“I was.”
“So why didn’t you go back to Washington after your sister was restored to health?”
Emily shrugged. “I’m not sure why. For some reason, it never seemed right to go back. I guess I missed living in Idaho more than I realized.”
“Perhaps there’s a young man in Boise?” Dru smiled at her. “Someone you hope to marry one day?”
“No, there’s no one.”
Dru lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t want a family of your own?”
“Someday, perhaps. But not yet.”
“Then I guess it is safe to assume that you’ve never been in love.”
She thought about Maggie and Tucker, of the way they seemed to be two parts of one whole. She thought of their tender glances, of the way they touched each other — a brief brushing of hair from the other’s forehead, a light caress of the cheek — of the smiles they exchanged that said they shared a secret, of the sweet words of endearment they whispered.
She also thought of Fiona and her husband, James. Still in the first blush of newlywed joy, Fiona thought the sun rose and set with James Whittier. Fiona’s face almost glowed when she spoke of her husband, and James was solicitous whenever he was with his wife, even more so now that she was expecting their child.
No, Emily had never been in love, but from these examples and others, she had a good idea what it would look, sound, and feel like when it happened.
“Am I right, Miss Harris?”
“Yes, you’re right.”
Dru leaned back on the makeshift bed and closed her eyes. “Someday you’ll meet the right man, and love will take you by surprise . . . as it so often does.”
On the first evening they were on the trail, after they’d eaten their supper and the women retired for the night, Gavin sat beside the dying embers of the campfire, a worn piece of harness in his hands. He would have to repair it before long. If the cattle prices were good come spring, maybe —
“Mr. Blake?”
He glanced up, surprised that he hadn’t heard Emily’s approach.
“May I speak with you a moment?”
He motioned to the stool on the opposite side of the fire. As she settled onto it, he couldn’t help noticing that she looked lovely, despite the long, dusty day. Such a contrast to Dru’s wan appearance when she’d retired.
“Is there some reason you disapprove of me?” she asked, her gaze lifting to meet his.
“Dru chose you, Miss Harris. That’s good enough for me.”
”That isn’t an answer.”
He supposed she deserved the truth. “I don’t think you’re cut out for the place we’re going.”
“Why is that?”
“You’re not headed for another city like Washington, D.C., or even one like Boise. Our nearest neighbors in the basin are more than likely a small band of Sheepeater Indians or some of their kin. There won’t be any tea parties to be shared with other womenfolk or dances to go to on Saturday nights, all decked out in a pretty dress. Winters are hard and long.” He lowered his gaze to the harness in his hands, then set it on the ground beside his feet. “I built the cabin at our summer range with my own two hands, and the house at the main ranch isn’t much different from it. There’s no money for luxuries, that’s for certain.”
“I can do this job, Mr. Blake, and I don’t need luxuries.”
He leaned forward and took hold of her right hand, turning it palm up. “Look at your hand. You haven’t done a real day’s work in your life. You may have been raised on a ranch, but it’s a gentleman’s ranch. That brother-in-law of yours hires all the help he needs to run it. Right? You’ve never had to — ”
She pulled away from him. “That’s not so. My family worked hard for everything we have. Like you, Tucker built our first house himself. I remember what it was like when we left the wagon train and settled in Boise. We worked from sun up to sun down. In some ways, it was even harder than being on the trail.” She stood. “Maybe Tucker does have others managing his ranch now, but he’s earned it. And maybe because of his success I haven’t faced much hardship, but I can do everything I was hired to do. I can take care of your wife and daughters.”
”I guess we’ll soon find out, won’t we?”
“Yes, I guess we will.” She turned away. “Goodnight, Mr. Blake.”
“Goodnight, Miss Harris.”
When she was gone, Gavin returned his gaze to the dying embers. She wouldn’t last. She would wilt like a rose without water. Just see if she didn’t.
The days on the trail were long and exhausting. Yet Emily felt a growing sense of adventure as Dru shared more about their summer range in the Stanley Basin. Still, despite the other woman’s glowing reports about the place she loved, Emily wasn’t prepared for the breathtaking panorama that met her gaze late in the afternoon a week after they left Boise.
