“Oh, my goodness, Mr. Elliott. You must be starved,” Jane insisted, parting a path to a room farther back into the house. “Won’t you let me get you something to eat?”
The sight of all the plates of food on the heavy-laden kitchen table was enough to tempt anyone. The great room in the front of the house may have been decorated to please her father, but she was the master of this room. Everything matched. Everything had a particular place. She would make Sears, Roebuck proud with her ability to accessorize. Everything looked color-coordinated and meticulously arranged as if she were arranging them to paint them as art.
The pot of whatever spicy beef had drawn him and Anna into the ranch earlier bubbled at the giant hearth that held several small pots, as well. At least they wouldn’t go hungry for a while. Still James didn’t think he could eat a morsel until he knew Anna was safely inside. “I’ll wait for Anna if you don’t mind, but please feed Jack for me.”
Jane let go of James’s arm and took the one-eyed dog from Bess, who followed close behind them, setting him down on the floor. Jack immediately ran over to the stack of logs meant to replenish the hearth and hiked his leg.
“No, boy,” James admonished, but Jack continued to mark his territory. James offered Miss Henton a look of apology. “I’m sorry, miss. He’s been cold for hours with nowhere to . . . well, I would be happy to remove the logs from the house, if you’ll just show me your back door.”
She laughed and bent down to scratch Jack’s back. “The logs will burn that off just fine. We sometimes burn cow chips in here, if necessary. No need to concern yourself.”
Jack growled as if he wasn’t at all happy about the prospect.
“Here, boy, that ought to console you.” Jane grabbed a tasty-looking rib from a platter of meat. “Go curl up somewhere and enjoy yourself.”
The dog took the rib and trotted off to the braided rug that lay in front of the great hearth. He stretched his tiny body, shot James a sidelong glance, then gave all his attention to the bone.
“How about we see to your hand, then, if you won’t eat?” Jane insisted, motioning James over to a basin used to wash dishes. “We can at least get it cleaned up and see how bad it is. You wash and I’ll get my friend Marjorie to fetch some tincture of arnica and bandages from the medicine closet. Bess,” she motioned to her guest, “go find Marjorie and tell her to meet me at the medicine cabinet.”
The heat from the hearth was melting the chill from James’s bones, and some of the tension of the day eased from his shoulders. At least taking care of his hand gave him time away from the crowd’s curiosity. He untied the bandanna with a small amount of difficulty, since he had to do it one-handed, then set the bandanna to the side. He immediately looked the other direction, concentrating on the pitcher near the basin that offered water to pour over the wound. He did his best to pour and not look, but it stung like daggers jabbing into his hand. He gritted his teeth and bore through the pain. The injury wasn’t anything he hadn’t suffered before, because he was clumsy at times. Maybe Anna would help him with the stitching.
The thought of her touching him made James wish the men who were helping her would hurry up. The waiting was thrumming in his ears, making his head hurt. He didn’t think it was the liquor wearing off, but it could have been. He hoped he didn’t smell like the amount they had drunk. It was bad enough that Jack had urinated on him while he lay in the snow. He probably should have asked them to bring in a change of clothes from his saddlebags, but that had seemed a selfish request when all that mattered was that Anna got in safely. He should have gone out there to get her. A man worth his salt wouldn’t have stayed inside while his woman was in danger. An extraordinary man would have.
His woman? When had he started thinking of Anna as his?
She’s accustomed to those kind of men, he reminded himself . Strong, confident, take charge and get things done kind of men. So be one yourself. Prove that you might not have been born a Texan but you are willing to learn to be one.
Careful not to look at the cloth for fear of catching sight of blood, he washed out the bandanna and spread it over the mantel that rose above the cooking hearth. Once it was dry, it would add some warmth around Anna’s neck.
James was drying his hand when Jane returned with tincture and bandages and a red-haired girl in tow. “I brought you a needle and a nurse to stitch you up in case you need it,” she said. “Marj helps out at the orphanage with the kids. She knows how to make it hurt less.”
