At that moment, Cord, dressed in the black suit he’d worn to the fall dance, stuck his head in the room. “Nick’s already in the carriage. Are you ladies about ready to load up and head to town for the funeral services?”
Emma immediately covered the loaves of bread with a cloth and removed her apron. “Yes, we’re ready. Manuela will be here to tend what’s still cooking. And it’ll take us no time to get the rest of the food ready for the wake once we return.”
Jordan put the last peeled potato into the pot of water and carried it to the cookstove. Sarah followed with the cookies, opened the oven door, and shoved them inside.
She purposely lingered, however, as the other women filed through the kitchen door Cord held open for them. And, as she finally approached him, he moved to block her way, letting the door swing closed behind him.
Sarah halted. “Yes? Did you have something to tell me?”
He eyed her for a long moment, and in that gaze she saw pain, uncertainty, and longing. Her heart went out to him. On impulse, she moved close and hugged him.
For an instant, Cord just stood there. Then, with a shuddering sigh, he wrapped his arms around her and laid his head atop hers.
“Oh, if only you knew how many times in these past days I’ve wanted to hold you like this!”
Sarah snuggled all the closer. “No more, I’d imagine, than I’ve wanted to hold you.”
“I’m sorry if I seemed to have kept you at a distance,” he whispered into her hair. “I’ve just been so confused . . . so conflicted.”
Leaning back, she put a finger to his lips. “Hush, my love. There’s a time for everything, and there’ll soon be a time again for us. Right now, though, it’s time to pray over and bury your father.”
Cord stared down at her, his eyes filling with tears. Then he took her hand in his and nodded.
“Thank you for understanding. And thank you, most of all, for standing by me. I love you.”
“And I love you.”
He squeezed her hand then turned, tugging her along with him. “Come on. Let’s go. The others are waiting on us.”
Heart so full she thought it couldn’t hold any more, she wordlessly followed him from the kitchen.
“Now, you be sure and write,” Shiloh said on a chilly November morning three days later as the stagecoach pulled up before the Ashton stage depot. She grabbed Sarah by both arms. “And if you need anything from Denver when you begin your wedding preparations, let me know and I’ll send it to you. Or, I can bring it with me when I return for Christmas.”
“I will,” Sarah replied. “Not that Cord and I have made any definite plans or set a date yet.”
Shiloh laughed. “Maybe not, but the way I see my brother looking at you sometimes, I’m thinking a wedding isn’t all that far off. Is it, big brother?”
Cord chuckled. “Maybe not. But I’m also not going to let you railroad me or Sarah into picking a date until the both of us are good and ready.”
His sister’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “Now, why would you think I’d do a thing like that?”
“Because I know you pretty well?” He grinned, then turned to gaze up at the big stagecoach just a few feet from them. “Need any help climbing up into the coach?”
“Trying to get rid of me, are you?” Shiloh asked. “Before I convince you to change your mind and carry Sarah off to the preacher this very day?”
He rolled his eyes. “Hardly.”
Shiloh wheeled around and gave Sarah a quick hug. “I’m so glad you’re going to be my sister-in-law,” she whispered loudly enough for Cord to hear. “And Cord’s so blessed to have you, though, with him being a man and all, I’m not certain he’ll ever realize how much.”
Releasing Sarah, she turned back to her brother. “Well, I guess you can lend me a hand in getting into this wooden contraption. Now that I’m a grown woman and professional teacher, I mean.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed how all that’s made such a difference in your dignity and comportment,” he said with a smirk as he held out his hand.
“As if you’d know,” Shiloh said with a disparaging snort, accepting his assistance. “You ran off to New York well before I grew up. All you remember is me in pigtails and overalls, trailing around behind you everywhere you went.”
“Well, you’re not in pigtails and overalls anymore.”
“No, I’m most certainly not.” His sister paused, her foot on the coach’s first step, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “But you’ll always be my big brother.”
