by Nerys Leigh
But if God was looking after her, couldn’t He have kept Gabriel from guessing at the truth? Or Clive from abandoning her, for that matter? Still, Zach had a point. She was very lucky to have survived. Not that it made her believe in a higher power or anything.
“I’m glad you were here to help me.”
He smiled. “So am I.”
At an all too familiar tingle in her stomach, she looked away. His was a smile that could charm the leaves from the trees, but she wasn’t going to be affected by it. She was done with men, however handsome and kind they were.
“Can I get you anything? Are you hungry?” He pulled a watch from his pocket. “It’s almost seven. Whatever Mrs. Sanchez is making for breakfast today should be cooking by now. I’ll get you something to eat.”
“Seven? In the morning?” It came out before she could stop it.
He burst into laughter. “Not one for rising early?”
“Not if I can possibly avoid it.” Her line of work often meant late nights, which was how she liked it. As far as she was concerned, if she was awake before ten, it was a bad day.
He clapped a hand to his chest, looking up at the ceiling dramatically. “Finally, another civilised person.”
“You don’t like getting up early?”
“There’s a reason I work evenings here,” he said, grinning. “So would you prefer me to let you go back to sleep? I can come back later.”
It was tempting, but now she was awake, her stomach was doing its best to get her attention. She hadn’t had supper the previous evening.
She wondered vaguely if Gabriel had enjoyed her stew.
“Actually, I am hungry.” And not feeling nauseous, for once. Maybe junior was still asleep after the previous night. “I would love some breakfast, thank you.”
“I’ll go see what’s cooking.” He rose from the chair and headed for the door. Opening it, he looked back. “You don’t need to worry about anything. I’ll find you some clothes and you can stay in the hotel for as long as you need. Everything will be all right, I promise.”
The way he said it almost made her believe him, but he didn’t know about the baby. Everything wouldn’t be all right, but for a moment, she allowed herself to enjoy the thought that it might be.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
“It was my pleasure.” He frowned. “Wait, that didn’t sound right. I don’t mean it was my pleasure that you needed my help. I’m sorry about that. But I’m glad I was there when you needed me.”
“Me too.” She was. Very much.
Smiling his too-charming smile again, he stepped out into the hallway and closed the door.
Releasing a deep sigh, Jo lay back into the pillows. The prospect of finding a way to make the money she would now need was exhausting, even before she’d started. But she’d been in worse situations than this and got out of them. She could get out of this one too. Although she’d never had another person relying on her to look after both of them.
She rested a hand on her flat stomach. She still had time before the baby started showing. She’d think of something. She had to.
But first, she’d relax and wait for Zach’s return with breakfast.
Chapter 10
Zach reined Eagle to a halt and looked around, pulling his hat lower to shield his eyes from the morning sun.
He wasn’t even sure why he was out here. He had no way to know which convoluted route Mrs. Silversmith had walked the night before. She could have been almost anywhere, and with the rain washing away any evidence of her passing, he couldn’t even use his meagre tracking skills. And yet here he was, searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack. He was losing his senses.
Seeing no hint of any pink amongst the grass and trees around him, he nudged Eagle into motion again. At least her valise was a colour easily distinguishable from the hues around it. If it had been green or brown, he would have been in trouble.
Although he suspected he might already be in trouble.
Helping her when she’d collapsed in the lobby was a reasonable response to a person in need. Staying with her all night to make sure she was all right was stretching it a little, but could also be regarded as normal, at a push. Riding out into the country to search for her valise when he should have been catching up on his sleep before he had to work again, now that wasn’t normal by any measurement.
She didn’t need the valise. Mrs. Sanchez had lent her a dress and she had friends who would help her. He knew Amy would, without question. He didn’t need to be doing this. And yet here he was.