“No thank you, both. I’ll take care of that in a while. Could you do something else for me instead?”
It was then he noticed both had the same color eyes, and each set looked eager to help.
“Would you mind finding something warm for Anna to wear? I’m afraid she’s cold to the bone, and her clothing is wet from all the snow.”
“I love dress-up.” Marjorie rocked back on the heel of her kid boots. “We could put her in something blue to match her eyes, and she’d look just lovely with her hair combed out of that braid she always wears. I never have been able to tell if it’s curly or straight as a—”
“You know you like a good challenge of any kind,” Jane teased. “Some of my mother’s old trunks should have something her size.” She blinked once, then twice, an edge of sadness taking away some of the sparkle that had been in the hazel depths only moments ago. “But I haven’t been able to pick up the key to them since we lost her just last winter.”
Marjorie patted Jane’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry, Janie. I’ll do all the unlocking and moving stuff. You just do the choosing. You’re the one with the eye for fashion. If it was me, I’d just pick something fun that would cause a stir!”
James nodded his appreciation. “Thank you for everything, ladies. For the bandages, the loan of the dress, but mostly for welcoming us in.”
“It’s no bother at all.”
“Anna says you’re a real friend to her, Jane.”
“So is Marj.”
“She’s the real friend to a lot of us, and most of them don’t even know it,” Marjorie added. “And what’s worse is, they don’t want to know it.”
“She won’t let us tell them anything about her.”
“What do you mean?” Marjorie insisted. “What has she told you that she hasn’t told me?”
“That’s not my secret to share.” Jane frowned at her friend. “If she wants you to know, she’ll tell you herself when she’s ready.”
“Why is she so disliked?” James tried to ease the tension that seemed to be growing between the pair.
“She told you that much?” Jane sounded surprised. “That must have been quite a journey you two had today. It took me two years to get her to open up to me.”
“I noticed the look on some of the faces when I said that I rode in with Anna.” James pilfered a cookie from the table and took a bite. A taste of cinnamony heaven slid down his throat. “I’m afraid I’m well aware when company is trying to be too polite. Yet the men didn’t hesitate to go with your father to rescue her.”
Hearing footsteps from beyond the kitchen door, Jane looked embarrassed. “I’m afraid we may be taking too long and everyone’s getting curious about our delay. But to answer you before we go, I think the men were eager to help so they could have a moment alone with her away from the women.” She continued in a conspiratorial whisper, “They’re probably going to ask her not to reveal whatever they do in the Rusty Bucket—her saloon. They’re most likely afraid she’ll tell some of their Saturday-night secrets. But if they knew her at all, they’d know she wouldn’t gossip about other people. Even though it seems some in this community are bent on spinning yarns about her.”
“Besides, she barely remembers anyone’s name half the time. She ends up calling us all whatever’s on her mind at the moment.”
James could relate. He had been Trey or the Third or just Third since he’d been with her. Not once had she said his real name. “Why do they feel the need to target her?”
&nb
sp; “Partly because she’s a woman of means and doesn’t rely on anyone but herself to provide for her needs. Partly because she remains unmarried in a territory full of men who want to marry her.” Jane’s eyes shared a glance with Marjorie’s that hinted she might be holding something back. “Mainly because someone heard a little of why she came to Kasota and couldn’t wait to twist the tale so out of proportion that it couldn’t be fixed unless Anna spoke up to unravel the mystery of it all. She’s stubborn and acts like it doesn’t matter what they say about her, but I think it hurts her very deeply.”
“Do either of you know the truth?”
“No, not me.” Marj waved her gloved palms as if warding off an advance. “If I know the truth about something, far be it from me not to tell it. Everybody in town would know it if I did. Not that I’m a gossiper or anything. I just don’t like to lie.”
