The Final Baker Bride

by Kathleen Y'Barbo

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Exactly my point,” she said. “So either ride or explain your cryptic statement.”

  Rit laughed. “I choose ride. Come on. I’ll show you another of my favorite places on the ranch.”

  Off he went. Tavia easily kept up with him, and after a while she forgot anything but the feel of the horse beneath her and the wind in her hair. He led her across the plain and over a stream shallow enough to walk the horses through. Over the next rise, she spied some rock outcroppings.

  “What is that?” she called.

  “That’s where we’re going.” They rode to the base of the rocks and then tethered the horses. Rit gave her riding outfit a sweeping glance. “Can you climb in that?”

  “Watch me.”

  She followed him up the rocks until they reached a point some ten feet off the ground. “It seemed much higher when I was a boy.” He gestured toward the entrance to a cave that was undetectable from the ground. “Welcome to my favorite place on Baker Ranch.”

  Tavia gave the open hole a wary look. “You go first.”

  He pressed past her, chuckling. “Wait just a minute and I’ll see if the matches are dry.”

  Apparently they were, for Rit struck one and a golden glow filled the cave. Tavia ventured inside and found the little cave was actually only a few feet deep. Primitive drawings decorated the walls.

  “Indians?” she asked as she traced the figure of a buffalo hunter.

  “Bakers,” Rit responded. “My brothers and I used to love to pretend.” He nodded toward the wall. “That was part of our games. One of us would draw on the wall and the others would try and guess what it said.”

  “I see.” She pointed. “What does that one say?”

  Rit moved closer and held up the match. In the process, he brushed her shoulder and then offered a smile. “That says someday I’ll marry a woman who cannot type.”

  “It does not.” She gave him a playful swat. “What does it really say?”

  “It’s us,” Rit said. “The Baker brothers. See, that’s me. The tall one. And the little guy, that’s Asa. And Charles, he’s the one over there.”

  “Interesting. Why was Charles over there?”

  Rit laughed. “Oh, he was probably mad about something that day. He always did accuse Asa and me of conspiring against him.”

  “And you still are.”

  He failed to hide his surprise. “How do you know that?”

  She shrugged. “Because I couldn’t help but notice that the man you’re meeting with here is a railroad man. Bud Smith, right?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t met him yet.”

  “Well the staff has, and I heard the maids talking about him. If he’s who I think he is, he doesn’t want Baker Shipping. Baker Ranch, probably, but not Baker Shipping.”

  Rit tossed the match aside and the back of the cave plunged into darkness. “The ranch will never be for sale.”

  “Of course.”

  She moved toward the sunshine with Rit behind her. When she emerged onto the ledge, she stopped to admire the view.

  “So,” she said when Rit joined her, “you and Asa are inseparable, yet Asa isn’t here.” Tavia paused to consider a moment. “My best guess is you’re here to keep Charles away from the office in New Orleans. There is a buyer for the company, and you and Asa have decided to let the others believe it’s Mr. Smith But the real buyer is probably arranging the deal with Asa and Miss O’Shea right now.”

  Rit shook his head. “I knew I should have picked a woman who wasn’t as smart as you to deflect the bride brigade.”

  “I chose you, remember?”

  “When you thought I drove a taxicab.”

  She smiled again. “And don’t you forget it, mister. Now, shall we see if I can get down from here without falling on my head?”

  “I’ll help you.”

  “Thank you,” she said as she shrugged away his offer of assistance. “I’ll do it myself.”

  “Of course you will.” And she did. When she’d climbed into the saddle once more, Tavia posed a final question regarding the family business. “What I’m not clear on is your mother’s role in all of this. Is she in on the ruse and playing along, or doesn’t she realize you and Asa are pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes?”

  “That, Miss Derby, is the question of the day.” He grasped the reins. “I have no idea what the answer is. Now let’s ride.”

  Tavia followed Rit back along the prairie and across the stream, this time at a slower pace. Too soon, he turned his horse toward the ranch. Tavia followed though she longed to continue her ride.

