“A good Irish name if ever I heard one.” Patrick nodded at Tucker, then offered his hand to Maggie to help her out of the sleigh. “Emily didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“She didn’t know. We surprised her yesterday afternoon.”
While a servant took care of the horses and sleigh, Patrick ushered his guests into the house. They were soon joined by the rest of the O’Donnell brothers and Shane’s wife. More introductions followed. More idle pleasantries. Coffee was served along with pastries. And all the while, Emily’s insides were twisting into intricate knots.
“Have the two of you settled on a date for the wedding?” Maggie asked.
Patrick reached for Emily’s hand. “Sure and I haven’t been able to get an answer from her on that yet.” He squeezed her fingers, giving her a smile. “But the wedding will be just as soon as possible, I will tell you that.”
Emily felt the blood drain from her head. Her lips numbed and the skin on her face prickled. She leaned toward Patrick. “May I speak with you privately?” Her gaze shifted to Maggie. “You’ll excuse us, won’t you?”
Her sister inclined her head. “Of course.” But her eyes were filled with concern.
Emily stood and led the way out of the sitting room. She had no particular destination in mind, but soon found herself in the solarium, looking out the windows as she’d done the first time she came here, Gavin by her side.
“Emily? What is it, love?”
She turned to face him. “I’m sorry, Patrick. I shouldn’t have brought Maggie and Tucker with me.”
“But why ever not, love? It’s natural they’d want to meet me.”
“Oh, Patrick.” Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. “I should have come to see you alone. You deserve better than what I’ve given. But I can’t . . . I was wrong to ever — ”
Understanding dawned in his eyes. “So that’s the way of it.”
She lowered her gaze to her left hand. “I was wrong to have accepted your proposal, Patrick.” She removed the engagement ring he’d given her, the one she’d started wearing — at Patrick’s insistence — once the children knew her plans to marry him. “But I thought . . .” She held the ring toward him. “I thought — ”
“You thought you could learn to love me.”
She nodded, and now there was no holding back the tears. They dropped from her cheeks and made tiny splashes upon the tile floor.
“Don’t cry, love. I knew I was reaching beyond my grasp when I asked for your hand.”
“That’s not true, Patrick.”
He took her in his arms, and she let him. He patted her head and her back, as if soothing a child. “I’m thinking maybe I was too late to win your heart. I’m thinking it may have already belonged to another.”
He knows. He knows I love Gavin.
Gavin looked at the trunk that he’d set on the floor inside the boarding house door. Everything Emily had brought with her from Boise was now in that trunk, although not packed as neatly as when she came.
“You’ll see that Miss Harris gets this,” he said as he handed an envelope to Mary Smith, the boarding house proprietress.
“I’ll see to it, Mr. Blake.” Her eyes were filled with curiosity but somehow she refrained from asking what she shouldn’t.
Gavin was thankful for that.
He turned and left the boarding house. If he was a drinking man, he would have stopped in the saloon for a bracing shot of whiskey before the journey back to the ranch. As he wasn’t, he settled for turning his coat collar up and tugging his hat lower on his head before setting out toward home.
He should have sent Emily packing long ago. He should have released her from her pledge the instant he’d learned of her engagement. What had Dru been thinking when she hired Emily anyway? If not for Dru’s romantic notions of marriage and family, if not for Emily’s presence in his home, he wouldn’t have begun to want things he’d never wanted before.
Most of all, he’d wanted her.
He’d wanted to call her Emily instead of Miss Harris. He’d wanted to see her pale, silky hair freed from the hairpins and falling down her back. He’d wanted her to step willingly in his arms. He’d wanted to drink deeply of her kisses. He’d wanted to see her beautiful face the first thing every morning and the last thing every night.
He’d wanted her.
But he’d set her free, as he should have done weeks ago.
Emily cried all the way from Killarney Hall to Challis, cradled in the arms of her sister. She was so ashamed of herself for hurting Patrick the way she had. She’d used him abominably. He deserved so much better, yet he hadn’t condemned her as he had every right to do.
But even as she wept, there was a corner of her heart that felt a little lighter, a little relieved, a little hopeful. Hopeful that another man might look at her a bit differently, once he knew she wasn’t engaged.
Her hope died when she and Maggie entered the boarding house, and she saw her trunk on the floor of the entry.
“Mr. Blake brought it by a short while ago. Said you would want it.” Mary Smith stepped from behind the counter, holding an envelope toward Emily. “He asked me to give you this.”
Emily seemed unable to lift her arm to take the envelope from the woman. She couldn’t move, could scarcely breathe. Maggie didn’t suffer from the same paralysis. She accepted the envelope on Emily’s behalf before taking hold of her younger sister’s arm and steering her toward the staircase.
When they reached Emily’s room, Maggie asked, “Do you want me to leave you alone while you read it?”
“No. Please stay.”
Maggie took a seat on the chair near the window while Emily sat on the edge of the bed and opened the envelope.
Miss Harris,
It is best for everyone concerned that I free you from the promise you made to Dru. You should not be expected to delay your wedding until spring just because my wife asked you to remain in our employ until then.
