by Lori Wick
Four days. Travis’ hand balled into a fist as he stood at the window of his bedroom. His wife had been gone for four days. He had ridden to find her, that night and again in the morning. He had nearly driven his horse into the ground as he searched the closest towns, but no one had seen her. He had been forced to come home last night; he’d left in such a hurry that he was out of provisions and money. A part of him had also wished to come home and find her there, with a simple explanation of their misunderstanding. But things between them were not simple, not in the least. Now he waited for the sun to rise in the sky so he could start again. He had to find her. He had to know where she was.
The livery had been no help that first night. She had left the horse and buggy with them but only talked to a stable hand who had remembered next to nothing about the whole incident. The agent at the stage office had been even less help.
Travis’ eyes left his own reflection in the glass and glanced around his bedroom. He knew he should turn the lantern out in order to see the first streaks of light in the sky, but his gaze landed on the bed. He was tired enough to lie down and sleep for a week, but he resisted. Instead he picked up the lantern and moved down the hall. He forced himself not to look at the closed portal to Andrew’s room as he moved toward his wife’s door. What he hoped to see there was not clear to him, but maybe, just maybe, she’d dropped some sort of clue.
With the light held high in front of him, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was just as tidy as he’d remembered, but there was a coldness inside that had nothing to do with the temperature. Travis set the lantern on the small writing table near the door and stood still, letting his eyes roam at will. He spotted the sleeve of a garment hanging from the ornately carved wardrobe in the corner and approached.
Here, all was not as neat. Inside it looked as if Rebecca had grabbed things in a hurry. The possible implications of the jumbled mess made his heart clench. He thought, however, that most of her things were there. The remaining dresses, ones that he loved seeing on her, were knocked askew or lay in a fallen heap in the bottom. He closed the door softly and turned slowly back to the room. Nothing leapt out at him until he moved to the lantern again. He lifted it and caught a glimpse of something in the wastebasket. It was only a small ball of paper, but Travis felt compelled to pick it up.
He unfolded the wad slowly and recognized his wife’s handwriting. He saw right away that it was a letter to her Aunt Hannah, but he read it anyway. The words were like a lash.
I was forced to marry my father’s foreman, and all because you’re a selfish, sick old woman!
Travis’ hand shook, but he made himself read it all and then read it again. She had been forced—Travis had known that. It hadn’t been a violent, tempestuous act with tears and shouting, but neither had it been a gentle courtship over a reasonable period of time, one that ended with a declaration of love and much-anticipated vows at the altar. Even with his understanding of all that had happened, this lashing out, this anger and disgust in the letter, was a surprise to him. He knew she’d written it in grief and pain, but still …
Travis made himself calmly fold the paper and put it back on the writing table, the edge tucked under the heavy crystal inkwell. He could no longer stand the sight of the room and the remembrance of their time there together. He blew the lantern out and stood helplessly in the dark. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for his eyes to note that the sky was growing light. He knew he could ride now, but should he? Should he go after a woman who obviously wanted nothing to do with him?
Pine Grove
Rebecca looked across the kitchen table at Angel and marveled just a little. Even right out of bed she was beautiful. She had been sipping hot coffee for 20 minutes and not spoken, but that was all right with Rebecca; she wanted only to stare at her clear skin, high forehead, delicate nose, sapphire blue eyes, and light blonde hair.
“I didn’t get in until late.” Angel’s morning voice was husky. “But you seemed to be sleeping soundly.”
“Yes. I slept well.”
Angel’s gaze came off her coffee cup, and Rebecca felt a little nervous under her steady regard. Angel managed to give her the impression that she could read her mind. Rebecca would have liked to ask if the offer from the night before still stood but felt that would be presumptuous.
“I’ll tell you what I had in mind,” Angel spoke as she rose, convincing Rebecca that she could read her thoughts. The younger woman watched as she reached toward the shelf for a frying pan and a bowl of eggs. “I can pay you 50 cents a week, plus room and board, if you’ll keep the whole house clean, do my laundry, and have a meal on the table for me when I get up each day.”