  He paused beneath a stand of pine trees and reached for his bandana to swipe at his forehead. “I’m loyal to family, Tavia,” he said. “My father loved this ranch, but he loved Baker Shipping, too. I’m only spending my days in that office building until I know I can hand it over to someone whom my father would approve of.”

  “And do you have that someone in mind?”

  “I think so,” he said. “And I’m hoping it will happen sooner rather than later.”

  She nodded toward the ranch house in the distance. “Is that what the meetings are about?”

  “In a roundabout way, yes.” He shrugged. “I can’t say any more than that.”

  Tavia reached over to give him a playful hug. “You don’t have to. Just go on back and have your meetings. I plan to take advantage of the afternoon to continue my ride.”

  “Do you think that’s safe?” He nodded toward the distance. “I don’t like the look of those clouds.”

  “You sound like the stable boy. I’ll be fine. Now go.”

  “Promise me you won’t take any foolish chances.”

  “I already have,” she said lightly. “I’m here, aren’t I? And apparently engaged to you.”

  His brows rose.

  “Well, at least your mother thinks so. I tried to explain. She wouldn’t listen.”

  Again he laughed. “Imagine that. I have two stubborn women in my life.”

  “I am not stubborn,” she said as she gathered up the reins. “I just know what I want and how to make it happen. And occasionally I just might feel the need to educate others.”

  “Stubborn!”

  She dug in and the horse bolted off. “So are you!” she called. “But I don’t mind!”

  ~

  Rit watched Tavia ride away, and a little part of his heart went with her. It was sappy, how he felt when he was around her. Ridiculous that he couldn’t get her off his mind. He’d been fooled by the same game he’d used to fool everyone else.

  He really was smitten.

  No, he decided. He was in love. Exasperated at her stubbornness and enthralled with her amazing combination of brains and beauty, but unmistakably in love.

  If only she felt the same.

  “Are you coming?” Charles called.

  Reluctantly, he turned his attention away from Tavia’s retreating figure and followed Charles into Father’s library where the others were already waiting. He recognized all the faces but one, and Charles hurried to remedy that.

  “Pleased to meet you,” he said to the railroad man who was indeed Bud Smith. “I look forward to hearing what you’ve got to say.”

  So Bud started talking. And kept at it for over an hour. Then another hour passed, and Bud had commenced to debating Charles and entertaining Mother. Rit had almost fallen asleep in his father’s favorite chair, the rain now drizzling outside, when the butler knocked on the door and delivered Mother a note.

  She unfolded the paper and read it then cut her eyes toward Rit. “This is for you,” she said. “As to the rest of you, I say this meeting is adjourned and I will see you at dinner. All this talking has exhausted me.”

  She rose and walked over to hand the note to Rit. “Go see to your woman,” she said just loud enough for him alone to hear. “I like her.”

  Rit unfolded the paper. The horse has returned without
Miss Derby.

  Two seconds later, he was out the door and heading for the stable.

  Chapter 7

  Raindrops doused Rit as he stepped outside the stables, leading his bay. Of all the horses in his stable, this one was the least skittish and the most adept at traveling wet ground at a trot. Tavia’s horse had come back uninjured. That told him either she’d fallen off or she’d decided to take cover from the weather and the horse had bolted.

  From what he’d seen of her ability to ride this afternoon, the latter was much more likely than the former. Unless the downpour had caught her on the wrong side of the ranch, there was one place a smart girl like Tavia would be sheltering from this weather. For that reason, he brought his saddlebags with the blanket and emergency rations inside.

  He set the bay off in the direction of the cave, the rain pelting him as the horse fairly flew over the familiar ground. When he reached the stream, he pulled back on the reins. The tame creek of this afternoon had swollen to twice its size. A sane man wouldn’t cross it on horseback.

  But Tavia was on the other side of that creek.

