Tad reached for her reins and pulled them both up short. “I’m glad you’re here, Rebecca, but at the same time, I was none too pleased. I wanted to protect you, but you wouldn’t trust me. I thought you knew you could count on me.”
She’d known it the minute she first saw him, when he drew on his coat as he hurried to meet her at the stagecoach stop in front of the Idaho Hotel. She’d felt in her bones that he was trustworthy, and she’d been drawn to him. Despite her efforts, she was drawn to him still.
It was his face she’d thought of in the mine. His voice she’d wanted to hear. Not Theodore’s, not anyone else’s.
She had begged God to uproot that yearning before it spread through her like a wild plant, but it hadn’t happened. Now, it seemed she would spend the rest of her life asking His help to weed out every shoot of longing for Tad Fordham that popped up through the cracks of her heart.
He had a duty to the county and the people of this town, and they needed him. But her need for him hurt too much. If she let herself love him and something happened to him, that ache would swallow her whole.
She’d made her decision. Now she only had to see it through.
“Trusting you has never been the problem.”
If trust wasn’t the issue, what was it? Tad swung down from Solomon and reached for Rebecca. “Come down for a minute.”
She slid into his arms, small and sweet. The moment her boots hit the ground, though, her gaze fixed on his temple, not his eyes. “Longbeard was right, your ear is bleeding worse than I thought. It’s just a cut, though. Want me to bandage it now?”
“No. I want to talk, and not about my ear. Or what happened at the mine.”
She plopped the bundled dish towel of sundries at her feet. “That’s the difference between us, because you can stop thinking about it, but I can’t. I keep thinking of Flick shoving you to the edge of the cliff.”
“But everyone’s fine.” Surely she understood that today had been a success.
“Flick Dougherty isn’t fine, and you’re bruised and dripping blood on your Sunday shirt.” She tugged her bonnet from her neck, crumpling it in her hands. “I was so angry at you when Johnny was taken.”
“The way you’re standing, I’m not sure you’re over it.” Her arms crossed over her chest and her feet pointed toward Patches, not at Tad.
“It isn’t you I was really angry at. There are a dozen things sticking in my craw, like my inability to keep my loved ones safe. I’m sorry I lashed out at you, Tad.”
“Truth be told, I was angry, too. I wanted you to accept that you can’t control everything, and sometimes, no one is to blame.” He took a deep breath. “Theodore wasn’t keen on you nursing, and you insisted he accept you for the way you are. I can’t help but feel you’re guilty of holding the same type of grudge against me.”
Her dry, cracked lips popped open, but she didn’t protest. “You’re right, but nursing didn’t rip his family apart, it just offended his sensibilities. There’s a difference.”
True. He dug a divot in the dirt with his toe. He’d been awake for over twenty-four hours now, desperately needed a pot of coffee, and was probably as stinky as a hog in a mud puddle. But all he wanted to do was cup the back of Rebecca’s head and kiss those dry lips until she told him she didn’t love Theodore and could get over her problems marrying a lawman.
Instead, he returned to his earlier words. “You can trust me, Rebecca.”
It was the best he could say, because telling her he loved her wouldn’t matter if she didn’t trust him.
“I’ve always trusted you, Tad, even when I didn’t really know you yet. But you can do all you can to stay safe, and you could still be pushed off the edge of a cliff by the next Flick Dougherty, or shot, or….” She shrugged. “I can’t worry about you anymore. I know it’s something that needs healing in me, but I can’t promise I’ll ever change my mind about someone I love going into the law. If Johnny did, I’d—well, I don’t like thinking of it.” Her laugh was brittle. “I can’t live with this type of fear.”
Her admission that she fretted over him pleased a little but mostly burned, because of the finality in her voice. She wanted the annulment, and there was no more discussion about it. He’d heard her words before. His heart just hadn’t wanted to believe them.
“Theodore is a good man.”
“This isn’t about Theodore.” She looked down at her boots. “He’s always been part of this, but my wound won’t be healed by him. I’ve discovered that loving people, no matter what kind of love it is, is scary, because I can’t keep anyone safe. Not even me.”