“I don’t need to know it.” Jane’s chin lifted defiantly. “I’m a schoolteacher, and I’m always handling arguments between children. And that’s all this gossip about Anna or anyone else is, in my opinion. Adults acting like children being tattletales. What does it matter what she’s done? I don’t know any of us who are perfect, do you? The right or wrong of her past is her own business, not yours, mine, or anyone else’s, Mr. Elliott.”
“Call me . . . Trey. Anna does.” Maybe Jane was right. Truth belonged to the person living it. It was Anna’s to decide who to share it with and when to reveal it, if ever.
Maybe this was the real reason his and Anna’s paths had crossed. Maybe she was meant to save him from the false life he led trying to become something perfect instead of finding happiness in what he was now. Maybe there was worth in discovering Trey Elliott, mistakes and all. “Everyone has secrets and reasons for them, ladies,” he admitted. “Maybe all we can do is hope they’re like Christmas gifts—hidden for a while, then treasured when revealed.”
“I know you’re right, sir. And I also know that my guests better not push Anna too far,” Jane forewarned, “or she’ll show them just how truly naughty she can be.”
Chapter 4
Anna waded through the river of white, the weight of the extra blanket that Newpord Henton had brought to warm her more cumbersome than helpful in her effort to reach the ranch house. The men had put her in front of them to edge her way up the guideline that now stretched from the barn to the main house. She felt like a grounded goose leading a formation of men behind her. Their thoughtfulness had been so she would find safety first, but it left her to battle the fierceness of the wind without any sort of human blockade to stave off some of its intensity. Occasionally the wind lifted the snow in whirling eddies, giving her moments of vision, but a white blast of hell wailed in madness through the unobstructed zone between the barn and the house, flinging swirls of driven snow and ice into her face and body.
Blasts of fury hit her from both sides, catching her off balance. She fell backward and the rope suddenly went slack. She instantly prayed she hadn’t broken the whiskey bottles she had tied around her waist and legs.
“Did it break?”
They mean the rope, she told herself, not the bottles. She heard the sound of doom in the question asked from behind her, knowing if the rope had broken, she and all the men who followed might very well die out here just yards away from the house. The Murrays had met such a fate last winter. And they’d been feet away from safety. The blizzard had disoriented them, so bitter cold that it had frozen them until they were found a month later when the snows cleared.
She desperately inhaled, cold rushing through her nose and throat and stinging her with an iciness that hurt to the bone. Blistering wind sealed her eyelashes together with ice. Anna scrambled to her feet, clawing her way through the snow, grasping for the rope and praying that it still held.
Move. She willed herself into action. You will not die. You will not let these men die. Rope or no rope. “Hang on to my coat. Tell the next man to hang on to yours,” she yelled. “The rope will hold or I will.”
She couldn’t tell if any bottle had broken. If it had, the liquor would have frozen the instant it soaked her clothing. If she was cut anywhere, she couldn’t tell if it simply wasn’t the icy wind making everything sting.
Suddenly the guideline pulled taut, jerking Anna forward and causing air to barrel from her lungs. She barely had time to suck in another breath before the rope moved forward on its own, inch by slow inch. They were being pulled toward the house!
“They’re trying to pull us in!” she shouted back to the men. “They know we’re in trouble.”
Grunts of sheer effort echoed the men’s approval behind her as they lent themselves to moving up the rope. Glove over glove passed along the guideline spurring their effort to reach their rescuers, forcing Anna to move faster than she thought possible.
Light beckoned from ahead. Shapes took human form in a doorway. Tears of gratitude moistened her eyes, making them burn worse from the bitter cold. Her teeth rattled like wagon wheels being driven over old bones. Every joint in her body felt as if it were being shaken loose, but by God’s mercy they were going to make it in alive.
An avalanche of snow rushed over her head as the arms of the man standing in the doorway pulled her into his embrace.
“Anna, thank God, you’re all right,” the Third whispered as he gripped her tightly.
“Move,” she whispered, wanting nothing more than to linger there and feel the sincerity of his welcome, but the others were not inside yet.