“What am I doing, Lord?” he murmured, scanning the undergrowth beneath a stand of trees as they passed. “She’s married. Admittedly, to someone who quite possibly threw her out into the night without a thought for her safety, but still, that’s not the point. Am I so desperate for a woman that I’m willing to grab the first one who comes along? I should just turn around now and go back. I will not be trying to curry her favour, no matter what happens with Gabriel Silversmith. And no matter how beautiful and smart she is.” A smile stole onto his face, despite his best efforts to stop it. “Even if she is just about the most beautiful and smart woman I’ve ever met. Exceptional work on her, by the way. That hair, the colour of nutmeg, and the prettiest amber eyes I’ve ever seen. You truly outdid Yourself.” He shook his head at himself. “Listen to me. I sound like a love-struck boy. I’ve barely...”
He stopped, leaning forward to squint at a distant smudge of colour half buried in the long grass. “Well, I’ll be.”
Urging Eagle into a trot, he aimed for the single dot of dirty pink in a sea of brown and green.
When he pulled the soaked valise from where it sat in a shallow puddle, a small muddy waterfall poured from the bottom. It was a mess and he had no idea if anything inside would be salvageable, but he’d found it.
He grinned. “Thank You, Lord!”
Zach didn’t believe in signs. He believed that with faith that God was by his side, a person could get through anything life brought, so he didn’t need to know what it was going to be in advance. However, finding one small valise in the vast area Mrs. Silversmith could have walked could certainly be regarded as a miracle, whatever that meant.
He looked towards the distant foothills. He barely knew Gabriel Silversmith and he’d never been to his house, but he knew more or less where it was. What had happened there to drive her out into the rain and darkness? Was she telling the truth when she said her husband hadn’t mistreated her? Zach had always been pretty good at telling when someone was lying to him and he’d been fairly certain she hadn’t been, but her reluctance to tell him the whole story worried him.
Had Gabriel found out that she was pregnant by another man? Maybe he’d threatened her, driven her out of his house.
Zach wanted to go there and demand Silversmith answered for whatever he’d done. What kind of a man did such a thing to his own wife, no matter what her perceived crimes? She could have died out in the rain, and there were plenty of other dangers out there. Coyotes and wolves had been seen in the valley, and even bears. Not to mention men who wouldn’t think twice about taking captive a lone woman. Anything could have happened to her, and no one would have been there to stop it.
At a pain in his palm, he looked down to see his fist clenched so tight his nails were digging into his skin. Taking a deep breath, he unfurled his hands and released his anger. He didn’t like getting angry. Jesus said getting angry was akin to murder. Zach could understand that, the way he was feeling towards Gabriel Silversmith at that moment.
“I’m sorry, Father,” he said quietly, turning from the distant mountains. “Thank You for protecting Jo last night. Mrs. Silversmith, I mean.” He was already slipping into thinking of her in a more familiar manner.
He shook out the valise and tied it to the back of his saddle, taking his jacket off first and draping it over Eagle’s back to provide a little protection from the rain-soaked material and any sharp edges. It was a
good thing he was riding the laid back bay and not his own horse. At the heavy cold wetness seeping into her hair, she would have flicked her tail and given him the look, the one that always made him feel guilty, and he’d probably have ended up carrying the valise on his own back. He was completely soft when it came to his beloved horse. But she was too close to foaling to ride now.
“Sorry it’s wet,” he said to Eagle as he mounted and turned for home. “We’ll go quick.”
~ ~ ~
Zach found Mrs. Sanchez in the kitchen preparing the restaurant’s lunch when he got back to the hotel. Large pots of bubbling soup sat on the stove’s top while the ovens chugged out heat.
He hung his jacket on a hook near the range to dry out and placed the wet valise onto the table.
Mrs. Sanchez didn’t look up from the saucepan she was stirring. “That wet thing had better not still be on the table when I turn around.”
He grabbed the valise and looked around.
Her focus remained on the saucepan. “By the sink.”
