“I’ll be happy to.” He stiffened…almost as if he were digging his boot heels into the floor to keep from sliding toward her. “But first you need to understand how things will have to be between us, before you jump to any…romantic conclusions.”
Solace blinked. What on earth did he mean by that?
Chapter Thirteen
Gabe felt her pain as though it were his own—all the more reason to set Solace Monroe straight before she assumed things about their relationship. And yes, before he fell head over heels for her.
She was eighteen but sheltered; Solace probably hadn’t entertained many beaux, because the Triple M was about three miles from town—and because she suffered no fools. Most men her age would be completely baffled by her talents and insights. When he’d been eighteen, he was socially inept despite his academic talents, and he would have acted like an idiot in her presence, too.
But how could he tell her she was the most extraordinary young woman he’d ever met, without making her think he shared her giddy excitement about traveling with him? He was older and had just lost his wife. The intense joy Solace Monroe stirred in him felt totally inappropriate.
Liar, liar, pants on fire!
That was Billy Bristol’s voice in his mind, remembered from childhood. Billy clearly knew what was going on between him and Solace: there’d been no mistaking the twinkle in his brilliant blue eyes. That look was his most compelling reason to have this difficult discussion on the train. Once she got home, Miss Monroe would have the emotional advantage over him.
“Solace, you and I have shared some…remarkable insights these past few days,” he began, wishing he sounded more confident. “I truly appreciate your comfort and compassion…your astute observations about my wife, after you read her diary.”
“Don’t beat around the bush, Gabe.” She crossed her arms, already disappointed in him. It took all his strength not to sit beside her again and grab her hand…not to say things just to bring the sunshine back to those sparkling brown eyes.
“Fair enough,” he said with a sigh. Several people were seated within earshot, so he leaned his elbows on his knees. “You and I have become confidants in a very short time, sweetheart, so it’s only fair to tell you I’m not ready to court another woman. It’ll take my heart some time to heal. And meanwhile, it’s not fair to keep you from meeting other men who—”
“That’s horse hockey. Did you learn how to dress it up and take the stink out of it while you were practicing law?”
Gabe’s jaw dropped. Solace wasn’t smiling one little bit, yet a dimple winked at him from the side of her mouth.
He had the sudden urge to kiss it. Where had that come from?
“Gabe, we’ve been over this.” She, too, leaned her elbows on her knees, which brought her face down to his level, about a foot away. “I know you’ve been married and have practiced a profession for several years now—and I should hope so, since you’re nine years older than I. And I know you wanted to do right by your wife. And it’ll take a while to recover from what loving her cost you.”
She sighed, lowering her voice when a few passengers glanced their way. “You enjoy talking to me and watching me ride, and making me feel special—because you do that, Gabe,” she whispered beneath the rhythmic clatter of the train. “You let me be myself—a woman who could be the other half of you, and heal your wounds. Everybody else in this world thinks I’m too outspoken, or too much the tomboy, or too wrapped up in my animals, but I never got that feeling about you. Guess I was wrong, huh?”
His mouth went dry. He felt two inches tall. How had this trick-riding sharpshooter of a cowgirl reduced him to a flea, when he could face any high-powered lawyer in any courtroom while defending a client who’d broken the law?
“This isn’t easy for me, Solace,” he protested. “Please try to understand when I say—”
“I don’t believe in trying, Mr. Getty. I either do things full-on, or I don’t.” She leveled that gaze at him again, and when her eyes lingered on his lips, he sensed she wanted to kiss him despite her tough talk. “I understand what you’ve been saying, but my feelings for you are real, Gabe. I’m not some gawky little girl chasing after you because I don’t know any better. I’m all grown-up now. And I’ve made up my mind.”
Solace straightened then. Her voice carried with quiet clarity, straight into his soul. “I’m going after you with the same determination I use to train a new horse. And you’ve never seen a horse I couldn’t convince, have you?”
