Her Silent Burden (Seeing Ranch series) (A Western Historical Romance Book)

by Florence Linnington

  “It’s yours,” Wakefield said, laying an arm across her shoulders.

  “We’ll be putting it in now if that’s all right,” the man who’d led the horses said. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face. “It’s not getting any earlier, and our suppers are waiting.”

  Thea stood to the side with Wakefield as the men opened the back of the wagon, and carefully edged the piano to the ground. It took all of them to carry it into the cabin. Once they were inside, she rushed to the doorway and watched as they set it against the wall across from the cook stove.

  “Go ahead,” Wakefield urged her.

  She didn’t need a second invitation. Crossing the cabin’s floor, Thea went to the piano and ran her fingers across its lid. Despite the tarps’ protection, some road dust had slipped into the wagon and settled in a thin layer on the piano.

  Thea went to wipe the dust with her apron, and realized she still held the eggs. She hurriedly went to put them down on the table. Wakefield was standing in the doorway handing the man in charge a fold of money. The other fellow touched his hat and strode back to the wagon, where the others waited for him.

  “Where did you... We’re on a mountain,” Thea said, stating the obvious.

  Wakefield took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “It was hard to get it up here, but not impossible.”

  “From where?” Thea nearly cried. Without any warning, her hands began shaking and tears collected in her eyes.

  “Thea.” Wakefield’s whole face softened. “Hey, now. What’s this about?”

  She shook her head and pressed two fingers to her lips.

  Closing the space between them, Wakefield wrapped his arms around Thea and pulled her tight to his chest. Pressing her cheek against his shirt, she let out a rattling exhale.

  “You all right?” he asked, his breath blowing her hair.

  She nodded against him and then stepped back to make eye contact. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

  “Course I did.” Taking her hand in his, he tenderly ran his other one down her cheek. “You’re my girl.”

  Thea’s throat burned. She didn’t want to be crying, but she couldn’t help it. A piano—a piano brought to her on the side of a mountain—was more than she could have ever imagined.

  “But where did it come from?” she asked.

  “Pathways. It was sitting in this rich old man’s house, but he never played it, I guess.”

  “And how did you find out about it?”

  Wakefield looked her straight in the eye. “I pay attention to talk. Well? Are you gonna play it?”

  An excited cry left Thea, and she let go of Wakefield’s hand to untie her apron.

  “It needs a bit of care first,” she explained, using the cleanest part of the apron she could find to dust the piano. Once she was satisfied she’d gotten enough dirt and grime off, she opened up the lid, took a seat, and struck middle C.

  It needed tuning. That much was apparent right away.

  “You haven’t happened to hear anything about a piano tuner while paying attention to local talk, have you?” she asked as she tested out each key.

  “I’ll ask. One has to at least travel near Shallow Springs or Pathways at some point.”

  Thea turned on the bench and gave Wakefield a big smile. “Even without tuning, it’s wonderful. Thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me.”

  She pressed her lips together, afraid of becoming too emotional once more.

  Wakefield leaned in the doorway, arms folded, and just looked back at her. Thea could see in the way he looked at her that he was happy as well, that he loved her as much as she’d come to love him.

  “Play me something,” he said. “Whether it’s in tune or not.”

  “Hm. All right.”

  Thea stretched her fingers and played the first thing that came to mind. It was a poor rendition because the piano was severely out of tune, but Thea gave it everything she had. With each bar, it was like she came more alive. The music called out to a piece of her she’d left behind in South Carolina. With a piano under her touch, she was whole again.

  She held down the last chords, allowing them to ring throughout the cabin.

  “That was amazing,” Wakefield said in awe. “What was that?”

  “Mozart.” Thea looked over her shoulder at him. “If you liked that, you should hear it played by a real pianist.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t need to hear a real pianist, or whatever it is you think you’re not. I only need to hear my wife play. And I say that was wonderful.”

  Thea felt herself blush. “Thank you.”

  Wakefield glanced out at the yard. “I want to hear another one, but I have to get back to the saloon. Tonight? After supper?”

  Thea nodded, so much joy inflating her heart she thought she might suddenly float away, like a hot air balloon.

  “Good.” Wakefield came to the piano and kissed the top of her head. Thea closed her eyes, absorbing his love and kindness.

  Not only had she been in the right when it came to marrying Wakefield, but it seemed God had planned so much more for her than she could have ever predicted. Music was her retreat from the world, a place as sacred to her as prayer. If a piano had come her way, surely it was through the hand of God.

  She couldn’t wait to see what came next.

  Chapter 16

  things felt off balance

  16. Wakefield

  Chapter sixteen

  “How long are you going to be whistling for?” Noah asked from where he sat fixing a chair’s bum leg.

