A Soft Kiss in Winter
Page 17
“He’ll come down.”
Graham’s soft voice drew her gaze. “I hope you’re right.”
“I am. He’ll come for you.” He grinned. “But if for some insane reason he doesn’t, I’ll personally go back up there and drag his worthless hide all the way back to your door.”
Her mood was lighter when they reached his house. It was modest but cozy. As she settled into Gideon’s empty room, her thoughts still on Graham’s words, she prayed he was right. As much as she wanted to see her parents again, at the moment, she wanted to see Gideon more.”
The cabin was quiet. Gideon had sat in his chair staring at the fireplace more nights than he could remember and not once had it bothered him to be alone.
Now—it did.
The silence caused the voices in his head to scream what an idiot he was while visions of Victoria flashed through his mind to remind him of what he let walk right out the door and never once tried to stop. He was tormented with the question of, what if when she found out about Nora she didn’t look at him differently or think less about him? What if she wouldn't have cared?
You’ll never know now.
He tipped the jar of moonshine he had into the cup beside him and took another drink, regret making the burn it left behind nearly choke him. The fact he hadn’t followed Graham and Victoria once they left the waterfall would eat away at him until he was too drunk to think about it anymore.
Everything in him told him to go, to chase her down the mountain but fear and plain stubbornness made him turn back and as he sat there, staring at the fire dancing over the split logs in the fireplace, he wished he would have gone.
It was too quiet here now. The creek of tree limbs and the whistle of wind blowing against the cabin were the only things he had for company. The sound of Victoria’s laughter was missed, the way she looked at him making him ache clean to the bone.
Downing the moonshine, he set the cup aside and leaned his head back. He should go to town, beg Victoria to forgive him for acting so horrible to her and live with the consequences of his actions, even if she told him to never speak to her again. A peek out the window showed it was nearly full dark. He’d never make it down tonight, even if he left this instant. He’d have to wait until morning.
If by morning he hadn’t changed his mind again.
He sighed and stood, the room spinning as he did. Drinking on an empty stomach was never a good idea but the stove was cold. Not that it mattered. The stew’s nearly gone anyway, not to mention, he’d eaten it for so many days he grew sick of it.
The door to the cellar was harder to pull up than it should have been. He stared down into the darkness and contemplated the stairs. Did he have enough sense about him to walk down them and not break his fool neck?
A noise by the front door drew his attention and he squinted at it. It sounded like a voice. Had Victoria come back? Had Graham turned them around instead of going to town?
The wind whistling against the cabin a moment later told him it wasn’t her he’d heard, but his imagination longing for things he couldn’t have. The window showed nothing beyond it but blackness. It was too dark for Graham and Victoria to be out there and his brother wouldn’t have risked the trip if he knew he wouldn’t have made it before nightfall.
He pushed thoughts of Victoria away and turned back to the cellar. He grabbed the lamp closest to him and carefully walked down the steps, holding the floor framing so he didn’t fall.
The shelves were getting bare again. He set the lamp on the table and took a mental inventory of what he needed to bring up next time he made it to town and looked for something he could eat now that didn’t require the use of the stove and an hours-long wait. He settled for dried meat and a jar of pickled eggs. Not exactly the best meal but it would fill the empty hole gnawing in his belly. He climbed the steps, set what was in his hands on the table and looked up when he heard another noise outside the door.
Was someone out there? He took a step toward the door and jumped back when it flew open, two men barging inside. They didn’t give him time to ask who they were before one raised his arm, his fist flying toward his face so fast he didn’t have time to duck.
The impact caused stars to flash behind his eyelids, their voices so loud inside his head it throbbed. Someone grabbed him, shoved him back three steps and then he was falling. He grunted as he hit the floor of the cellar, the wind knocked out of him. He gasped and tried to catch his breath as pain shot up his left arm. He laid on the dirt floor, panting for breath and opened his eyes, looking up in time to see the two men who’d busted inside the cabin staring down at him.
The smaller of the two grinned. “Remember us, you bastard?”
It took him a moment, but Gideon recognized them. They were the two men who ran away when he found Victoria. Anger surged through his veins as he remembered the day, remembered hearing her screams echoing through the trees, remembered seeing her beat and bloodied face and the terror in her eyes.
Yes, he remembered these two all right, and he was going to kill them both.
Chapter 19
The sun shining over the mountain lit the front of the house and warmed it enough Victoria wasn’t left shivering as she stared up at the waterfall. She could still see it from here and smiled around the rim of her mug at the sight.
Graham’s coffee making skills were lacking but she would never tell him as much. She’d taken the cup gratefully and stepped outside for a breath of fresh air as smoke from the stove made it hard to breathe. Not to mention she was alone in a house with a man she didn’t know. Being alone with him felt—odd. She’d experienced the same unease when Gideon had found her and it had taken nearly a week before she felt completely comfortable. Graham hadn’t said anything to her to make her feel unwelcome but she’d retreated and put a bit of distance between them and had been out here close to an hour now while searching every inch of the mountain in the distance.
