Benning, Texas—late October, 1898
My love, the letter began. Faith felt a tear trickle down her cheek, and she brushed at it with an impatient hand. Brace stood in front of her and she glanced up.
“I’m sorry. I’m rude to read this in your company.” She folded it back into the envelope and stuffed it in her pocket.
“That’s all right, Faith. I knew when I saw it was from Max that you’d want to get your hands on it right away.”
“Come in and we’ll have some coffee,” she said, feeling the warmth of the missive in her pocket as if it were a burning coal.
Brace stepped onto the porch and held the door open for her, then followed her into the kitchen. “I’ll put the coffee on,” he offered. “You sit down and read your letter, why don’t you?”
Faith gave in to temptation. It was the first correspondence she’d received from Max. In almost two months, she’d written and torn into shreds several notes of her own, determined that he should break the silence first. And it had paid off. She carried the proof in her pocket.
There was enough sunlight shining through the window to see by, and she settled in a chair beside the glass panes. She thought there was a faint scent of something on the paper. Some trace of shaving cream, perhaps, or maybe it was the smell of the hand soap Max used in his office. Stifling the urge to lift the paper to her nose, she inhaled deeply, hoping to recognize the drifting aroma, but to no avail.
It was but a single page, the writing distinctive and bold—Max’s own hand, not a note dictated to his secretary. Faith wasn’t surprised. Max was too private an individual to place his thoughts before a third person. Her eyes lingered on the heading once more.
“My love,” she read, savoring the salutation. “My work is heavy and time has passed quickly. Forgive me for not writing sooner. We left with harsh words between us, but I refuse to leave things unsettled. There is a great deal I would like to say to you, and many problems yet to be solved, but perhaps time will heal some of the wounds we managed to inflict in our last encounter. Know that my thoughts are with you.”
He’d signed his name in slashing letters, and the letters were blurred as if his hand had smudged the ink.
She looked out the window to where the garden lay brown and bleak, only the dried potato vines clinging to the fruits of her harvest. Autumn was upon them. Already the nights were chilly, and even though the days warmed up and the final crop of hay in the fields between the farm and town wasn’t yet cut, there was an air of preparation in the days that passed.
Winter would be here soon, making travel difficult. Max would not be coming back, she realized. He’d said he would in the spring, but she’d hoped—oh, how she’d hoped that before the first snowflakes fell, he would find his way to her. It was not to be. And her heart sank at the knowledge.
You could have gone with him. The words rang in her head, a much repeated refrain of regret, and she considered them honestly. No, she thought, I couldn’t. Not the way things were. I took a stand, and Max made his choice.
He didn’t have a choice. Again she heard the inner voice of reason and dismissed it with a shrug. “We all have choices,” she muttered beneath her breath.
“Did you say something?” Brace stood at the stove, looking at her over his shoulder, a concerned expression on his face.
“No, I was just thinking aloud,” she said, and then turned to him, forcing a smile. “Why don’t we take a couple of hours and work on your reading, Brace?” she asked brightly. “Are you in a hurry to get back to town?”
“No, ma’am,” he replied, and his smile matched hers. “I’ll go get the book from your parlor.”
She watched him go, and felt a pang of regret. Why couldn’t a man like Brace be the one to make her heart beat faster, her breath catch in her throat at the sight of his dear features? And then, as he returned with the simple, easy-to-read book they used for their times together, she crossed to sit at the table and smiled at him as he sat at an angle, always careful to keep his distance.
“We’re on page sixty-four, if I remember right,” she said, and watched as he found the place with ease, pleased at the rapid progress he’d made over the past weeks.
Boston, Massachusetts—November, 1898
“You’re about as happy as a fish out of water,” Howard said glumly. “You’ve made all our employees walk around with frowns. It used to be almost a decent place to work until you came back from Texas, Max.”
