Strategic displays inside the store made it easy to sell items the customer hadn't even realized they needed.
The store had enjoyed more sales this week than it had all of last month, and she’d even filled two special orders for new saddles.
If Lydia had been home, if things had been normal, the increased sales would've been cause for celebration.
With Lydia gone, it felt like too little, too late. Liza had wanted to rescue the family, but her silence had done the opposite.
Would they have to leave Calvin, like they'd left Cottonwood Cove?
She had no answers.
* * *
Rob found them in Rock Springs.
He'd spent over a week asking in every hotel, bordello and tavern in every small town in the area. He finally lucked out when a hotel clerk admitted they'd taken a room upstairs.
It'd been late in the evening, so Rob bided his time and took a room himself.
In the morning, he sat in the hotel restaurant with a view toward the stairwell.
Surprisingly, it was Lydia who descended first. She was alone and looked younger than her seventeen years, hair in a simple bun and wisping around her face. He could see Liza in the shape of her jaw and the bridge of her nose, and a fierce sense of protectiveness rose up.
She caught sight of him and hesitated.
He tried to imagine how Danna's charge, the orphan Katy, would respond and made himself smile. He waved her over.
She came after a slight hesitation.
"Mr. Darcy. What are you doing here?" There was definitely suspicion in her voice and narrowed eyes.
He turned the question back on her. "What are you doing here?"
She took a half step back.
And he heard Liza's voice from his memories. You're highhanded and bossy.
He'd gone about winning Liza all wrong and messed up completely.
This time, he’d take a different approach. Lydia’s future depended on it. And maybe his and Liza’s did, too.
He worked to show a smile, something neutral, something that hid his judgmental thoughts. "It's nice to see a friendly face. Join me for breakfast?"
She almost looked as if she would refuse, but her stomach gurgled.
He pointed to the carafe of coffee and the empty china cup on the opposite side of the table.
She sank into the chair and reached for the carafe immediately.
The waitress brought the breakfast plate he'd ordered to the table, her gaze bouncing between him and Lydia.
He picked up the plate and put it on Lydia's side of the table.
Her eyes widened.
"Bring another?" he asked the waitress, who nodded and hurried off.
Lydia scooped up the fork and began shoveling scrambled eggs into her mouth. More than what was polite.
She picked up the biscuit, not even bothering with butter or jam, and stuffed a bite in her mouth. Her eyes closed momentarily as if she were overcome.
Wickham wasn't feeding her properly, that much was clear.
Upon closer inspection, her dress was slightly wrinkled, and tiny lines fanned from her eyes.
"Are you alone?" he asked bluntly.
She shook her head, mouth still too full to speak.
"Where is Wickham?"
Her eyes flashed, and she put down her fork. It clinked against the fancy china plate.
"There's no use pretending," he said. "I know you ran off with him."
She gripped the edge of the table with both hands and started to stand.
He was making a hash of this. Liza's face flashed in his mind, the devastation she'd shown when she'd read her mother's wire.
"Your family is worried about you."
He was sure she’d storm away but, amazingly, she slumped back into the chair, her eyes filling with tears.
He panicked. He hadn't meant to make her cry. Now what?
She picked up her napkin and sniffled noisily into it.
When she looked up at him, all her suspicion was gone. "I… I thought things would be d-different."
He nodded slowly, carefully. She was like a spooked calf. No sudden movements…
She wiped her cheeks with the napkin. "He s-said we'd be married, but he hasn't looked for a preacher. He goes out in the evenings and leaves me alone... and he's gone all night!"
The waitress was heading their way with his plate of steaming food in hand, but when she saw Lydia, her eyes widened and she turned around, disappearing back into the kitchen with his breakfast.
He held back a sigh. His stomach grumbled its displeasure.
He waited for her to calm down.
She blew her nose noisily into the napkin and lifted wet eyes to him.
"Do you want to go home?" he asked. "I can make that happen."
She shrugged miserably. "I think... I might love him. And we've—"
He lifted his hand to stop her. He didn't want to hear details. "Is he upstairs now?"
She nodded.
"Why don't you finish your breakfast." Since it seemed he wouldn't get any. "And I'll go up and talk to him."
She passed him the key to their room, and he moved through the lobby.
He hesitated at the foot of the stairs. He really didn't want to confront Wickham. The man had betrayed him once already, had proved himself a cad.
But Rob wouldn’t fail Liza.
Upstairs, Rob unlocked the door to the room. The curtains had been pulled, leaving it dim.
Clothes littered the floor, and it stank of body odor.
Wickham snored softly from the bed.
Rob went straight to the windows and pulled back the curtains, letting bright morning sunlight stream into the room.
"Whaa—?"
Wickham rolled in the bed, but his head remained on the pillow.
Rob went to the bed and yanked off the quilt. Luckily, the man wore long johns.
"What the—?" Wickham sat up in bed, saw Rob and scrabbled backwards toward the headboard.
Rob saw the pistol on the dresser and quickly stepped over to pick it up. He held it loosely at his side.
Wickham was rumpled and tussled, and there was a fading bruise beneath one jaw. His eyes were red-rimmed and wary.
