He drew in his breath knowing his next words would be the only benediction their love for each other was likely to have.
"Gavin is a supremely fortunate man to be able to spend his life with you. I hope that you and he will find real happiness together."
He brought her paint-stained fingers to his mouth and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. He held her hand a moment longer, soaking up her warmth, basking in her tenderness. Then he let her go.
He clambered to his feet and headed back to the house. He managed to stumble inside before his knees gave way. He braced his hands against the table and stood there hunched and fighting for breath. He had never felt so empty, so utterly lost.
It had taken everything he had to give Ardith the freedom she needed to make a life for herself. He was proud that he had done it, but how it tore at him to hold happiness in his grasp, then have to let it go.
He drew himself up again and found his way to Ardith's bedchamber. It was relentlessly neat, still rife with the smell of turpentine and linseed oil, and that clean, gingery scent that he had come to recognize as hers.
He moved to the bed and stroked his hand across the well-washed quilt, remembering how he had spilled Ardith down across it just last night. It filled him with a harsh, stark longing for this woman he could never kiss, never hold, never touch again.
He walked to the dresser. The glass that hung above it reflected back a man whose hollow eyes gave proof of all he'd forfeited in the name of love and honor.
Ardith's scant belongings were scattered across the top—her hairbrush and comb, a vial of scent, and a pile of frilly handkerchiefs. Mismatched saucers held several pair of earrings, buttons and coins, and her cache of tortoiseshell hairpins.
He curled his fingers around one of them, remembering how he'd slipped these pins from her hair one by one. He remembered how the soft, silky strands had tumbled around her, waving ever so slightly against her breasts and spilling down her back. He remembered how that glorious hair had spread around her as they made love, and how it had trailed across his chest as he held her in the aftermath.
He smiled with the memory and curled his hand around one of the hairpins. He fancied that it still held the warmth of her, the essence of this tightly bound woman with her generous heart. Then, instead of putting the hairpin back, he tucked it away in the pocket of his trousers. It was the only piece of Ardith he dared keep.
He was just turning toward the back of the house where he'd left Dandy when he heard a wagon rumble into the yard. It was Hunter Jalbert bringing Meggie to the house so she could accompany Ardith to Boston.
Baird stepped out onto the porch to welcome them just as Hunter helped his daughter down from the wagon. He held on to her a little longer than was necessary for her to get steadied on her feet and raised one hand to adjust her hat as if she were a far younger girl.
"Well, Miss Meggie," Baird addressed her, using a smile to hide his regrets. "Are you all set for your big adventure?"
Meggie beamed at him. "Indeed I am. Mother and I bought material and patterns when we were in Cheyenne, and we have been sewing clothes to take east with me ever since."
Hunter scowled and lowered the tailgate of the wagon with a bang to reveal a shiny new leather-bound trunk. Baird went to offer help, but Jalbert nudged him away. He hefted the piece of luggage onto the porch and used the moment it took to compose himself.
"You're going to stay the night with us, aren't you, Hunter?" Baird asked, the offer of hospitality as much a part of life here in the West as the ceaseless wind.
"No," the older man answered gruffly. "I have business at Fort Laramie. I'm going to say good-bye to Meggie and see how far I can get before dark."
Baird could tell by Hunter's manner that he was no more at peace with sending his daughter off to Boston than Baird was going to be when it came to putting Ardith on the train.
He meant to give them a moment of privacy, but just then Ardith came rushing around the corner of the house.
"Meggie, Hunter, hello!" she greeted them, throwing her arms around Meggie in an extravagant hug. "Do come in. We'll get you something to eat and a place to bed down for the night. Then you can tell me all about Cass and the boys. You can't imagine how much all of us have missed you!"
"Cassie and the boys are fine," Hunter said, his dark face impassive. "They're seeing to the ranch while I came here. But because they're up there alone, I need to finish some business over east of here and get right back."
