson wish he could slide under the table, “that I’m glad neither your grandmother nor your mother are alive to see this.”
Dawson closed his eyes and longed for the peace of a bedroll in the midst of a snow-clad bunch of trees.
“I don’t know why you don’t like her.” Mattie blinked back tears. “I like her.”
“I never said I didn’t like her.”
Three pairs of eyes challenged his words.
“I didn’t.” He only wanted to protect Mattie—and, yes, himself—from a rich city woman. Thankfully, no one could read his thoughts to ask what he needed to protect them from, though he would have had an answer… From the risk of being hurt by allowing himself to care about her.
Tears pooled on Mattie’s bottom eyelids, threatening to overflow.
Dawson jerked to his feet. “I’m going to town.”
“Good. You need to make things right with her.” Grandfather seemed to think he knew Dawson’s plans.
Dawson wished he could tell the old man his assumption was wrong. Without answering, he went to the cloakroom, planted his hat on his head, grabbed his coat and strode to the barn. Muttering to himself about how foolish and unnecessary all this was, he saddled Jumper and rode to town in the dark.
He passed the wagon shop and blacksmith on his left. Both buildings were darkened but a light glowed in the back of the second in the living quarters attached to the business. The livery barn on his right had a lantern shining from a hook by the door to invite late-night travelers. He resolutely turned left at Ore Street and rode down the alley. He passed the blackened ashes of the burned-out businesses and reined in at the doctor’s residence. A lamp glowed in the kitchen, but the curtains had been pulled across the window, making it impossible to see inside.
He knocked and waited. And waited. He knocked again and tried the door. It was locked. “Hello. Is anyone there?”
The hurry of footsteps came toward him.
“Dawson?”
He recognized Isabelle’s strained voice. “I need to talk to you.”
The key turned in the lock. The door eased open. “Please, come in.”
He stepped inside and she pushed the door closed behind him. Rather hurriedly, it seemed.
“I’m certainly glad to see you.” The welcome in her voice surprised him.
“Really?” That was quite the opposite of the reaction he’d expected. “Where is everyone?”
“The doctor and Kate have gone to a birthing. Sadie is here. Sadie?”
Sadie came slowly from the sitting room, her eyes wide.
Dawson looked from one to the other and considered the locked door and drawn curtains. “What’s wrong?”
“We heard someone outside,” Isabelle answered as Sadie hovered in the doorway, ready for a quick escape. “Would you mind checking? It might be someone injured and looking for the doctor. Or—”
“Or?”
“An intruder.”
An intruder? This was Bella Creek. People didn’t lock their doors. The sheriff patrolled the streets to make sure any rambunctious miners went to Wolf Hollow to be rowdy. But what did he expect from a city woman? “I’ll look.” He lit the lantern by the door and went outside to check.
A bit of burned paper from the fire fluttered in the leafless fire-scarred tree in the yard. The men had decided to leave it standing. Give it a chance to see if there was still life in it after the fire. Give it a chance. The words echoed Grandfather’s admonition about Isabelle.
The paper made a rattling sound. Perhaps the girls had heard that, because no one lingered in the shadows. A piece of firewood had rolled from the stack. He replaced it. No doubt one of the neighborhood cats had wandered by and dislodged it. That might have been what they
heard.
He returned to the kitchen and explained about the paper and the cat. “That was your intruder.”
Sadie and Isabelle looked at each other. He guessed from their expressions that they weren’t convinced.
“Thank you for checking,” Isabelle said. “Can I offer you tea and cake?”
“Thank you, yes.” Words would come easier if they all sat down and got comfortable. A chess game had been pushed to the side. “Were you two playing this game?”
“We were.” Isabelle filled the kettle and set it to boil. She cut three slices of cake and put them on china plates, then poured the hot water over the tea.
He studied her covertly. It didn’t surprise him that Sadie played chess. Why should it surprise him that Isabelle did? Perhaps, as Annie and Grandfather said, he’d jumped to conclusions regarding the woman.
