by Kaki Warner
The cattle, Declan’s sixty-seven plus Parker’s fifty-two, herded by the three boys, Parker’s two hands, Thomas, and Amos Hicks, had already left. Declan would follow with the ladies and Brin in the buckboard, which was already loaded with extra water, blankets, slickers and coats, three baskets of food Pru and Edwina had prepared, and enough rifles and ammunition to hold off an army.
“Expecting trouble?” Edwina asked when Declan lifted her into the driver’s box and she saw the weaponry stacked under the bench seat.
“You never know,” he answered evasively.
It was barely dawn when they finally rolled out of the yard, Rusty yapping at the horses’ heels and Chick waving them off.
This time they took a lower route through the valley, avoiding Satan’s Backbone, the high, narrow track that had so bothered Declan when they’d come through in April, so it was all new scenery to Edwina. And just as beautiful, but in a different way. With spring grass coming in, herds of elk grazed the rolling hills, while deer stayed close to the brushy border along the winding creek, browsing on leaves and twigs. Occasionally they spotted a bear, but always at a distance, and once, up high on a rocky slope, they saw a small herd of buff-colored sheep.
For the first few miles Brin chattered excitedly. Then as the morning stretched on, yawns began to overcome her, and Pru made a bed with the blankets Declan had sent and suggested she rest for a while. Soon the two of them were dozing peacefully as the wagon rolled along within sight of the cattle, but not close enough to be bothered by their dust.
Edwina glanced at her husband, thinking how different this trip was from the one they’d taken out of Heartbreak Creek less than a month before. He wasn’t so frightening to her now. And the future didn’t look quite so dark. And she didn’t feel as out of her element as she had then.
Was it she who had changed so much? Or had he become less disapproving and more approachable?
Lifting her face to the chill morning air, she breathed in the tangy scent of junipers and pines and early spring wildflowers. “It’s a beautiful morning,” she said in a low voice, so as not to awaken the sleepers.
“It is.” Declan turned his head and looked at her, that infrequent smile teasing his mouth. “And you’re looking right pretty, yourself, Ed.”
Definitely less disapproving. She smiled back, enjoying this side of her husband. With so many people in and out of the house, and with Declan gone so much of the time, moments alone with him had been few and far between.
He must have felt the same way. Shooting a glance at the pair sleeping in the back of the wagon, he motioned for her to come nearer.
Curious, Edwina leaned over until her shoulder almost brushed his.
“Closer.”
She inched across the wooden seat until her arm rested against his. “What?” she whispered.
Instead of answering, he tipped his head to the side so his hat cleared her bonnet, and pressed his lips to hers.
Startled, Edwina froze. His heat engulfed her. She smelled horses. Tasted coffee. Felt the scrape of whiskers and the whisper of warm breath against her cheek.
After what seemed like forever, yet much too soon, her husband drew back. “Well,” he said with a deep sigh. “Finally.” His grin was broad and dazzling as he turned back to the road.
Finally, indeed.
Edwina had been kissed before. Heavens, she’d been married before. But none of the ardent kisses of her childhood swains, or even the awkward kisses Shelly had given her, caused quite the ruckus inside her chest that Declan’s did. Why? What was different? Or had she just been rattled by the suddenness of it?
She needed to know.
“Do that again,” she ordered. And closing her eyes, she puckered her lips and lifted her face.
A burst of soft laughter fanned her cheeks.
Startled, she opened her eyes and drew back to find her husband struggling to hold his merriment in check. “What?” she asked, feeling a rush of heat into her face. Lord, he must think me an utter ninny.
“You confound me, Ed,” he said, shaking his head. “You keep me off balance and stumbling around like a starving dog in a butcher shop. I never know what you’re going to say or do next.”
Not sure how to take that but unwilling to let him see her confusion, she tried to brazen it out with a bright smile and a nonchalant wave of her hand. “Well, you are somewhat dense,” she said blithely. “As I recall, when we first met, you were struggling to keep track of the days of the week.”