Gabe let out a helpless laugh. “You’re very persistent.”
“I don’t take no for an answer,” she whispered intently. “And just like I felt Bernadette was holding out on us—because she’s too bright for her little britches—I know you need me in your life, Gabe Getty. I know you love me, too,” she added in a voice he could barely hear. “And just as I’ve persuaded my horses and Rex to trust me completely, by taking away their fear, I’ll have you eating out of my hand, too. Once you believe that, you’ll be a mighty happy man, Gabe. Mark my words.”
Where did she get this ability to twist him like a ribbon and tie him into a knot? Where did such confidence come from? Such savvy? Lord, but he wanted to grab her and kiss her silly—to shock some sense into her, the way she’d smacked him with her simple truth.
But if he gave in to that urge, if he lost control of his feelings now, he’d be doing them both a disfavor. Wouldn’t he? He couldn’t properly court her while he was about to throw himself into a new career that would require nights of deep reading and his full concentration.
He’d lost his heart to one woman, and he still ached from the false hopes he’d strung himself along with. What if he was just as wrong about Solace?
“You have your opinion and I have mine,” he murmured. “Time will tell who’s right, won’t it?”
She chortled, making that dimple wink again. “I’ve got all the time in the world, Gabe. It’s not like other men are beating my door down, and my horses and Rex aren’t going anywhere, either. I would ask you one favor, though.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“Don’t tell anybody about my writing. We’re keeping that between you and me.”
“But your family would be proud—”
“Mama might not take it so well that I twisted Daddy’s name around,” she pointed out. “And, frankly, I don’t want everybody fussing over me, like they had no idea I could put pen to paper. You understand that kind of stuff better than they do.”
“It’s your place to break that kind of news, anyway,” he agreed. “But don’t underestimate your parents. Your mother was educated at Miss Vanderbilt’s academy, after all, and—”
“Please, Gabe. Let’s handle it my way.”
He smiled. Then he realized she’d spun another gossamer web: Solace’s talent would be one more thing she shared with him and no one else. A secret like that gave her even more power over him; it made him the guardian of an important part of her life, which linked her more closely to him. They had little in common when it came to training animals—or riding and shooting—but the interplay of words and ideas was a powerful connecting point. Something he’d never shared with Letitia.
The remainder of the train ride was quiet. He read “Daddy Was a Desperado” and sincerely enjoyed it. Solace showed amazing insight, speaking through a boy who grew up among the outlaws his father ran with, but who led a law-abiding life after his father was killed during a bank robbery. Gabe recognized details from Wesley Bristol’s career, but the undefiled voice of honesty belonged to Billy. Not surprising, considering how Solace had idolized his best friend since she’d been big enough to sit a horse in front of him.
This thought brought back images from this morning, when Solace was holding Bernadette while the child begged her to stay. The moment had held great power, even from across the busy platform: Solace’s love for that little girl had radiated like the morning sun. She talked to Billy’s children straight on, t
oo, without condescending to them. She expected things from those children; she presented ideals and challenges for them to live up to, without withholding her love when they went astray. She would make a wonderful mother someday.
Admit it. You want Solace to raise your children with the same unconditional love she gives to the Bristol kids.
Gabe sighed and gazed out his window. Everything led him back to the young lady sitting across from him. Solace had studied him while he read—watching for reactions to her story, yes, but also sizing him up as a man.
And he liked that. If an amazing woman like Solace Monroe found him interesting enough to admire, maybe he was a worthwhile man, after all. A desirable man, perhaps.
He glanced sideways, to see that Solace sat with her nose pressed to her window. She looked like an eager child as she gazed toward the outskirts of Abilene.
“What do you see?” he murmured.
She giggled. “Off in the distance, toward the fairgrounds, some big tents are going up, Gabe. Do you suppose the circus has come to town?”
He peered out again, but the sun’s glare in his spectacles obscured his view. “No doubt you’ll head that direction at the earliest possible moment.”