In the valley, a carpet of green grasses waved like the sea while late summer wildflowers bobbed their colorful heads. Sage and pine scented the breeze. Winding its way across the valley floor flowed a ribbon of water, and beyond it pine trees climbed the mountainsides as far as possible, then admitted defeat before reaching the rocky peaks of the Sawtooths.
“Is that snow?” she asked, eyeing the splotches of white on the high crags.
“Glaciers,” Gavin replied. “They’re there year-round.”
“Can we see your house from here?”
Dru shook her head. “Not yet. The basin’s northwest of here. We’ll be there tomorrow.”
Gavin hopped from the wagon seat and walked across the narrow dirt road. His brows drew together as his gaze swept the nearby wooded area. Moments later, he returned to the wagon and pulled a long, heavy-looking chain from beneath the seat.
Emily watched as he carried the chain over to a fallen tree, dropped it on the ground, rolled up his sleeves, then bent over to slip the heavy links beneath the log. His muscles bulged as he leaned forward, pulling on the chain.
“What is he doing?” she asked Dru.
“It’s to help check our speed. Gavin fastens one end of the chain around a large log and the other to the undercarriage. The log helps create drag on the steep grade so the wagon won’t get away from the horses.”
Twenty minutes later, they started down the mountainside. Behind them, the dead tree carved a groove in the earth. It soon became apparent to Emily why Gavin had taken this precaution. Even with it, the horses leaned back over their hind legs, straining against the weight of the wagon pushing against them. The narrow track — too primitive to be called a road — wound back and forth across the side of the mountain but still the descent seemed too swift. The drop to the valley floor was frightening. What if the animals bolted? They would all plunge to their deaths.
“Easy there,” Gavin murmured to the horses. “Easy now.”
Emily looked up at him from her spot in the wagon bed. He was leaning back on the seat, his boots braced against the footboard, the reins woven through his fingers. Sweat stained the back of his shirt along his spine.
“That’s it. Easy now. Take it slow. That’s it.”
His words might have been meant to calm only the horses, but they served to calm Emily as well. It surprised her to find that, despite his obnoxious attitude toward her, he made her feel safe.
Four
Patches of brown and white dotted the landscape across a wide sweep of meadowland where cattle grazed along the banks of the river, the lush grasses tickling their bellies.
“We’re home,” Dru whispered.
Emily rose to her knees and leaned over the side to see what was ahead. As she did so, she saw a horse and rider break away from the cattle and canter toward them. Gavin drew back on the reins, stopping the team, and waited for the cowboy to arrive.
“It’s good to see you folks. Your girls ain’t stopped asking when you’d be back since the day you left.”
“There’s nothing wrong, is there, Stubs?” Dru’s voice was anxious.
The cowboy’s gri
zzled face broke into a grin. “No, ma’am. Nothin’ that their ma being home won’t cure.”
“Where are they now?”
“Jess and Brina are whipping up some grub for supper. I imagine Pet’s trying to help. Better get up there so they can throw in a bit more.” Stubs removed his hat and drew his arm across his forehead, glancing toward Emily as he did so. “Got your teacher, I see.”
Gavin looked over his shoulder. “Miss Harris, this is Stubs Martin. He’s the foreman for the Lucky Strike Ranch.”
“How do you do, Mr. Martin.” Emily stood, her hand on the back of the wagon seat for balance. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Well, doggies, if you ain’t a pretty little thing. You just call me Stubs and we’ll get on fine.” He winked at her. “Yes, sir. She’s a right pretty little thing.”
Emily felt the warm blush spreading up from her neck. She’d received fancier compliments in her life, but this one, coming in front of her employer, seemed too much by half. The last thing she wanted was for Gavin Blake to think she was just a pretty face and nothing more. He already expected her to fail.
“You’d better sit down, Miss Harris.” Gavin slapped the reins against the horses’ rumps, and the wagon jerked forward, nearly toppling Emily.
