by Linda Ford
He chuckled. “Seems to me you were the one who kicked the gun from the man. All I did was object to the way he manhandled you.”
She patted his arm. “I’m grateful for it.”
He smiled down at her, making her feel as if she mattered in a special way.
Why was she always looking for someone to care about her? Such a childish thing. She’d soon be a mother and her baby would need her to be strong and self-sufficient.
“It’s getting late and cold.” He rose, then pulled her to her feet. Keeping her hand tucked around his arm and pressed close to his side, he led them back to the hotel. At the door he said goodbye and waited until she lumbered up the stairs before he left.
Missy was in their room, reading by lamplight. She closed the book as Louise entered. “I was beginning to worry about you.”
“Nate showed me a bit of Fort Benton and we met a French Canadian named Pierre. Look what he gave me for the baby.” She handed Missy the wooden cat.
Missy exclaimed over it, then put it on the little table. She faced Louise. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks.” She wasn’t sure what Missy meant and really didn’t care to discuss her situation with her sister-in-law.
“But I’m also worried,” Missy added.
“What are you worried about?” Louise knew what she was doing. She had to move on. Stand on her own as soon as she reached Eden Valley Ranch. Maybe sooner if Nate took it in his mind to leave.
“What if you have the baby while we’re traveling?”
Oh, she meant the baby. “I won’t.” Please, God, don’t let it happen.
“How can you be so sure?”
“It can’t happen until we get to our destination.” She had no trouble convincing herself. Now, if she could just convince the baby it should wait until Christmas.
She prepared for bed and sank into the mattress with a contented sigh. “It feels mighty good to be on something soft.”
Missy turned to consider her. “All that bouncing around might bring the baby on.”
Louise sighed. “And what do you propose I do about it? We weren’t safe back in Rocky Creek.” She hadn’t told Missy of Vic’s plans to sell the baby. In fact, she’d told no one but Nate. “Nate assures me we’ll be safe at Eden Valley Ranch. So I have to make the trip.”
Missy nodded. “I know.” She shivered. “That horrible Vic ruined everything.”
Louise pressed her hands to her tummy. “Not everything.”
“I’m glad you and Nate got married. I’ve always been fond of him. Where are you going to live when we get there?”
“At the ranch.” She hadn’t told Missy the truth about her marriage, and she couldn’t now, not until she had to.
“Does he have his own house?” She sat up on one elbow. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll find someplace else to live.”
Louise propped up on one elbow, too. “What? And deprive this baby of his aunt?”
Missy smiled. “I can hardly wait to meet him or her.”
Not until they reached the ranch, Louise silently pleaded. “Go to sleep now.”
*
The next morning, Nate looked at the pair of new passengers headed for Fort Macleod. Sparky was staying in Fort Benton. But still, Nate wouldn’t fit inside unless Sam or one of the two new men decided to ride up top. None of them volunteered.
He pulled Missy aside. “I was hoping to ride with Louise so I could keep an eye on her. Can you do it for me? Let me know if she needs anything. I’d ask her myself, but she’d say she’s fine.”
“I’m prepared to watch her. I’m as concerned about her as you. But like you say, she’s determined to make this trip. As am I. Vic hasn’t left us much choice but to leave our home behind.”
Nate hadn’t thought of how difficult this must be for Missy. He patted her shoulder. “You’re a brave young woman. Just the sort that does well on the ranch.”
She smiled. “I’ll do my best.” She was the last to climb aboard.
Nate swung to his saddle and followed the departing stage, riding to the side where Louise sat, so he could watch her as they traveled.
They climbed up the steep side of the coulee to level prairie and looked down on the river and town for the last time. From here on, the road grew rougher, the accommodations more primitive. If not for Vic, Nate would never have embarked on this journey with Louise, though he knew she would have gone without his approval. And without his protection.
Four miles later, they crossed the Teton River and continued on the Whoop-Up Trail that would take them to Fort Macleod in Canada.
The wheels rolled on and on, occasionally hitting a rut and pitching forward, then jerking back. Each time he glanced at Louise, worried how she managed the rough ride.
After the first bump, she looked out the window at him. Their gazes caught and held, hers steady, as if informing him she was doing fine.
But by the third jolt, her gaze was less certain. Her lips grew thinner and her eyelids twitched.
When they stopped for their first change of horses, he rushed to help her down. “This is too difficult for you.”
She stood straight, even though the effort caused her to flinch. “I am fine. Besides, what do you suggest I do? Stay here?” She pointed to the crude setup—a run-down cabin and corrals, and a hard-looking man with a cigarette hanging from his mouth.
She patted his arm. “I’m fine,” she repeated. “How are you doing?” She touched the hole in his coat sleeve where the bullet had gone through.
He didn’t bother to answer. After all, what more could he say than what he’d already said?
“Are you sure it’s wise to travel with your injury? Are you warm enough?” she asked, her voice overly sweet and solicitous.
He chuckled. “You’re mocking me.”
“Maybe a little. How does it feel?”
“A little annoying, if you must know.”
“Exactly. So stop fussing at me.”
