Ahead of them, the lights from the Cattleman Hotel spilled over the boardwalk. Will squeezed her hand in a reassuring manner. “Are you certain you wouldn’t rather stay and enjoy the dance? Dora is right. You’d have plenty of partners.”
“I’d rather have a little quiet. I’m not accustomed to so many people.”
“When will you learn that I’d rather risk a thousand embarrassments than miss the chance at seeing your beauty one more time?”
“What are you saying?”
“It’s the moonlight.” He made a sound of frustration. “I never should have let you stand in the moonlight. Those copper curls shall forever be my undoing.”
He pulled her to him and placed his mouth on hers. She answered by slipping her arms inside his coat, clinging to his warmth, assailed with the comforting scent of his linen shirt and bay rum cologne.
The calloused pads of his thumbs brushed gentle circles over the tender skin on the back of her arms. Amazed at the electrifying shock of his gentle touch, she shivered.
Her reaction broke the mood.
He sprang away, then rubbed his hands down his lapels.
His expression shifted to an unreadable mask of stone. “I beg your forgiveness, Miss Stone, for my unpardonable behavior.”
He pivoted on his heel and melted into the shadows.
Tomasina touched her trembling lips. What had she done wrong?
An all-encompassing dread seeped into her soul. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t belong anywhere.
Chapter Fifteen
His throat tight, Will struggled to focus. He’d kissed Tomasina. And not a chaste kiss on the forehead. A searing kiss that branded her lips.
Simon fell into step beside him.
“What’s this emergency at the hotel?” Will asked a bit impatiently.
He suspected the boy’s interruption had been planned. Simon had never had much use for Dora.
“It’s the baby, sir. Something is wrong with Ava. Mrs. Foster needs you back at the hotel. That baby has been crying and crying. She won’t quit.”
Furrowing his brow, Will gave Simon his full attention. “Have you sent for the doctor?”
Probably all the fuss was for nothing. Ava had been known to keep the whole hotel awake until all hours of the night. As Tomasina had so aptly pointed out earlier, that little one had a mind of her own. Ava had already picked favorites, as well. While she tolerated Will and was somewhat fond of Tomasina, she was most content when Hannah was near.
Simon tugged on the hem of his jacket. “We called for the doctor first thing. Can’t track him down.”
“Keep looking. Meanwhile, see if you can locate Mrs. Gardner. She’s the next best thing we have.”
Will turned and nearly collided with Tomasina.
“I saw Leah earlier,” she said. “She was sitting with a lemonade on the far side of the dance floor. I can fetch her.”
Of course they were traveling in the same direction. They both lived in the hotel.
With events escalating around them, there was no time for an apology. Dora had been inexcusably rude. Her blunt announcement of his past engagements hadn’t helped matters. He’d seen the disappointment in Tomasina’s eyes. Reaching out, he touched her arm, but words escaped him. Had their shared kiss meant anything to her? He didn’t know. Though he’d never considered himself a cowardly man, he’d rather face a firing squad than the uncertainty of her answer.
“We’ll spread the word that Doc Fletcher is needed,” Tomasina said. “And meet you back at the hotel.”
She moved away and he fought the urge to tuck her against his side once more. He wanted to comfort her and to protect her. To assure her that Dora’s words were full of spite against him and had nothing to do with Tomasina. This wasn’t the time or the place.
Instead he let her go. “I’ll relieve Mrs. Foster. You two search for the doc.”
They had little chance of locating him. With the party in full swing, there were too many bodies milling around. Hoping his earlier suspicions were correct and the child was merely exercising her preference of caregiver, Will returned to the hotel. He took the stairs two at a time and heard the squalling by the second landing.
Mrs. Foster was red faced, her hair disheveled, beads of perspiration visible on her forehead. Her gown was damp in the front and there was a distinct, unpleasant odor in the room.
“I haven’t been able to quiet the wee thing,” she said. “Just hearing these pitiful wails is breaking my heart.”