“I didn’t guarantee our employees a party every day when they hired on with us,” Max said sharply. “I’m working my way through all the snags you’ve thrown at me over the past weeks, and I’ll be the first to admit that the bluebird of happiness is not sitting on my shoulder.”
“You need to get your nose out of that stack of work, if you ask me, and think of something besides the business,” Howard said forcefully. “Melissa asked you twice last week to come by for supper, and you brushed her off with a feeble excuse.”
Max leaned back and eyed his brother ruefully. “I’m not good company right now. I want to get things straightened up here so I can spend more time getting my personal life in order.”
“If we didn’t need both of us here right now to get this whole situation in hand, I’d send you back to Texas,” Howard told him.
“And if I didn’t feel compelled to be here, I’d be on my way right now. Nothing would make me happier.”
“Have you heard from her? Or aren’t I allowed to ask?”
“Yeah,” Max said, his voice a disgusted growl. “She’s fine. The chickens are fine. The mare is fine, and even the sheriff is fine.” He looked up and displeasure was dark on his countenance. “If it weren’t for a note from her neighbor, I’d wonder if the woman had more than one set of words in her vocabulary. According to Lin, everything is not fine. Faith is tired all the time, and isn’t any happier than she was when I left. Lin fears she’s not eating properly. And she said her face is drawn and pale.”
“And what are you going to do about it?”
Max spread his hands on top of his desk blotter. “Nothing for now.” He looked up and focused on his brother. “There are too many people depending on this business for me to walk away when things are precarious. Once we get the shipping line organized and the office running smoothly, I’ll have a longer stretch of days to myself.”
He pointed at a file on one side of his desk. “I’m in the midst of negotiations for the house, and that’s going slowly. It’s difficult to deal with owners who live halfway across the country.”
“Have you told Faith about the place you’re buying for her?”
Max shook his head. “I wanted it to be a surprise. Oh, we spoke of it when I was in Texas, but nothing definite was in the works then. I couldn’t make any promises.”
“And now?” Howard sat down in the chair across from Max’s desk. He tilted his head to one side and scanned his brother. “I’ll tell you, Max. If ever a man looked in need of a woman’s touch, it’s you.”
Max looked down at his spotless cuffs, the splendid weave of wool that made up his suit. “I look all right to me.”
“It’s your eyes, Max. The pallor of your skin. You’ve almost totally lost the tanned look you sported when you arrived back in town two months ago. And your mouth is drawn.”
“Maybe Faith and I make a good pair,” Max said with a hollow laugh. He held up a hand. “Tell you what. I’ll make a vow to travel before Christmas. Bad weather or not, I’ll get on a train and head for Dallas. The train doesn’t run well from there to Benning in winter, but December shouldn’t be too bad. Gives me six more weeks to get things in order here. And then I’m going to get her.”
“Will she come willingly?”
Max set his jaw, knew a moment of panic as he considered that very shaky possibility, and then he spoke, his words harsh and without compromise.
“She’ll come. If I have to carry her over my shoulder, kicking and screaming, she’ll come with me. This has gone
far enough.”
Benning, Texas—November, 1898
My love, it began. It seemed that Max was fond of the salutation, Faith decided. And then she halted in the middle of the sidewalk, right in front of the bank, to read the letter she held. Good manners decreed she be alone to peruse her mail, but she’d decided that waiting until she headed for home to read his words was not an option.
Her hands trembled as she held the paper before her. He wrote of work, of Howard and his wife. It seemed Melissa had given up on her brother-in-law, having invited him to supper numerous times without an acceptance from him. The new shipping line was shaping up. Spring would tell the tale, Max said.
And then there was a blot, as if he’d sunk into deep thought, resting the nib of his pen on the paper, allowing the ink to flow onto the page. He’d scribbled a note beside the smudge, circling it and asking her pardon for failing to use his desk blotter. She smiled at his foolishness, as he’d probably wanted her to.
Not a word of Hazel McDowell. And Faith wondered at that.
Not a whisper of love, no aching words telling of his need for her. And for that fact, she mourned.