She might have said more, but suddenly his free arm came around her shoulders and pulled her tight against his side.
He kissed her again. And this kiss wasn’t as tentative or tender as the one before. And it lasted longer. And it awakened tingles inside her that were a yard away from where their mouths touched.
“Oh,” she said in a breathless voice when he finally released her.
“Oh?”
“Oh, my.” She struggled to pull air into her fluttery lungs. “That was much better.”
Which sent him into silent laughter again.
They rode without speaking for a time. Edwina wondered if he would kiss her again, and if he did, should she allow it, and decided she would. But he didn’t, which was strangely disappointing. So using the excuse of brushing a pine needle from her skirt, she inched back to her side of the seat, then cast about in her addled mind for something to say that would show she was as unmoved by the kiss as he appeared to be. “The clerk at the hotel said you were once the sheriff in Heartbreak Creek.”
He nodded. “For almost three years. ’Sixty-three to ’sixty-six. Brin was born there.”
“Why did you quit?”
His expression hardened. He didn’t answer.
“Is that when you bought the ranch?”
“I bought the ranch before I was sheriff.”
“You did? When?”
“In ’fifty-eight, the year R.D. was born. You sure ask a lot of questions.”
“But why did you take on the role of sheriff when you had a ranch?”
She thought he wasn’t going to answer. When he finally did, his voice was as flat and expressionless as Thomas’s, and his features had lost animation as effectively as if a mask had dropped over his face. “My wife wanted to live in town. She needed more . . . people around her.”
Edwina studied him, hoping he would say more. When it became apparent he had said all he was going to, she tried a different subject. After glancing back to be sure there were no listeners, she leaned toward him to whisper. “Brin reminds me daily that her birthday is coming up. Have you planned anything yet?”
His brows rose. “Planned anything?”
“A celebration of some sort. A gathering.”
“A gathering?”
Realizing he had no idea what she was talking about, she tried another tack. “Gifts, then. Have you gotten her a gift?”
“I, ah . . .”
“You haven’t. Oh, Declan.” She sighed. “You must get her something while we’re in town.”
“Okay. Sure.” A pause. “Like what?”
Dense as granite. “You decide. Any other birthdays coming up?”
He thought for a moment. “R.D.’s is next month. Or is that Lucas? I’ll check the family Bible when we get back. I think it’s R.D., though.”
“I’m sewing her a dress.”
That look of befuddlement again. “A dress? For Brin? Why?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Declan, Brin is a girl. And girls need dresses.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re girls!” Lord.
He stared down the road in thought. “But where would she wear it?”
“Wherever she wants.” Striving for patience, she added in a low voice, “The point is, Declan, girls need dresses because they’re frilly and feminine, and because pretty things make girls feel pretty.”
“I doubt it’ll work that way with Brin.” And he went on to tell her of his daughter’s lifelong amb
ition to be a buffalo hunter, or an army scout, or a mountain trapper. “In fact, I don’t think she’s ever had a real dress.”
Edwina was aghast. “Didn’t her mother ever dress her in one?”
That shuttered look again. “Her mother left when she was two.”
Left? An odd way of saying died or passed on. Edwina studied him as an awful thought bounced through her mind. What if the woman wasn’t dead? What if she was out there somewhere?
If so, then Edwina’s marriage to Declan wouldn’t even be real.
Which meant she wouldn’t have to wait another two months, or bother with an annulment. She could leave any time she wanted.
That realization unleashed a cyclone of panic inside her chest. “I thought your first wife died,” she forced herself to say, wondering why the thought of leaving would create such sudden anxiety.
“She did. After she left.”
Edwina waited, but that was all he seemed willing to say.
And she didn’t probe any further.
Nine
Heartbreak Creek seemed even deader than it had during their last visit, probably because it was Sunday afternoon and people were home with their families. Without the distant pounding of mine machinery, the town was eerily quiet. Even the ravens hunched in lethargic silence in the tall firs.
“I’m hungry, Pa,” Brin complained. “When can we eat?”
