Braeden smiled to himself knowing that she had enjoyed his kiss just now. She hadn’t even tried to put a stop to his advances.
Pulling up another chair, he sighed and pushed back the errant hair that had fallen across his forehead. He waited until she had regained her composure and opened her eyes. Her expression betrayed her longing, and it was this that caused Braeden to press forward with his explanation.
“I had to see you. I had to make you talk to me, or at least to listen to me,” he began. “I’ve been half crazy working so close to you, yet never being able to be near you—to touch you—talk to you.”
She appeared surprised by his words, and Braeden knew instinctively that she was still harboring painful memories from the past.
“Rachel, Ivy Brooks means nothing to me. She’s a conniving little child who is searching for a husband and a ticket out of Morita. I’m not that man. What you saw at the pool was pure coincidence and nothing more.”
“But she said you’d sent her a note,” Rachel murmured, confirming to Braeden where her heart was in the matter.
“I forwarded her a note from her aunt. I had gone to the depot to pick up some telegrams and ran into Mrs. Needlemeier. She gave me a note for Ivy and asked if I would be so kind as to deliver it.”
“I see,” Rachel said, clearly enlightened by this news.
“As for her being in my arms when you returned for your book, it was just as I tried to explain. Either honestly or dishonestly, Ivy slipped. Instinctively, I reached out to steady her. It was nothing more than this. I left the pool right after you did and thought to come talk to you, but I knew you would need to change out of your wet clothes and figured it would be better if I talked to you the next day. But you wouldn’t allow me anywhere near you.”
Tears formed in Rachel’s green eyes. “I’m sorry,” she managed to say before allowing a tiny sob to escape. “This has been very hard on me.”
“You aren’t the only one,” Braeden countered with a smile. But his smile quickly faded as he saw how tormented she was over the entire matter. “Tell me that you no longer love me, and I’ll never bother you again,” he said suddenly. He knew it was a risk—he wasn’t at all sure he wanted to hear the answer but felt confident that the matter had to be discussed.
She looked at him in disbelief, trying hard to rein in her emotions. “What?”
He leaned forward, reaching out to take hold of her hand. “Tell me, Rachel. Tell me that you don’t love me.”
He could see her breathing quicken and watched as her expression contorted. She was fighting a battle within herself, and he couldn’t help her. But her battle gave him the answer he needed and that gave him hope.
“I love you, Rachel. That has never changed. I’ve never stopped, even when you refused to believe in me. All I ask is that you admit what you’re feeling for me. If I’m right, then we can move past this and reclaim our future together. If not, then I’ll leave you alone. In fact, I’ll leave Casa Grande. You only need to tell me that you no longer care.”
A gasping sob broke from Rachel’s throat as she pulled her hand away from his. “Don’t do this. I can’t … I …”
Braeden’s heart was encouraged. She still loved him, of this he was certain. It gave him all the hope he needed to press her for the truth. “Why not, Rachel? Why can’t you tell me that you don’t love me?”
Rachel shook her head in misery, giving him no answer but her silence. She began to cry in earnest now. “I’ve been wrong about so many things, and I just don’t trust my judgment where my emotions are concerned. You must see that I can’t have my life so disorderly— so disturbed. I feel like I’m constantly running up one hill and down another in some form of endless race. I’m making no progress, but I have to keep running. It’s wearing me out.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but she was too quick for him.
Releasing all the pressures of her life over the last few weeks, Rachel poured out her heart, edging close to hysteria as she did so.
“First I have to deal with the likes of Ivy and her aunt. Esmeralda Needlemeier has interfered in my decisions at nearly every turn. She criticizes my choices, my decisions, and my close observation of Mr. Harvey’s instructions. She threatens to have me fired at least once a day, and she considers it her personal business to see me miserable.
Then she saddles me with Ivy. Ivy comes along and wreaks havoc with my authority—questioning every order, commenting on every detail of instruction. She’s young and beautiful and she knows it, so she works her wiles on every man who comes through the door—including you.”