"What do you want?" Wickham demanded.
"I want you to do right by that girl weeping into her napkin downstairs."
Wickham's expression turned hard. "What I do with Lydia is none of your business."
Rob took stock of the man. Wickham was right. His life wasn't any of Rob's business.
But Grandfather had seen something in Wickham of value. What had happened to that young man so full of promise?
Was there a glint of vulnerability behind Wickham's hard exterior?
Wickham had betrayed Rob's trust once. Could he find a way to forgive the other man? For Lydia's sake?
For Liza's?
He breathed in deeply, releasing all the bitterness and anger he'd held toward Wickham with one long exhale.
"Is this what you really want for your life?"
Wickham sneered.
"Spending the night in taverns when you have a girl at home who thinks better of you?"
Something shifted behind Wickham's eyes, and Rob could only pray his words were getting through.
"You've done a great job pulling the wool over her eyes," Rob said. "She thinks you're charming and genuine. She loves you."
Wickham frowned. He stood and reached for a pair of trousers on the floor beside the bed, then quickly pulled them on. "I don't see how our relationship is any of your business."
Rob wouldn't let slip that he cared about Liza. Wickham would turn that knowledge to his advantage.
"She deserves better," Rob pressed.
Wickham threw his hands up. "What are you going to do? Aim that pistol at my back all the way to the parson's house?"
It was a tempting thought.
"Or give me a chunk of money as a wedding gift?"
"No. To both." He took a breath, felt Grandfat
her there beside him. "I'm going to give you a chance. Like Grandfather wanted. Like Grandfather did."
Wickham stared at him.
"He saw something good in you. Since he's been gone, I haven't seen a trace of it."
Wickham's expression lost its hint of openness and shifted into something ugly.
Rob continued anyway. "But that doesn't mean you can't have a second chance to be the man Grandfather thought you were. The man that the girl downstairs believes you are." He paced to the wardrobe and put the gun on top of it. "I'm willing to give you a reference. I've got a friend in Idaho looking to hire a couple of cowboys with a chance to be foreman eventually."
Wickham stared at him, suspicion clouding his features. "Why? What's in it for you?"
It would make Liza happy. And that was enough.
"I'll do it for Grandfather." He leveled a finger on Wickham. "But you have to marry Lydia. Today. Take her home to her family and prove you've done right by her. Settle their minds."
Wickham shrugged, looking out the window now. Rob could see the wheels in his mind churning.
"Grandfather believed in you," Rob said, hoping to plunge the knife in further. "You can still live up to that."
* * *
Rob stood at the back of the small church as Wickham and Lydia said their vows. The preacher's wife and a young man who might've been the hotel clerk stood up for them.
Lydia was beaming. She wore a new dress—which Rob would never admit to purchasing, though he'd had it sent to their hotel—and carrying a bouquet of wildflowers.
Wickham pulled at his tie once, but he didn't seem as nervous as Rob would've expected. Maybe, just maybe, he’d treat Lydia right. At least while he worked for a friend, Rob could keep tabs on him. Beyond that...
They exchanged simple silver rings, and Lydia beamed again.
Before Rob had left the hotel earlier, he'd convinced Lydia to send a telegraph to her family, to let them know she was coming home for a visit.
He'd also extracted a promise that she wouldn't speak to anyone of his involvement.
The last thing he wanted was for Liza to find out and feel obligated toward him.
And something Charlie'd said as Rob had rushed out of the house that last morning had stuck in his mind, rubbing like a burr beneath the saddle.
What if you do this and she still doesn't want you?
In his head, he'd replayed those last hours with Liza on his ranch. Again and again.
Liza had been softening toward him. He was sure of it. But was it enough?
Her refusal had been adamant, and even though he'd said he cared for her, she'd made no hint of any feelings for him.
Was he a fool, hoping for something out of reach?
Chapter 24
Hot and dusty and tired, Rob rode onto his ranch three days later. Charlie was there to take his horse.
Rob took off his Stetson as he hit the porch, giving it a good whack against his thigh to loose some of the road dust.
When he stepped in to the kitchen, he stopped short.
"Nate. What're you doing here?"
He accepted a back-slapping hug from his friend.
"It's about time. Charlie let me in. I've been making myself at home for two days." Nathan settled back in at the table as Rob poured himself a glass of cool water and leaned against the counter.
"I had no idea you were coming up this direction," Rob said.
"I needed to talk to you."
Rob let one eyebrow go up. "A letter wouldn't suffice?"
"Not for this matter."
Nathan's hat rested on the tabletop, and he grabbed it, bringing it down to his lap and twirling it between his hands. "It's about Janie."
With all his focus on Lydia and Wickham, Rob hadn't had a spare minute for anything else.
"Is she all right?"
"Of course. As far as I know." Nathan shook his head. "I'd forgotten about the drama with her sister—apparently, she eloped. There's been gossip all over town..." He shook his head, slashing one hand through the air. "None of that matters." He took a deep breath. "I'm in love with Janie. And I think she cares for me too."
Rob couldn't help the smile that twitched at his friend's fervor.
