Her Winding Path (Seeing Ranch series) (A Historical Romance Book)

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Her Winding Path (Seeing Ranch series) (A Historical Romance Book) Page 11

by Florence Linnington


  Perhaps he had only lied to her because of the stress of everything. Regardless, she knew now that it had been wrong of her to become so infuriated over one little lie.

  “Do you really have a pocketknife?” she sighed.

  Tom blinked fast. “No. I have something else, though.”

  He placed his hand on the outside of his pocket, his eyes still steadfast on hers. “Come. Let’s find a quiet area.”

  The task proved to be a hard one, as there seemed to be bodies everywhere. Finally, they located a semi-private area behind the hanging laundry in the hotel’s backyard.

  “This is not as romantic as I had hoped it would be,” Tom commented.

  Ida Rose laughed. “What do you mean by romantic? Do not say you are about to propose to me,” she joked.

  “Something like that.”

  His serious tone made her grin vanish. Taking her hand in his, he gave it a light squeeze. “I regret that I was not able to propose to you in a more traditional way… A more romantic way.”

  “By that, I assume you mean in person.”

  “Yes.”

  His blue eyes stared her down, making Ida Rose feel as if another earthquake was occurring. The world seemed to be shaking, close to turning on its head. Though she did not know why Tom had brought her into the yard, it seemed something momentous was at play. She struggled for her next breath, afraid to inhale too loud lest she miss any of his words.

  “When I responded to your ad, I could not have imagined how much I was missing out on by never being able to properly propose to you.”

  Ida Rose felt herself blush. “It does not matter. We have so much else—and so many other things to think of right now.”

  Even as she said the words, though, she remembered Elizabeth’s story, how her future husband had climbed her balcony in the middle of the night to present her with a rose. It had been one of the sweetest stories Ida Rose had ever heard, and she could not help but wonder if Tom had inherited some of his father’s romantic inclinations.

  She also could not help but wish to receive them.

  “Everything is uncertain right now...” Tom tightened his hold on hers. “But that is why this is even more important.”

  Reaching into his pocket, he extracted a white handkerchief. As he finished unfolding it carefully in his palm, Ida Rose let out a gasp. The most beautiful diamond ring she had ever seen shone there. Cut in a teardrop shape and held in place by a silver band, it glowed like the sun itself.

  “That is…” She could not get out any more words.

  “This was my grandmother’s. My mother’s mother. She gave it to her when my parents married.”

  Ida Rose’s gaze snapped from the ring to his face. “But I thought Elizabeth’s parents did not approve of her marriage...”

  “Her father didn’t,” he grinned. “And I think my grandmother acted like she did not as well, to appease her husband. But just before my mother ran off, as she called it, my grandmother slipped her this. It was her engagement ring, but she didn’t wear it anymore. The way Mother tells it, the weight of the engagement and wedding rings combined were too much. No woman could wear both.”

  Ida Rose carefully touched the ring. Looking at the size of the diamond, she received a sense of just the kind of wealth Elizabeth had come from.

  “I was going to give it to you on our wedding day, but I want you to have a proper engagement ring.”

  Ida Rose opened her mouth, but she was like a fish gulping for water.

  Tom’s eyebrows slowly rose in question. “What do you think?”

  “It is...” Abruptly, giggles spilled from her chest. “It is beautiful!”

  “Here.” Smiling wide, he lifted her hand and slipped the ring on. Somehow, it fit perfectly. Ida Rose wiggled her fingers, looking from it to Tom, over and over again.

  “There was no pocketknife.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “There is. I just did not retrieve it.”

  “Hm. You had me rather annoyed, you know. I could tell you were lying to me.”

  “My apologies,” he replied, not sounding sorry in the slightest.

  “You really should work on fibbing, just in case you truly need it someday.”

  “Perhaps you can teach me how to properly do it.”

  She tried to look angry, but couldn’t stop the smile pushing its way onto her lips. “That was not a very nice thing to say, Thomas Adkins.”

  “My apologies for that as well.” He grinned.

  Ida Rose tilted her face up, getting the best view possible of his. “I have one more question… You are not going to give me another giant diamond on our wedding day, are you?”

  Tom threw his head back in laughter. “That’s the only family jewel. Sorry.”

  “Good,” she smiled. “Because I understand what your grandmother was talking about. This is heavy.”

  “So, you won’t be furious if I present you with a simple band?” he asked, pressing his hand against her back and stepping closer.

  “A simple band would be lovely,” she softly replied.

  Tom ducked his head down and his lips brushed ever so gently against hers. It was a touch as light as a feather, but it sent delicious chills all the way into her toes.

  “Hi, now,” called a female voice.