She drew a ragged breath and continued. “It’s just too much. Can’t you see? The pressure is too great and it’s destroying me. You are here as a constant reminder of what I’ve lost, while Reginald pursues me in hopes of courtship and a future that I cannot give him. I can’t go on like this!” She buried her face in her hands and cried in great heartbreaking sobs. “I can’t.”
Braeden felt momentarily overwhelmed. He had never seen anyone break down so thoroughly. Even when Rachel had bid him good-bye in Chicago, she had been rather stalwart. This time, however, was clearly a different case. It stunned him and left him totally confused as to how he might help. He certainly hadn’t anticipated causing her this kind of misery.
Help me, Lord, he prayed as he edged forward on his chair. I don’t want to hurt her anymore. I only want to love her.
Uncertain that it was the right thing to do, Braeden got to his feet and pulled Rachel up into his arms. She nearly collapsed against him, unable to fight him or to stop her tears. He let her cry, holding her tightly against him, feeling her tears wet the front of his shirt. Her entire body trembled from the force of pain and misery inside of her. Searching desperately for something to say, Braeden found he could only stand there, praying and waiting for her to release the anguish that seemed to consume her.
He lost track of time, knowing that it didn’t matter. He would have stood there for years had it taken that long. If it meant that Rachel could leave off with the past and her doubts and give him a second chance at a happy future with her, Braeden would have waited forever. When her sobs seemed to quiet a bit and the trembling and great wracking heaves eased off, Braeden began stroking her hair. His fingers tangled into the rich auburn curls, pulling loose her hairpins. Her hair was soft and it smelled like lilacs and roses.
He loved her so much and he just couldn’t lose her again. Please, God, don’t let me lose her.
She finally quieted against him, her arms wrapped tightly around him, clinging to him as if he were some stronghold in the storm. Finally it seemed right to speak.
“I love you, Rachel. I have always loved you. You must trust me. You must believe in that love, for it will never die.”
She pulled away just far enough to look up into his face. She seemed to study him, as if by observing his expression she could tell the truth of his words. He remained quite sober as her green eyes seemed to search him for answers.
“Esmeralda can’t hurt you,” he continued softly. “She’s a lonely, domineering old woman who is used to having things done her way. She doesn’t know how to deal with someone who stands her ground against her as you do. But she is not the one in charge of your position here, and Fred Harvey knows what an asset you are to his system. He won’t let you go easily, and he certainly won’t dismiss you at the grumblings of one old woman.
“And Ivy is nothing to me. She is a spoiled brat who seeks to cause problems. I wouldn’t take her too seriously. She’s just a child. She has no power over you, unless you give it to her. And as for Reginald Worthington, well … let’s just say I’ll deal with him.”
Rachel sniffed and shook her head. “It’s not your problem.”
“But I want it to be my problem,” Braeden countered. “I want it to be my problem because I want you to be my problem.”
“He’s done nothing wrong.”
“Nothing but ask to court my lady,” Braeden said
with a grin. He reached up and touched her tear-stained cheeks with his index finger. “He can’t have you, Rachel. You belong to me—just as I belong to you.”
Because they were still in each other’s arms, it seemed only natural that he kiss her again. He lowered his mouth to hers very slowly, giving her every chance to protest. He might have forced that first kiss, but not this one. This one he wanted to be a symbol of their life to come. He wanted it to be the first of many sweet, passionate kisses they would share by mutual desire.
Rachel closed her eyes, and he knew she wanted this kiss as much as he did. Gently, so as not to startle her, he pressed his lips to hers.
He felt her embrace tighten, even as he held her closer to him. His heart rejoiced that he had found her again and that she cared for him. Although she’d not said the words, he knew she still loved him.
But without warning, Rachel pulled away, this time putting several feet of distance between them. “Mr. Harvey doesn’t allow for dating between his employees. You mustn’t … I mean … we mustn’t—” “Mustn’t what? Love each other?” Braeden asked, stepping closer.