“Will you come with me?” Her face enthralled him when she lit up this way. Such a special beauty she had—such a passion, which was lacking in most people.
“We’ll go after my interview, all right?”
As the train approached the Abilene station, Gabe prepared himself for another emotional onslaught. The Malloys were people of deep faith who considered him more family than friend. Their sympathy over Letitia’s death would be sincere, but all the more difficult to bear. While living among the Bancrofts, he’d forgotten how some families supported each other and talked things out. He’d become accustomed to silence, or to conversations that only skimmed the surface—except, of course, when Henrietta had informed him of his many shortcomings.
The sight of Mercy and Michael Malloy standing on the platform—waving eagerly and keeping pace with him when they spotted him in the window—made him realize how much he’d missed out on when he moved to St. Louis. Had it not been for Agatha Vanderbilt’s special affection while he studied under Arthur Bancroft, he’d have existed in an emotional vacuum.
He’d never realized, until he stepped down from the train into Mike and Mercy’s embrace, how insulated his life had been these past eleven years. How isolated he’d truly felt.
“Welcome back, Gabe! We’re so glad to see you!” Mercy cried as she hugged him hard.
Michael’s face, more weathered now but still a beacon, lit up as he wrapped an arm around Gabe’s waist. “We’ve missed you, son. Good to have you back.”
Son. The simplest of words, yet it brought back a flood of feelings he hadn’t known since he was a boy. Michael had called Billy his son, too—at a time when both of them had been left to grow up without their parents. This steadfast man and his wife had filled in a lot of important gaps.
Gabe stepped back to help Solace descend the metal stairs, blinking away the dampness in his eyes. She grasped his hand as she greeted her mildly surprised parents, and he didn’t let go of her. Instead, he gazed briefly at the small, familiar train station—at people dressed in simple, hardworking denim and calico—and drank in the two loving faces he’d missed more than he knew.
“Thank you,” he breathed. “It’s good to be home.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Whatever you did to bring Solace home, I thank you for it.”
Gabe turned from his box of books to look at Mercy Malloy. She wore her brown hair in a simple upsweep now, with a few silver strands shining at her temples. Her clothing looked more stylish than when she’d been a homesteader’s wife, but she still radiated the same solid, sincere warmth he’d always felt in her presence.
He grinned, following her gaze out the window. The young lady in question was carrying water to the trough in the corral, while Lincoln and Lee followed her every move. Rex was at her heels, his whole body wagging with the happiness of returning to his own turf.
“I had little to do with her decision,” he replied. “No one really convinces Solace to do anything.”
Mercy’s laughter rang in the small room that had once been Billy and Joel’s. “You’ve hit the nail on the head, Gabe! Solace has always marched to her own unique cadence—not that she’s wrong to do that.”
Gabe cut the box’s string with his penknife, waiting for the rest of this subject to present itself. Mercy, perhaps because she missed her children and the ones she’d raised as her own, yearned for more conversation. Or was she fishing for information? Things her unusual daughter might not mention to her parents?
“I’m a bit concerned for her, though. She seems eager to marry and have a family, yet she rejects—or repels—every young man who makes overtures.” Mercy smiled at him, as though she trusted him to keep these thoughts in confidence. “While Lily and Grace probably dismissed more young men than we’ll ever know, they at least have the…social graces most men look for in a mate.”
She shook her head, although she was smiling. “Poor Solace! She feels like a fish out of water when her sisters shine at what they do, yet she swims upstream to avoid conforming to the norm. She chooses to go against the tide.”
“She’s her own woman,” Gabe agreed. He slipped a few of his books into the shelf Mercy had emptied for him, wondering how much to reveal. After all, Solace had stated her case very clearly on the train. And while part of him was thrilled that she’d chosen him, he wanted her declarations to remain a secret—something that would have a chance to germinate and grow between the two of them before anyone else drew conclusions about their affection.