He watched her every move. As if he’d never seen a woman make tea before! He jerked his gaze away. Nothing could change the fact she was a city gal and, if Johnny wasn’t mistaken, a wealthy one. Or at least she came from a well-to-do family. Again he tried to remember why the Redfield name seemed familiar.
Sadie still hovered in the doorway. “Come, sit down.” Isabelle’s words shifted the woman into action and she hurried to the table.
Isabelle sat across from him. “Now, what did you want to speak to us about?”
He tasted the cake and made appreciative noises. “Annie said you made this cake.”
“With her help, yes, I did.” That cautious note in her voice crackled along his nerves. As if she expected to be scolded again.
“I’m afraid I jumped to conclusions this afternoon. Mattie explained how you pulled her back from the river. I should have thanked you rather than berating you. I again apologize and I hope it’s not too late to say thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
She wasn’t making this easy for him, which made him feel he had to explain.
“I’m protective of her.” Where did he mean to go with this? He didn’t want to talk about Violet and they probably didn’t want to hear about her.
Silence filled the edges of the room.
Sadie spoke. “The more I look around, the more I am stunned by the extent of damage from the fire. It must have been frightening.”
“Seeing the flames jump from building to building and fearing the fire might take the whole town was the most frightening thing. It was hard to get water enough to put it out. A few of the townspeople suffered frozen fingers.”
“What started it?” Isabelle asked, a note of relief in her voice.
He wished he could undo the angry words he’d spoken earlier, wished he could erase the wariness in her face. “Fires aren’t uncommon. It started in the lawyer’s office. Perhaps he left the fire burning too briskly. Or left papers where they could light from the stove.” He shrugged. “He might even have forgotten to turn off the lamp when he closed the office for the day.”
“The fire has affected a lot of people.” Isabelle looked thoughtful. “But it seems everyone is pulling together to rebuild. That’s nice.”
“Everyone but the owner of the dry-goods store. He’s even gone so far as to suggest the Marshalls started the fire in order to eliminate competition. Little does he know how much this fire is costing the Marshalls.”
Isabelle looked surprised. “How is that? Is your family footing the costs?”
He’d only said what everyone in town already knew. “Everyone has contributed what they could, but Grandfather feels responsible for the town. He sees himself as the overseer of it since he started it in the first place. Many of the buildings belong to the Marshall family and are rented out.”
“I see.”
He wondered if she truly did. “It’s called Bella Creek after my grandmother. Her name was Annabelle.” Like Grandfather said, Isabelle’s name was similar to his grandmother’s. The town might have been named for them both.
“That’s sweet.” Isabelle said the words but Sadie added her sigh.
“I know. So romantic.”
He rolled his eyes, having heard that sentiment many times in the past.
Both women chuckled softly. He knew he had correctly guessed what they thought.
The cake was gone, the teapot drained. It was time to leave. Yet he lingered.
A knock at the door jerked all three of their gazes to the door.
“Would you get it?” Isabelle’s voice quivered.
He shoved back and went to do so. “Hello, Sid. If you’ve come to see the doctor, he isn’t here right now.”
“Not needing the doc. I’m looking for my milk cow. Any of you seen or heard her?”
Dawson glanced over his shoulder. “I think we found your intruder.” He turned back to Sid. “She was here an hour or two ago, but I didn’t see her when I had a look around.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep looking.”
Chuckling, Dawson closed the door and grinned at the ladies.
The three of them shared a laugh over the runaway cow.
“I should be getting home,” he said, with a great deal of reluctance. “Or do you want me to stay until the doctor returns?” He addressed Isabelle.
Her gaze searched his as if evaluating his words for a hidden meaning…as if expecting him to be standing in judgment on her. Perhaps Grandfather was right. He had been making a quick assessment. Just like Johnny.
Isabelle hesitated a moment as if considering the idea, and then she shook her head. “No. I’m certain I am quite safe. No one else in town needs a guard. Neither do I, but thank you.”
Sadie rose quickly. “Would you be so good as to escort me across the street? I know you said there was no prowler outside but I’m nervous after hearing something out there.”
