When the whimpering sound came a third time, he was almost relieved. He started to get up, but settled back in his chair. What could he do? In all of his thirty-seven years, he'd never had to comfort an upset woman. In fact, he'd never had to do anything for a woman. He'd always been too far away.
The sound came again. This time it did sound like she was trying to cry. He got to his feet, undecided. She must have done this before. He doubted she would appreciate his knowing about it.
He left his room, but stopped just outside her door.
Violet's room was hardly more than eight by ten feet with a window in the center of the far wall. An oak-frame bed stood to the right of the window. A table and wardrobe stood against the left wall.
Moonlight fell on the bed making Violet's face visible. She was having some kind of dream. She moved restlessly, her lips forming silent words, her head moving from side to side, her fists clenched tightly at her side.
Suddenly she spoke with absolutely clarity. "Jonas, you can't do this!"
Her brother.
"You're all I've got. You can't die!"
She was becoming more agitated. Jeff teetered on the brink of indecision.
He entered her room. What was he doing here? He didn't know what to do, and he felt terribly out of place. He had no experience with this kind of intimacy. He couldn't change anything. Considering what passed between them earlier in the day, he doubted she'd want any comfort he could offer.
But the sound of her distress drew him deeper into the room, closer to her bedside.
Even though her skin seemed unnaturally white, her loveliness was not diminished by the moonlight. Her magnificent halo of hair gleamed nearly black, her brows and lashes ebony. Only her lips retained their warm, lustrous color. Inviting lips. Lips that begged to be kissed.
"Jonas!"
It was almost a shout. Violet rolled over so far Jeff feared she would fall out of the bed.
He dropped to his knees, reached out with an arm to keep her from falling. It was awkward. He had to support her with his stump. With his right arm he tried to lift her and move her back onto the bed. Instead she threw her arms around him and held him tight.
"Jonas!" It was a sigh of relief, of near contentment.
He didn't dare move. He couldn't. Not just from fear of waking her. No woman had ever clung to him for comfort. He just knelt there, as still as a statue, wondering what to do next.
His brothers would have laughed at him. Well, maybe not George, but the rest would have enjoyed this. Rose would have told him it served him right for being such a cross-grained cuss. At the moment he wouldn't have cared what anybody said as long as they told him what to do next.
Even as he slipped his right arm around her shoulders to support her, he was acutely aware of his stump, of a desire to move it away from her, of a need to hide it. But his instinctive reaction was to enfold her in both arms.
He ought to get out of here as soon as possible. He shouldn't even be touching her. What if Beth woke up and found them? But her distress affected him as no other ever had. He was upset because she was upset. He felt the need to comfort her even though he knew it was a mistake. Violet was a Yankee. He shouldn't be feeling this way about her. He couldn't let himself.
He must be crazy! He was only trying to comfort a woman who had cried out in her sleep. He was making far too much out of this whole thing.
But he knew better than that. From the moment she stepped into the parlor two weeks ago, Violet Goodwin had inflamed his emotions, muddled his thoughts, and stirred up feelings he had hoped were dead and buried. It didn't seem she could do anything that didn't irritate him, or him her. The fact that she was a lovely woman lying virtually helpless in his arms shouldn't be enough to make him forget the realities of their relationship.
But it was more than enough.
He brushed aside the hair which had fallen across her face. Despite the years he had spent going to see Louise, he'd never touched a woman. Not really touched her. This felt different, like he was experiencing it for the first time. He'd never known skin could be so soft. It felt like warm velvet. He wanted to caress every part of her face until he memorized the contours of her cheeks, the stiffness of her lashes, the softness of her lips.
Jeff didn't know what caused him to do it -- he would have said it was the last thing he'd ever do -- but he kissed her. It was more a brushing of the lips than a real kiss, but its effect on him was the same as if it had been a passionate embrace.
He wanted to kiss her again, really kiss her.
He also wanted to drop her, scramble down the lift, and tramp about in the bitter cold until this hot madness left him.
Violet stirred awake.
She raised her head from his chest and a look of panic spread over her face. "What are you doing here?" she asked pushing him away.
He hardly knew how to respond. Did she know he had kissed her? She seemed truly shocked to find herself in his arms. Almost frightened. Surely she didn't think . . . no, not even a Yankee could think he would attack a woman in her sleep.
"You were having a bad dream. You nearly fell off the bed. When I tried to lift you back . . . "
She pulled the covers up around her shoulders. Only then did he realize her nightgown was low-cut, made of some silky looking material.
"Thank you."
"Can I do anything to help?" He wanted to do something though he had no idea what. She was alone. She had ghosts like him. She needed comfort.
"I'm all right now. You can go back to your room."
He felt a spasm of relief. She didn't know.
"Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yes."
"You cried out for Jonas. Why?"
"I told you. He died."
"But that wouldn't make you dream about him. You didn't the other nights."
"Talking about the war brought it all back. I knew it would. I shouldn't have brought it up."
"What happened to him?"
"I told you, he died."
"But there was something else."
How did he know? What made him think he could look into her mind? He'd never been able to do it before. Maybe it was the same reason he had just kissed her.