Equally red faced, Ava squalled and shook her tiny, fisted hands.
Sensing Mrs. Foster’s growing distress, he held out his arms. “I’ll take her. You need a break.”
“I couldn’t. She’s been spitting up, as well. You’ll ruin your best suit.”
“I’ll buy another.” Will shrugged out of his coat and tossed it over a chair. “Mr. Lin already owes me several new shirts to replace the pink ones.”
Will took the infant, and Mrs. Foster breathed a gusty sigh. “Simon sent for the doctor ages ago. I don’t know why he isn’t here.”
“Patience, Mrs. Foster. The cavalry is on its way.”
True to his word, Tomasina arrived a short time later with Leah and Daniel in tow.
“Must you live on the third floor?” Daniel grumbled. He guided his wife toward an overstuffed chair. “Sit. You’ve worn yourself out climbing all those stairs.”
“I’m fine,” Leah replied as she gratefully sank onto the chair. “There’s no need to fuss.”
As was usual these days, Leah appeared radiant. Since marrying Daniel, there was an inherent vivacity that had nothing to do with her pregnancy and everything to do with the adoration Daniel showered on her. He was grateful his two childhood friends had found love together.
Leah reached for Ava. “Let’s see if we can figure out what’s wrong with this little one.”
For the next few minutes she peppered Mrs. Foster with questions and gave the baby a thorough examination.
Daniel paced behind her. “It’s not contagious, is it? I don’t want you exposed to something contagious.”
He rested a hand on Leah’s shoulder, and she reached across her chest and grasped his fingers. “There’s nothing to worry about. It’s a simple case of colic.”
“Colic?” Will questioned. “What is that? How is that treated?”
The term was familiar—a stomach ailment—but he didn’t know much else.
“Colic is a fancy word for a bellyache,” Leah explained. “These little ones have sensitive tummies. Even the slightest change in her diet can cause an upset.” She wrapped the blanket around the squirming baby once more. “There’s not much to do but wait and ease her discomfort as best we can. We can give her a bit of peppermint tea. I wouldn’t suggest anything more. Time is the best remedy. We’re in for a long night.”
“Not we.” Daniel absently ran the backs of his knuckles along Leah’s cheek. “Absolutely not. You’ve already had a busy evening. I’m taking you home, and you’re putting your feet up. You’ve already been dancing. Not to mention all those stairs.”
He shot another accusatory glance at Will.
“I’ll stay,” Tomasina offered. “Ava is accustomed to me.”
Mrs. Foster nodded. “I’ll stay, as well.”
Will surveyed the group. “You’ve done enough, Mrs. Foster. Perhaps Miss Taggart can assist.”
“She’s at the dance.” Mrs. Foster tsked. “First time the girl has shown any interest in something social. I refuse to drag her away.”
With a mischievous grin, Leah held the baby against her shoulder and patted her back. “I don’t mean to gossip, but I saw Miss Taggart dancing with a certain handsome drover.”
“Who?” Tomasina demanded. “What did he look like?”
Will glanced between the two. Did Tomasina have a crush on one of the drovers?
“Oh, what was his name?” Leah bit her lower lip. “You remember, Daniel. We had him for supper. He’s been helping out with guard duty, as well. He was on watch the night I injured my ankle. He wears that distinctive vest with beading on the back.”
Daniel nodded. “That’d be James Johnson.”
“Oh, yes. James!” Leah exclaimed. “Nice young fellow.”
With everyone’s attention focused on Ava, Will studied Tomasina’s reaction. She appeared more speculative than jealous. Not that it was any of his business. Not in the least. He was merely curious as to her interest in James Johnson and Hannah Taggart.