  Rit scratched the bay behind the ear. “All right,” he said gently. “Do what you do, girl. I need to get to my woman.”

  His woman. That felt good, so he said it again.

  The bay dodged forward, plowing through the water without so much as slowing down. “You’ll be getting two sugar cubes tonight,” Rit said as he whooped and laughed on the opposite embankment.

  On he rode until the rock outcroppings showed on the horizon. He looked for the cave and found it, but the golden glow that showed Tavia was there did not appear. Instead, the cave was black as night.

  He considered bypassing the rocks and turning toward the stand of pines to the east but decided against it. With the rain coming down like this, surely she would find her way here.

  The wind picked up, sending Rit surging forward the last few yards until he’d reached the rocks. Tethering the horse beneath an outcropping where it was out of the weather, he tossed his saddlebag over his shoulder and moved back around to begin his climb up the rocks.

  Midway up, he spied a piece of torn fabric dotted with what appeared to be blood tucked under the rocks. “Tavia,” he shouted over the rain. “Where are you?”

  “Up here.”

  Rit scurried up the rocks as best he could, heedless of his own safety, until he reached the ledge and spied Tavia sitting just inside the opening of the cave. He hurried to her and tossed the saddlebag aside to gather her into his arms. “You’re bleeding.”

  “It’s just a scratch,” she said as she offered her arm for his inspection. “I was trying to get up the rocks quickly, and I slipped. I’m fine, but my riding outfit is ruined.”

  “The outfit can be replaced,” he said as he inspected her arm. “But you cannot.” He pulled out his knife and a length of toweling and cut a bandage then tied it in place. “You’ll be fine, I think, but we aren’t going anywhere until the weather improves.”

  For once, Tavia did not argue with him. Instead, she allowed him to wrap her in his blanket and then hold her in his arms. “Are you cold?”

  She smiled. “Not anymore.”

  “All right, then,” he said as he gathered her closer. “Tavia, when I saw that blood and that torn fabric, I thought. . .” He paused.

  “I’m fine, Rit.” She swiveled around in his arms. “Really, I am. A little damp, maybe, and a little clumsy, but fine. How’s the horse?”

  “The horse is back home in the stable, likely having his fill of hay and getting a nice rubdown.”

  “Good,” she said as she settled back against his shoulder. “I was worried.”

  “Yes, you would be,” he said. “Seeing as you’re an expert horsewoman and all.”

  She gave him a look. “I am.”

  Rit patted her arm. “I know. I was teasing. What happened?”

  “There was a snake on the trail. The horse spooked.” She let out a long sigh. “I’m very glad you found me,” she said. “I couldn’t get the matches to light.”

  He looked down at the drenched female, her hair now hanging in loose curls around her shoulders and her riding outfit streaked with mud and soaked by the rain. Tiny freckles he hadn’t noticed until now dotted her nose and belied her proper upbringing. She was a damp mess, and she was the most beautiful thing he’d laid eyes on in quite some time.

  She smiled, and the sight took his breath away. In that moment, the heart he’d been guarding for far too long slipped from his possession and became hers. And it didn’t hurt a bit.

  What he’d do about this remained to be seen.

  “Something wrong?” she asked.

  “Something’s right, actually,” he said. “Being here with you can get a man thinking that he’d like to spend a whole lot more time in your company.”

  “Is that so?” He could tell by her teasing tone that she wasn’t taking him seriously.

  “Yes, Tavia, that is so,” he said in what he hoped she would consider a more serious tone. “I know you and I have been playing a game to fool the bride brigade, but somewhere along the way, I went and fell in—”

  “Actually, if you don’t mind I would like to talk about something else. I could use your advice,” Tavia said.

  He tried not to show his disappointment. Here he’d been about to tell her he loved her, and she went and interrupted him. “All right,” he said slowly. “Go ahead.”

  “I wrote a letter to my parents asking them to forgive me, but I think that wasn’t enough. I feel so guilty here enjoying myself when I know they’re worrying about me.” She paused to worry with the trim on her sleeve and then swung her gaze to meet Rit’s. “I think I ought to go home.”