  Wakefield sent a grin across the saloon. “Long as I feel like it.”

  “What’s that song, anyway?” Noah asked, putting down his hammer and testing the chair’s leg with a shake.

  “Mozart.”

  “Well, aren’t you fancy.”

  “Yeah,” Wakefield impudently responded. “Maybe I am.”

  “Or more like that wife of yours is fancy, and it’s rubbing off on you.”

  “Same thing.” Wakefield swirled around the bottle of amaretto he’d mixed up. “Taste this.”

  He poured Noah a bit in a shot glass and slid it across the bar. Noah swished the liqueur around, taking his time tasting before swallowing it.

  “Fine with me,” he announced.

  “Agh.” Wakefield made a face. “It has extra vanilla in it. Almost a third more than the last batch. Doesn’t it taste any different?”

  Noah shrugged.

  “I’ll add more,” Wakefield decided.

  “She likes that piano, then?” Noah asked, leaning against the bar.

  Wakefield couldn’t help but smile. “She loves it.”

  The money Wakefield had dropped on that piano had been the best he ever spent. He kept picturing Thea’s face when he had flung the tarp off the piano the day before. She’d gone so pale he thought she was about to faint.

  When he’d come home for supper, he found the cook stove cold and Thea playing away. She’d been so apologetic about forgetting to get supper on, but all he could do was laugh.

  After they finally got some supper in them, he’d sat in the doorway and listened while she played for hours. It wasn’t until her fingers began to cramp that she finally stopped playing and they went to bed.

  Wakefield smiled to himself. She was probably playing right then. Hopefully, she’d at least remember to feed the chickens and heat the stove for supper.

  “I should get married,” Noah said suddenly.

  Wakefield looked over and found his friend frowning at the empty shot glass in his hand. He almost made a joke about the statement, but Noah looked so serious… and almost sad.

  “What do you suppose the chances are of meeting a gal all the way up here?” Noah asked.

  “Not good. Sorry. What about the mail-order bride agency? You were so keen on me writing in, and now look. I couldn’t be...” Wakefield trailed off, regretting being so honest and emotional.

>   “You’re happy,” Noah finished. “Happier than I’ve seen you in years.”

  The ‘years’ part of the statement twisted Wakefield’s stomach. He didn’t want to think of bygone things. Not when he was basking in the joy of his new life.

  Wakefield turned away, not wanting Noah to see his face.

  “Wakefield?”

  “Uh-huh?” he asked, pretending to be busy shining a bar knife.

  “How much did you tell Thea about… your life?”

  Wakefield bristled at the question—like a dog spooked, his hackles shot up and his shoulders hunched.

  “She knows I was married before,” he answered dryly.

  “Does she know about anything else?”

  Wakefield’s jaw tightened, but he kept his hands busy, not wanting Noah to know how much the interrogation was getting to him.

  “I’m only asking out of curiosity,” Noah said. “Course you don’t have to tell me anything. I don’t know much about marriage. Blasted, I don’t know anything about it.”

  Wakefield eyed Noah over his shoulder. “You got some secrets I should know about?”

  Noah guffawed. “I think you know everything about me there is to. I’m only wondering if a woman might be as understanding.”

  Wakefield shook his head. He’d known Noah since the fellow was just getting into manhood. Any ‘crimes’ of his past were nothing compared to Wakefield’s.

  “Aw, forget about it,” Noah said.

  Wakefield looked at the floor and ran his tongue across his front teeth. He wanted to talk for Noah’s sake, but he didn’t want to focus on his own history.

  As if deciding for him, Outpost’s front door opened, and Daniel Zimmerman strode in. His cane thumped on the boards, acting as a third leg, and he took off his bowler hat as he approached the bar.

  “Mr. Zimmerman,” Wakefield said. “How are you?”

  “Well,” he answered, shaking Wakefield’s hand and then Noah’s. “How is business?”

  “Great. Keep working your men hard, and they’ll always be thirsty. Have a seat. What can I pour you?”

  Daniel chuckled as he eased himself down at the bar. “Bartender’s choice. I’m done early today. Just went and visited the mine. I imagine you’ll be packed in here once all those workers leave for the day.”

  Wakefield grabbed the whiskey bottle without even looking. Everything in his saloon always sat in the same spot. It was the number one reason he stayed efficient.

  “Here’s hoping,” he answered, pouring Daniel a shot.

  “You have any trouble around here lately?” Daniel asked.

  Noah looked over from where he was wiping down the tables and locked gazes with Wakefield.

  “Nothing much out of the ordinary,” Wakefield carefully answered. “You asking about something specific?”