The young drover seemed a decent enough fellow, and they’d be well chaperoned. The reverend was also in attendance at the dance, although Will wasn’t certain if his presence was good or bad news for the young couple. The reverend didn’t strike him as the sort of man who’d endorse the pairing. Drovers tended to be rough around the edges, not to mention their vagabond existence. Though father and daughter no longer lived beneath the same roof, the reverend kept a close watch on Hannah. If there was an attraction brewing between the young lady and the handsome cowboy, he doubted Reverend Taggart would approve.
Simon touched his cap. “I’d best get back downstairs. You want I should send for Hannah?”
“No. She’s worked hard enough these past weeks caring for Ava and sewing dresses for all the ladies. Let her have some fun and relax for once.” Will caught Simon’s sleeve. “Can you send up a tray? I don’t know if the ladies have eaten supper.”
With a plan in place, the room quickly cleared, leaving only Will, Mrs. Foster and Tomasina.
Mrs. Foster’s wrists dangled over the arms of her chair. “Ava seems to like it best when you walk with her. You let me know when it’s my turn. I’m going to rest my eyes for a wee moment.”
Twenty minutes later a knock sounded on the door and Simon appeared with a tray containing a teapot and cups, along with a selection of sliced meats and bread.
“You’re a dear, Simon.” Tomasina thanked the boy. “I’ll take that.”
As Will paced, she poured three cups of tea. He declined cream and sugar. Mrs. Foster accepted her cup and set the saucer on the table beside her chair. After experimenting with several positions, Will discovered that if he let Ava rest her stomach on his forearm, her arms and legs dangling, her head cradled in his hand, she quieted.
Tomasina shook her head. “That is the oddest way of carrying a baby I’ve ever seen.”
“Shh. It’s working. I don’t care how it looks.”
With Ava content, he heard another noise. A low, rumbling sound. Glancing around, he discovered Mrs. Foster had nodded off.
Seeing where his attention was focused, Tomasina stood and motioned him into the private parlor off the sitting room they’d converted into a nursery. She pulled the double doors closed behind them.
“Poor Mrs. Foster,” she whispered. “She’s had quite an evening. We might as well let her sleep for a bit.”
“She was worried sick when I arrived.” He paced in front of the fire. Though spring, the nights were chilly. “How do you like working in the kitchen?”
Tomasina straightened her arms, locked her elbows and stared at her blunt fingernails. “About that... I am no longer in your employ.”
Will halted. “What did you do this time?”
“Me? Why must you assume that I did something?”
“What did you do?” he repeated, narrowing his eyes.
“I threatened the Ferguson boys with bodily harm if they didn’t clean up the mess they’d made in the dining room.”
Ava fussed, and he resumed his pacing. “I know those children. They can be rambunctious.”
“They spilled a glass of milk on purpose, and then they deliberately tripped me.”
“I’ll speak with Mr. Ferguson. His boys have been a handful since their mother died. Mr. Ferguson can be distant. He lived in South Carolina. Lost his farm when he was away fighting.”
“All that killing and dying,” Tomasina said. “And for what? Nothing. We fought a war to keep the southern states part of the union, and now they’re starving. Overrun by carpetbaggers. Most of the folks still farming after the war owe their souls to the mercantile.”
“There didn’t have to be a war.”
The glint in her eyes warned him. A Northerner should never start a debate about the war with someone nicknamed Texas Tom.
She set her jaw and leaned forward.
There was absolutely no chance of an argument between the two of them about The War Between the States ending well.
* * *
Tomasina pinned Will with a mutinous glare. “Are you one of those folks who think the South needs to suffer? That we let them starve? Punish them?” She made a sound of disgust. “I don’t know why Texas ever joined the union in the first place. We were better off before the war. Texas doesn’t even have an elected representative in the federal government anymore.”
“You can’t blame President Johnson for that. Texas hasn’t exactly met the requirements for reconstruction.”
“Some reconstruction.”
“Everyone knew reconstruction was going to be difficult. President Lincoln knew that better than anyone did. He paid with his life. A lasting peace might have been different had he lived.”
“I guess we’ll never know, will we?” She grimaced.
