Her Winding Path_Seeing Ranch series_A Historical Romance

by Florence Linnington

  “I’ve been doing just fine,” he lied. “Don’t you worry about me.”

  “What kind of wife would I be if I did not worry about you?”

  He was probably supposed to answer, but he could only smile. She had called herself his “wife” and it sounded really good.

  The song changed, the next one a livelier tune. Tom kept moving as he had before, shuffling along the floor. Ida Rose glanced down at his feet and laughed.

  “You don’t have to point it out,” he playfully grumbled. “I know I can’t dance.”

  “I find it quite endearing, actually.” She smiled back.

  “You’re the only reason I’m out here.”

  Her chest rose with a sharp inhale and her lashes fluttered. Tom found himself wishing they were alone in the hotel. No party-goers. No band. He would sweep her across the floor, dancing to music that wasn’t there.

  And he would never let her go.

  “How did you get this way?” he found himself asking in awe.

  She picked up the pace, encouraging him to do the same. The act was promising. With her help, maybe he would one day learn to dance.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want to know everything about you, from your earliest memory.”

  “Hm. Let me see… I remember going to see horse races with my father. I could not have been more than four or five, for he lifted me onto his shoulders so I could have a better view.” She grinned at the memory. “What about you?”

  “Easy. I was four and I had wandered away from the house. There were these rabbits that had a burrow down near the creek. My pa had shown it to me and I wanted to go back and see the little baby rabbits for myself. So, while Mother was busy cooking one afternoon, I left the house and went right down there. She was furious when she found me down there, laying on my belly and peering into the hole. I must have given her a real fright. I don’t remember her ever being so angry in my whole life.”

  Tom chuckled. A “ruffian,” that’s what his mother had always called him growing up. He would no doubt get what he deserved one day and have his own child who tested him.

  Ida Rose did not join in his laughter. Instead, she somberly looked at the ground. A sick feeling filled Tom.

  “What is wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  There was that forced smile again. He knew her better by now, though, and would not buy it.

  “Something is the matter. Tell me.”

  “Your mother must have been absolutely terrified. She likely thought someone had taken you.”

  “All the way out there?”

  “Yes.”

  He shook his head. “The greatest danger to a little one down by that creek would be falling in the water and getting swept away. No one goes down there, except coyotes and wolves sometimes.”

  “Or bandits.”

  Tom thought about that. They had been having fun. Why was she taking the conversation to such a dark place?

  “There never have been bandits around here. Not until recently. I told you that, didn’t I?”

  She gazed intently at him. “Are you sure about that?”

  “I would know.”

  Yes, he would know. How could he not? If there had been bandit problems in earlier years, someone would have told him.

  “Perhaps they were here and few people saw them… Or those that did neglected to share the story.”

  Tom felt his whole face frown. “Why would they do that? What is this about?”

  Ida Rose sucked in her lower lip. “Nothing… I was just wondering. My mind got carried away.”

  Her cool mask was back, a facade that could hide anything behind it. “It is hot in here. Shall we take a break?”

  Halting the dance right away, he took her hand and guided her across the floor. The engagement ring’s diamond pressed against his fingers, making his chest swell with pride.

  The last day had been harder than he would ever admit to anyone. Luckily, their days apart would be over soon. Once Shallow Springs was safe again, he would make quick work of getting the wedding going. June was not that far away, just a little over a month around the corner. Ida Rose looked beautiful in tonight’s white dress, but she would be even more breath-taking in a wedding gown.

  They stopped on the front porch. Night had taken over and the tin lanterns hanging by the door were fully doing their part now, covering Ida Rose’s arms and face with small dots of light.

  Tucking her arms behind her, she leaned against a pillar. She looked so young, like a schoolgirl at her first dance.

  “What was school like in New York?” Tom asked, folding his arms and standing across from her.

  “It was… different for everyone. My sisters and I were lucky. Our father made sure we went. Not everyone gets the same chance, though. Many children in New York have to work to help their families. Doesn’t your mother ever tell you about life there?”

  “I, uh, don’t ask much.” He cleared his throat and looked away.

  “Oh.”

  They stood silently, the noises of the party slipping out the open door and invading the porch.

  Ida Rose’s voice was small and quiet. “Sometimes, she remembers the past very clearly. Or she seems to, anyway.”

  Tom sighed. “It can be hard to know when she is remembering something that actually happened, or if she is just making it up.”

  He did not want to talk about his mother’s issues. She was inside, having a good time with the other ladies, and Ida Rose was here, alone with him on the porch. Everything was good. There was no need to spoil it all with talk of sad things.