The trail they’d used to come down the mountain could be seen clear as day. The hope of spotting a lone figure moving in the snow died a little more every minute and she reminded herself that Gideon wouldn’t have risked coming down in the dark. He would have waited until this morning before leaving. He’d be here by nightfall. “Please come find me, Gideon.” The whispered plea was useless but she repeated it all the same.
The fear he wouldn’t come down caused her mood to darken. She’d spent most of the night trying to figure out what to do. With the telegraph broken, she couldn’t wire her parents and she had no money to catch a stagecoach to the next town where she could, so she was stuck and at Graham’s mercy. She knew he wouldn’t be so cruel as to make her leave but a glance to her right gave her a full view of the town. It wasn’t big, which made her stay with Graham even more unseemly. What would the townsfolk say about an unmarried woman living with a single man? Would they think unkindly of her? Of Graham? And what about Gideon? What did they think of him?
The door opened and shut behind her and she saw Graham out of the corner of her eye. He leaned one broad shoulder on the porch railing, his gaze on the mountain as hers had been.
He looked much like Gideon except his hair was light in color, a rich blonde with streaks of copper and light brown. They shared the same color of eyes, although Graham’s were a lighter gray than Gideon’s. Both wore a full beard, clipped close to his jaw. He was broad-shouldered like Gideon and they were both about the same height. The only real difference she’d seen between the two was Graham was quick to smile, something Gideon did very little of.
Graham hadn’t said anything since coming outside but finally turned his head her way. “So what’s the plan, Victoria?”
“Good question. I was asking myself the same thing before you came out.”
He put his back to the rail and looked past her toward the small town of Silver Falls. “You can start by exploring the town. There’s not much there but if you plan on staying, getting to know the townsfolk might help you settle in quicker.”
“They think he’s odd and they’re right.” He grinned. “Of course, everyone is a bit odd, don’t you think?”
He had a point.
“Most everyone who lives here knows what happened. There aren’t many strangers here so the fire and Nora’s death isn’t a secret. No one mentions it much anymore but when Gideon is here, people like to gossip.”
“You said he doesn’t leave the house.”
“He doesn’t, but we’re not so far away they can’t see two people walking around down here. Hell, they probably see us now, tongues wagging over me being shacked up with a woman.” He wiggled his eyebrows and took another sip of his horrible coffee.
As much as she hated to admit it, he was probably right. People would talk until they knew the truth and who better to give it to them but her?
Of course, what it was exactly she told them was a problem. Should she mention her relationship with Gideon? Or just tell them what happened and let them think what they would? Not that it really mattered in the end. They’d think what they wanted regardless if she told them the truth or fabricated a lie bigger than the Montana sky.
She finished her coffee as she stared at the town. She’d take a trip back in today and have a look around as Graham suggested. Maybe she’d even get lucky and find the old man in the tartan she’d run into yesterday. She smiled and hoped she did.
Gideon was pretty sure his arm was broken. It hurt to move it and it had throbbed all night long, along with his ribs. Of course, being thrown down a flight of stairs and hitting the hard dirt floor at the bottom didn’t do him any favors. Nor did the foot the skinny bastard who came down to raid the pantry shelves planted into his side.
The lamp had gone out sometime during the night. Most of the room was in darkness but he could see a faint light coming from the floorboards above. He hadn’t heard them stir yet but he’d tried the door. It didn’t budge. They’d shoved something through the latch or sat something on it too heavy to move by himself.
He leaned against the wall and stared at the shelf across from him, thoughts on what the two sleeping in his bed and eating his food planned to do with him and for the first time since Victoria left, he was glad she’d gone with Graham. Had she been here—
He let his last thought go. Thinking about the could have been’s would only make him crazy and right now, he needed his wits about him. He had to get out of here, snatch the breath from the two upstairs and get down the mountain and talk to Victoria before she had a chance to leave.
The floorboards above creaked, the light coming through the slats shifting as someone walked past the cellar door. He heard someone cough, rattle the coffee pot on the stove, then yell, “Hank, get in here and light the stove. This fella has a whole mess of coffee and I aim to drink all my gut will hold.”
Gideon listened to them talk and move about for nearly an hour before the cellar door swung open. The skinniest of the two, the first one he’d seen with the threadbare coat squatted near the steps and grinned down at him.
“Did you sleep well, buttercup?” He grinned, his blackened teeth alluding to the fact these two drifters took very little care of themselves. “I sure as hell did,” he said. “Thanks to you running off our horses we’ve been sleeping on the snow-covered ground since you shot Ira but that fluffy bed of yours felt migh-ty fine. I almost forgive you for leaving us high and dry.” He shifted, the smile on his face widening. “Your pillows smelled awful sweet and I know for a fact you took that woman after you shot Ira so, what did you do with her? Was she a wild-cat in the bed? She sure as hell acted as if she was.” He laughed, the other one stepping into view. “Tell me, how’d her titties look bouncing as she rode you.”