Angel glanced over her shoulder. “You’re welcome to make this your home, but if your friends start tearing up the place, they’ll have to go.” She took in Rebecca’s wide eyes and continued calmly. “Like I said last night, I work nights, but I like to get up and relax in the afternoons before I have to be at the Bell. If you are going to have friends in, I’d rather it be in the morning before I get up or in the evening after I leave for work. I’m off on Monday nights, and I’d rather you didn’t have any company at all then.”
Rebecca nodded, but was confused. What friends? A little shiver ran over her. The last person she thought was a friend had turned out to be anything but. He had married her for the ranch. It must be a relief to have gotten rid of her so easily.
Oh, Travis, her heart cried, for a few days I thought we really had something. I thought it was going to last. Didn’t you know how much I needed you? Didn’t you understand how I hurt over Papa’s death? Why didn’t you punch Biscuit in the face and tell him it was me you wanted?
Awash with misery, Rebecca looked up to find Angel’s eyes on her. She averted her own gaze, and Angel didn’t comment. Nothing was said by either of them until Angel passed Rebecca some food and she thanked her in a small voice.
Rebecca looked at the burned food in the pot and bit her lower lip. Angel would be up in less than an hour, and she had nothing for her to eat. Lavena had made it look so easy, but the potatoes in the pot were so stuck to the bottom that Rebecca wondered if she would have to throw the pot away. And she felt dreadful. When she’d gone to the cupboards to see what Angel had on hand to eat, she’d come across a plate of spoiled food that had caused her to gag and nearly be sick. She had held a dishcloth over her mouth and nose in order to dispose of it, but the thought still turned her stomach. Now the potatoes. What in the world was she going to do?
The thought had no more formed when there was a knock on the back door. It opened before Rebecca could move or speak. A man, the one who had put his head in the front door two nights before, now walked calmly into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” he said pleasantly as he smiled in Rebecca’s direction.
“Hello,” she said warily, wondering if the sound-sleeping Angel would even hear her if she cried out.
“We weren’t properly introduced the other night, but I’m Dan.”
“Hello,” Rebecca said again, but only stood warily.
Dan, who was quite accustomed to female attention, was more intrigued than ever. He forced himself to gaze around the room before looking back at her. In an effort to reopen the conversation, he gestured toward the pot with his hand.
“Smells like it burned a little.”
Rebecca hated herself for the tears she felt gathering, but blinked them away.
“I don’t know what I did wrong.”
Dan’s jaded heart broke. He took a step closer and looked down at the black mess.
“It looks as if you let the water boil dry.”
“Water?”
“Yes.” He wanted to laugh but didn’t. “Didn’t you add any?”
She only shook her head miserably and averted her eyes. Dan came to the rescue, gently taking the pan from her grasp, his voice matter-of-fact.
“Well, let’s start over. Does Angel have more spuds?”
“Yes.”
/> “Why don’t you grab some, and I’ll find another pot.”
“Is the pot ruined?”
“Well, not quite,” he stated tactfully, “but it’ll take less time if we just use another one.”
Rebecca moved silently to the small pantry and came back with four more potatoes. She set to peeling them without comment, but when Dan returned from the pump, he saw that she was cutting away most of the potato.
“Here,” he stepped in, his voice too kind to be intrusive. “Let me show you.”
Rebecca watched for a moment and then tried again when he handed the knife back to her. She was not as fast or smooth as he was, but there was more potato left the second time.
It was the start of a very enlightening half hour. As though they’d been friends for years, Dan spoke casually and showed her how to cook the potatoes, toast the bread, fry the little strips of bacon he’d unearthed, and perk a pot of coffee. It was all unbelievably complicated to her, but she knew if she didn’t learn swiftly she would lose her job.
“Here,” Dan poured a cup of the freshly brewed liquid and passed it to her. “You deserve this.”