“Lily and Grace probably appear more popular because they do go with the flow,” he remarked quietly. “And both have clear visions of their missions right now. But so does Solace.”
He glanced outside again, to where that sturdy figure in denim pants put her geldings through their paces. Rex watched for her signal, and then at precisely the right moment, he leaped up to ride the inside horse. “She’s good with animals, but do you know of her way with children? Bernadette Bristol talked this morning, begging her to stay!”
Mercy’s eyes widened and she clapped her hands together. “No! You mean she just blurted out—”
“Fully formed sentences, yes. She spoke quite clearly and made her point with childlike eloquence,” he went on, happy for this conversational side trip. “Solace had suspected all along that the little dodger could talk, but she didn’t want to.”
He sighed at the memory of that moment at the train station. “It was a sight to behold. Solace was hugging Billy’s little girl to her hip…having a matter-of-fact conversation,” he murmured. “Now they consider Solace a miracle worker, yet Solace—and Beulah Mae—weren’t amazed at all.”
“How relieved Eve must’ve been, after all the doctors they’ve seen these past few years.” Mercy paused, assessing what he’d just said. “Your reason for remaining mute after your family died was different, of course, but I imagine you rejoiced in a special way when Bernadette began to speak. We were all so thrilled when that fur-ball of a puppy brought you out of your silence!”
Gabe’s heart stilled for a moment. How like this woman, to understand his childhood grief as no one else had. “I was so happy to see Billy’s little girl was normal—not to mention extremely intelligent. And I was delighted that it was Solace who got Bernadette talking.”
“And how did Gracie react to that?” Mercy asked pensively. “She’s studied a great deal, hoping to bring language to a child we assumed was mute.”
Gabe smiled at the memory of Solace’s going-away speech. “Solace praised Grace’s teaching ability and love of little children, as though her younger sister possessed far greater skills than she. It’s not true,” he added pointedly, “but she made a convincing case that put Grace in a positive light.”
He grinned, and then procee
ded carefully. “I can’t say Grace was as diplomatic about lifting up Solace’s abilities.”
“We’ve seen some catfights that would curl your hair.” Mercy tugged playfully on his waves, as though he were still a kid. “With three girls only a year apart in their ages, and with such different temperaments, perfectly polite dinner conversations could escalate into clawing matches in the blink of an eye. Poor Michael!” she exclaimed with a laugh. “He knew when the fur was about to fly, but couldn’t stop it. It was much easier with Billy and Joel—even though Joel’s remained a vagabond.”
Gabe recalled Michael’s young son…the dark cloud that had hovered around him even when he was a child. “He was only ten when he ran off, wasn’t he? And you never hear from him?”
She shrugged, and her eyes lost their sparkle. “He drops in now and again. Stays until his father asks what he wants to do with his life, and then goes on his way.”
“I’m sorry,” Gabe murmured. “That must worry you.”
Mercy smiled bravely at him. “Joel’s twenty-one now. If he’s survived this long without begging for money or shelter or forgiveness, he’s figured out how to take care of himself, I guess.”
“Yes, I guess he has.” Gabe tried to picture the wiry, wary man Joel Malloy must have become. But he was twenty-one now? It was one more way life on the Kansas prairie had moved on without him while he’d lived in St. Louis.
Yet returning to this ranch…being here in the home Michael Malloy had built as Mercy’s wedding present, brought back a rush of emotions he hadn’t anticipated. Because he’d grown up with his Aunt Rachel and Uncle George on the neighboring homestead, after his family was slaughtered in Colorado, he’d never really felt he belonged anywhere. He’d felt beholden for every meal, every article of clothing the Clarks had provided. Visiting Billy and playing with the four dogs had been the highlights of his childhood. Judd Monroe and Michael Malloy stood out as monumental men in his early life, and Mercy…well, Mercy was a woman like no other.
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