She pulled the cover closer around her and slipped back down into the bed.
"He didn't have to die. The doctors said he could get well if he wanted to. But he wanted to die. He wouldn't take his medicine, he wouldn't eat, he wouldn't see anyone, do anything. He just lay there waiting."
Jeff understood. He had felt the same way at first. But it wasn't long before he got over it, started wanting to live again. Life hadn't held much promise for him either, but he hadn't been ready to trade it for angel wings. Or, according to Monty, devil's horns.
"There was a sweet young girl who loved him. She would have married him like he was. She was rich. He could have had the best medical care available. But he wouldn't see her. He wouldn't read her letters. He told her his life was ruined, not to ruin hers as well."
"What did she do?"
"She finally went away. She wanted a husband and a family. She found somebody else. She's happy now. But I could never see her husband without thinking that could have been Jonas if he had just had the courage to live. I loved my brother dearly, I would have done anything for him, but I think I almost came to hate him for being such a coward."
Coward! His father's voice echoed down the deeply eroded canyons of Jeff's memory. Coward! Coward!
Jeff felt himself pull away. Violet seemed to sense it.
"You'd better go," she said. "Thank you for coming."
Jeff stood. He felt awkward. "Are you sure you'll be all right?" That was a damned stupid question. Nobody ever got hurt by a bad dream.
"I'm fine. I'd better get back to sleep. Tomorrow will be a busy day."
He didn't know why he didn't feel right leaving her. He didn't know what he could do if he stayed. He could probably do more good sitting in his own room listening in case it happ
ened again.
"Haven't you been to bed yet?" she asked.
"I've still got work to do."
"Jonas missed his life because he died. You're going to miss yours because you never stop working. I don't know which is worse."
That stung. Here she was only half awake, scared out of her mind because of some damned nightmare, and she couldn't stop criticizing him.
"I've got to catch up with all that money I let slip past me this afternoon."
She looked puzzled. She didn't remember. He felt foolish for being so caustic. Then she did remember and looked embarrassed. He felt like a scoundrel for bringing it up.
"I know better than to let myself start talking about the war," she said. "I always say something I shouldn't. And I always dream of Jonas."
Damn her! She made him feel like he ought to apologize. And he'd never apologized to anybody. He was too old to start doing it now.
"I guess all of us say things when we're angry we later wish we hadn't."
Hell, that was practically an apology. What was wrong with his tongue? It seemed to be rattling on without any regard for what his brain was telling it. He backed toward the door before he could say anything else.
"Call me if you need anything," he said. "I'll be up a while yet."
"Go to sleep. I'm sure you'll catch up with that money sooner or later. People like you always do."
He took one last look. She had pulled the covers up to her chin and was lying on her side, her face toward him, her eyes closed.
"Should I close the door?"
"No."
He knew that. Essie had told him. He was casting about for an excuse to linger. He was trying to explain to himself the reason for that kiss. He was hoping to understand why this woman was so different from all the rest. It was almost there, just out of reach. If he left now, he might never find it.
But there was no reason to stay, no reason to know. He never meant to kiss her again. The sooner he forgot about it, the sooner he could put these five days behind him.
Jeff turned and headed toward his room. Inside, he dropped into his chair like a runner at the end of a race. He was going to have to face it. His feeling for Violet was more than physical. He didn't understand how it could have happened, but it obviously had.
His brothers would give half of everything they owned to know. After what he'd said about their wives, the way he'd acted over the years, they'd never let him forget it. It didn't matter that his feelings were little more than liking. By the time they got through with it, Romeo and Juliet's love would sound like a passing fancy.
He picked up his papers and forced his mind back on his work. He didn't have long to endure. By tomorrow afternoon he'd be gone and forgotten.
* * * * *
Violet appeared in his doorway while he was still exercising. He wore a pair of pants and a cotton shirt. He lowered the bar when he saw her.
"I want to thank you for last night," she said. "I'm sorry I pushed you away. I was upset."
She seemed unsure of herself, almost shy. He wondered if she felt the change between them. He couldn't define it, but he knew it was there. They had shared something, and it had formed a link, however tenuous, between them.
"I had no business staying so long," Jeff said. "Somebody could have come up."
She definitely looked nervous now.
"I know you don't like women much, especially Yankee women. It meant a lot."
Denial rose to his lips, but it was too late. He was leaving soon. It wouldn't make any difference.
"I don't usually have nightmares like that unless I'm tired," she said. "I didn't get my last two days off." She brightened. "But it won't be so bad once the quarantine's over. The girls will be outside or in class most of the day."
"And I'll be gone."
She looked agitated again, like she needed to say something but didn't want to. "I'm sure you'll be relieved. These last few days must have been a strain on you, not to mention your staff."
He'd done everything but pray for the end of the quarantine, but now it was here, he felt something important was about to end. She was a bossy, opinionated woman, but he'd be a little sorry not to see her again. It was hard to believe it could have happened so fast, but he'd gotten used to having her around. She could make him mad as fire, but she had touched places inside him that had been gathering dust. She was a fresh wind that made him feel more alive, feel less numb.
"It hasn't been as bad as I expected. I hope Essie gets better with her arithmetic."