Before Ardith could try to dissuade him, Hunter opened his arms to his daughter. "Come hug me, Meggie girl, so I can get on my way."
Meggie went to him, and he folded her against him. "I know I'm not your real papa, Meggie, but no man could love a flesh and blood daughter more than I love you. No man could be any prouder of the woman you have become."
Jalbert's voice was low and quiet, but Baird heard the soft, deeply felt words of farewell. A knot swelled in his throat. One day he would have to let China go just the way Hunter was saying goodbye to Meggie.
Still, he had a little time, a few more years with China and the boys before they went out into the world on their own. Whatever else happened in his life, he meant to make the most of the time he had.
Ardith's shoulder brushed against him, as if she knew what he was feeling. Just the touch of her warmth, the realization that she was so attuned to his feelings, made him catch his breath. How was he going to get through his days and nights without her?
Beside the wagon, Meggie was hanging on to Hunter as if she never meant to let him go.
"No real papa could have been any better to me than you have been," she murmured. "I love you, Hunter, and I thank you for everything you've done for me. Take care of Mama and the boys while I'm away." He nodded, knocking the brim of her hat askew. "And take care of yourself."
They clung together for one moment longer, and then Hunter set his daughter away from him.
Ardith stepped up beside the girl and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as Hunter climbed up into the wagon seat.
Baird caught a glimpse of the set of his mouth and the sheen of tears in his eyes as he said his final farewell to her. "I love you, Meggie," he murmured, then whistled to the horses.
They stood and watched Hunter drive away—a girl on the cusp of womanhood, a woman who would lavish Meggie with the same care she had shown his three children. And Baird, who hoped for everyone's sake that he would manage his own good-byes with such quiet dignity.
Chapter 16
Everyone gathered early the next morning to see the men off to Cheyenne. Buck and Myra stood at one end of the porch with their arms around each other, as if they were going to be separated for a decade instead of a little more than a week. China and Meggie chattered with several of the hands about the wonders of Cheyenne, anticipating their own trip to the railhead. Durban was mounted up and all but bouncing with impatience.
Though Baird had been specifically waiting for Ardith to come out of the house, he took the opportunity to talk to Khy. "While I'm driving these cattle to market, I expect you to behave yourself. I want you to do what your Aunt Ardith tells you and try to stay out of trouble. If I hear you've been good, I'll buy you some of those lemon drops you fancy when you get to town."
He sounded just like a parent, Baird realized, more than a little appalled. When exactly had he started that?
"How come I can't help drive cattle, too?" Khy protested. "Durban is."
Baird hunkered down on his heels and looked at his son. "You know how there are things that you've outgrown, like teething toys and last year's clothes?"
Khy nodded noncommittally.
"Well, there are also things you have to grow into. I'm afraid, Khy, this is one of them. I wouldn't be taking Durban with me except that he rides so well and has been so good about helping out."
Baird hoped Durban could hear what he was saying. He hadn't been able to tell his son how proud he was that he'd overcome his aversion to horses and learned t
o ride. Or how pleased he was that the boy had made himself so useful during the fall roundup.
But even the invitation to help drive the steers south hadn't broken through the wall of Durban's reserve. "I'll ride with you if you like," was all he'd said when Baird asked him.
Baird squeezed Khy's shoulder and smiled. "Do you understand why you can't come with us this time, son?"
"I hate being little!" Khy complained and scowled in a way Baird had seen in his own mirror.
He pulled the youngster into his arms. "Your time will come," he promised and got a reluctant hug for his trouble.
Just then Ardith breezed out onto the porch. Baird followed her with his eyes as she threaded her way to where Myra and Buck were standing together and saw her give a letter to the older man. Baird swung Khy up in his arms and ambled toward them.
"...sure this gets mailed for me?" Ardith was saying as they came up. "It's very important."
Baird had no doubt the letter was to Gavin Rawlinson, but he peeked over her shoulder just to be sure. "I'll be happy to mail that," he offered.