  He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Home? When?”

  “As soon as possible,” she said. “Tomorrow, if I can.”

  “Tomorrow? No, that’s not possible. See, there isn’t a train headed toward Denver until…” He paused as if he were calculating the railroad schedule. “Next month, probably.”

  “Next month!”

  “Well, all right, maybe sooner,” he conceded. “ Could be as soon as day after tomorrow.”

  He knew good and well that he could put her on the train at noon tomorrow. What he didn’t know was why he was babbling like a schoolboy.

  “Good. Then it’s decided.” She moved toward the edge of the cave and Rit followed her.

  “Right, it’s decided,” he said with much more authority. “And if you go, I’m going with you.”

  She paused to place her hand atop his, and the relief on her pretty face was almost worth the idea of helping her. “You’re a good friend, Rit Baker. Thank you.”

  A good friend.

  Rit met her gaze. “Is that all I am to you? Because at some point in our charade, I stopped pretending, and I think you have, too.”

  Tavia’s eyes widened and then she looked away. “We should go.”

  So she was as afraid as he was. “Tavia,” he said gently as he reached up to trace the line of her jaw. “I’ve run from any entanglements with a woman for so long that it scares me to think I don’t want to run anymore. Is it possible you feel the same way?”

  “I don’t run.” She shrugged out of his reach. “Now we really should go.”

  “And yet that’s exactly how you and I met, isn’t it? You were running away.” He watched her head for the cliff. “Just like you’re doing now.”

  “I’m doing no such thing,” she stated in a voice that was anything but firm. “I’m proving to my father that I can take care of myself.”

  Rit stood right where he was just long enough to decide the stubborn woman would try and climb down without him if he attempted to argue. She’d go to Denver and he’d go with her. They’d have plenty of time to argue this point later.

  “Stay right where you are. If you fall, my mother will have my head.”

  “I can do this, Rit.”

  He moved between her and the rock. “We
can do it better together, Tavia. Let me help you, and I promise I won’t bring up how you’re running away from me now until we get to Denver.”

  Tavia looked ready to argue and then she shook her head. “Fine, but I’m not agreeing that you’re right.”

  “Of course you aren’t,” he said with a laugh. “That would be far too easy.”

  She allowed him to help her down the rocks. He rode back to the ranch house in silence with Tavia tucked in front of him. When the bell rang out announcing their return, half the household, including Mother, poured out to greet them.

  Mother wrapped one arm around Tavia. “Rit, you go get yourself cleaned up. I’ll see that Tavia is taken care of.”

  And then they were gone. Mother and Tavia strolling away like old friends and the servants scattering in all directions. Rit handed the bay over to the stable boy with instructions to provide an extra lump of sugar.

  Overhead, the first evening stars shown between breaks in the clouds, echoing his mood. The man who’d fought the bride brigade was about to fight to gain a bride.

  True to his word, Rit didn’t mention a thing about their conversation in the cave, although he thought about it plenty. It sat between them on the train to Denver, a presence bigger than the grumpy maid Mother had sent to accompany Tavia and keep her from suffering any dents to her reputation.

  Three days after he’d nearly declared his love for Miss Octavia Derby, Rit helped her out of a carriage in front of a home that rivaled his own. Before Tavia’s feet hit the ground, a well-dressed woman who bore a strong resemblance to her came flying out the front door.

  “You’re home!” this woman, presumably Tavia’s mama, cried. It took several minutes of fussing and hugging before she noticed Rit standing there. “And who is this?”

  Rit introduced himself and allowed the women to lead him inside. There he met the formidable Mr. Derby face-to-face. Tavia’s father was tall, almost as tall as he, with less gray than having a daughter like Tavia should have caused. His tanned skin and muscled build spoke of a life at least partially lived outdoors and likely on horseback, while his clothing told another tale entirely.