Trey immediately let go of her and helped with the next man and the next. When the last one found safety from the cold and the door shut behind them, a shout of victory echoed over the crowd.
Dusting the snow from his hat, Newpord Henton was the first to speak. “Whose idea was it to form a tug line at the door?”
Jane, who had been working behind Trey, pushed on Trey’s back, making him move forward. “Mr. Elliott’s, Father. He was worried it was taking too long and he meant to go out there himself. I suggested that he couldn’t possibly grip the line with that hurt hand, but he insisted and flung open the door. It was just then that he saw the line go slack and managed to grab it anyway.” She motioned toward his hand. “I think he’s hurt himself all over again, tugging as hard as he did to get you all inside. We ladies tried to help all we could, but he took the brunt of the strain.”
“Then I say we owe this young man a depth of gratitude and our lives.” Newpord held his Stetson over his heart as if giving a solemn oath. “Ask anything of us and it’s yours, Mr. Elliott.”
Trey held out the edges of his coat. “If I could borrow some old clothes so these could dry, we can call it even.”
“Help us get this rope off and I can do better than that,” Anna said, holding up the end of the rope that still attached her to the others. “I brought some of your clothes out of your saddlebags.”
All of a sudden a dozen hands mixed into the fray of unknotting the guideline from around each of them. Several bottles slid down her legs and onto the floor before Anna could think to warn the helpers to be careful with her end. Luckily none of them shattered.
“Oops,” she whispered, noticing several hems moving backward to step out of the way of the whiskey bottles. She picked them up and handed them to Newpord. “I thought I’d bring a party favor or two. It might help keep the old juices ginning if the firewood runs low.”
“You bet it will, Miss Ross.” Their host helped her gather the bottles, then set them on the sideboard near the punch.
Anna peeled off the layer of blanket and held out the fresh white shirt and black woolen trousers she had found rolled up in Trey’s saddlebags. “Jane, could you show him some place to change?”
Jane grabbed both their hands and led them toward the staircase. “Father, if you’ll show Mr. Elliott the study, he can change there. Marjorie and I will take Anna with us to my room.” She faced the rest of her guests. “If you folks will excuse us a while, we’ll be down as soon as possible, and, Luke,” she nod
ded at one of the ranch hands who had helped with putting away the team, “you and the boys hang your coats up in the mudroom so they can dry faster. There are towels and some grooming things to freshen up with, if you like. I’m sure some of the ladies will have hot mugs of cider waiting for you when you’re finished.”
Anna allowed herself to be tugged up the stairs and into Jane’s elaborate bedroom. The beauty of the room matched the loveliness of its owner. Trails of ivy interspersed with yellow daffodils swept upward to form a bright, cheery cloth that covered the walls. A four-poster bed, green and white cushioned settee, and chiffonier made of deep mahogany added a look of rich luxury. A low fire burned in the fireplace, making the room toasty and welcoming.
Anna sat on the bench at the foot of the bed, afraid she might stain anything else. Jane would never say anything about it, but Anna wanted to leave the room with as little mess as possible. “Whew, it’s good to be inside.” She finally breathed a sigh of relief.
“Tell us absolutely everything.” Marjorie sat down beside her while Jane went to the chiffonier and pulled out a beautiful dress made of blue brocade trimmed in gold lace. “How did you meet him? How old is he?” the redhead asked. “Is he marri—?”
“Whoa, Marj.” Anna laughed at her friend’s curiosity. “I haven’t even got one shoe off yet.”
“Oh, sorry.” The nurse bounced on the seat as if she had a burr in her bottom, tapping her foot while Anna took off both shoes.
“I can’t wear that.” Anna shook her head as Jane placed the blue dress on the bed beside her. “That was your mother’s.”
“Don’t think for one minute she wouldn’t have made you wear it herself if she were here. It’s warm, it’s pretty, and it matches your hair and eyes. Besides, my clothes are too small for you and you can’t just sit here and let your clothes dry. I don’t care how much you don’t want to go back down there.”
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