by Bonnie Leon
“I’m always up early.”
She glanced at the sky. “Looks like another clear day,” she said cheerily. “Will you be working with my husband today?” she asked, reflecting on the changes in Jim. At their first meeting he’d been downright surly. Now he seemed a different man.
“Nope. I’ve got work to do here. Maybe I’ll see you around later?”
“Maybe.”
Daniel strode up to Jim, then flashed Rebecca an unreadable expression. Not knowing exactly why she felt guilty over her banter with Jim, she offered Daniel a smile.
Turning to the American, Daniel snapped, “Don’t you have work to do?”
“Sure do. I’ll get right to it.” Jim hurried toward the barn.
Daniel looked back at Rebecca, his expression cross.
He’s jealous, Rebecca realized, feeling a momentary sense of satisfaction. Now maybe he’d understand her feelings about Meghan. “Have a nice day,” she said.
Daniel didn’t reply but walked back to the house. A few moments later footsteps sounded in the hallway and the bedroom door flew open. His tall frame filled the doorway. Gripping his hat in his hands, he glowered at Rebecca. “I don’t want you talking to him.”
“Jim? But why not?”
Daniel glanced around the room, looking as if he were searching for a reply.
“You’re angry. Why?”
“He’s always mooning over you, and every chance you get you flirt back.”
“That’s not true.”
“You’re married . . . to me. You’re not to keep company with anyone else.”
Outrage spilled from Rebecca. “How dare you accuse me of improper behavior! I would never! You know that.”
“I know what I see. And I’ll send him packing.”
“Your eyesight is poor. And while we’re talking about inappropriate conduct, I think we ought to discuss Meghan Linnell.”
“We’re talking about you and Jim Keller.”
“Meghan’s here at every opportunity. She hangs on your every word. She nearly salivates over you. It’s disgusting and indecent.”
“You know as well as I do there’s nothing between me and Meghan. We’re chums is all. Would you like me to cut off all my friendships?”
“No. Just that one.” Rebecca folded her arms over her chest and turned her back to Daniel. She blinked away tears. I won’t give him the satisfaction.
“If I see you with Jim again, I’ll fire him. And I’ll make sure no one in the district gives him a job. He’ll have a hard go of it then, eh?”
Rebecca whirled around and faced her husband. “How can you punish someone for something he hasn’t done? There’s nothing between Jim and me.” Daniel’s face remained dark and angry. She continued, “There’s barely anything between you and me, for that matter. We’ve a marriage of convenience, remember?”
Daniel stared at her, working his jaw. His words wrenched from his throat. “I thought it could be more than that.”
“How so, Daniel? We barely knew each other when we married, and you’re rarely here. When would there be time for more?”
“We make love.”
Rebecca’s anger flared. She folded her hands over her chest. “Is that all men think is of importance? There’s more. We need to know each other, how we think and feel and why. And if there is ever to be trust between us, there can be no others.”
“Right. That means you’re not to spend time with other men.”
“Thinking there’s something between me and Jim is pure nonsense.”
Daniel ran the palm of his hand along the rim of his hat. “I suppose you’re right. I’m sorry.” He combed his fingers through his hair. “I married a handsome woman, and men are going to admire you—can’t help themselves.” He settled the hat on his head. “Foolish, I guess—faulting Jim for noticing beauty.”
“He’s an American, like me. We have something in common. It’s nothing more.”
“I’ll try not to let it bother me. But you can’t blame a bloke for getting upset.” He stepped closer. “I realize Meghan’s overstepped the limits of propriety.” He stood close to Rebecca. “I know she fancies me. I’m not blind. I don’t know how to tell her to stay clear . . . We’ve been chums so long. Even as kids we quite liked each other. Our fathers expected us to marry.”
Rebecca wasn’t certain how to respond. “I can’t blame her for wanting you. You’re a good man.”
“But I’m taken, eh?” He smiled. “And I’ll tell her so.”
Rebecca nodded. “Be careful, Daniel. I don’t trust her.”