Nathan flicked a look in his direction.
"Good," said Rob.
"What?" Nathan burst out of his seat. "Two months ago you told me she was indifferent."
Rob shrugged. "I was wrong."
It was easier to make the admission than he'd thought.
Nathan narrowed his eyes, his suspicion so out of character that Rob had to stifle a smile. "What aren't you telling me?"
So very much.
"After Hildy, I knew you second-guessed yourself. You aren't the kind of person who likes to think the worst of others, so I told myself it was my duty to protect you. Like an older brother might."
Nathan smiled wryly at that. At least he hadn't thrown a punch, like a younger brother might.
"I mistook Janie's shy nature for indifference. I was wrong."
Nathan wore such a look of relief, Rob clapped him on the shoulder. Nathan would make it right. He could charm himself back into Janie's good graces.
And he hadn't asked how Rob knew. That was a relief. Rob wasn't ready to confess his interactions with Liza just yet.
But then Nathan turned serious again. "That's not all of it."
Nathan told a long story, something about getting sick on a train. Janie’d rescued him, but they'd had to lie, say they were married, to secure a room.
Then the story turned dark. Nathan had been accosted by a woman on the train platform who’d made terrible accusations against Janie.
Liza had hinted, but Rob hadn't expected this.
"That is concerning," Rob said. "Has Janie spread any gossip about the nights you spent together in Cottonwood Cove?"
"Not a peep. I've gone past hoping her father might show up at my door with a shotgun."
Rob grinned, then became serious again.
"Did you believe the accusations against Janie?"
Nathan frowned. "I am not as good at reading people as you are. But I can’t even… Janie’s so innocent, so… I cannot imagine her having done what that woman said.”
In this case, Rob thought Nathan’s assessment spot on.
“But why would someone like about Janie like that, if there wasn’t some truth to it?” Nathan threw out the question, then slumped in his chair.
Rob shrugged. "Perhaps her son intended to compromise Janie but was interrupted. He could've easily lied to his mother to place the blame on her."
And Janie was innocent enough, she would've been caught in the middle.
Nathan's eyes flashed. He stood suddenly, snatched his hat a moment before it slid from his lap to the floor. "Maybe I should go back and ask the man myself."
Rob laughed aloud, unused to seeing his easygoing friend so riled up.
"Or,” Rob suggested, fighting a smile, “perhaps you return home and win the girl, and then you could stop by later to thank him."
Nathan smiled. "There is that." He sat back down. "Do you think she'll forgive me?"
"For being an idiot?"
"For having doubts. I was too shocked at the time to ask her about it. Now it’s been weeks. We haven’t spoken."
"I think if you tell her about Hildy, she'll understand."
Nathan pulled a face. "I should admit to being a fool?"
"With much groveling," Rob suggested.
Nathan smiled slightly. "Hildy seems so long ago. I can never thank you enough for rescuing me from that relationship."
"It will be thanks enough if you patch things up with Janie."
Nathan tossed his hat back on the table and leaned forward. "You'll help me devise a plan to win her back?"
"Of course."
It was the least he could do for ruining things in the first place.
* * *
The moment the telegraph arrived, it was as if a switch had been flipped inside Mama.
Lydia was married.
Mama beamed with pride and pleasure. She sometimes fell into silence, staring at nothing, a bemused smile on her face.
Janie and Kitty whispered together often, speculating how it had happened.
It was as if they'd all forgotten that Lydia had run off with Wickham, would've ruined herself if they hadn't married.
For days, gossip had swirled around Calvin. Hopefully, Lydia's arrival this afternoon on Wickham's arm would quell the rumors.
Liza could only hope that her sister would be happy. If he remained the scoundrel he'd started out as, Lydia would suffer a miserable marriage. Liza could only pray he'd change.
She pled a headache and begged off meeting the train at the station.
She was setting the table for supper when she heard the distant train whistle.
It made her think of Rob.
Things had ended so suddenly on the train platform in Sheridan. She'd hoped for some sign from him that he still had feelings for her. Then the telegraph had interrupted. And above her own fears, she'd felt Rob withdraw at the mention of Wickham.
Wickham, who was a part of their family now. If ever there was a reason for Rob to avoid her, here it was. He hated Wickham.
She might hate him too. Especially if he didn't treat Lydia right.
She dawdled over the place settings until noise from the boardwalk carried up through the small front window of their apartment. She'd know Mama's pealing laugh anywhere.
Janie came through the door first and went immediately to the wash basin. While she rinsed her dusty hands, she peered over her shoulder at Liza. "Are you sure you're all right? I know there was... something between you and Wickham."
That first day of flirtation seemed so long ago now.
"It's not that—"
The others came through the door, cutting her off.
Lydia, Mama, and Kitty were embroiled in a loud, chatty conversation. Wickham and Papa came in behind, and Liza couldn't help it when Wickham's gaze met hers.
Without her permission, a hot flush rose in her face. She jerked her eyes away.
She didn't lie to herself. Any feelings she might've tendered for the man had been destroyed the moment she’d read Rob's letter.
Cowboy Pride Page 16