Rebecca took it but said, “I didn’t do anything.”
“Sure you did. You catch on quickly, and this is just the start. You’ll do better tomorrow, Miss—”
Rebecca’s eyes widened in surprise. Had she really not told him her name? Miss—? All at once her eyes became shuttered.
“My name is Rebecca.”
“I’m Dan.”
Rebecca nodded. “I remember seeing you before.”
Dan was pleased but managed to keep it hidden. “I take it you’ll be living here with Angel?”
“Yes,” Rebecca said with a sigh. “If I can do the job.”
“What did she hire you to do?”
“Cook and clean.”
Dan smiled; he couldn’t help himself. He glanced around the wreckage from the meal they had just prepared. He was on the verge of commenting, but Angel walked in.
“The parlor looks great, Rebecca. Oh, hello, Dan. What brings you—” Angel stopped when she caught sight of the room.
“Rebecca had a little trouble with the meal,” Dan said smoothly. “But she’s okay now.”
Angel looked toward the younger woman. Her look was not accusing but questioning. Rebecca dropped her eyes and admitted, “I can’t cook. There wouldn’t be a meal at all if Dan hadn’t come.” She forced herself to look up. “If you want to throw me out, I’ll go quietly, Angel.”
Angel looked to Dan, but he was staring at Rebecca. Rebecca’s eyes shifted to the man as well. He spoke when she looked at him.
“If Angel says you have to go, Rebecca, you can live with me.”
The color drained from Rebecca’s face, and her mouth and eyes opened wide in astonishment.
Dan’s laugh was soft. “Don’t panic, kitten. I was only kidding.” With that he reached for the hat he’d set on the shelf by the door, his nonchalant movements helping Rebecca to breathe again.
“I’ll see you at the Bell, Angel.”
“We have plenty of food, Dan,” Angel offered sincerely. “Why don’t you stay?”
“Another time, Angel, but thanks.” Before Rebecca could even guess his intentions, he dropped a kiss on her cheek. “See you later, kitten.”
The silence in the small kitchen was heavy, but Angel moved very casually to get the plates. Rebecca took her cue and put the flatware and bowls of food on the table. The women were halfway through their meal before Angel said kindly, “You’ll get the hang of it, Rebecca. Don’t worry about your job.”
“Dan was a big help,” she admitted.
“He’s a nice guy.”
“Yes. I appreciated his stopping.”
“But not enough to go and live with him.”
Rebecca’s eyes flew to Angel’s. “He said he was only kidding.”
Angel smiled. “Of course; so was I.”
Angel watched the younger woman go back to her food and wondered at herself. She was a plainspoken woman and brutally honest. She wondered what it was about Rebecca’s eyes that had kept her from telling the truth about Dan’s interest.
13
Rebecca was still bent over a washtub full of clothes when Dan arrived the next day. He walked in much as he’d done the day before, only this time he sat down at the table as if he lived there. In good spirits, he remarked, “Somehow I thought you would be burning potatoes by now.”
Rebecca, who had greeted him absently, now looked full into his handsome face.
“What time is it?”
“Almost 4:00.”
“Oh no!” she wailed. “I had no idea.” She tore at the damp apron she was wearing and only managed to put the tie in a knot. Dan watched her calmly and wondered at his feelings. Never, not in 32 years of living as he pleased, had a person gotten under his skin so quickly. He was completely captivated by this woman.
“Here,” he finally spoke, rising. “Let me help you.”
He worked at the knot, gently easing it free, but as he’d done once before, he drew Rebecca close without warning and pressed a kiss to her brow, his head lowering still more, this time toward her mouth. Her eyes wide, Rebecca sprang back, hitting her seat on the stove.
“I can’t pay you for helping me cook,” she gasped.
“I’m not looking for payment,” Dan told her, his hands still holding her waist.
“Yes you are. I can’t pay you money, and I can’t pay you with kisses.”