Ardith started, then wheeled to face him. Her eyes were wide and bright—and oddly guilty. It was all the indication he needed to confirm the answer she'd given Rawlinson. When he saw the emerald and pearl ring on the third finger of her left hand, he went still inside.
"I—I appreciate you offering to mail the letter, Baird, really I do. But—but I know just how—how much you'll have on your mind when you get to—to Cheyenne," Ardith stammered.
"Why don't I just tuck it away in my jacket for safekeeping," Buck offered, "so the boss won't have to remember to find the post office when we hit town?"
Baird scowled at the older man. How likely was he to forget what that letter entailed? Or that Ardith's future would be sealed once Buck posted it?
Regret grabbed him hard, and he wished with all his heart he had something to offer Ardith. How was he going to put her on the train knowing he'd never see her again? Knowing he was sending her off to marry another man?
Khy reached across, and Ardith took him into her arms.
He's getting too big for her to do that, Baird found himself thinking. The children were all getting so big, and he wasn't at all sure how he was going to manage them by himself.
He crossed to China and gave her a hug. "Good-bye, baby girl. I'll be seeing you in Cheyenne at the end of next week."
"You will be careful on the trail, Papa, won't you?" she admonished him, clinging a little tighter. "Remember what you promised."
He pressed his cheek to hers. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I remember. Everyone will be all right."
He left China in Meggie's care and blessed the girl for her bright, sweet smile and knowing eyes. Her visit to the ranch had helped China get over Matt's death as much as anything could. It pleased Baird to know that Ardith would be looking after the Jalberts' daughter when they reached Boston.
Down at the foot of the steps, Ardith and Khy were saying their own good-byes. Her words to Durban were as full of admonitions as his to Khy had been. Khy's tone when he spoke to his brother was filled with grudging admiration.
Ardith had stepped back as if she were returning to the porch, when Durban reached out to her. "Aunt Ardith?" he said, then bit his lip. "There—there's something I've been meaning to ask you. There's a real pretty place up in the hills, and I—I was wondering if you'd paint it for me?"
Ardith's face immediately softened. Durban never asked for much, and Baird could see Ardith would have painted the sky bright green if he'd asked her to.
While Durban gave directions, Buck hugged his wife one final time. "'Bout ready to start eating trail dust, Boss?"
Ardith was still standing down among the horses when Baird gathered up Dandy's reins. He wanted just one minute alone with her. One minute to hold her, to feel her heat and her humanity.
Instead he touched her hand. "Take good care of China and Khy," he said, staring at her mouth, wanting to kiss her so much he was scarcely aware of anything else.
"I will. And you keep an eye on Durban," she warned him.
Baird laughed and shook his head, as much to clear the wanting from his thoughts as anything else. "Like as not, he'll keep an eye on me."
"Try—" she began and stopped herself. "Try to make the most of this time on the trail. Don't let things you can't do anything about spoil these days for you."
Did she mean not to waste this time with Durban? Not to let his own disappointments spoil his last weeks in Wyoming? Or was Ardith referring to her acceptance of Gavin Rawlinson's proposal?
"I won't," he assured her because he knew he should.
He swung up into the saddle and followed Buck and the others toward where they'd pick up the herd. At the head of the rise to the south of the ranch, Baird paused and turned back.
Dawn was just breaking across the land, casting long gray shadows over miles of plains just quickening with gold. The rays of light crept up the mountains, casting their uneven faces in sharp relief, deepening the contrast between the rocks and the bristle of pines.
His eyes picked out the line of the creek high in the foothills and followed its course down toward the ranch. His gaze lingered on the rise where they'd laid Matt Hastings to rest, and the field where Khy had hunted butterflies. He studied the raw, hardscrabble buildings nestled low against the earth, the corral where he'd worked the horses, and the barn where he'd put up hay. A smile curled his mouth as he remembered Ardith making ice cream on the back steps of the house, and the dinner they'd had with the Jalberts.