“I know how to handle Meghan Linnell. Don’t you fret.” He kissed her forehead and pulled her close. “We’ll work on us. I promise.” He released her. “Dad will be waiting on me, and I’ll not hear the last of it.”
Rebecca watched him walk away, then stared at the closed door. “Please be watchful; be wise.” Disquieted, she dropped into the chair at her writing desk.
A longing for home engulfed Rebecca. She needed to settle into the leather chair in her father’s office and have a long chat with him. But he wasn’t there, would never be there. Opening the desk drawer and retrieving her writing materials, she decided a letter to her aunt would have to do.
She dipped pen into ink and started, “Dear Aunt Mildred, I miss you terribly. I hope you’re in good health.” She stared at the small paragraph and considered what else she should share. If she talked about her troubles, Mildred would worry, and there was nothing she could do about any of this. Better she think all is well.
Rebecca wrote about the interesting animals she’d seen since arriving and about Willa and her flower garden that reminded her of home. She explained the great distances people traveled just to go to town or to church and about her friendship with Cambria. She described the ride she and Daniel had taken and asked about Chavive. Did she ever see the mare and hear how she was doing in her new home?
She didn’t mention lost hopes or dreams or fears about adjusting to her new life or the dreadful clashes with her father-in-law. She wanted badly to ask what God’s Word said about a man’s authority over his family, but she dared not. It would only stir up worry.
She sealed the letter, wishing she’d been able to tell Mildred that she felt imprisoned with no life of her own. Dear Lord in heaven, this can’t be what you wanted for me. There must be more. Show me what you have planned for my life. She placed the letter on the top of her bureau. She’d drop it at the post office on Sunday. It would travel across the flats, over the mountains, and across the sea, then across another continent before reaching her aunt. She was so far away.
Rebecca’s stomach rumbled, reminding her she’d forgotten about breakfast. A cup of tea and a crumpet would be just the thing. She dressed quickly and went down to the kitchen.
Callie stood at a sideboard. “I was just bringin’ this up ta ya, mum.”
“That’s all right. I think I’d rather have breakfast on the veranda.” Rebecca moved toward the door. “Where’s Willa?”
“She’s out at the barn. A calf was born in the night. Guess his mum had a hard go of it. He’s a bit weak.”
“Oh,” Rebecca said, slightly disappointed she wouldn’t have Willa’s company during breakfast. She wandered onto the veranda. The air felt hot but seemed to be of no concern to the chirping birds darting among the greenery along the porch.
Callie set Rebecca’s breakfast on the small table. “Anything else?”
“Thank you, no.”
Silently Callie retreated.
Rebecca filled a cup with tea, added sugar, then sipped, contemplating the day. What would she do? It was too hot to work in the garden, she’d already written a letter, and the idea of spending a day sewing in the parlor was unbearable. She wished she could visit Cambria. She was such fun. Maybe Woodman will take me.
A nicker carried from the barn. Rena, Rebecca thought. I’m an expert horsewoman. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t ride to Cambria’s. An image of Bertram’s rage when
he discovered her defiance of his rules filled her mind, and she cringed. Making him angry was not something to be taken lightly.
By the time Willa returned, Rebecca had finished her breakfast and sat drinking a second cup of tea. “Is the calf all right?”
“Quite. It’s a lively little bull. I dare say, he’s handsome too. I always like to visit the new ones when they’re born in the barn.” She sat in a chair opposite Rebecca, then used a lace handkerchief to pat moisture on her neck. “It’s already hot.”
“I doubt I’ll ever get used to the heat.”
“Make certain to wear a hat and stay in the shade . . . Cool drinks help.” She smiled. “My English ancestry rebels against such weather just as your Boston roots must. But in time you’ll find it tolerable.”
Rebecca nodded, her mind on horses. “Willa, do you ride?”
“I used to. I’m sorry to say my riding days are behind me. My back complains miserably if I spend much time in the saddle.”