She crumpled the paper in her hand, and then laboriously straightened it, smoothing it between her fingers.
“Did he make you angry?” Lin stood beside her, a frown gathering at her brow.
“Who?” Faith raised wide eyes to her friend.
“Max, I assume,” Lin said dryly. “That is a letter from him, isn’t it?”
“This?” Faith looked down at the wrinkled mess she held. “Yes, it’s from Max. And yes, he made me angry.” She inhaled deeply. “I’m so mad at him I could spit.”
“Well, at least you’re feeling something,” Lin said. “It sure beats that placid, calm look you wear all the time. I was beginning to think my friend Faith had been taken over by the man in the moon.”
“I haven’t been that bad,” Faith said quickly. “I even ate supper at your house last week,” she said, recalling Max’s letter and Melissa’s spurned invitations.
“Correction,” Lin said. “You pushed some food around on your plate. Katie said you must be sickening with something.”
“I’m fine.”
“Hmm…” Lin murmured. “And then Katie said she thought maybe you were in the family way. Apparently, sometimes that affects women’s appetites.” She shot Faith a piercing look, and then continued on, her gaze watchful. “With me, it just increased my appetite. Nicholas was certain I would turn into a butterball by the time Jonathan was born.”
“Family way?” Faith repeated, latching on to the phrase that described her problem exactly. “Why on earth would she think that?”
“She’s a canny lass, according to Nicholas. Knows things before I do sometimes.”
Faith was silent, her gaze fixed on the sidewalk at her feet. And then she lifted her head and met Lin’s inquisitive look. “Katie is one smart lady. Tell her I said so.” Her whisper was almost silent, but her smile spoke volumes.
Immediately Lin wrapped her arms around her friend and held her close. The paper Faith clutched crinkled loudly, and Lin backed away. “I’ve crunched your mail,” she said, grabbing for the single sheet of paper and smoothing it with quick touches.
“It’s all right. I already read it.” Faith took it from her and folded it, replacing it in its envelope. “I’ll probably read it over when I get home, just in case I missed something.”
“Come home with me,” Lin begged, holding Faith’s hands in her own. “Katie’s making pot roast for supper, and you know how you like it. We’re having the last of the garden vegetables and a fresh apple pie.”
“I have things to do,” Faith began, her words vague as she sought for an excuse.
“I’ll bring her,” said a male voice from a nearby doorway. Brace stood just a few feet from where they stood, his gaze locked on Faith’s pale features. “She looks like a strong wind would blow her away, Mrs. Garvey. I’ll see to it she’s at your table at suppertime.”
“Thank you, Sheriff,” Lin said with a grin. “I knew I could count on the law to take a hand in things when this woman gets ornery. We’ll lay a place for you, too.”
“That would be fine, ma’am,” he said, tilting his hat at a jaunty angle. And then he reached for Faith’s arm. “Come on, my friend,” he said quietly. “Let’s gather your things, and I’ll tie my horse to the back of your wagon and drive you home.”
Faith looked up at him, her eyes filling with tears. “You’re a wonderful man, Brace. Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?”
“No, I don’t believe so,” he said with a grin. “But I’ll give you an hour or so to do the job. Now, let’s get you together and you can wait on the wagon while I pick up your supplies from the store.”
Faith frowned. “How do you know I have supplies waiting for me?”
“I saw you come out of there empty-handed, and I figured old Mr. Metcalf was putting them together.” He searched her face and apparently saw something that pleased him, for he smiled. “Was I right?”
“Frequently,” she said, turning back to Lin. “It seems I’m to be a guest at your table for supper this evening. Thank you for the invitation.”
Brace was quick, loading her onto the wagon seat and then traipsing into the general store for her things. He carried her basket over his arm and placed it in the wagon bed behind the seat. “Mr. Metcalf said he took this from your credit. You still have some left, apparently.”
“I think Max paid him a substantial sum on my account before he left town. I never seem to owe any money to the man.”