This was the last time he would see this place, this country that had become so much a part of him. He wasn't sure how he was going to bear losing it, losing Ardith, losing the memories they'd made here. But there was no future for him in Wyoming.
At last, with great reluctance, he turned Dandy and galloped after the others.
* * *
Ardith nudged her horse up the long grassy slope.
"Now, just where did Durban say this valley was?" she murmured, as if Primrose had been listening the previous day when the boy had given her directions. She'd left Khy in China and Meggie's care and ridden out, ending up further east and south than she'd expected.
But as she topped the rise, Ardith saw how the land funneled sharply downhill into a valley that looked just the way Durban had described it. Sure she'd found what she was looking for, Ardith turned Primrose into the coulee and followed the churn of hoofprints.
The trail narrowed at the bottom, ran between two standing stones, then widened again beyond them. Ardith drew rein and looked around. Striated walls of red and gold protected a half-mile wide pelt of wavering grassland. A stand of pines climbed partway up the right-hand wall of the canyon, a stream lined with cottonwoods burbled off to her left. A golden wedge of aspens stood dead ahead. From there the canyon seemed to dogleg south.
"I can see why he asked me to paint this," Ardith confided to Primrose and nudged the pony forward.
As she picked her way along the course of the stream, she noticed the large herd of cattle grazing in the deep, sweet grass. It surprised her when she saw that the steer nearest her bore the Sugar Creek brand, and she wondered if Baird and Buck had come this far when they were looking for stock. She spotted a second Sugar Creek steer and then a third. More than a little curious, Ardith left the shade of the trees and rode nearer. As she did, she realized all the cattle she could on this side of the valley bore the Sugar Creek brand.
An odd, cold tingle worked its way up her back.
But before she could investigate further, two cowboys came splashing across the stream not a hundred yards ahead of her. Ardith did her best to ease back into the trees, but they had seen her.
As they rode closer she saw that they weren't like the hands she knew from the Sugar Creek. They were hard-faced men, bearded, unkempt and intimidating. Her nerves jangled with alarm. Just what had Durban gotten her into?
Her first impulse was to flee, but Primrose was known for
his lovely disposition, not his speed. She glanced quickly into the canvas bag hanging from the saddle horn to be sure her pistol was where she could reach it.
"You lost, ma'am?" the shorter man asked as he pulled up beside her.
Ardith gave him her very best smile. "Not lost exactly. I'm looking for something to paint."
The men glanced at the things she had tied to her saddle, her paint box and drawing board. A pad of paper and some brushes stuck out of her canvas bag.
"You that Boston woman who makes pictures for books?"
"Yes, I am."
"I heard the boss talkin' about her," the first hand said.
"Don't make no difference who she is," the second man answered. "She don't belong here."
Ardith's throat went dry. "I didn't realize I was trespassing," she apologized and began to ease Primrose back the way they'd come.
The taller man reached out and caught the horse's near side rein. "I think it best you come with us, ma'am, and we'll see what our foreman wants to do with you."
Panic rattled through her like a runaway freight train. Ardith wasn't easily intimidated, but she was alone with these men miles from home, and there was no telling what they had in mind.
"There's no need for that," she insisted. "If you don't want me here, I'll just go."
The man acted as if he hadn't heard and turned down the valley, dragging her and Primrose in his wake.
Ardith stole another glance at the pistol in her sack and fought down the urge to grab it and defend herself. But her only chance to ride out of here on her own terms lay in appearing to cooperate. She'd use the element of surprise and the pistol only if she needed to.
As the men led her beyond the dog-leg turn at the middle of the valley, Ardith saw there was a small, rough-hewn cabin on a rise at the far end. Several corrals had been built around back, and as they approached, Ardith saw a big, broad-shouldered bull in the nearest one. Recognition was instantaneous.
It was Randy! These men had stolen Khy's pet bull.
Her heart fluttered in her throat as she remembered how Durban had bent over and asked. How carefully he'd given her directions. Had he known there were rustlers here?
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