He grinned. It was good to see she still had a hefty dose of fight in her. “Guess you’re feeling better than I thought. Good enough to be a little feisty.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Best you remember it.” And she made her way gingerly toward the coach.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll remember.” He rushed after her to assist her up the steps. Seeing her fall down them once—or more accurately, yanked down them—was enough for him.
But remembering not to fuss was easier promised than done. As they continued, crossing more bumps than he thought possible, his concern for her grew.
It wasn’t helped any when Sam said, “I’d sooner sit a bucking horse any day than spend another hour tossed about in that cage.”
“Is it that bad?” Nate glanced toward Louise, who used the next break to splash water on her face.
“Say, why don’t you ride inside and I’ll ride the horse,” Sam asked. Then realizing he might have provided a good reason for Nate to refuse him, he quickly added, “I’m just tired of being cooped up when I could be enjoying wide-open spaces.” Sam glanced around. Nothing but prairie to see, but he smiled as if it was the best scenery in the world.
Nate could have saved him the effort of trying to convince him. He was only too happy to ride inside where he could be with Louise.
When he helped Louise into the coach and followed her, she said, “What are you doing?”
“Sam begged to trade places.”
The three ladies sat on one side. Nate made sure he got the spot directly across from Louise and sat down.
She studied him long and hard.
He grinned and shrugged. “I didn’t have the heart to refuse. After all, I know how hard it is for a cowboy to be stuck inside for hours at a time. Isn’t that right, boys?” He turned to the pair beside him.
“That’s right, ma’am,” the older of the two new men said. “Not that I’m a cowboy, of course.” He introduced himself as Archie Adams. “This is my son, Gabe. We’re planning to open a hardware busi
ness in Fort Macleod.” He turned to Nate. “I understand you’ve been there. What’s it like?”
Relieved to have Louise’s attention shifted to the others, Nate told them about the fort. “It’s a bit rough around the edges. It’s built on an island.” He’d spare them the news that spring floods threatened its very existence every year. “It’s the home of the North-West Mounted Police.”
Young Adams leaned forward. “Now, there’s a noble occupation.”
“Indeed.” Nate spent the rest of the afternoon being plied with questions. And bouncing over the rutted trail.
Seeing him occupied with conversation, Louise closed her eyes and clung to the strap by the window. At some point she fell asleep, and her hand released the strap, her head tipped back.
He edged forward, worried she’d fall when they hit a nasty bump.
The next rut threw her forward.
Louise’s head snapped up as she tumbled toward him. Her eyes flew open, wide with fear as she waved her arms in an attempt to stop her fall.
He steadied his feet and caught her, then pushed her back against the bench. “You’re safe. You’re okay.”
She swallowed audibly, holding to his arms with such strength, he knew he would have five little bruises on each arm.
“Missy, trade places with me.” He kept his eyes on Louise as Missy edged past him.
She slowly released her hold on him and he sat down in the middle of the seat, placing one arm around her shoulders. “Put your head here.” He patted the spot on his arms where her head would rest. “I’ll hold you so you can sleep.”
She shook her head. “I’m not tired.”
“Then you must be the only one here who isn’t.”
The others murmured agreement.
“I’ve a very soft shoulder,” he said, hoping to tease her into relaxing.
She eyed the spot, then lifted her gaze to him. “I’m fine.” The protest on her lips did not reach her eyes.
He cupped his hand over her cheek and drew her head down to his shoulder. “Now, that’s not so bad, is it?”
He held her close with one arm about her shoulders. With the other, he grasped the leather strap so that she was held securely in his arms.
She resisted for a moment or two, then with a sigh that reminded him of a cat purring, she leaned into him and fell asleep.
Nate looked down at her, so peaceful, yet even in sleep, he detected signs of strain. He shifted his gaze to Missy.
“I’m worried about her,” Missy whispered, which did nothing to alleviate Nate’s concerns.
“I’ll take care of her.”
Missy nodded. “I know you will.” She opened her mouth as if she meant to say more but glanced at the others in the coach and didn’t speak.
Nate adjusted his position, getting as comfortable as possible, considering the way he sat. The stage jolted a bit and he held Louise steady. If only the trail would remain smooth for the next hour so she could sleep.
He no sooner thought it than the front wheels lurched into a rut and unseated them all. He braced his feet and held on tight, keeping both himself and Louise planted.
“Oh,” she groaned and pressed a palm to her bulging belly. Her eyes flew open and her gaze hit Nate’s, full of surprise and fear. Then she pulled her stubbornness back into place. “I’m fine.”
“Yup. Of course you are. No doubt enjoying this rough ride as much as the rest of us.”
She had the good grace to look less defensive. “No more, no less than the others.” She pushed aside his hand holding her in place.
“Did you have a good sleep?” he asked, keeping his voice so innocent that she frowned at him.
“Don’t tease me. It’s not kind.”
Missy leaned forward, an innocent look on her face. “After all she’s huge and uncomfortable. You should show her extra kindness.”
“Missy, not you, too!” Louise blurted out.
Missy widened her eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’ve been fussing at me since we left. Just like Nate.”
He and Missy grinned at each other.
“I live for the day she’ll see me as an adult,” Missy said.