He’d done it on purpose. The rude, ill-mannered man.
Stubs fell in beside them. “We got all the cattle in. Lost only a handful over the summer. A couple to wolves, looked like, the rest more’n likely to Indians. They should bring a good price, fat as they are. How soon’ll you be ready to drive ’em out? It’s getting a mite late in the season. First snows could fall any time now.”
“Dru wants to stay in the basin for a few more weeks, but you’d better start the drive tomorrow or the next day. The buyers will be expecting us.”
“You think you oughta — ” Stubs began.
Two shrill cries interrupted his question. “Ma! Ma!”
Once again, Emily got to her knees and leaned over for a better view, and once again, Gavin stopped the wagon.
“Ma!”
Dark brown hair streamed out behind the girls as they ran. The older one was tall and slender. The younger was plump and rosy. Both wore big grins.
Gavin hopped down from the wagon seat, then lifted his wife to the ground. Dru turned just in time to receive the two girls into her arms.
“Ma, you’re back! You were gone so long.”
“I know, Brina. It seemed like forever to me too.”
Sabrina had her mother’s hazel eyes as well as the same long, narrow face. Her complexion was fair except for the spattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her dress barely covered her knees. She would soon be grown clear out of it.
“Ma.” Petula tugged on her mother’s sleeve. “Look.” She opened her mouth, pointing into it.
The younger girl’s eyes were a dark chocolate brown and were capped by chestnut brows. Her complexion was dark, her mouth wide and full. Emily saw little resemblance to either Gavin or Dru in the child.
“My goodness, Pet. Where did your tooth go?” Her mother feigned amazement.
“It came loose when I was ridin’ this morning.” The girl’s eyes widened. “I swallowed it.”
“Well then, you probably won’t be hungry for supper, will you?” Gavin swooped Petula into his arms.
The girl promptly threw her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Will too. Mr. Chamberlain’s fixing pie for dessert, and I helped.”
With his other arm, Gavin lifted Sabrina against his side. “What about you? Stubs tells me you’re doing the cooking.”
Sabrina mimicked her sister’s actions by hugging his neck and kissing his cheek. As she pulled back, she nodded. “I made the stew.”
What an amazing smile he gave the children. Emily would have sworn he was incapable of such a joyous expression. She certainly hadn’t seen its like from him before. Although he’d been tender and solicitous with his wife throughout the journey home, the most frequent look on his face had been frowns and scowls. She’d come to think him a dour sort.
He must love them very much.
Dru touched Emily’s hand on the side of the wagon. “Come meet my daughters.”
“Yes, of course.” She jumped to the ground. Oh, please let them like me, she prayed.
“Brina . . . Pet . . .” Dru waited while Gavin set the girls on their feet. “Come say hello to Miss Harris.”
Holding hands, they came forward to stand next to their mother. Two sets of eyes stared up at Emily, curious and skeptical at the same time.
Her throat felt dry. “Hello, Sabrina. Hello, Petula.”
They didn’t say a word.
“I’m glad to meet you at last. Your mother’s told me so much about you.”
Still no response.
Emily swallowed hard. Her stomach churned. If the children took a dislike to her as quickly as their father had, she wouldn’t stand a chance.
Petula turned and tugged on her mother’s skirt, then motioned for Dru to lean closer. “I like her hair,” she whispered. “Don’t you, Ma?”
“Yes, Pet, I do.”
The baying of hounds interrupted the introductions. Emily turned to see three huge brown and gray dogs barreling toward them. The first two slid to a halt at Gavin’s feet. The third didn’t stop until he’d risen on hind legs and thrust muddy paws against Emily’s shoulders.
Thrown off balance, she flailed the air with her arms. But it was a lost cause — the dog gave her another push and she dropped like a rock onto her backside, hitting the ground with a hard thump. Before she could close her mouth, the dog’s long tongue smacked her across the face. She sputtered, closing her eyes and raising her arm to ward off the beast, hoping all the while he wouldn’t decide she was tasty enough for a bite.
She heard the children’s laughter.
“Get back, Joker,” Gavin said. “That’s no way to greet a lady.”