Cord grinned. “That I will. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
With that, Shiloh climbed into the stagecoach and took her seat. Her traveling bag was quickly loaded. In but a few minutes, the driver snapped the reins over the backs of his team of horses, and the coach pulled away from the depot.
Sarah and Cord watched the stagecoach drive off down Main Street, heading east over and through the mountains to Denver. When the vehicle was no longer in sight, Cord turned to her.
“I thought, since we’re in town, that we might have lunch at the Wildflower Café before we head back to the ranch. Unless you have other plans?”
She smiled. “No other plans, except to spend this time with you. And lunch would be wonderful.”
“Good.” He paused. “You know, Shiloh’s coming home again for Christmas break and will be staying until after the New Year. Maybe we should get married after Christmas. It’s only a short day’s ride for Jordan and her family to join us. We can have a small wedding with all the family in attendance.” Cord eyed her expectantly. “What do you think?”
Sarah was tempted to mention the fact that all of the family actually wouldn’t be there for the wedding but decided it was pointless to do so. It wasn’t Cord’s fault, after all, that her family had refused to meet him even halfway. Indeed, with each passing day, the Wainwrights—all of them—were fast becoming the only real family she and Danny had.
She managed what she fervently hoped was an appropriately happy smile. “The end of December suits me just fine. Should be more than enough time to make all the preparations.”
He took her by the arm. “Then we have even more of a reason to have a nice lunch to celebrate our wedding date, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes, indeed,” Sarah agreed, nodding.
“On the way, I need to stop by the sheriff’s office,” Cord said as they started down the boardwalk.
There was only one reason Cord would want to pay Gabe a visit. Sarah halted and turned to him. “Need an update on what’s being done to apprehend my father and brothers, do you?”
Her expression told it all. With just a few ill-chosen words, he’d effectively destroyed the formerly happy mood. Cord almost regretted bringing up the subject. Almost.
“I’m not going to keep the truth from you, Sarah,” he said. “I thought about it a lot, and we’ve got to be honest with each other. Your family must be stopped, once and for all, or the trouble will only continue. You know that as well as I.”
“Yes, I know that,” she replied, looking down. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything else. Then, squaring her shoulders, Sarah lifted her glance to his.
“I don’t like it, but I know there’s no other way. Papa . . . well, he’s not all that reasonable anymore. I just keep hoping that once he’s had some time to consider things, he’ll finally get better.”
The man’s a raving lunatic, Cord thought, and so obsessed with revenge he can no longer think straight! But he also realized how hard it must have been for Sarah to admit what she had. And as much as he could, he wanted to spare her any more pain.
“Well, maybe so.” Once again, he offered her his arm, and she looped hers through his. “Let’s just get this visit with Gabe over and done with, so we can enjoy the rest of the day.”
They strolled down the boardwalk fronting the businesses, Cord dreading the coming visit with Gabe Cooper as much as he imagined Sarah was. What they had, in the first flush of their
newfound love, was still so fragile. He didn’t want to do anything to threaten it.
Anger at her father welled anew. The man seemed to destroy whatever he got his hands on. Cord feared what his ongoing vendetta against the Wainwrights might ultimately do to his and Sarah’s relationship. More than anything he’d ever wanted, he wanted that embittered, vengeful, selfish old man out of their lives. But he also wanted him gone with little or no hurt to Sarah. Realistically, though, that wasn’t likely to happen, so the best he could do was try to minimize her pain as much as possible.
The wind kicked up as they walked along, gusting down from the mountains that enclosed the valley. Clouds bunched and collided overhead, growing ever darker. A storm was coming and likely, from the bite in the air, one that would finally bring snow. He only hoped Shiloh would be well on her way to lower elevations before the full brunt of bad weather struck.
“Do you want to be there when I talk with Gabe?” Cord asked as they drew near the sheriff’s office. “It’s up to you.”
She shook her head. “No. You can tell me all about it later.”