“Certainly.” He grabbed his hat and coat from where he had hung them upon being invited in for tea and strode into the sitting room. He waited while Isabelle unlocked the door. She would be alone when he left. Was she frightened at the thought?
“Good night, then,” Sadie said.
“Good night,” Dawson echoed.
“God bless.” Isabelle closed the door and turned the key in the lock.
He escorted Sadie to the hotel and waited until she climbed the stairs and went to her room before he left. Isabelle might have refused his offer but he wasn’t going home until the doctor returned. Not that he didn’t think she was perfectly safe, but her comment that no one else needed a guard made him realize that no other woman was so alone. Yes, there were one or two who lived by themselves, but they had friends and neighbors nearby. Isabelle didn’t.
He circled to the back of the doctor’s quarters, found himself a piece of firewood to sit on and settled down to stay as long as necessary.
From where he sat, he could see the glow of the lamp and the occasional shadow crossing the light as Isabelle moved about.
Cold settled into his limbs and he pulled his coat tighter. He’d light a campfire but that would alarm Isabelle as well as the town residents, everyone being more than a little nervous after watching the fire that consumed a whole block of buildings.
His horse waited patiently for him to decide to return home. “I’ll give you extra oats,” Dawson murmured in the deepening night.
A bump and clatter from farther down the alley brought Dawson to his feet. Was there really someone lurking about? He heard a meow. Just a cat. He stretched and yawned, then settled back again on his narrow log seat.
A wagon rattled up the street and pulled to a halt in front of the house.
“Thanks, Doc.”
“Good night,” Kate and the doctor called.
Dawson waited until Isabelle unlocked the door to let them in, until he saw shadows moving about in the kitchen, until the light left the kitchen and moved to the bedroom before he swung to the saddle and headed back to the ranch. He smiled at nothing in particular except to wonder what Isabelle would say if she knew he’d kept watch for the better part of an hour. She need never know, but he was c
ontent that he’d done the right thing in making sure she was safe.
It struck him before he was a mile from town. Why did he allow himself to feel responsible for her when, at the same time, he told himself he wanted to forget he’d ever met her?
Chapter Eleven
Sunday morning, Isabelle prepared for church with mixed emotions. Dawson had apologized, but did that mean he’d changed his mind about what sort of woman he thought she was? Did he still see her as city versus him as country? Did he still see her as being like Violet? And, as such, a danger to his child?
She could have told him he was wrong on all scores, but telling him wouldn’t make him believe it.
She, Kate and the doctor walked to church. They were joined by Sadie and greeted at the door by Mattie and Dawson. Mattie grabbed her hand and pressed to her side. Dawson smiled down at Isabelle. Something in his eyes brought a rush of heat to her cheeks. She told herself it was only her imagination.
He indicated they should make their way to the fourth-from-the-front pew and stood back to let her go in. Mattie slipped in next to her and Dawson sat beside his daughter. Mattie held both their hands and beamed from one to the other.
Isabelle looked at Mattie’s hand in hers. Would Dawson accept her for who she was? How could he, when she wasn’t being entirely honest? She kept her head lowered. She wasn’t ready to tell him the truth and risk changing everything.
Slowly she brought her gaze to his and saw both welcome and caution. She ignored the caution and let herself bask in the welcome. Once he truly believed she was a capable woman, she would tell him the truth.
Pastor Arness took his place at the pulpit.
“Today I want to speak to you of hope and loss, and how the two go hand in hand.” He paused before he continued. “I once had a wife.”
Isabelle heard Annie suck in a rush of air from where she sat on the other side of Dawson.
“We had a little boy. Rather, we have a little boy. My wife left me to go with another man to the gold fields and took our son. I’ve come here hoping to find him. So far I have not learned anything that would lead me to his whereabouts. That is my pain and my loss.” He raised his voice. “But that is not the end of my story because I have hope. Hope in a God who loves me, who loves my son even more than I do, and I trust His goodwill in helping me to find my boy.”