“The healing will take a generation. Nothing will happen overnight.”
Tomasina had known this debate was a bad idea from the beginning. Will was a Union soldier, born and raised in the north. He didn’t understand. For good or for ill, the Southern way of life had been destroyed. He was right about one thing: people didn’t change generations of tradition overnight.
“There’s healing and then there’s punishment,” Tomasina said. “Folks are punishing the South.”
Why did everyone think starting over was easy? Folks who spent generations living a certain way weren’t prepared to be upended. She needed to find another outfit. Once she found a trustworthy crew, she’d go back to the way things were. The key was James Johnson. He’d know the dependable cowboys from the rest. Except James had been dancing with Hannah Taggart earlier that evening. If he settled down with a wife, he wouldn’t be going on the trail anymore.
No. James wasn’t one for settling. There’d been rumors of a girl in Harper, Kansas, as well, and he hadn’t settled down that time. There was no reason to think he was changing his ways now. It was a dance and that was all. No need to read anything into his actions. She and James were two of a kind. A couple of loners who’d never settle down. Like her pa before, she’d live and die on the trail.
Ava fussed for a moment then settled down once more. Simon arrived with the peppermint tea Leah had recommended, and Tomasina filled a bottle with the warmed brew. Ava fussed in Will’s arms and eventually took a measure of the cure.
He grinned at Tomasina. “Success! We’re parents in the making.” He realized what he’d said, and tension stretched between them. “I didn’t—”
“It’s all right.” She glanced away. Was the idea that unpalatable? “I know what you meant.”
His pensive expression remained. Her chest grew so heavy she couldn’t breathe. He’d make a wonderful father. Seeing his unabashed devotion to Ava, a child for whom he had no obligation, she knew he’d be a doting father to children of his own.
Her pa had never been particularly demonstrative. He’d loved her, but his work had been his life. He’d channeled his affection through his teaching. He’d always been a man who needed a student. He’d trained her to rope and ride, and then he’d trained James to do the same. Most of the younger men had learned from his vast wealth of knowledge. He
’d certainly never treated her as a child. They’d made that agreement on her first trail ride. If she wanted to ride with the men, there’d be no coddling.
She didn’t regret her upbringing. Not for a minute. She’d seen sights that most folks only dreamed about. She’d met Indians and trappers; she’d seen buffalo trails cut into the earth a hundred years ago.
Thinking back on all the places she’d been, all the people she’d met, she couldn’t recall ever feeling this overwhelming sense of comfort and peace. The sensation was a panacea, tugging her toward its depths yet always out of reach. Having Will near, she felt utterly protected and safe. She’d heard Daniel call him “the captain,” and she understood the designation. She had no doubt he’d give his life for her.
He was an arm’s distance and a lifetime away from her.
He rubbed his nose against Ava’s, drawing a coo from the tiny baby. There was no trace of boyishness in his features. The hard planes of his face had been shaped by battle and loss, tragedy and grief, yet he appeared younger in that moment—lighter somehow.
He was an affectionate man, and she wasn’t used to affection. She’d never realized the comforting assurance of human touch—the cupping of her elbow as she’d traversed an uneven patch on the boardwalk, the way he’d rested his hand on her hip when he’d sensed she was upset. The gentle pressure of his lips against her forehead.
A tremor of pure emotion vibrated through her. She wanted to fling herself into the warmth of his solid embrace and crush her cheek against the linen of his shirt. She wanted to feel safe and protected. She wanted to feel as though she belonged someplace.
Instead she held herself in check.
How was putting that burden on Will any different than depending on her pa? She needed to build her own life, her own future. She was no better than Dora. She’d seen how the dark-haired girl had clung to the banker’s arm. Tomasina might have lived on the trail most of her life, but she had a fair understanding of how the world worked for a woman. Hitching her wagon to a rich man guaranteed Dora a better future. Yet she’d always be beholden. Trapped in a cage of her own making.
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