“You bring in eggs pretty regularly, don’t you?”
She cast him a scathing glance. “You don’t buy this many provisions with the profit from a few dozen eggs, Brace.”
“Metcalf said he could use some apples. You got extra?”
“You should know. You picked them.” A pang of guilt touched her to the quick as she remembered his long hours in the orchard one Sunday, carrying bushel baskets of fruit into the root cellar for her. And then he’d lugged another bushel to town for Mr. Metcalf to sell in the store.
“I’ll take a look when we get to your place.” He climbed atop the wagon seat and lifted the reins. The team stirred into motion and Brace turned them in the middle of the road, heading for the farmhouse. “You haven’t baked any pies at your place lately, have you?” he asked hopefully.
“I will on Friday if you want to come by,” she promised. “Apple.”
“Is there any other kind?” He slanted a grin in her direction as he slapped the reins on the broad backs of her team. But his eyes held a trace of worry, and Faith was prompted to reassure him.
“I’m all right, Brace. Truly, I am. I’m in the midst of making some decisions, and as soon as I know what I’ll be doing, I’ll let you know my next move.”
“Well,” he said, dragging out the single syllable. “If you’re half as smart as I think you are, that move will be boarding a train and heading east.”
Chapter Fourteen
“My wife tells me we’re about to lose our neighbor.” Nicholas sat down at the table, directing his attention to Faith. Lin and Katie carried serving dishes from the kitchen into the seldom used dining room, and Faith felt their interested looks aimed in her direction as she fumbled for an answer.
Apparently unaware of their interest in the conversation he’d instigated with his neighbor, he eyed Faith in good humor. “You might know you aren’t allowed to have secrets around here, ma’am. Lin couldn’t wait to tell me why we were using the dining room tonight. It seems there’s a celebration at hand.”
Discomfort rose within her, and Faith felt the crimson rush of blood stinging her cheeks. “You’d think this was the first time a woman ever announced the coming of a child,” she said, attempting a light tone and failing miserably.
“Who have you announced it to?” he asked mildly, lifting a dark eyebrow in her direction.
“Not Max, if that’s
what you’re asking,” Faith told him bluntly.
Nicholas leaned back in his chair. “Why not?”
Faith thought his gaze hardened, his mouth growing taut as he awaited her reply.
“I won’t force his hand that way,” she said after a moment.
“You’re not giving him a chance to make any sort of move.”
Lin walked behind Nicholas and placed her hand on his shoulder. His own lifted to cover it, and as Faith watched, he applied pressure, as if to reassure his wife in some way.
“I think we need to eat,” Lin said quietly, sending a small smile in Faith’s direction. “I’m sure this discussion isn’t helping our guest’s digestion.”
Nicholas bowed his head. “I’m sorry. I’ve been rude, Faith.”
“No,” she said quickly. “Just being a man and looking at this from a male viewpoint.” It was a dig she could not resist. He and Max were like two peas in a pod—arrogant and smug in their own magnificence.
“Male viewpoint?” His words foretold his disagreement. “From a father’s eyes, perhaps.” He looked up at Lin. “Sorry, sweetheart, but this needs to be brought out. I don’t think Faith has considered Max’s rights in this issue. The man is going to have a child, or at least his wife is, and he’s totally unaware of it.” His jaw moved and his gaze flashed with a dangerous light. “If Faith were my wife, I’d feel betrayed that she thought so little of me, not allowing me to be aware of the most wonderful news a man can hear.”
Brace stood in the doorway, his eyes fastened on Faith, and she felt his gaze warm her. “I think we need to give the lady the benefit of the doubt,” he drawled. “She’s working things out. Leaving everything she’s accomplished in her life over the past years is a big decision to make. She’s gonna have to make up her mind where her future lies, I think.”
Nicholas slanted a look at the lawman. “Poaching, Sheriff?”
Texas Gold (Mills & Boon Historical) Page 23