  “Are you certain nothing is wrong?”

  Her eyes darted around the porch. “Everything is fine.”

  Tom sighed, dropping his arms at his sides. “I have to go soon.”

  He hated saying the words—and especially hated the look they caused on Ida Rose’s face. It was fully dark, though, past the time he had meant to stay. Dancing with Ida Rose had made time cease to exist, and now, he was full of anxiety over what could be happening at the farm.

  “I will see you soon. I promise.”

  His words softened her and she smiled up at him. Taking her hand in his, he ran his thumb along her palm. A wave of relaxation flowed through him. Soon, it would be like this every day.

  Bringing her hand up, he planted a slow kiss on the spot right next to her ring. “Go inside. Have fun.”

  “It will be hard to without you here.”

  Every bit of Tom’s body ached to stay with her, but it couldn’t happen. Not that night.

  “Soon,” he promised. “Soon, we’ll have forever together.”

  19

  19. Ida Rose

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ida Rose fought back the urge to bite the side of her thumb as the stagecoach rolled into town.

  With the distraction of the party the night before, she had completely forgotten that the post was due to come in this afternoon. Now that it was here, she could hardly contain her excitement.

  “Do you think you will be receiving a letter?” she asked Gemma, who stood next to her. They had left the suffocating confines of the hotel to walk around town, but the miniature journey had not helped Ida Rose’s restlessness much. She was still in a cage. Only, going outside had made it a bit larger.

  “I doubt it,” Gemma sighed. “My mother writes occasionally, but it has been months since I have heard from her. All of my old friends from the city seem to have moved on as well.”

  “Oh. I am sorry.”

  Gemma squeezed Ida Rose’s arm. “Do not be. My life is here, in Wyoming. I have everything I could possibly need and more.”

  She could not tell if Gemma was telling the truth or not, but her bright smile seemed to suggest she was.

  Ida Rose held herself back for another minute, watching as Mr. Garrison left the hotel and collected the small bundles of letters and packages from the stagecoach driver. There were no travellers this week.

  Ida Ros
e wondered if rumors of criminal activity were keeping them away from Wyoming.

  As soon as Mr. Garrison turned for the hotel, she bounded right up to him. “Mr. Garrison! Do you see anything there for me?”

  “Hm. Let’s see now. Ida Rose… Ida Rose...” He flipped through the stack of letters and extricated a thick one. “This must be yours, seeing as I don’t know any other Ida Rose in Shallow Springs.”

  He chuckled over his own joke as Ida Rose grabbed the letter from his fingers. “It is from my mother,” she excitedly told Gemma.

  Going to the shade of the hotel, she tore the envelope open and found that there were indeed two letters inside of it.

  “One is from my mother and one is from Martha!”

  “How lovely. What do they say?”

  She did a quick scan of her mother’s letter. “Everyone is good… Theodora is happy at her job… Miranda has joined a ladies’ society...”

  She refolded the letter and put it back in the envelope with Martha’s. She would read them later that night, during the time when she felt most lonely.

  Gemma looped her arm in Ida Rose’s and they climbed the steps of the hotel. “That all sounds like wonderful news. Have you told them…” She dropped her voice, as if they were speaking of something secretive, “of what is going on here?”

  Ida Rose firmly shook her head. “No. I do not think that would be wise. They would worry too much.”

  Gemma’s face twisted in a wistful smile. “You are so sweet, Ida Rose.”

  She only shrugged. They had stopped at the spot where she and Tom last spoke the night before, where he had kissed her hand before fading away into the darkness. Being here once more had her heart thudding in excitement, but it also gave her great pain.

  Over Gemma’s shoulder, a rider approached from outside of town. There was something familiar about him.

  Ida Rose stood up straighter, craning her head to get a better look. The horse almost looked like… And the rider almost seemed…

  No. She was being hopeful. Tom had not promised he would visit her today.

  Except it was him.

  Entering the edge of town, his bronzed arms shone under the sun. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, sweat collecting across his chest. Either he had been working hard or riding all day.

  The envelope clenched in her hand, Ida Rose flew off the porch and met him in the street. “What are you doing here?”

  He smiled wide, making her feel as if she were weightless. “I brought some things I thought you all might need. For instance...” He opened a flap on the bag hung over the horse. “Eggs.”

  “Eggs are good,” she commented, unable to stop grinning. “What else did you bring?”

  “Me? How is that?”

  “Perfect,” she laughed. “But I thought you did not want to leave the farm.”

  His face turned serious. “I don’t. I’m headed back out there in just a few.”