Did she have eyes in the back of her head? Having grown up without a mother, Zach’s experience with the almost supernatural way women had of knowing when someone was doing something they didn’t approve of was mostly learned from Mrs. Sanchez in the two years since he’d started working in the hotel. It both scared and awed him at the same time.
He placed the valise on the tiled surface beside one of the sinks and grabbed a cloth to wipe away the mud it had left on the table.
Mrs. Sanchez placed a lid onto the saucepan and turned around.
“It’s Jo’s,” he said. “I mean, Mrs. Silversmith’s. She lost it while she was walking last night and I went to fetch it.” He didn’t add that she’d had no idea where it was and it had taken him two hours to find it.
“What are you going to do with it? Apart from bringing it in to make my kitchen dirty, that is.”
The valise was a sorry-looking mess, drenched and filthy. “I thought I could clean it up before giving it back to her. She’d be happier if everything was clean, don’t you think?”
“Sí, I imagine she would.”
He looked at it uncertainly. “Would you mind checking inside first? In case there are any... intimate items of clothing.” He hoped he wasn’t blushing.
“Of course I will, but clean the outside of it first.” She patted his arm and returned to the range.
Smiling, Zach got to work.
~ ~ ~
By the time Zach had scrubbed the mud from the valise and Mrs. Sanchez had safely removed anything he shouldn’t see, it was nearing lunchtime. He hid the valise in a closet where Jo wouldn’t accidentally see it if she came downstairs, planning to take it home later and clean and dry the rest of her things there.
“Perhaps you’d like to take Señora Silversmith’s lunch up to her,” Mrs. Sanchez said when he returned to the kitchen, nodding to a tray on the table with a bowl of tortilla soup and a plate of enchiladas.
He stared at it for a whole ten seconds before speaking. “Um... I was thinking of sticking around for lunch before my shift starts.”
“You’re welcome, as always.”
“So, since I am staying, I might as well take my lunch now too.” He cleared his throat.
She glanced back at him. “Help yourself.”
Relieved he’d got that far, he fetched a bowl and plate and dished up his own food from those keeping warm on the range. He placed them onto the tray and picked it up.
“Be careful, Zachary,” Mrs. Sanchez said as he reached the door, “she’s a married woman.”
He stopped and looked back. “It’s only lunch.”
“And the valise?”
“She lost all her things. I thought it would be a nice thing to do.”
“Mm hmm.”
“I’m just being a nice person. You’re always saying I’m nice.” He tried to not sound defensive.
“Just don’t get your hopes up.”
He opened his mouth and then closed it again, shook his head and turned away. He hated how she could see right through him.
“I’m just being nice, Lord,” he muttered as he walked up the back stairs with the tray. “What’s wrong with being nice? You commanded us to be nice. Well, not nice, I don’t remember nice being the actual word. But to love each other. I’m just showing love to Jo, that’s all. Platonic love, with no ulterior motives.” That was a lie, although he was fairly sure he was lying to himself, not God. He apologised anyway. “Sorry, Lord. I’m trying to do the right thing. She’s just so pretty. And funny. And smart.”
And nigh on everything he’d ever dreamed of finding in a woman. And he’d known her a grand total, if he didn’t count their brief conversation the Sunday they first met, of twelve hours. For most of which she’d been asleep.
He sighed. “I’m such a fool.”
Chapter 11
Jo stared into the flames of the fire, her eyes drooping in the warmth.
She probably shouldn’t have been surprised that she was still tired after the night before. At least when Doctor Wilson came to see her earlier he said she’d be all right, both she and her baby.
She’d debated whether to tell him, but concern for her child had won over fear someone may find out. It was strange, this feeling she experienced whenever she thought of him or her. Even when she’d been with Clive, her primary focus had been her own interests. Thinking of someone else with such fierce protectiveness, someone she didn’t even know yet, was alien to her. Was this what being a mother was like? If so, she wasn’t sure she was ready for it. It scared her. If she felt like this now, what was it going to be like when her baby was born and no longer had the security of being inside her body? She was going to be a nervous wreck for the entire rest of her life.