I have taken the liberty of packing your belongings in your trunk so that you need not return to the Lucky Strike.
Brina, Pet, and I wish you much happiness in your marriage to Patrick O’Donnell, and we will no doubt see you both on occasion.
Gavin Blake
The realization hit like a hammer on her soul. He truly didn’t want her. He had packed her trunk and sent her away, not even allowing her to say good-bye. Not to him. Not to the children.
Fighting for breath, Emily crumpled the paper in her hand.
She had grown to love Sabrina and Petula. Did he hate her that much that he couldn’t even let her tell them good-bye?
“Emily?”
“I want to go home, Maggie,” she said softly. “I want to go home with you and Tucker. Just as soon as we can leave.”
“Of course. I’ll ask Tucker to make the arrangements.”
Twenty-Nine
They set out in the sleigh, Gavin and the girls, well before noon the next day. In no time at all, their exposed skin had turned red from the cold. Their breath made frosty clouds in front of their faces.
“What’ll I do while you and Brina skate?” Petula asked. “I could’ve stayed home if Miss Harris was there. Why hasn’t she come back? I thought she was only gonna be in town one night. Didn’t she say just one night?”
Maybe Gavin’s plan to give the girls an enjoyable afternoon skating on the pond before he told them Emily was gone for good hadn’t been the best idea.
“When’s she coming back, Pa?” Petula persisted. “I don’t like it when she’s gone.”
He pulled back on the reins, then twisted to look at his daughters on the seat next to him. “Miss Harris isn’t coming back.”
“Not coming back?” Sabrina’s eyes grew wide. “But she — ”
“You know that she’s planning to marry Mr. O’Donnell. She couldn’t stay with us for good. It was better that she go now.”
“But Pa — ”
“We’ll get
along fine, the three of us. You’ll see. I’m not a bad cook and we can work together on the other chores that need done. And there’s no reason I can’t help you with your schoolwork this winter. There’s even talk that Challis will have a school come next fall. Won’t that be great?”
Petula turned her face into her sister’s coat and began to cry.
Gavin felt helpless in the wake of those tears.
Sabrina wiped her nose on her coat sleeve. “Why didn’t Miss Harris come and say good-bye?”
Not only did he feel helpless. He felt selfish. He hadn’t wanted to see Emily again. Seeing her again, once the decision for her to go was made, would have been too hard for him. He hadn’t considered that it would hurt Sabrina and Petula even more not to see her.
“That’s my fault, Brina. I . . . I thought it would be easier if I told you after she was gone. I’m sorry. I guess I was wrong.” He looked out across the snowy landscape. “Do you still want to go skating or would you rather go home?”
Sabrina sniffed. “Let’s go home, Pa.”
Home. The problem with home was, Gavin knew he would see Emily everywhere he looked. In the kitchen preparing a cup of tea or baking a pie. At the table, helping the girls with their schoolwork. Mending the children’s clothes while seated next to the fire in the parlor. Comforting Petula. Laughing with Sabrina. Stroking Joker’s head.
For the first time in his life, Gavin truly understood what life had been like for his father. Understood and pitied him.
The trip from Challis to Boise by stage was rough, cold, slow, miserable. For most of the journey, Emily kept her face turned toward the wall of the coach, her eyes closed. She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to be comforted. She wanted only to be left alone with her heartbreak.
It seemed like years rather than a few months since she’d ridden away from Boise in the back of the Blakes’ wagon, on her way to make a difference in the lives of two little girls she had yet to meet. But it had been her life that had changed most of all. She would never forget Sabrina and Petula — or their father. Not as long as she lived would she forget them.
She scarcely noticed the passing of time. The five-day stage ride passed in a blur. One day seemed the same as another. She disembarked from the coach when told to. She reentered it when told to. At the stage stops, she picked at her meals but never because she was hungry; she ate to please Maggie and for no other reason. She didn’t care to know how many miles they’d traveled or how many miles they had yet to travel. It mattered not at all to her.
Nothing would ever matter to her again.
Although Gavin told himself he’d rather chew nails than go into town for supplies having made the trip with Emily’s trunk less than a week ago, he couldn’t help wondering if she had stayed in Challis or taken up residence at Killarney Hall. For all he knew, she and Patrick were already wed.
It was none of his concern, one way or the other, he reminded himself as he stopped the sleigh in front of the mercantile. None of his concern.
Then he looked up and saw Patrick come out of the boarding house. His stomach sank. He wasn’t ready to see the two of them together, and he hoped she wouldn’t exit right behind her fiancé. She didn’t, to his great relief.
Patrick saw Gavin. Even from this distance, he could see the other man’s frown. Why a frown? Hadn’t Gavin done his friend a favor?
Patrick left the boarding house and headed toward Gavin. When he was still some distance away, he said, “You’re a bloomin’ fool, Gavin Blake.”
Gavin stepped out of the sleigh and onto the boardwalk. He wasn’t in the mood for whatever was coming.
“What’s wrong with you, mate? Have you got no sense at all?”
“I guess you mean Miss Harris.”
Patrick’s eyes narrowed. “What else would I be meaning?”