“Well, it’s too cold for you to wait for me outside.” An odd relief filled him. “I could be a while.”
“The Wildflower Café is just down the street. You can meet me there when you get done.” She disentangled her arm from his. “See you soon.”
Cord watched her head down the boardwalk and finally cross the street directly opposite the little café. Only when she was safely inside did he turn and enter the sheriff’s office. When the blast of cold air heralded Cord’s arrival, the lawman and his young deputy looked up from their desks.
“I was wondering when you’d be stopping by,” Gabe drawled.
“Had a few things to finish up since the funeral.” Cord pulled over a chair and sat. “Jordan left for home yesterday, and Sarah and I just saw Shiloh off for Denver on the stage.”
Gabe leaned back. “And where’s Sarah now?”
“She’s waiting for me at the café.” Cord smiled grimly. “I reckon she didn’t want to hear all the sordid details of our conversation.”
“This is sure to be hard on her. Going after her father and brothers, I mean.”
“Are you suggesting I just forget and forgive?” Cord found he could barely contain the edge of anger in his voice.
“No.” The sheriff adamantly shook his head. “Of course not. A crime’s been committed. Even if you didn’t want to press charges, I’d still have to bring them in.”
Cord glanced toward the open door of the room that held several empty jail cells. “Well, I’m not seeing any of them behind bars yet, so I assume you’re still looking.”
Gabe sighed. “Those Caldwells know these mountains like the back of their hands. Sooner or later, though, they’ll slip up. Then we’ll be there to catch them.”
“Let’s just hope the Wainwrights don’t lose many more cattle before that happens. Or any more lives.”
The blond lawman looked down, hesitated, then met Cord’s gaze. “Have you ever asked Sarah where she thinks her family might be holed up? Any leads right about now would surely help.”
“No, I haven’t and I won’t.” Once more, Cord’s emotions roiled with a mix of frustration and fury. “I’m afraid it might drive a wedge between us that could never be breached. Besides, she’s hurting enough as it is.”
“That’s your choice, I reckon.” Gabe shrugged. “But you’re also smart enough to realize that decision puts the ranch and all its inhabitants in danger. Leastwise until the Caldwell men are all behind bars. And I’m hoping Sarah realizes that too.”
“Maybe she does, and maybe she doesn’t.” Cord riveted a steely gaze on his friend. “Either way, I don’t want you or anyone else bringing that up. Do you understand me?”
Gabe studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “Yeah, I reckon I do.”
“And what would you like on such a cold, nasty day?” Ruth Ann Lewis, proprietor, cook, and occasional waitress asked, pencil and pad in hand.
From her seat at a table close to the potbellied stove in the middle of the dining room, Sarah smiled up at her. “I’m waiting on Cord until we order lunch, so a pot of hot tea will do for now.”
“With cream and sugar on the side?”
“Yes, that’d be lovely.”
As Ruth Ann hurried away, Sarah leisurely surveyed her surroundings. She had passed by this café many times in the years since it had been opened but never once, until today, walked inside. There’d been no reason to do so. It was all she and her family could do to afford the food she cooked at home, much less a meal prepared in such a setting.
But that had all changed now. Though Cord struggled with the ranch finances since the robbery, the Wainwrights still had the means to eat out from time to time. And someday once he had the ranch back on a solid footing, Sarah knew their lives would be quite comfortable. It was a realization that, even now, filled her with wonder and delight.
So today, she allowed herself to bask in the newfound luxury of sitting in the Wildflower Café and feeling for the first time that she belonged here as much as any of the other people in the room. It was a cozy, colorful little place, from its yellow and blue calico café curtains and valances trimmed with a yellow-gingham-checked lower border covering the windows fronting the street, to the white linen tablecloths on each round table with underskirts matching the curtains, to the simple white bud vases with dried flowers decorating the table centers. The walls were painted a soft, soothing, muted blue. The floors were dark stained pine plank. And colorful, framed paintings of springtide fields of mountain wildflowers graced the walls.