“I’ve tried to protect you.” And failed.
“But nobody can protect anyone. You said it yourself, remember? Theodore could get hurt. So could Johnny or your pa. Any of us. But I still have to try to be safe, and at the same time I have to let people be who they’re supposed to be.”
He understood then. If he continued serving as a deputy, she’d be worried sick. If he quit for her—a thought that hadn’t occurred to him until this minute—he’d be denying a part of himself and his calling. She feared he’d come to resent anyone who kept him from being who he was.
They stood quiet after that, listening to the chip-chips of birds and the soft snuffles of the horses grazing in the grass. There was nothing more to say or do, short of getting down on his knee and begging her to change her mind and not worry anymore and stay married to him, but that wasn’t what she wanted. She’d chosen Theodore.
He wouldn’t stand in the way a minute longer. He loved her enough to see her happy.
“Let’s finish those errands, shall we?”
Her smile didn’t wrinkle the outer edges of her eyes, but she put her hand in his outstretched one and allowed him to help her back into the saddle.
He’d ride to Silver City tomorrow and retrieve the judge. He’d probably also find an excuse to be running errands for the sheriff the day Rebecca married Theodore.
They’d just dismounted at the livery when Ulysses poked inside. “There you folks are.”
Rebecca rummaged through the dish towel, withdrew an object, and pressed a yellow lump in Ulysses’s dirty paw. “Is this yours?”
He gasped. “It’s my tooth!”
“I thought so. Oh my.” She jerked back when Ulysses shoved the unwashed tooth into his gums. “Will it stay there?”
Tad wondered the same thing.
“Sometimes. The little prong fits in a hole in my gums.” Ulysses smiled, revealing an awkward flash of gold on the lower right side. “Can I give you a kiss?”
She let him, offering her cheek. Tad loved her a little more in that moment, and even more when they searched out the Evanses’ tent to return Eloise’s five dollars, and then at Mrs. Horner’s to ask if the lace was what she’d ordered and lost, and then the barbershop to return Wilkie’s stethoscope. Then they stopped in to the county office, where men gathered with talk of burying Flick while the sheriff crammed Bowe and his fighting friends in one cell so Ralph and Skeet could languish in the second.
“I want to be with my wife,” Ralph insisted.
“I’ll miss you, sweetheart,” Dottie called from the closet.
Rebecca strode straight to the first cell. “Bowe?”
He spun around and offered a smooth smile that had probably charmed countless females from here to El Paso. “I like the trousers.”
“Keep your eyes on my face, if you please.” She pulled the last item from the dish towel, an image of a younger Bowe, his features unmistakable under slicked-back hair, with two women who looked to be a mother and grandmother. “I think this is yours.”
Bowe snatched it through the bars. “My carte de visite. I didn’t think I’d ever see it again.”
Tad would be dunked in a horse trough if Bowe didn’t tear up. “Thank her proper-like for saving it for you, after all you did to her.”
“Thank you.” No flirting. No bravado. Just a whisper.
“You’re welcome.” Rebec
ca’s hands went to her hips. “Now quit brawling and doing things that’ll get you arrested again, Bowe, or you might lose that photograph for good next time.”
“You sound like my grandmammy.” Bowe chuckled.
Rebecca turned to Tad. “I’m ready now.”
Tad guided her away out of the cells and through the main office, his hand inches from the small of her back. His heart beat heavy and fast with admiration for her, and with grief because he knew where things stood between them.
He couldn’t put off the inevitable, so once they were outside on the street, he tipped his hat. “Good-bye, Rebecca.”
“Good-bye, Tad.”
They stood there too long for their good-bye to mean anything but a forever farewell. At last she turned and walked to the mercantile.
She’d be safe there. That was where she belonged.
Rebecca stomped the dust off her boots and stepped into the mercantile. No customers perused the shelves, leaving Rebecca free to take in the familiar sight of the store. Tidy shelves, as neat as the proprietor himself, bespoke order, civility, and comfort.