Emily opened her eyes as he dragged the overzealous wolfhound away by the scruff of his neck. Obviously Gavin Blake didn’t share his daughters’ amusement. His gaze was hard and unflinching as he offered his hand.
She accepted reluctantly. “He’s your dog, no doubt.”
“Joker’s still a pup.” He pulled her to her feet. “He hasn’t learned any manners yet.”
“A pup?” She turned to stare at the dog — large square head, thick wiry coat, muddy paws. “He’s almost as big as a horse.” She brushed at the dirty prints on her bodice.
“Duke. Duchess. Come.” In response to Gavin’s quiet command, the other two dogs sprang to their feet and trotted over. Without a word from their master, they sat next to him. “Miss Harris, meet Joker’s parents, Duke and Duchess.”
The larger of the two dogs lifted his right paw. Large black eyes perused her. She almost believed the canine understood what his master had said.
“He’s pleased to meet you, Miss Harris.” Gavin motioned toward Duke. “Go on. Shake his hand.”
Was he hoping to humiliate her further? Couldn’t he see she was already wearing enough mud? She was about to refuse, but then she saw Sabrina and Petula watching her, waiting to see what she would do. This was a test she didn’t want to fail.
Tugging on her bodice, she straightened her dress, then bent forward and took hold of Duke’s paw. “How do you do, your grace.” She moved the dog’s leg up and down three times, then let go as her gaze moved to the female wolfhound. She held her skirts and executed a perfect curtsey. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Duchess.” Her voice dropped to a stage whisper. “But, my lady, that son of yours is a disgrace. You must take him in hand at once or there’ll be no redeeming him. He’ll prove himself a fool at court.”
The girls burst into laughter once again and hurried forward to throw their arms around the dogs. Joker pushed his way into the happy group, his tongue lapping everyone in reach. A warm thrill surged through Emily as she watched them. The girls were going to like her, even if their father did
n’t.
Her gaze met Gavin’s as she straightened. Was that grudging approval she saw in his eyes? She hoped so. She was determined to change his opinion of her before she returned to Boise in the spring. She would make him admit that she was well suited for the work he’d hired her to do. So help her she would, even if it killed her.
“Come along, girls,” Dru said. “Let’s show Miss Harris to her room.”
Petula came to stand beside Emily, without a word slipping her small, sweaty hand into Emily’s and pulling her toward the house.
Emily Harris had spunk. Gavin had to give her that. She could have burst into tears or railed at the dog for ruining her dress. Instead, she’d been a good sport and had even played along when he introduced her to the dogs. Maybe it wouldn’t be so awful having her here. Maybe she wouldn’t wilt as fast as he’d thought. Maybe she wasn’t completely spoiled and self-centered.
“Something botherin’ you, Gavin?”
He didn’t look at Stubs as he shook his head.
“Is it Dru? Is she feeling bad again?”
“No. You wouldn’t even know she’s sick except she doesn’t eat enough to keep a bird alive.”
“She seems to like Miss Harris, and Miss Harris seems taken with the girls. That’s what Dru was wantin’.”
Gavin didn’t reply.
“Mighty pretty to look at too. Matter of fact, she kinda reminds me of your — ”
“Don’t.” Gavin glared a warning at his foreman.
Stubs Martin had worked as a hired hand on the Blake farm back in Ohio when Gavin was a boy. Fate had brought them together again years later, and they’d been good friends ever since. But every friendship had boundaries, and Stubs had just about crossed the line.
“Sorry, boss. I won’t mention it again.”
With a grunt, Gavin climbed into the wagon and drove the team toward the barn.
Five
Emily pressed her face against the pillow and tried to recapture her dream. She was at a masked ball. Couples in dazzling costumes twirled around a mirrored ballroom, the women’s gowns sweeping out in wide arcs in time to the music. She danced in the arms of a tall stranger, his face hidden behind a black mask. Eyes like steel stared at her through narrow slits. He held her close, so close his breath seemed to be hers.
Robin Lee Hatcher Page 3