“I thought you’d be relieved that she isn’t working for me any longer. Now your wedding won’t have to wait until spring.”
“What the devil are you talking about? She broke our engagement.”
Gavin took a step back, as if the bigger man had struck him.
“Are you daft, man?”
“You aren’t getting married?”
Patrick shook his head, a look of disgust replacing the anger of moments before. “She wasn’t apt to marry me when she’s in love with you.”
In love with me? Gavin wiped his hand over his face. Surely he hadn’t heard right.
“I’ve a good mind to knock some sense into you with my fists.”
“What made you think she was in love with me?”
“I guessed it when she broke our engagement. Should have guessed it sooner, but I turned a blind eye to all the signs, hoping she’d marry me anyway. Hoping I was wrong.”
Gavin looked toward the boarding house. “She broke your engagement just now?”
Patrick made a derogatory sound in his throat. “Saints alive, man! She left for Boise days ago. Went by stage with her sister and her husband. I never took you for a fool before this, Gavin, but a fool you are to have let her go.”
He hadn’t let her go. He’d done something much worse.
He’d sent her away.
Petula awakened Gavin in the middle of the night. “My chest hurts, Pa.”
As he sat up, still groggy from sleep, he thought perhaps she meant her heart ached the way his did. Then he touched her and found her skin hot.
“My head hurts too.”
“You’ve got a fever.” He got out of bed and lit the lamp. “Better keep you away from Brina so she doesn’t get sick too. Crawl into my bed while I get you a glass of water.”
She obeyed with a soft moan.
Gavin hurried into the kitchen, returning moments later with the promised drink. He lifted the girl’s head and held her while she took several sips. As soon as she was done, she turned onto her side and curled into a ball. Almost at once, she began to shiver.
Poor little tyke.
He tucked the blankets closer around her.
Joker nudged his thigh.
“Not now, boy.”
The dog nudged him again, then turned and padded out to the parlor. There, he looked back at Gavin and whimpered.
“All right. I’ll let you out.”
But Joker didn’t head for the door. Instead he went into the children’s room.
Gavin followed the dog, worry beginning to nag at him. Sure enough, when he leaned over to straighten the blankets, he found Sabrina burning with fever too. She coughed weakly, then rolled her head on the pillow from side to side.
He wished Emily was there. The children were sick and they needed her. He needed her. But she was gone. Gone because of his stupidity and stubborn pride.
Gavin returned to his bedroom, scooped Petula from the bed, and carried her back to her own room, laying her next to her sister. Then he went to the kitchen to fetch rags and a basin of cold water. He would send Stubs for Dr. Forester at first light, but until then, he had to do what he could to lower their fevers.
If only Emily was with him.
Thirty
As soon as the Branigan family arrived at their Boise home, Emily went to her old room, stripped out of her soiled travel clothes, and crawled under the covers on her bed. She would have cried, but her tears were spent. She was completely dried up on the inside. She hurt everywhere, from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. The ache was so bad all she wanted to do was go to sleep and never wake up. To sleep and forget.
God, please help me forget.
Maggie stood just inside the doorway, waiting while Dr. Weick examined Emily. When he turned toward her at last, the look in his eyes sent a frisson of fear coursing through her.
“Doctor?”
He moved toward her, and when he spoke, it was in a low voice. “Your sister is a very sick young woman, Mrs. Branigan. Keep your children away until the danger of contagion has passed.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“Influenza.”
&
nbsp; Influenza — contagious and often fatal, especially to the young and the elderly. “But she’ll recover all right. Won’t she, doctor?”
“It is difficult to say for certain, Mrs. Branigan. Get her to drink as many fluids as possible. Keep a cool compress on her forehead. Make certain that whoever cares for her washes their hands immediately upon leaving this room.” He turned and picked up his black leather bag. “I’ll return in the morning.”
Maggie didn’t show the doctor out. Instead she stepped closer to the bed.
Emily moaned, then mumbled a word.
Maggie thought it sounded like “Gavin,” but she couldn’t be sure.
Oh, Emily, you must get well. I couldn’t bear to lose you. Stay strong, kitten. Stay strong.
A knock sounded on the door, and Sarah, their housemaid, looked in. “Mrs. Branigan, is there anything I can do to help?”
“Yes, Sarah. Move the children’s things downstairs, away from this room. They can sleep on the floor of the sitting room. I don’t want them coming upstairs as long as their aunt is sick. And Dr. Weick said we must wash our hands upon leaving the sick room. Please remember that.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And could you bring me a basin of water right away?”
“Yes, ma’am. At once.”
“Thank you, Sarah.”
When the maid was gone, Maggie pulled a chair close to the bed, sat on it, then began to fan the air over her sister’s face.
“Gavin . . .” Emily whispered.
“No, darling. It’s me. Maggie. I’m right here beside you. You’re going to be fine. You’re going to get well in no time at all.”
Emily moaned softly and rolled from side to side beneath the covers before quieting again.
“I’ll be right here if you need anything, dearest. Don’t worry. Maggie’s here.”
Robin Lee Hatcher Page 19