“I’m not trying to collect payment, Rebecca.”
“Then why the kiss?”
Dan’s smile was tender. “How else does a man show a woman he’s interested?”
“Interested in what?”
Dan blinked. Could she really be so naive?
“Why, in a relationship,” he said calmly.
“But I’m not.”
“Not interested in a relationship?”
“That’s right.”
Dan looked at her, forcing the hands that wanted to caress her waist to remain still.
“You haven’t even given me a chance, Rebecca. You may find that you’re very interested.”
Rebecca shook her head in mute appeal. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t, and that’s all there is to it.”
Dan read the near panic in her eyes and knew he was going to have to back off. Tonight was his night off. He’d planned to come back when Angel went to work and get to know Rebecca more intimately, but he had never forced himself on a woman and certainly didn’t plan to start now. He finally dropped his hands.
“Well, we’d better get started on supper.”
“You’re staying?” Rebecca asked in wonder.
“Of course. I think you still need a little help with this kitchen work.”
“And you’re willing to do that?”
“Certainly. That’s what friends are for.”
Rebecca could only stare at him. Dan caught the look.
“Unless you’d rather we weren’t even friends, Rebecca. If so, I’ll leave.”
“No,” Rebecca whispered. “I didn’t know you’d be willing to be friends.”
Dan knew very well that feeling as he did about her, friendship would never work, but he couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing her again. If he walked out that door, he knew in his heart she would never call him back. Maybe this way he had a chance. He thought it might be a comfort to her to know that he did not have marriage in mind, but for some reason he kept this thought to himself.
“Now.” His voice was all at once businesslike. “Potatoes again tonight?”
“Yes, and there are some apples.”
“Okay, you can start to peel the spuds, and I’ll do the apples.”
Rebecca complied without comment, but a thought niggled at the back of her mind. Could a man who wanted to kiss you really be just a friend? She hadn’t had any experience with such things, but the idea seemed odd. However, the next few minutes spent working with Dan seemed
to mock Rebecca’s very thoughts. He was as friendly and unassuming as he could be. Angel was down to eat by the time they put the meal on, and Dan even joined them. He helped with the cleanup and kissed Rebecca’s cheek much as he had the night before. His smile was kind as he left, and Angel followed an hour later. Rebecca spent the rest of the evening on the laundry.
“Oh, Angel,” Rebecca said with surprise the very next day. The older woman had risen several hours ahead of schedule. “Did I wake you?”
“No, I planned to get up early. We’re out of food, and I think we should shop together.”
“Oh.” Rebecca felt awful. “I’m sorry I can’t just do all of this on my own.”
Angel smiled understandingly, but again she had surprised herself. Her mind told her that her new housekeeper was more trouble than she was worth, but Angel couldn’t bring herself to tell her to leave. Angel never had tender thoughts toward anyone, but the idea of Rebecca taking a job at the Bell, or somewhere less respectable where she might be prey to men, made Angel feel anxious. She knew that Dan was interested in Rebecca but also that he was a decent guy.
Less than half an hour later they were in Pine Grove’s general store. It was nothing like the one in Boulder, but Rebecca pushed the comparisons away. She liked the mingled aromas of leather and fresh goods, but the store was cold unless you were quite near the potbellied stove that sat in the middle of the room. The stove was surrounded by a selection of mismatched chairs, some occupied, some empty.
“Pick out some potatoes, Rebecca, and then look at those onions.”
Rebecca wasn’t certain exactly what she was looking for, but she picked out the ones that seemed to be freshest.
Angel did some wandering on her own and found pickles, tins of peaches, and some laundry soap. She scanned Rebecca’s basket, and then they shopped together for a time before heading to the counter with enough food to last them several days if not a week. Angel had been kind enough to introduce her to the store owner, and Angel was still explaining things to Rebecca as they started toward the door.
“Hello, Angel,” a deep voice spoke just as they left the building. “Working tonight?”
