by Jillian Hart
“You grew up in Ohio?” she asked, wondering if that was what gave him the smooth tones.
“I forget you don’t know much about me,” he replied with a slow nod.
They were silent for a moment, neither moving even though a fine mist of snow had started falling on them. Eleanor felt it on her face, but it wasn’t cold like it had been earlier. She hadn’t given the stars another thought since Adam had come to stand in front of her. Maybe the warmth she was feeling came from him? she wondered. She knew it wasn’t just the blankets.
“You’re a courageous woman,” he said as he reached out his hand and brushed the melted snow off of her cheek. “Marrying a stranger like me.”
She felt herself blush. She wasn’t used to compliments.
And then he cupped her cheek and rubbed his thumb across her skin. “Beautiful, too.”
She stepped back and shook her head. “My hair is bright as brass, and I’m too large.”
“Oh?” he said with a frown.
She nodded emphatically. “Men like little women. I’m too tall and filled out.”
At that he chuckled quietly. “I happen to like my woman tall and, as you say, filled out.”
“No, you don’t,” she said without thinking. She wasn’t supposed to know what kind of women he liked, but she did. She’d seen the woman’s face in the tintype. Catherine had been slight and fragile, a true lady’s dream.
The cold came between them until, even with the extra blanket, Eleanor started to shiver. She moved to step around Adam so she could go back to the house, but he put a hand out to stop her.
“I want you to know I intend to be a good husband to you,” he said, his voice deep and raspy. “You don’t need to lose sleep worrying about me.”
“I—” Eleanor began and stopped. She couldn’t tell him what was troubling her. Not when he was looking at her so seriously. So she nodded.
Then he cupped her chin again and tilted her face up to him.
“I’ll always think of you in the moonlight,” he said, and then he kissed her.
Eleanor thought her heart would stop as his lips pressed lightly to hers. But it was nothing, she tried to convince herself. It was just that the kiss was unexpected.
When Adam lifted his head, she couldn’t think what to say, but she opened her mouth, anyway. “I’ve been kissed before.”
“Oh?” he asked.
She nodded. “He was one of the groomsmen on the estate. He walked with me in the gardens one night so I could tell him about the stars.”
“I see,” Adam added.
“It was nothing like this,” Eleanor said, her misery shining through in her words, and turned to go back to the house. This time he didn’t stop her, and she walked as fast as she could because she didn’t want him to know that tears were streaming down her cheeks.
Lord, what have I done? she prayed as she opened the door and slipped back into the cabin. I’m not supposed to care about him. The marriage was only to be for Hannah’s sake. I can’t possibly want to be his wife for my sake.
* * *
Adam stood in the moonlight and wondered what he had done wrong. Unless he was mistaken, he had seen the glisten of tears in Eleanor’s eyes before she rushed off. He’d been surprised when he’d heard someone leave the cabin, because he knew it had to be her. The fact that she was restless, no doubt because she was going to marry him tomorrow, reminded him of how solemn the vows were that they were going to take.
They were pledging to be a family together, to work and make a life here on this land.
He never meant to kiss her, though. That had been an impulse, and he didn’t usually give in to those. He hadn’t expected the open sweetness that shone out of Eleanor. He’d noticed it earlier, but as she stood there looking up at the skies it became enticing. It didn’t make any sense, really. She just seemed more alive than most people.
He thought about it a moment and decided that was it. He was used to women who kept their emotions hidden, wearing polite faces of interest even when listening to the dullest of topics and showing only tepid enjoyment in everything else. Their laughter was staged as often as not and a man never knew what these ladies thought. It had certainly been true of Catherine, anyway. But there was nothing hidden or subdued about Eleanor.
She was, in fact, more vibrant than he was.
He had the uneasy feeling that she might expect more from him in marriage than he had the heart to give. What did a man do when he was a burned-out husk who couldn’t risk loving someone again?
It wasn’t the fire that had shown him what kind of a man he was, either. It had come to him with the slowly growing coldness that had entered his marriage long before the fire ever happened. There wasn’t a specific day, but he remembered glimpses of unease until he finally realized that Catherine was play-acting around him. She might be herself with other people, but not with him.
Some days he had longed for a friend to sit down and talk with, but she would get up and leave the room if he said anything serious. The only thing she seemed to want was for him to play the beau unceasingly, flirting and talking nonsense. He wondered at times why he hadn’t noticed that they had never talked about anything of substance when they had been courting.
Remembering, though, made Eleanor seem suddenly precious to him.
With one last look up at the stars, he walked back to the shelter and settled down on his bed of hay. Tomorrow would come soon enough, he thought as he remembered that Eleanor had gone outside, probably to pray her way past her nervousness. He used to turn to God with his troubles, but it seemed a long time ago. He wondered if he’d ever have that kind of faith again. Maybe tomorrow, when he spoke to the reverend, he would ask if there was hope for a man like him. He’d like to feel God’s presence the way he used to when he had been young.