Rebecca’s hopes of a riding companion evaporated. She pondered what to do. The idea of Bertram’s anger was intimidating. I could be back before anyone noticed.
After a short rest on the veranda, Willa went inside to supervise the morning baking. Rebecca knew if she was going riding, it had to be now. She hurried to her room, changed into a riding habit, then walking as casually as her racing heart would allow, went straight to the barn. If she rode without mishap, there might be a chance of convincing her father-in-law it was safe for her to go alone.
The heat only seemed worse inside the barn. The smell of hay and manure reminded her of the stables back home and of Chavive. She peeked into the stall with the new calf. Solid brown with a white nose, he slept while his mother ground up a mouthful of hay.
Rena stood quietly in a darkened stall. Rebecca stepped through the gate, then keeping a hand on the mare’s neck, she spoke softly. “Would you like to go for a ride?” The horse nickered. Rebecca ran her hand down the front of the animal’s face. Rena nuzzled her. “Next time I’ll bring you a treat. Do you like carrots?” She felt a growing companionship between herself and the mare.
Rebecca retrieved a bridle and blanket from the tack room. She put on the halter, tucking Rena’s ears between the straps, then maneuvered the bit gently into her mouth. When she reached for the blanket, she heard a noise and turned to find Jim leaning on the gate, staring at her.
“Oh, you frightened me,” Rebecca said with a nervous laugh.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Put off by his bossy tone, Rebecca replied haughtily, “I’m going for a ride.”
“Mr. Thornton give you permission?”
Rebecca settled the blanket on Rena’s back. “I’m my own person. I don’t need permission.”
“He’ll have your hide and mine too if you go out alone. I can’t let you.”
“You have no say in what I do or don’t do, Mr. Keller. In Boston I rode nearly every day. My horse Chavive and I spent hours on the grounds and exploring the woods near my home. And I don’t intend to relinquish my freedom simply because I’ve moved.”
Jim shook his head slowly. “You’ve more than moved. You’re living in a different world. And as much as I disagree with Bertram Thornton’s style of leadership, I agree with him in this. It’s not safe for you to head out there on your own.”
“Meghan does it all the time, and Cambria’s been here to visit more than once on her own. I don’t see why . . .”
“They’ve lived here all their lives. They know the troubles they might face and how to handle them. You don’t.”
“I’ll learn.”
“All right, then. Tell me what you’ll do if you get lost?”
Rebecca didn’t answer right away. She hadn’t thought about that. “I won’t get lost. I’ll be very careful.”
“The weather can get you, ya know. Do you have an extra canteen of water?”
Rebecca hadn’t thought of that either. “I wasn’t planning to go far.”
“A person never sets out without plenty of water.” His voice was sharp. “And just where were you planning to go?”
“I thought I’d follow the road and head toward town.”
“Some places the road disappears. It’s easy to get turned around out there.”
“I’ll manage.” Rebecca strode to the tack room and picked up the sidesaddle.
Jim grabbed the saddle and returned it to its wooden frame.
Rebecca glared at him. “I’m going whether you like it or not.”
Jim met Rebecca’s stare. After a few moments he took a deep breath and his eyes softened. “All right. But I’m going with you.”
Rebecca couldn’t deny she’d like the company, but she knew full well that if Daniel discovered she’d gone riding with Jim he’d be furious. “No. I’ll be fine.”
“No you won’t.” A grin touched his lips.
Rebecca knew she wouldn’t get away from the house without him following, and she wasn’t about to give up her ride. “Fine, then. Suit yourself.” She lifted the saddle and started for the door.
Jim watched as she trudged back to the stall. Once there, she realized that although Rena wasn’t a large horse it would be extremely difficult to swing the saddle onto her back. She hesitated just long enough for Jim to step up and take the saddle. Effortlessly he settled it on the horse’s back, cinched it up, then handed the reins to Rebecca.
“My horse is ready. We’ve already been working this morning.” He walked out of the barn, and Rebecca followed, leading Rena.