  Ida Rose gasped and she and Tom quickly stepped apart. Only a few feet away, Mrs. Garrison gathered the sheets from the clothesline and stuffed them into her basket, a knowing look on her face.

  “Don’t worry.” She mischievously winked. “I was young once, too.”

  16

  16. Tom

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tom’s back ached as he swung off Chestnut and led her into the stable. Several more hours of riding around had proved just as fruitless as the day before. With the sun fully set, Sheriff Mayes had sent the group home, saying that they needed to get a good night’s rest before striking out again.

  While some of the men felt comforted by the fact that no more traces of the bandits had been found, Tom couldn’t join them. Every time he wanted to believe the criminals were gone, he thought about the campfire he had seen down by the creek. He got the sense that, somehow, the bandits had known someone was watching them and that was what had made them strike camp and leave.

  Temporarily, that was. If they had moved on from Shallow Springs, it was only a matter of time before they came back around. The downside to the area being such a peaceful place was that, just as Tom had pointed out to Ida Rose, there was a serious lack of a police force—it just didn’t exist at all.

  Pushing the stable door open, he guided Chestnut along the edge of the stalls. The other two horses neighed softly when they saw their companion come in. Did they wonder where Acorn was? Did horses even have that kind of mental capacity?

  A clanging rang through the stable, making Tom freeze in his tracks.

  Holding in his breath, he listened carefully for any more noises—and that’s when he remembered the stable had been open. Hadn’t he put the lock on before leaving earlier in the day?

  “Who’s there?” he asked, making his voice as forceful as he could.

  “It’s just me, boss. Sorry. I kicked over that old milk pail.”

  Tom sighed in relief, biting back a curse. “Eddie, what are you doing in here in the dark?”

  “Just thinking.”

  “Light the lantern, will you?”

  There was some shuffling around, the striking of matches, and then, the lantern’s light bloomed through the small stable. Eddie hung it on a hook near the doors, a sheepish look on his face.

  “I’d forgotten I gave you a key.” Tom opened Chestnut’s stable and the horse went right in, eager to get to her late dinner. “You’re thinking in the dark stable, huh? You know how odd that makes you sound?”

  “Yeah,” he slowly said, sticking his hands in his front pockets and looking at the ground.

  Tom checked Chestnut’s water, then filled her feed bucket up with grain. “What are you doi
ng here, anyway? You should be home with your family. It’s not safe to be out.”

  “I was waiting for you… I wanted to ask if you all would take me with tomorrow. I can help look for the bandits.”

  Tom paused. The kid had gumption. He also had no real sense.

  “It’s not what it seems like, Eddie.”

  “I don’t think it’s a game,” he quickly said, like this wasn’t a new argument for him. “I can ride just as well as anyone else and I know how to shoot a gun.”

  “Good. Then go home and watch out for your Ma and siblings.”

  Eddie grumbled something under his breath, but Tom didn’t pay it any mind. “Go on. And don’t take the road. Cut across the back fields.”

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Are you gonna stay here all night by yourself?”

  “I have to look after the animals.”

  “I can help. You shouldn’t be here all alone.”

  Tom’s chest warmed at the offer. He wanted to accept it, to tell Eddie to haul himself into the house and get set up in one of the two empty bedrooms, but he couldn’t do that. The boy’s family needed him and the almost-empty farm wasn’t a safe place for anyone.

  “Don’t worry about me,” he forcefully said, needing Eddie to know this was the end of the conversation. “Now, you get on home. Your family needs you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Shoulders slumped, he turned and left the stable. Tom watched until he was swallowed up in the dark. Eddie’s journey home would be a short one. Even though he was taking it alone, he’d be less of a target than if he stayed at the farm, where there were horses to rustle and household items to pilfer.

  Working in the soft light, Tom filled the horses’ water bins before killing the lantern. Ears still cocked for any strange noises, he locked up the stable and slipped into the house.

  The front room was just as dark as the stable had been, but colder somehow. Stifled. Oppressed. Moving close along the wall, he went to the end of the hall and stood between the two bedrooms.

  And stood.

  He couldn’t enter the room that he’d grown up in. Now that Ida Rose had spent many nights in it, it was different. He never wanted to rest his head in there again unless she was by his side.

  Turning on his heel, he left the dark house. Red popped out of the night and joined him at the heel as they crossed the yard and entered the barn.

  Halfway up the hayloft, Tom glanced down at the old sheepdog. “You want up, boy?”

  Red’s tail thumped against the ground.

  Tom hesitated, but then climbed back down. “Can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered to himself. Crouching as low as he could, he hefted the giant dog into his arms and precariously made his way back up the ladder.

  “We fall and you’ll crush me,” Tom grunted to the dog as he took another uncertain step.