A soft knock nudged her eyes reluctantly open and she pushed herself up straight in the chair. “Come in.”
The door opened to reveal Zach smiling at her. She wished he would stop doing that. His smile was far too attractive for its own good. Or hers.
“I brought you lunch, if you’re hungry,” he said, walking in. “Although I’d recommend eating Mrs. Sanchez’s tortilla soup and enchiladas even if you’re not hungry.”
As if it could understand him, her stomach rumbled quietly, surprising considering the large breakfast he’d brought her earlier. Although that had been a long time ago, thanks to her waking at such a ridiculous time.
“I am hungry.” The tray held two plates and two bowls, and she stifled a smile. “But I don’t think I can eat all that.”
Balancing the tray on one hand, he picked up a small table to place beside her. “Oh, what a shame. Well, I could be persuaded to eat some of it, if you ask nicely.”
Her smile escaped. “How gentlemanly of you.”
“That’s me, the perfect gentleman.” He placed the tray onto the table and carried a second chair from beneath the window, setting it down on the other side of the fire. Looking back at her, a small frown creased his brow. “You have something here.” He touched the hair by his temple.
She raised her hand and brushed it across her hair but felt nothing. “What is it?”
“Just a... here, let me.”
He reached out and she felt the lightest of touches on her hair. When he pulled his hand back, he held a tiny daisy she knew very well hadn’t come from her.
“Goodness,” she said, plucking the flower from his fingertips, “I wonder how that got there.”
He shook his head. “It’s a mystery all right.”
She couldn’t help laughing, both at the trick and his exaggerated bemusement. How a simple sleight of hand trick could make her feel so happy, she had no idea. And yet it did. “Thank you.”
He grinned. “My pleasure.”
She hooked the daisy into one of the buttonholes on the front of her dress and picked up a spoon and one of the bowls, breathing in the aroma drifting from the soup. She had no idea what tortillas were, but it smelled good.
She could see
Zach watching her from the corner of her eye. How he could possibly find her attractive with her hair still flat and bedraggled and wearing one of Mrs. Sanchez’s too big dresses, she had no idea. But she recognised the look in his eyes and she didn’t want to see it on him. A man like Zach could steal her heart away, if she let him. But she wouldn’t, not again.
She raised a spoonful of whatever was in the bowl, stopping when his eyebrows rose. “What?” She looked at the tray. “Should I eat the ench... enchi-whatsits first?”
He smiled. “No, it’s just, we haven’t said the blessing yet.”
They certainly were a religious lot around here.
She lowered the spoon back to the bowl. “Sorry, I forgot. I guess I really am hungry.”
He closed his eyes and bowed his head and she took the opportunity to gaze at his hair. A woman could get lost in the depths of that colour.
Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she closed her eyes. How many times did she have to tell herself? She was done with men.
“Dear Father,” he said, “thank You for this food and for Mrs. Sanchez and her cooking skills. Thank You that we have enough to eat when so many don’t, and please provide for them. Thank You for the company. And I’d like to personally thank You, Lord, for bringing Jo, Mrs. Silversmith, through the rain last night and to the hotel. Thank You that I was still here and able to help, and that she’s much better today. Please continue to heal her and keep her safe, and guide her in whatever she does now. Thank You, Father. In Your Name, Lord Jesus, amen.”
“Amen,” she murmured, a little taken aback at his prayer for her. She couldn’t remember anyone ever praying for her before. She glanced at him. “You can call me Jo, if you like.”
“Thanks,” he said with a rueful smile. “Sorry for slipping up there. I’d like it if you called me Zach.”
It was a mistake to get so familiar with him, but it seemed her usual defences were in ruins. So she smiled and nodded and took her first spoonful of soup as he picked up the second bowl from the tray.