She wanted those things so badly that it ached.
Theodore popped through the gray curtain and grinned. “You’re back. I was on guard duty when the sheriff came back, and heard all about it. Come back and have a seat. I have coffee on the stove. Fresh pot.”
“Thank you. It smells wonderful.” She followed him to the office. He poured her a mug, and she sat in the spare chair by the desk, taking a sip. “It tastes wonderful, too.”
“Pioneer Steam Coffee and Spice and Mills, of course.”
Rebecca met his hazel gaze. Such a nice-looking face, on a nice man who was everything she’d ever thought she’d wanted.
But he was not what she needed.
“I can’t marry you, Theodore.”
“I understand.”
Just like that? “Theodore—”
“I care about you, Rebecca. I always have, from the first letters we exchanged.” His gaze dropped. “You’d had a tough lot, and even though we won’t wed, I’m glad I could help you find a better life.”
Why was he being so kind? She’d expected anger or disapproval, not this easy acceptance.
“I’ll never be able to thank you enough, Theodore. And I cared about you, too. I loved receiving your letters. They were the brightest parts of my week.” She swiped a hot tear from her cheek.
“So you’re staying married to Tad?” He didn’t sound the least bit upset about it. Instead, he passed her his spotless, crisp handkerchief.
She shook her head, patting her cheek with his clean hankie. “I’d be lying if I said I don’t have…feelings for him, but this isn’t about him. I tried to honor my commitment to you, Theodore.”
“We haven’t been engaged for a month, as you recall. It wasn’t proper for you to be engaged and married at the same time.” Bless him, he laughed. She never thought she’d see the day when he found humor in their situation.
She couldn’t quite join him, though. “I never wanted him to come between us, or for me to come between the two of you.”
“I’m the one who put you in the middle of my feud with Tad, just like I did with Dottie. I’m sorry for that. I should’ve treated you better.”
“You were kind to me, Theodore.”
“But not as kind as I should have been, if you were to be my wife. Over the past few days, I’ve realized I had ample time to court you while we waited for the annulment. I cared more about expense and convenience than I did about your brother. I wanted things to be a certain way, and it bothered me that they weren’t. The truth is, I was more aggrieved over the principle of the circumstances than the events themselves, more frustrated my cousin had a tie to the woman I planned to marry than I was about Tad, who was once like my brother, falling head over heels for a wonderful gal like you. Once I saw that, I realized I’d never developed the sort of feelings I wanted to have for the gal I married, and I knew you and I wouldn’t suit. But I wasn’t going to abandon you, Rebecca. I made a promise and I would have kept it.”
“So you don’t want to marry me, either?” When he shook his head, she swiped another tear away. “You’re an honorable man, Theodore.” If mistaken. Tad wasn’t head over heels for her, but that wasn’t worth mentioning now.
“I don’t know how honorable it is to be relieved that you called it off.” He cleared his throat. “In fact, it’s quite selfish. Do you know why I answered your advertisement? I wanted a wife, of course, but I wasn’t truly grateful for the people I already had in my life. Last night my eyes opened to that, and I realized I never cottoned to you because there was someone else I’d been overlooking. Someone I’d grown close to, a friend, but I didn’t realize she was so much more. I’m sorry if that hurts you.”
It didn’t, not a pinprick. “I want you to be happy. I may not be your fiancée, but I feel like you’re my family.”
“Well, officially, we’re still cousins.” He chuckled and then sobered. “He’d stop being a lawman for you, I think.”
Tad’s face loomed in her mind, and she collected her thoughts while she took a long pull of the strong coffee. “He’d resent me for making him give up something that’s such a big part of him. I wouldn’t want that between me and my husband.”
“What will you do?” Theodore sat forward. “Put out another matrimonial ad?”
Her head shook. “I may have come here believing I could marry without love, but things are different now. I’m not sure what I’ll do, other than that. Tad told me not too long ago that God would provide, and he was right.”
“You can work at the mercantile, even after I move to Silver City.”
“That’s kind of you, offering me a chance to repay what I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me a thing.”