  She tried not to pout. “Well, I will enjoy the few minutes that you are here. Come inside and I will fetch you some water.”

  Leaving Chestnut at the hotel’s hitching post, they entered the hotel’s restaurant. Gemma had gone off somewhere, but she would pop up soon enough. Sharing a room and nearly every moment together meant that Ida Rose no longer craved the other woman’s friendship. While they did splendidly spending almost all their time together, they had also come to enjoy short periods apart as well.

  In the hotel, Ida Rose got Tom settled before hurrying to bring him fresh water from the well. Returning to the main area, she found his mother sitting next to him.

  “Just look at all those eggs,” Elizabeth exclaimed as Tom carefully unloaded almost two dozen into a basket.

  “We will need them.” Ida Rose handed Tom his water and settled into her own chair. “What with all the people packed into this hotel. Do you know how many eggs a boy of twelve can eat? More in one meal than I can in a week.”

  Elizabeth laughed and pinched Tom on the cheek. “Oh, I know it.”

  “They’ve been laying a lot lately,” Tom explained. “It’s a good sign for the rest of the year. I left some in the coop so they can hatch. In five or six weeks, we should have chicks.”

  Ida Rose smiled at him and he returned the grin. Baby chickens clucking around in the fresh, spring grass while she and Tom worked together side-by-side. It was such a simple vision, but also such a Heavenly one.

  “What else did you bring?” Elizabeth asked.

  “This.” Tom pulled out a bible and set it in front of her.

  “Oh, Thomas,” she gasped, running her hand across the worn cover. “You don’t know how good it is to have this.”

  “I know,” he quietly said.

  His gaze caught Ida Rose’s again and they shared a long look that had heat swelling in her stomach. She had to enjoy this moment as much as she could. Another minute and he would be back on his horse, heading out to that dangerous farm once more.

  “What is that, Ida Rose?”

  “Hm?” She blinked her eyes back into focus and looked at Elizabeth.

  “In your hand.”

  “Oh.” She lifted the envelope for inspection. “It is a letter. Two, really. One from my mother and one from my sister, Martha.”

  Elizabeth stared at the envelope with concentrated effort. “Hester Lowry. Yes.”

  “My mother.”

  “I know her.”

  Ida Rose dropped the envelope into her lap. They had gone over this before, when she had last received a letter from New York. Elizabeth could not know Ida Rose’s mother. Then again…

  “You are close to the same age,” Ida Rose slowly answered. “And as you grew up in the same city… Did you go to school together? Or perhaps have mutual friends?”

  “No.” Elizabeth’s brows met and she tapped her forefinger against her mouth. “Your uncle’s wife had that name.”

  “My uncle? No, Elizabeth...”

  “She means my uncle,” Tom interrupted. “His name was Lowry. He and my father were half-brothers. That’s why they had different last names.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  Elizabeth kept going. “Yes, Hester Lowry...”

  Tom placed his hand on her shoulder. “Mother, I have to get back to the farm soon. Is there anything else you would like me to bring the next time I come to town? If I get the rest of the plowing done tomorrow, I can come in the day after that.”

  She wasn’t listening. She was pulling the bible closer to her, flipping the front of it open. A family tree stretched across the first two pages, each name carefully written so as not to take up too much space.

  “Hester Lowry,” Elizabeth murmured. “There she is. Right there.”

  “What?” Ida Rose leaned closer, ducking her face toward the book for a more careful inspection.

  Elizabeth was correct. There was a Hester Lowry. She had married a Frederick Lowry.

  Frederick Lowry.

  Ida Rose’s finger fell on the name. “That was my father’s name!”

  Tom’s eyes went wide. “What?”

  “Yes. See! Frederick Lowry. But...”

  A silence fell over the table as they stared at the family tree. Henry Adkins and Frederic Lowry… They had the same mother, Jean Adkins. But they had separate fathers.

  “Her first husband died early.” Elizabeth nodded in satisfaction. “And then she remarried. I remember now.”

  Ida Rose stared at her in horror.

  All the days when Elizabeth could not remember whether she had lit the stove yet or fed the chickens… And now, her memory was pristine, now that…

  “No.” The word that came with hardly any breath at all pushed its way from Ida Rose’s lips. She slowly turned her gaze on Tom.

  “Give me that,” he demanded, yanking the family bible to him. His shoulders were bunched up against his neck, but as he looked at the page, they fell.

  “Are you sure these are your parents?” The words were directed at the bible.

  “Yes,” Ida
Rose croaked. She had taken note of the dates of birth under the names. What were the chances that two people with the exact same names and birth dates as her parents had also met and married?