  Daniel frowned and shrugged. “A farmer was found shot dead outside of Pathways. All his money was taken. They haven’t caught whoever did it.”

  Dread rumbled in Wakefield’s belly.

  “I wonder if that has anything to do with the claim jumpings,” Noah said.

  “Claim jumpings?” Wakefield barked.

  Noah lifted a shoulder like it was no cause for worry at all. “I heard there was some claim jumps west of Pathways.”

  “How far west? What claims?”

  “Right,” Daniel nodded. “They arrested the men responsible for those.”

  “Were they related?” Wakefield asked. Worry was churning in his gut. Claim jumps happened in areas where the homesteads were spread out, and where there were no lawmen in the immediate vicinity. Places like Whiteridge.

  Wakefield ran his hand over his mouth and tried not to curse. He was glad his cabin was a few minutes’ walk away. Still, if something were to happen… if Thea were to scream… would he hear her?

  Likely not.

  “They don’t know if the men who did it were working together,” Daniel answered. “Although, I can’t imagine they were. Claim jumping doesn’t exactly sound like a complicated crime.”

  Wakefield gripped the side of the bar and looked through the window, noting the shadows. It wasn’t even noon yet. He’d brought his lunch to the saloon and hadn’t planned on going home till supper.

  “That fellow What’s-His-Name started a scuffle in here some weeks ago,” Noah said. “Lyman.”

  “What over?” Daniel asked.

  “Never found that out. He’s been in a couple times since and nothing’s come of it, though.”

  Wakefield picked up a rag, started to wipe off the already-clean counter, and tossed the rag back down. “I need to go out for a bit. Mr. Zimmerman, it was nice seeing you. Noah, I’ll be back soon.”

  Noah cocked an eyebrow at him.

  “Soon,” Wakefield repeated. Giving the men a nod goodbye, he grabbed his hat from the hook and went out the front.

  Maybe he had a tendency to worry too much. Or old age was addling his brains. Or it could be that things had been going so well lately, he found it hard to believe they’d continue on that way.

  But staying in the saloon and getting agitated wouldn’t do him any good. Talk about claim jumping and Ed Lyman, the one person in Whiteridge who really got under Wakefield’s skin, had him worked up. He didn’t even know what he was worried about; he only knew something had his heart racing. It would be foolish to stay at the saloon when things felt off balance.

  Once he set his gaze on Thea and saw she was fine, he would breathe easy again—but not a moment before.

  Chapter 17

  shadows lengthened another inch

  17. Thea

  Chapter seventeen

  Thea looked up and down the quiet road. All day long, she’d heard booming and some muffled shouts from the coal mine. She knew it was on the other side of the mountain, and though she had a burning desire to walk over there and see it, but that was certainly the worst choice she could make.

  The mine swam with men. It was no place for a woman to be on her own. Plus, if she showed her face anywhere near it, someone would certainly see her and inform Wakefield.

  Walking to Jenny’s house had made Thea feel guilty enough. Other than finally getting to spend some time with her new neighbor (and Peter, who talked nonstop, and Farrow, who spoke not at all), Thea felt generally awful about the whole situation.

  She hadn’t been able to take the muffins Jenny offered her, for fear that Wakefield would ask where they were from. She hadn’t been able to stay for lunch, as she’d been asked to because being away from home too long made her feel worried.

  She had told her husband she wouldn’t go off on her own, and she hadn’t been true to that promise. Ridiculous as his request was, Thea did not like lying—and staying mum on a topic was as good as lying.

  Tying her bonnet strings tightly under her chin, Thea sighed and headed down the road. Some loose pebbles slipped under her feet, and she bent her knees against the worst of the incline.

  The cabin was as she’d left it, chickens scratching around in the dirt and the sun shining into the garden. Thea smiled to herself as she entered and hung her bonnet up. Keeping up the cabin had proven to be hard work, but that was now made easier by the piano’s arrival. With the piano waiting for her, she found herself flying through her chores at an amazing speed. The evening before, she’d played till her hands hurt, and she intended to do the exact same tonight.

  “Thea!”

  She spun around, staring at the doorway. The call had been muffled, but it clearly belonged to Wakefield.

  Clutching the door frame, she looked out in the yard. Which direction had the call come from?

  “Thea.” Wakefield appeared around the corner of the house, his eyes wide. He rushed to her and grabbed her shoulders. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I—I am fine. What is going on?”

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Wakefield still held her shoulders, and he surveyed her entire frame as if he didn’t believe her.

  “Of course I
’m all right.” She seized his wrists. “Wakefield, what is going on? Please—”

  “I came home to check on you, and you weren’t here.”

  “You… oh…” Shame, disappointment, and all their kin rushed through Thea. “Why did you come home?”