“What happened to all that food Ed and Miss Lincoln packed?”
“You ate it. Can I get out? I’m tired of sitting.”
“Soon.” A block farther, he pulled up outside the hotel and set the brake. “I’ll see if they’re serving supper,” he said, hopping down. When he returned a few minutes later, Maddie and Lucinda were right behind him.
“Edwina! Prudence!” they called, rushing to the wagon, hardly waiting for Edwina and Pru to step down before gathering around them.
“We have missed you terribly!” Maddie said, hugging each in turn. “And we have such wonderful news! How long will you be in town? Are you staying here? Oh, I’m so delighted to see you.”
Lucinda refrained from gushing, although her green eyes were alight with joy. “Please come in, ladies. We were just planning supper. Will you join us?” Her gaze flicked to Brin, gawking over the side rails, then to Declan, who was climbing back into the wagon. “You’re all welcome, of course.”
Edwina gave her husband a questioning look.
He picked up the reins and released the brake. “I need to check on the cattle. If the boys haven’t eaten, I’ll bring them back if it’s not too late.”
“It won’t be too late,” Maddie assured him. “I’ll make sure there’s plenty of food for whenever you can get here.” She leaned toward Edwina to add in a dramatic whisper, “I share quarters with the new owner, you see.” Seeing Edwina’s look of shock, she laughed. “It’s Lucinda! She bought the hotel! Can you credit that?”
Edwina gaped from one grinning face to the other. “When? Why?”
Still laughing, Maddie shooed them toward the double doors. “Come in and see the miracles she’s wrought, and we’ll tell you all about it.”
“Don’t forget your bag,” Declan called as Edwina started across the boardwalk. Reaching over the seat, he lifted the valise from the wagon bed.
Edwina took it from his grip. “You won’t be long?”
“A couple of hours. By dark at the latest.”
Nodding, Edwina glanced at Brin, who had scrambled onto the bench beside her father. “Would you like to stay with me, Brin?”
“Heck, no.”
Declan frowned at his daughter. He started to speak, but not wanting a scene in front of the others, Edwina cut in. “We’ll see you later, then.” And refusing to let her stepdaughter’s rejection ruin her joy in visiting with her friends again, she pasted on a bright smile and followed Pru inside.
Miracles indeed. Fresh paint instead of peeling wallpaper, clean windowpanes, polished woodwork, sparkling sconces, and not a single cobweb on the chandelier gracing the lobby. If she hadn’t recognized the old man wearing the tailored suit and showing stained teeth who was watching them from behind the front desk, she might not have known it was Mr. Yancey and this was the same hotel she had stayed in a month ago.
“Oh, Lucinda. Everything looks so grand.”
Maddie beamed proudly. “That’s what I tell her, but she still insists there’s more to do.”
“Hardly grand,” Lucinda scoffed, although Edwina detected a note of pride in her voice. “But at least it’s clean. And once the fabric for the new drapes comes in and the carpets arrive, it’ll be much better. We’re also redoing each room, but that will take a while. Everything has to be shipped in, and with the railroads threatening a new route, things are a bit muddled. Here, let me send up your bag in case you want to freshen up. Billy?”
The same freckle-faced boy who had been here before rushed over. But this time, instead of patched overalls and unruly auburn hair, he wore a smart uniform with gold braces and brass buttons, and a fresh haircut. After directing him to carry the valise to the room next to the Presidential Suite, Lucinda said, “So, how do you like my new enterprise, Pru?”
“I’m most impressed. I can see you’ve worked very hard.”
Edwina nodded in agreement, thinking Lucinda must have had a fortune hidden inside that carpetbag she had guarded so vigilantly. “But why here in Heartbreak Creek?”
“Why not? I have to be from somewhere, don’t I? Besides,” she added, one corner of her wide mouth tipping up in a crooked smile, “if I can convince the railroad to reroute through Heartbreak Creek, this dismal little town might become quite prosperous once again.”
Edwina grinned. “Which will make you prosperous as well?”