Nate replied, “I live for the day she’ll say she appreciates my concern.”
Miss Rolfe sighed. “She’s fortunate to have you. I’d give anything for a man who looked at me the way you look at her.”
Him? How did he look at her? He felt Louise’s questioning gaze on him, but he couldn’t meet her eyes. Not until he figured out what Miss Rolfe meant and could change it. But surely it was only the wishful thinking of a woman desperate to find a husband.
Slowly he brought his gaze to Louise, his eyes revealing nothing but denial.
She squinted at him long enough to make him want to blink, but he would not. If he looked at her in any fashion, it was only that he didn’t want to see something bad happen to her before they reached the ranch. Partly because anything bad would mean a delay and he didn’t have time to waste if he meant to buy himself a ranch before Christmas, and partly because, yes, he cared for her, for the sake of their shared past.
It was in his best interests in every way to keep her safe and able to travel every day. That’s all it was.
Chapter Seven
Louise wanted to tell Nate she didn’t need his tender care—she’d only accepted his help to get her away from Vic—but it had felt so good and safe to rest on his shoulder. What was the harm in relaxing in his arms for a little while?
By the time they stopped for the night, she was weary clear through and only too happy to let him lead her into the way station.
“This is where we spend the night,” he said.
She looked around the long room mostly filled with a wooden table, a few cupboards and a stove. Through one door she could see a narrow cot in an equally narrow room. There were no other doors. No other rooms. “Where do we sleep?”
“We sleep on the floor.” Nate sounded apologetic.
“I knew that.” She’d read about those traveling by stagecoach. But somehow knowing it and being faced with it were two different things. “It will be fine.”
“Then maybe you can stop squeezing my arm. My fingers are going numb.”
“Okay.”
“I still can’t feel my fingers.”
She looked at her hand. “Really? I told it to let go.” But her fingers still gripped him so hard she knew she would leave permanent indents in his flesh.
He slowly pried her fingers open and held her hands, palms down so she couldn’t latch on to him again.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“I can see that. Do you want to sit?”
“I’ve been sitting all day.”
“I know. Do you want to walk?”
She nodded. Why was she being so silly? To a large degree she had taken care of herself all her life. She’d lived in rough mining camps where accommodations were more primitive than this. She didn’t need anyone to hold her hand. If it weren’t for Vic’s threats she wouldn’t even have appealed to Nate in the first place. It had to be pregnancy doing this to her…making her needy and weepy.
No. She would not cry. Deep breaths. She had to take deep breaths to keep the tears at bay.
“Come.” He pulled her outside into the cold air and held her by the shoulders. “Are you going to faint?”
“I’m fine.” She swallowed twice. Fainting had not entered her mind, but tears were so close to the surface she tasted their salty brine in the back of her throat.
“Yeah, I know.”
She chuckled at the droll tone of his voice.
“That’s better. Now, if you’d boss me around, I’d feel even better.”
She sputtered a protest. “I am not bossy.”
“I know.”
They both laughed.
“Are you feeling better now?” he asked.
She pretended to be huffy. “There was never anything wrong with me. I’m fi—”
&n
bsp; “I know. You’re fine. You are enjoying the journey. Just as you’ll enjoy the food here and the nonexistent bed.”
She turned away from him as her tears threatened to overflow. She’d give anything for a soft bed to rest on, but if everyone else slept on the floor, so would she. She shivered as a cold winter wind blasted around the corner. “Let’s go inside.”
He led her back, held the door open and followed her inside.
The driver and the man who ran the stopping place came in behind them.
“The temperature is falling tonight.” The man hurried to the stove and threw in two chunks of wood. He was short and moved as if his boots were full of springs. “Stew’s about ready. And bread fresh from the oven.” He opened the door, and the aroma of freshly baked bread wrapped around Louise. How bad could things be when the man made his own bread?
Miss Rolfe sidled up to him. “You make bread? I’d say that makes you a rare gem.”
The man blushed clear to his hairline. “Matter of survival, miss, and I ain’t never found any of the passengers complained about being served it.”
“My name is Rowena Rolfe. Miss Rowena Rolfe. And yours?”
The man turned to face the others who watched Miss Rolfe as if they’d paid for the entertainment. “Sorry, folks. I forgot my manners. I’m your host, Peace Lewis. Everybody just calls me Peace. Ain’t that right, Dutch?” he asked of the stagecoach driver.
Dutch? Why had she not heard his name before now?
Dutch shed his big buffalo coat and parked on the bench on one side of the table. “That’s right, Peace. And I’ve been counting the miles since noon hoping you’d have bread in the oven when we got here.”
“Everyone, sit,” Peace said. He grabbed a stack of tin plates from the cupboard and skirted Miss Rolfe.
When Nate and Louise sat down, she leaned over to whisper in his ear, “Miss Rolfe looks as if she’s measuring the poor man for a wedding suit.”
He grinned at her and nodded. “I doubt she can run fast enough to catch him.”
Peace handed the plates around, then brought over the pot of stew. He placed the hot bread before them along with a big knife for cutting.
Louise glanced around the table. Everyone looked as eager as she felt to dig in.