  His paws hitting the boards, Red ran over to the nest of blankets in the center of the loft. Spinning around several times, he lay down with a content sigh.

  “Scoot over.” Tom nudged the dog, then settled down on the soft bed of hay and pulled a blanket over himself.

  The night wrapped in around them, more silent and expansive than Tom could ever remember it being. Everyone else seemed so far away. Eddie… his mother… Ida Rose.

  At least she was safe. It didn’t matter what happened to Tom as long as he did the right thing for the woman…

  “The woman I love,” he sleepily muttered to the sheepdog as his eyes drifted closed.

  17

  17. Ida Rose

  Chapter Seventeen

  Twenty-one hours. That was how long it had been since Ida Rose had last seen Tom.

  Standing at the hotel window, she twisted the diamond ring against her finger. Each time she touched it, it brought a small amount of peace to her heart. Tom would probably never know just how much the gift had meant to her, for it was more than simply an engagement ring. It was a promise that they had a future together. It was an assurance that she was his.

  Across the yard, the clothesline sagged, burdened with the kind of weight it wasn’t used to. With the hotel packed past comfortable capacity, each bit of it was being thoroughly broken in. As the line did not having enough space for everyone there, children’s pants and socks were stretched out in the grass to dry.

  Though no one’s fault, it was cruel that the room Ida Rose shared with four others should overlook the very spot where she had last said goodbye to Tom. Now, with the kitchen already cleaned up from breakfast and another group of women busily preparing the midday meal, she had nothing to do but stare forlornly out the window.

  The door opened, making her spin around in guilt.

  Gemma folded her arms and gave Ida Rose a reprimanding look. “Just as I expected. You are up here sulking.”

  “No,” Ida Rose frowned.

  “Oh, you are simply counting the clouds?”

  “Yes.” She haughtily lifted her chin. “Perhaps I am.”

  Rolling her eyes, Gemma seized Ida Rose’s hand and hauled her for the door. “I would think after one night in this room, you would be sick of it. Come downstairs.”

  “I don’t want to right now.”

  They stopped in the barren hallway. Before, Ida Rose had been told, it had contained a magnificent grandfather clock, which was destroyed in the earthquake. Now, it stood empty, waiting for someone to come along and fill it with housewarming objects once more.

  “We are throwing a party.” Gemma clasped her hands together and smiled.

  “A party?” she dumbly repeated.

  Gemma’s face fell. “Yes. It was my idea. You do not have to look so sullen about it.”

  Ida Rose’s fingers instinctively found the ring once more. “How can you think of having fun right now?”

  “Truth be told, the only thing I can think of is horrible things, and that is why we need a party to take our mind off it all. Perhaps it will even draw some of the men in, if only for an hour or two.”

  “Hmm… I suppose there is nothing better to be done.”

  “And that is the full truth! Come.”

  Seizing her hand once more, Gemma yanked her to the staircase and down into the hotel’s restaurant area. Some of the tables from the old hotel had been salvaged. Though cracked in a few places, they were still good to use and were pushed up against the walls. In the middle of the floor, several children stretched out on their stomachs, drawing designs on long sheets of white fabric.

  “Old dress fabric from the general store,” Gemma explained. “It got all stained and mussed up so badly, you can’t make anything out of it now. It makes for great decorations, though.”

  Ida Rose smiled. “That is innovative.”

  “You and I will be making the paper chains.”

  They settled down at one of the tables, where stacks of old newspapers waited. Gemma showed her how to cut and secure strips so that they were linked together in a long paper chain.

  “This is fun,” Ida Rose admitted once she had a rather short chain made. “But I can’t help but think I should be out at the farm.”

  Gemma made a face. “I know. Just think of how the men are getting by without us.”

  “They’re not.”

  Gemma laughed. “They are probably eating everything cold, as they do not know how to light the cook stoves.”

  Ida Rose chuckled a bit, but the idea of Tom all alone at the farm, eating cold hominy or dried beef made her sad once more. And that was the best imaginable scenario. There was still the danger of bandits. All alone on a farm, Tom was the perfect target.

  “No frowning,” Gemma reprimanded.

  “Hmpf.”

  “Oh, Mitch stopped by earlier while you were upstairs sulking. He is going to come to the party tonight and he is going to make Tom come as well.”

  The news lit a spark in Ida Rose’s heart. Immediately, though, the doubts began to set in. “He is probably too worried to leave
the farm.”

  What good one man would do against a horde of criminals, she did not know. In her mind, there wasn’t much protecting of the farm that could be done. If the bandits were going to take Tom’s horses and whatever else they wanted, then they would do just that—and likely shoot anyone who was in their way.

 

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