“My passage west? Replacements for the items the Gang stole? That silver hairbrush cost you a pretty penny.”
“I’m glad I brought you here, Rebecca. You may not be my wife or even my cousin, but you’ll always be my friend.”
At that moment, a warm flower of love for Theodore bloomed in her chest, not the kind between husband and wife, but something good and healthy. She swiped at a fresh round of tears. “Thank you, Theodore.”
The back door pushed open. Cornelia stepped inside carrying a basket and dressed in her old green calico dress, but it had been taken in at the waist, and her hair was pinned in a neat bun at her nape. A flash of something rippled over her face, but in an instant it was replaced by a gentle smile. “I’m glad you’re back, Rebecca. I heard all about your adventure from my pa—but clearly I’m intruding.”
“No.” Rebecca smiled. “We were finished.”
At least, their engagement was. Their friendship, free of expectations, was just beginning.
Cornelia still hesitated. “I brought cookies and a pint of cream for your coffee, Theodore.”
“Thank you, Cornelia. You know I love those cookies.” Theodore carried his mug to the stove. “May I pour you a cup?”
Theodore? Cornelia? What happened to Mr. Fordham and Corny?
Rebecca had been so dense. Cornelia’s initial rough treatment of Rebecca had nothing to do with a fear of losing her job. Cornelia had been jealous because Rebecca was marrying Theodore. When Rebecca talked to her about letting God work, Cornelia’s heart changed and she’d allowed God to work things through.
But that wasn’t all that changed. Theodore had taken notice of his, what had he called her? His friend? Now, however, he gazed at her with rapt fascination.
Rebecca stood. “Cornelia, Theodore, I’ve enjoyed working with you. I wish you the best.”
Cornelia gaped. “You’re quitting the mercantile?”
“I’ll let Theodore tell you the details.” With a parting smile, she slipped out the back door. She had no idea what the future held for her, much less the day, except for heartache over Tad, but she felt more hopeful than she had since her pa was alive.
Johnny w
asn’t at the livery or the county office, so Rebecca returned to the boardinghouse, let Mrs. Horner fuss over her, and then bathed and changed into her red skirt and white shirtwaist. She lay on the bed for ten minutes to rest, stiff as the proverbial plank, before rising again. Maybe Mrs. Horner needed help.
Her landlady, however, was tying the strings on her bonnet. “Did I wake you? I tried to be quiet.”
“I’m too agitated to rest. Is there anything I can do?”
“Supper’s bubbling on the stove, everything’s tidy, and you did something extraordinary for me in bringing me my lace, dear. I’d planned to make curtains with it, but I’ve changed my mind. I think I know just what to do with it,” she said with a mysterious air. “Would you like me to make you some tea to help you sleep?”
“Tea won’t help, I don’t think. I told Theodore I’m not marrying him.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Horner’s eyes went wide. “You do have a lot on your mind, don’t you?”
Rebecca briefly recounted their conversation, focusing on her decision that she and Theodore wouldn’t suit, without mentioning her feelings for Tad or Theodore’s burgeoning romance with Cornelia. “Maybe I should find Johnny. I couldn’t earlier.”
“I saw him through the window a minute ago. He just left the bathhouse. I’m sure he’s at the livery by now. Let’s go down there together, shall we? We can chat while we walk.”
Rebecca allowed Mrs. Horner to take her arm, but confusion clouded her thoughts. “You don’t need to come, too.”
Mrs. Horner locked the door behind them. “But there’s so much to tell you. Half the talk last night at the party—before Dottie and the dynamite, that is—was about moving to Silver City. I decided I’m going to go, too. It won’t be for a few weeks yet, but I want to settle in before the snow comes.”
Would anything be left in Ruby City? Rebecca bit her lip. “I understand. You have to do what’s best for you.”
Mrs. Horner squeezed her arm. “You’ll have a room with me, of course, and you’ll like Silver City. There are more womenfolk, so Ulysses won’t be proposing to you as much.”
My Heart Belongs in Ruby City, Idaho Page 24