“Exactly.”
“Reroute?” Pru asked.
As Lucinda led them into the dining room, she explained that washouts were a common problem along the current route, and if the tracks came through Heartbreak Creek instead, the railroad wouldn’t have to redo the trestle and culverts every spring. “But you’ve tasted the water,” she added with a shake of her head. “So you can see why the railroad might be hesitant to come through this area.” Stopping beside a window with a lovely view of the mountains, she directed them to a cozy table topped with a spotless cloth and a vase of fragrant spring lilacs. “Will this do?”
“It’s perfect,” Edwina said.
As they took their seats, a young woman still in her teen years and wearing a starched white apron over a serviceable black dress rushed over. “Hidy, ma’ams,” she said in a breathless voice. “What’ll you have?”
“Miriam,” Lucinda said softly.
“Oh. Sorry.” Clearing her throat, the woman put on a wobbly smile, dipped a half curtsy, and said, “How may I serve you today, ladies?”
Lucinda nodded approval and asked Miriam to bring a plate of assorted cheeses and fruit, and tea for each. After the woman dashed off, Lucinda gave an apologetic smile. “We’re still in training. But at least with the town offering such limited employment opportunities, we should have plenty of workers to fill our needs. Now where was I?”
“The water,” Pru supplied, no doubt being the only one, other than Lucinda and the railroad engineers, who had any interest or understanding of the water requirements of steam locomotives.
“Ah, yes. Our nasty water.” And launching into a lengthy description of the damage harsh minerals can do to locomotives and tenders, Lucinda explained how she was trying to convince the mine owners to stop using the water cannon to blast the ore loose, since that also dissolved other minerals, which were then washed down into the stream that serviced Heartbreak Creek. “That’s why our water is so hard,” she concluded. “It leaves a film on everything, which is quite harmful to the steam engines.”
Pru nodded sagely.
Maddie stared dreamily out the window.
Edwina fought to stay awake.
“But even knowing that,” Lucinda went on, “with production
down and the water cannon being the most efficient way to break out the ore, the owners are naturally reluctant to start a new extraction method at this point.”
“Naturally,” Edwina agreed, her eyes watering from the effort of holding back a yawn.
Luckily Miriam arrived then, wheeling a delicate wicker cart laden with fruit, cheese and crackers, and a lovely china tea set.
Edwina had grown up with the tradition of an afternoon repast, although at Rose Hill they had served chicory coffee instead of tea and brandied fruit compote rather than canned fruit. And as she watched Lucinda load their plates with thin wedges of cheese and sliced canned peaches and shortbread crackers, she realized how much she missed these little niceties, and the companionship of other women, and the ritual and grace of a lovely afternoon tea.
“Now, Edwina,” Maddie began once they were all served, “do tell Lucinda and me how it fares at your husband’s ranch. What is he like? Is he handsome? I was so hoping to meet him.”
“Handsome?” Edwina dabbed her napkin to her lips to hide a smile. “You tell me. You’ve seen him. Twice, in fact.” At Maddie’s look of surprise, she laughed. “Big Bob is my husband. Robert Declan Brodie, although he prefers Declan.”
“Oh, my,” Lucinda murmured.
“I knew it!” Maddie crowed, shaking a cracker at Lucinda. “Didn’t I tell you? The moment I saw him in the hotel lobby I said, ‘Luce, there’s something about that man. He’s definitely no one’s underling.’ Didn’t I say that?”
“You did.”
Grinning in triumph, Maddie turned back to Edwina. “Well? Is he nice? Does he treat you well? He seemed rather severe.”
“He can be,” Edwina admitted, nodding to Lucinda’s offer of more tea. “But that’s just his way. And yes, he treats me well. But the children . . .” She sighed. “They’ve been rather a challenge, to say the least.”
“Oh, they’re coming around,” Pru said. “Remember, they’ve been years without a mother.”
“Yes, we heard the gossip,” Maddie said.
“Oh?” Edwina set down her teacup. “What gossip?”