Ruth Ann walked up at that moment with a little, flower-painted china teapot and cup and saucer, with matching sugar bowl and creamer, on a tray. “Here you go, sweetie,” the older woman said, her chubby cheeks flushed, her smile open and warm. “Would you like a menu to look at while you wait?” she asked as she set the teapot and the other utensils on the table before Sarah.
“Yes, that’d be nice.”
A few steps to a nearby long work table against the far wall, and the Wildflower Café’s proprietor was back with a small, framed slate on which she’d written the day’s offerings. “I change the menu most days,” she explained, “depending on what’s available and however I feel inspired. That way it keeps things as interesting for me as it does for my customers.”
“And also keeps things fun for everyone,” Sarah said with a grin.
“So, you like to cook too, do you?”
She considered that question for an instant, then nodded. “Yes, I suppose I do. It was always a challenge trying to make something different with the limited amount and variety of food we had. Still, more often than not, I surprised all of us with how tasty and nourishing most of my meals were.”
“Well, I’m always needing extra help in the kitchen, if you’re ever looking for a job.” Ruth Ann indicated the menu in Sarah’s hands. “See what you think of what I came up with today. This time of year, my choice of fresh ingredients gets a bit limited. And there’s only so many things you can do with root crops.”
“I’m not at all worried. I’ve heard nothing but praise for your café ever since it opened.”
The older woman beamed. “I’m glad to hear it. I—”
The little bell over the front door tinkled, and a blast of chill air swirled in. Both women’s glances turned to the newest group of people to enter.
Sarah’s heart sank. Allis Findley, accompanied by two women friends, walked in and quickly shut the door behind them. For a moment Allis stood there like some queen, surveying the room and its inhabitants, before finally settling her regal glance on Sarah. Immediately, her expression turned sour. Her mouth puckered in distaste.
“Well, will wonders never cease?” she purred, her eyes glittering with malice. “Some people never know when to keep out of sight or mind, do they?”
13
As she stared back at Allis, several options raced through
Sarah’s mind. Ignore the woman entirely and continue her conversation with Ruth Ann. Acknowledge the unkind comment with an equally unkind one of her own. Or, last but certainly not least, excuse herself politely, get up, walk over, and punch Allis in the face.
For a fleeting, if most pleasurable instant, Sarah savored the last choice, then regretfully chose the first. Not only was it unladylike, but it was downright disrespectful to Ruth Ann to get in a tussle in her establishment. It was also, as Cord’s fiancée, now beneath her to stoop to such childish behavior—no matter how badly the snobbish Allis Findley needed a lesson.
Above all, since she had turned her heart and life back to God, she was trying to live the way He would want her to live. And that, as hard as it was in this particular instance, meant turning the other cheek.
Sarah forced a smile onto her lips. “Good day to you too, Allis,” she called, then looked back to Ruth Ann. “Thank you so much for the tea. And the menu,” she added, holding up the slate. “Already I’m leaning toward the pork sandwich with coleslaw and fried potatoes, but I’ll defer my final decision until Cord arrives.”
The older woman glanced uncertainly from her to where Allis and her two friends had taken a seat across the room. Already, the trio had their heads together whispering.
“The ham and scalloped potato casserole is also particularly tasty, in case you have second thoughts.” She paused, managing a tentative smile. “Well, if you don’t need anything else right now . . .”
“Believe me, Ruth Ann.” Sarah returned her smile with a reassuring one of her own. “I’ll be fine. Really, I will.”
Ruth Ann nodded and headed off to the kitchen. Just as soon as she was out of earshot, however, the whispering at Allis’s table grew loud enough for everyone in the dining room to hear.
“The nerve of her . . . after what happened to poor Edmund Wainwright!”
“Shouldn’t surprise you. She’s always been a brazen little tart . . .”
“Have you heard the latest rumors about her and the two Wainwright brothers?”
Heart of the Rockies Collection Page 19