“No!” Rachel exclaimed. She held out her arm as if to ward him off. “You must understand. I have been quite strict with the girls and even with Reg. I told him it was not allowable for Mr. Harvey’s employees to court. It’s against the rules.”
“So we break the rules.”
She shook her head again. “That’s what Reg said, but you know that isn’t what God would want of us.”
Braeden smiled. “I don’t recall there’s any law of Mr. Harvey’s against being married to another employee. In fact, as I recall, there were several incidences of that at the Las Vegas resort where I took my training.”
“Married?” Rachel questioned, her eyes growing wide with what Braeden could only surmise was a mixture of shock and fear.
“Rachel,” he said softly, hoping to alleviate her fright, “would marriage to me be so bad?”
“Marriage?” She seemed stuck on variations of the word.
He smiled. “I don’t wish to court you. I’ve already done that. I want to marry you and make you my wife forever. I don’t want there to come another chance for you to slip away from me. Marry me.”
“Marry you.” She said it rather stoically, as if he’d asked for nothing more than her assistance in sending a telegram. She took a deep breath and let it out before answering. “Braeden, I think we both need to pray about this. We’re acting on emotions and the turmoil of the moment. We can’t think clearly under the circumstances.”
“I’m thinking quite clearly,” he said, taking a step toward her.
She shook her head and backed up to the door. “I can’t.”
He knew he couldn’t continue to force the issue and nodded. “Very well. Then I suppose I must wait until that time when you can think this through and see it for the sensible remedy that I know it to be.”
She appeared to relax a bit. “Thank you, Braeden.” She opened the door but paused as if reconsidering what had just taken place. With the tiniest of smiles she said, “I seem to have made a mess of your shirt.”
“No more so than I made of your hair,” he offered with a grin. “I’d say we’re even.”
Her hand went to her hair, and she smiled as she pulled loose the last remaining pins. “I might as well let it all down.”
“I’ve always liked it very much that way.”
She shook her head. “You’ve never seen it this way, as far as I can recall.”
His grin broadened. “I have in my dreams.”
He watched as her ruddy complexion darkened to crimson in her embarrassment. He thought her the most beautiful woman in the world. “Good night, Rachel. Don’t forget.”
She looked at him quizzically. “Don’t forget what?”
“That I love you.” He barely whispered the words, but they seemed to echo loudly in the room. It seemed an inadequate represen-tation of all that he felt for her, but he knew they were the words she would most understand.
She nodded but said nothing more, leaving him there to watch her leave. He went to the doorway and watched her cross the lobby to her own quarters. His arms ached to hold her again, and it was all he could do to keep from running after her. I have to give her time, he reasoned. I have to be patient and steadfast and prove my love to her all over again, if that’s what it takes to win her heart.
THIRTEEN
SEEING BRAEDEN AND RACHEL greet each other rather amicably that morning at breakfast, Ivy Brooks could only imagine that they had resolved their differences and had agreed to be friends. Such a development didn’t fit into Ivy’s plans at all.
Finishing the last of her breakfast, Ivy considered how to spend her day off. She had planned to go to her aunt’s house and spend a luxurious amount of time in a hot bath where not only would there be no line of giggling girls awaiting a turn, but she would have peace and quiet to think. However, seeing Rachel smile demurely at Braeden’s comments caused Ivy to feel a bit riled. She had hoped they would go on being enemies. At least as long as it took to find out from her aunt Esmeralda who Braeden Parker was and what prospects he might afford her as a potential husband. She’d already overheard bits and pieces of information pertaining to his relationship with Rachel, including what she’d overhead that night at the pool.
“Wish I could spend the day with you,” Faith said as she cleared away some of Ivy’s dishes.
“I’m sure Rachel arranged to keep us separated,” Ivy said snidely. “She claims to want us to act and relate as one happy family, but she certainly goes out of her way to see that we are kept from spending too much free time together.”
Faith frowned. “I suppose that’s true. I simply hadn’t considered it.”