Jim mounted while Rebecca led her horse alongside the fence. She used the bottom plank as a stepping stool and pushed up onto the horse’s back. Settling onto the saddle, she straightened her skirts, then touched the horse’s side with a riding crop and turned her toward the road.
Jim studied Rebecca.
“What are you looking at?”
“That tiny little hat isn’t going to do you much good out in this sun.”
“It goes with my riding habit. It’s a riding hat.”
Jim shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You’re liable to get burned.”
“I’ve never burned easily,” Rebecca tapped Rena with the whip, and the horse trotted away from the house. By the time they’d cleared the trees and moved onto the road, the tension had left Rebecca’s body. It felt wonderful to be riding, no matter who accompanied her.
Nothing was said for a long while; then Rebecca decided it was time to break the silence. “How long did you say you’ve been working here, Mr. Keller?”
“Ten years, give or take. Managed to find work the first month.”
“Did you do this kind of labor before?”
“Nope. Grew up in New York City. My father was a longshoreman. But from the moment I got here I knew this was home.” He gazed at the open land. “Either you love it or you hate it, there’s no in-between. I hope to buy my own place. I’ve been putting money aside since my first paycheck.”
“What about your family?”
A shadow touched Jim’s eyes. “Never really knew my father. He worked most of the time, and my mother passed away a couple of years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
Jim shrugged. “It’s all right. We weren’t close. My brothers live somewhere in the States. Just don’t know where.”
“How many brothers do you have?”
“Three. There’s Eddie; he’s the youngest. He was always in trouble. And then there’s John. He’s a year younger than me. I figure he’s doin’ good. He was kind of quiet and studious, you know the type.”
Rebecca smiled and nodded.
“My older brother Robert lit out before me. The family never heard from him after he left. I figure he got killed in a fight somewhere. He was scrapping all the time.” Jim was silent a moment, then asked, “How about you? Any brothers or sisters?”
“No. I’m an only child. My mother died when I was a five. My father and my aunt Mildred raised me.” She gazed at a swi
rl of dust, then swept a fly away from her face. “My father died just before I married Daniel.” The lone fly persisted and was soon joined by others.
“That why you married Daniel?”
Rebecca felt the question unsuitable, but there was something about Jim that provoked honesty. “Actually, yes. My father was a fine man but not a good businessman. When Daniel asked, I decided he offered the best option under the circumstances.”
“You going to stay?”
“Of course.” She swatted at the flies. “Marriage is not something I take lightly.”
“I never said you did.” Seemingly unaware of the flies, he added, “There are some who wouldn’t stay. This is a lonely life.” He adjusted his hat, still ignoring the horde of flies.
“I won’t leave.” She turned her horse around. “It’s time we went back. This heat can’t be good for the horses.”
In truth, Rebecca knew the heat wasn’t good for her. She could feel the beginnings of a sunburn, and she was rapidly becoming overly warm. And the flies were another bother she’d rather do without. She grabbed her canteen, opened it, and took a large swallow.
“The horses are fine,” Jim said with a smirk. “It’s you who shouldn’t stay out in this heat.” He watched Rebecca swat at flies. “Bugs are bad right now.”
They walked the horses back to the house, neither of them speaking. Rebecca didn’t feel refreshed. Instead, she was sweating and fighting off flies. Back home in New England, riding had been much nicer.
“We should have gone to the billabong,” she said.
“Would have been nicer there, I expect.”
When they walked into the yard, Woodman met them. “Ya better git inside. Ya’ve been missed and Mrs. Thornton is upset. I’ll take yer horse ’round ta the barn.” He offered her a hand down.
Rebecca slid out of the saddle, then looked at Jim. “Thank you for accompanying me, Mr. Keller.” She walked to the house and met Willa on the porch. “I’m sorry I worried you.”
“Thank goodness you’re all right, dear.”
“You didn’t need to worry. I’m an accomplished rider, and Jim was with me.”
“Yes, well, that is reassuring,” she said. “But, Rebecca, you must learn to tame this rebellious spirit of yours.”