“Shut your mouth,” He lunged to his feet and regretted it as every bone in his body protested. The skinny little fool laughed and slammed the door down causing dirt and dust to fall into his eyes. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, his jaw locked tight.
His left arm was tucked in close to his body and pain was shooting up and down the limb from wrist to elbow. If he knew he wouldn’t cause more damage he’d beat the door off its hinges. He’d sat here all night wondering what these two wanted. As they made themselves at home, it became clear. They didn’t want anything and they didn’t look to be in any hurry to leave.
The moon lit the valley, the light glistening off the snow on the mountain. Gideon hadn’t come home as Graham said he would.
Victoria spent most of the day in town, talking with the Campbell sisters. They, along with their grandfather, Ewan, owned the mercantile. Rose, the eldest, kept one eye on the door the entire time she was there and asked several times if Graham was coming to fetch her. The redhead seemed annoyed at the prospect of seeing him again and Victoria wondered what history the two had. Neither seemed to like the other.
Violet, had introduced her to the remaining sister, the youngest of the three, Daisy. They were pleasant to talk to but her attention had been on Ewan most of the time she’d been there. He regaled her with stories of his ancestors, showed her the sword he wore strapped around his waist that he said belonged to the Campbell chieftain many generations back and went into great detail about the highland warriors who made the Campbell name feared and respected.
She’d met a few other ladies once Ewan left for his noon nap and even saw the first Indian she’d ever clapped eyes on. The girl looked around her own age. Her black hair was long and silky and the buckskin dress and shoes she wore was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. But as beautiful as she’d been, it was the sadness in the girl’s eyes that drew Victoria’s attention. Morning Dove, she’d been told was the girl’s name, belonged to an old man who lived at the base of the mountain. If what Daisy told her about him was true, there was no wonder the poor girl looked so sad.
But as much as she enjoyed her time with those she met, stepping back out onto the sidewalks and looking toward the mountain had given her the most joy—and heartache.
She sighed and leaned her head against the post at her right. Graham had sworn to her Gideon would come down but with every hour that ticked by, she began to doubt. The doubt led to fear, and before she could stop it she’d convinced herself Gideon didn’t even want her. That he’d only wanted what most men wanted from a woman and she’d not been special to him at all. She’d just—been there.
Would it matter to him if he knew she loved him? Would he draw her near or push her away if she confessed her feelings?
It didn’t matter, she decided. Whether he wanted her or not, she’d tell him anyway. If he didn’t want her forever, she could leave Silver Falls knowing she’d tried. Leaving without letting him know how much she loved him would gain her nothing so she’d tell him and see what happened. If he didn’t return her feelings, she’d go home to Chicago and hold the memories of him close to her heart for the rest of her days.
The door creaked behind her. She didn’t turn or acknowledge Graham as he stepped up to the rail on the porch. They stood in silence and stared at the sky, the moon shining bright with hundreds of stars twinkling ahead of the clouds rolling in.
Neither spoke and the longer she stood there staring at that mountain, the more she wanted to climb back up it. She wondered what Graham would say if she told him. He’d probably tell her it was foolish, that Gideon would come down, and he was probably right, but it didn’t make the desire to do it any less appealing.
A shout echoed across the valley and they both turned their heads to look toward town. The dark outline of buildings could be seen as the moon shined down on them and a few lights lit the windows. Angry voices filled the air and she looked at Graham. “Is that normal in Silver Falls? People yelling at night?”
“No.” He crossed his arms over his chest and turned his body toward the sound of the raised voices. “Silver Falls is pretty quiet. Whatever is going on c
an’t be good.”
The moment the words were out of his mouth, the sound of gunfire echoed loud enough to make her jump. The shouting escalated, followed by a scream, and when Graham took off at a dead run toward town, she followed right behind him.
By the time she reached the commotion, the townsfolk were gathered along the wooden sidewalks, huddled in small groups, and Victoria stayed near the back, her curiosity not peeked enough to make her walk into a situation where people were shooting at each other.
The Indian girl she’d seen earlier was crumpled in the street, tears staining her cheeks as Rose and an older lady tried to help her up. An older man lay near her feet, a dark smudge on the front of his shirt growing by the second. He’d been shot.
A young man stood to one side. He was tall, his hat obscuring most of his face, but the gun in his hand was enough to tell anyone looking he’s the one who shot the old man.
Victoria lingered near the edge of the buildings, half listening as the details of what happened were repeated. Aaron Hilam, the drifter who’d shot the old man who lived with Morning Dove, insisted the old man pulled his gun first. She wasn’t sure how things like this were handled out west but she didn’t imagine one could go around shooting people and not being arrested for doing so.
The man who’d jumped into her wagon and nearly beat her senseless before Gideon showed up and shot him came to mind. Would Gideon go to jail for killing him? She didn’t remember much of that day but that foul man deserved everything he got and she wished the other two hadn’t run away. They were guilty as well. They hadn’t touched her at that point but they would have. They’d been waiting their turn.