Ivy nodded, knowing there was a great deal Faith had never bothered to consider. The girl was positively daft, and Ivy wondered quite seriously how she managed to remember how to breathe without someone standing by to instruct her.
Tossing her napkin atop the table, Ivy got to her feet. “Well, I must go and visit my auntie. She pines away for me, you know.”
Faith nodded as if fully understanding this to be true. “At least you have somewhere nice to go.”
“Don’t fret, Faith. One day I shall take you to the mansion with me, and we shall have a lovely tea and you may try on my Worth gowns.” Ivy threw this last temptation in to remind Faith just how far beneath Ivy’s status she truly was. She might be the granddaughter of one of the Santa Fe board members, but she was still a simple girl from Kansas. Ivy, on the other hand, had been abroad, had shopped in the finest stores in New York, and was more than a little aware of the differences between her life and Faith’s.
“Oh, that would be simply divine,” Faith said, hugging the plates to her apron.
Just then Rachel walked by. “Miss Bradford, is that a stain I see on your apron?”
Faith looked down rather mortified. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Well, now that you have, I would suggest you go change immediately. You know Mr. Harvey’s rules.”
“Yes, Rachel,” Faith replied and hurried off to do as she was instructed.
Ivy looked at Rachel and smiled. “Well, I’m off to enjoy my day. I don’t suppose that nice Mr. Parker also has the day off?”
Rachel frowned. “No, I don’t suppose he does, and even if he did, you know Mr. Harvey’s rules on that issue as well as rules about stained aprons.”
Ivy laughed. “Rules are made for those who can otherwise not figure out how to govern themselves. I, Miss Taylor, am certainly not amongst that crowd. I can think for myself, and I can certainly structure my life accordingly. I’m very organized.”
“Well, I would keep in mind the time, Miss Brooks,” Rachel said, squaring her shoulders. “You were late returning on your last day off. I certainly wouldn’t want to assign you extra duty in order to make up for that infraction of the rules.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be back,” Ivy said, giving R
achel what she knew would be her haughtiest stare. “So long as this job suits my needs, I’ll be here.”
She sauntered off toward the lobby, thoroughly enjoying the fact that she’d just made Rachel very uncomfortable. Ivy was one of the few people to stand her ground with the spinster and she enjoyed making it clear that she didn’t need the position, but rather was entitled to it if she wanted it. Rachel might be a problem to her immediate plans, but Ivy decided it was a problem she’d soon take care of. The likes of Rachel Taylor was hardly an adversary worth fretting over.
Moving down the hall, Ivy exited the building out the side door. This door opened onto the wide, sweeping sun porch that lined the garden side of Casa Grande. Here guests could sit and study the parklike garden that stretched out for acres between Casa Grande and the Needlemeier estate. It was quite picturesque and said to be some of the loveliest country for miles around. But it could never be lovely enough to entice Ivy to want to stay. She hated Morita. Hated it more than any place else on earth.
She remembered coming here after the death of her parents. The house fire that had taken their lives had left her with little but borrowed clothes and bad memories.
Ivy frowned. Thinking of her parents pricked a spark of conscience that Ivy had long since refused to deal with. It had a way of making a person regret their mistakes, and Ivy had no time for such things. The past was the past and nothing would change it. The future, however, still held great possibilities … no thanks to her aunt or this pitiful town.
Ivy had hoped and prayed that Morita would be something exotic and wonderful. Instead, she found a desertlike town with a funny little hot springs oasis and a vast garden that her aunt likened to Eden. But other than this and a few minor business establishments, Morita was as desolate as St. Louis had been exciting.
Leaving the porch to venture along the stream, Ivy tried to take some pleasure in the series of tiny waterfalls. They traveled in rapid succession downward to the greater Morita Falls, allowing for the energy that provided some parts of the town with electricity. Aunt Esmeralda said very soon the entire town would have access to the power source, but it still wouldn’t be enough for Ivy. It was hard to get excited about something that had once seemed rather commonplace in her life.
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