Violet seemed to gather herself, take a deep breath, and go back to her usual, businesslike self. "I'm sure she will. Now you'd better hurry up and finish with the bathroom. This is a school day. The girls will be up early."
He watched as she walked down the hall, her rich coral satin dress swaying as she walked. In a moment she had disappeared down the stairs. In a few hours he would go down those steps for the last time, but he would leave the building a different man. He didn't know yet whether that was good or bad.
* * * * *
Iris eased open the door and looked in. Fern was sitting up in the bed, staring out the window, her breakfast tray across her lap.
"I told Monty you'd be up," Iris chirped, practically bouncing into the room. "He was sure you'd sleep until noon."
"Iris! What are you doing here?" Suspicious moisture glistened in Fern's eyes. "When did you get in? I thought you were fixed at the ranch at least until Christmas."
Fern gave her sister-in-law a warm hug, then dropped down on the bed. The breakfast tray tilted to one side, and the remains of Fern's coffee slopped into the saucer.
"Let me take that before I make an unholy mess." Iris put the tray on a table by the bed. "Now tell me how you're doing?"
"Not until you tell me why you're here," Fern answered.
Iris grinned and dropped back on the bed. "I didn't want to be, but my hardheaded husband insisted."
"Where is he?"
"Playing with the boys."
"I can't imagine why he does, but I'm grateful. They adore him. Now stop trying to change the subject, and tell me why you're here."
"The miracle finally happened."
"What miracle? It can't be that Monty has finally grown up."
"Maybe I should have let your coffee splash all over you."
"I take it back. Besides, I like Monty just the way he is."
"So do I, most of the time," Iris said, her good humor restored.
"Out with it."
"I'm pregnant. I'm finally pregnant." Iris hugged her sister-in-law once more.
"But I thought you wanted to have the baby at the ranch."
"I did, but Monty decided I was too weak and fragile to spend one moment of the next seven months not under a doctor's eye. If I hadn't come on my own, he would have picked me up and carried me."
"Daisy's expecting, too."
"I know. We got into the hotel last night. I couldn't believe that place. It's a good thing Tyler found an entire gold mine. It must have cost a fortune."
"And it's making one. Daisy says they have people fighting over the rooms."
Iris laughed. "Tyler looked disgusted when I told him I was pregnant. He said the family was going to have to build a maternity hospital." Iris sobered. "How are you doing? Daisy says you've been having a rough time."
"Nobody seems to know what's wrong. I never slowed down for a minute the other times. This time I knew something was different right from the start."
"Probably means it's going to be a girl," Iris said, trying to sound cheerful. "Even before she gets here, she's letting you know she's not going to put up with anything from her four older brothers."
"I hope you're right. It would be nice to have a girl. I love the boys dearly, but I'd like one child who was a little less noisy than a herd of elk."
"Where is your handsome husband?"
"Jeff sent him to Leadville. There's some trouble about the mines."
"Why didn't Jeff go himself?"
<
br /> "You know Jeff. He won't leave that bank unless he's made to." Suddenly Fern started laughing. "You won't believe what happened."
By the time she had finished the story, both women were laughing so hard they were crying.
"Wait until Monty hears this," Iris said between gusts of laughter. "He likes Jeff even less than Madison does. Do you think he'll come here when he gets out?"
"Probably. Why?"
"I expect he's about to go crazy. I know it's not nice of me, but I'd love to see Jeff fall apart. Just once, I'd like to see him shaken out of his I know everything stance."
"If anything could do it, being shut up with sixteen little girls and a Yankee housemother would."
Iris didn't like the lines of fatigue she saw etched in Fern's face. It was only morning.
"Have you been sleeping well?"
"Not really. I never sleep well when Madison's away."
"You poor woman! He's away half the year. You've got four years of sleep to catch up on."
Fern smiled. "It's not that bad, but I do wish he'd finish this business soon. The boys need at least one parent who can stand up. They tend not to take me very seriously when I'm lying down."
"I can take care of that," Iris said. "Now I've got to find Monty before he teaches them to ignore every rule you've ever taught them."
Fern smiled. "That's not many. Considering they have Madison and me for parents, I'm surprised they've learned to live indoors."
"No, my child is the one who's going to be labeled wolf-man. It'll served Monty right if it's a girl. Can you imagine him trying to deal with a wolf-girl?"
They both went into peals of laughter.
"I said I was going, and here I still am," Iris said. She pulled the bedclothes up around Fern. "You lie back. I've got a few things to do, but I'll come back and sit with you this afternoon."
The moment she closed the door, Iris went in search of Monty.
"You get on that telegraph -- or whatever it takes to reach Leadville -- and tell Madison to come home this instant. Something is dreadfully wrong with Fern."
Chapter Twelve
Violet paced the parlor. Jeff's clerks had spent most of the morning removing their files and desks and putting the furniture back the way they found it. Even now, they were waiting to dismantle the lift that had creaked and groaned for several days, carrying the steady flow of papers, food, and clothes to Jeff's room. The parlor seemed strangely quiet. Only the smell of fresh ashes in the fireplace hinted at the frenzied activity that had centered around this room.
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