He lay there for a time and then, just before he drifted off to sleep, he heard the faint sound of wood being placed onto the fire on the other side of the wall. He put his hand up and felt the warm rocks that formed the back of the fireplace and it comforted him. Eleanor was remembering her promise to keep the fire going for him. Well, he chuckled, for him and the horses, no doubt. She did seem to love animals.
Chapter Four
It was barely light when a noise woke Adam abruptly the next morning. He reached for his rifle, thinking he was still sleeping on the flat windswept prairie with his troops. Then he realized that, even though the packed dirt beneath him was cold enough to be outside, he could actually see walls around him. The shadows in the place took shape until he saw his two horses standing in a crude stall on the other side of the structure. The animals must have awakened him, he thought as he rolled over. The dried hay he’d bedded down in last night shifted as he moved and gave off a fine dust that made him cough.
He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair to dislodge any pieces of hay. Then he felt his hair again to be sure it was all gone. No woman, he told himself with a grin, wanted to marry a man with straw in his hair. Not even a woman who liked animals as much as Eleanor apparently did.
He looked around more as he savored the fact that this was his wedding day. When he first set up the arrangement, he’d seen it as a practical solution to his problem of caring for Hannah. But after meeting Eleanor, he knew the union might hold joy for him, too.
So, he told himself, it was fitting that he woke up to meet the dawn. The subdued light was coming through the logs where the chinking had worn away. Then he noticed that snow was coming inside along with it. A few inches had even settled along the wide crack under the door. He had a lot of work to do before this place was snug. He suspected his new wife would insist he work on the animal’s shelter before he worried about the house itself, he thought with a grin.
Suddenly, he became aware of the strength of the wind and stood up, intending to crack the door open so he could see how bad the storm was. He had barely swung it an inch outward when a bitter cold gust blew at him, almost pressing the door closed again. He
had to stand with his shoulders braced to keep it open. As dark as it was inside the shelter, everything outside was startling white. And the snow felt like ice as it beat against his face as he stood there, looking out at the landscape.
When he saw the depth of the snow and the ferocity of the storm, his heart sank. All the plans he had made for them to go to Miles City today disappeared. No one was going to be able to travel anywhere in this weather, especially not in an open wagon. He’d had disappointing days before, but none like this.
He hoped his bride was as faithful to God as she seemed to be. Many women, who did not believe God controlled such matters as the weather, would say the storm was an omen that meant the marriage they’d planned for that day was doomed. It didn’t always take much to turn a woman against a man, and Eleanor had only met him yesterday. He didn’t know what he would do if she decided to go back home to Mrs. Stout and her sheep. Hopefully, Eleanor could understand that the weather was only a temporary delay.
Please, Lord, he said in a tentative prayer. It had been a long time since he’d talked to God and he was hesitant to do so now. This was important, though. I have no right to ask, but could You make Eleanor happy to stay?
He was trying to think of what else he should add to his prayer when he heard a sound in the distant swirling blizzard. He cocked his head so he could listen more closely. He thought it was a horse’s neigh, but there were no neighbors near enough for him to hear their animals. Squinting into the wind, he struggled to see what was out there. It wasn’t until one of his horses answered the call that Adam knew he hadn’t imagined the sound. Someone was riding a horse close by—even though, to his experienced eye, only a fool would travel in a blizzard like this.
He closed the door and hurried to put his boots on so he could find out who was coming. Whoever they were, they must need help. He didn’t know what else would compel a man to venture forth in this kind of weather. He stood before the door a second time and braced himself. Even with that, the force of the wind almost blew the door off its leather hinges before he was able to step out and close it again.
As he turned the corner, he could see the dark shape of a rider on a horse moving slowly toward the house. Adam fought to walk to the door of the house, and then he pounded so he could be heard inside. The horse and rider came closer and he relaxed. The man out in this weather was a fool all right. He smiled as he recognized his neighbor, Jake Hargrove.
Adam was ready to knock again when he heard the latch slide and the door move slightly. When he looked down, Eleanor was peering through the small slit in the door. He doubted she could see out into the snow any more than he had been able to earlier.
“We’ve got a visitor,” he yelled through the opening, hoping she could hear above the sound of the storm. “I’ll stay out and take care of his horse. I just wanted you to know so you’re—”
He could see by both the blush on her cheeks and what little of her pink dress that was visible through the slit in the door that she was ready for company, so he didn’t go further.
By that time, Jake was sliding off his horse. The man had a cut-off piece of blanket wrapped around his ears and a Stetson hat pushed down to cover everything, but ice had still crusted in his beard and snow had fallen on the shoulders of his buckskin jacket even with a buffalo robe wrapped around him.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Jake said as he held out his hand. “It’s about time you got home so you can marry this new bride of yours.”
Adam smiled as he shook the man’s hand and then held out his other hand to take the reins of the horse. “I’ll walk him around back and feed him some oats. You just go on in and get warm.”
Jake nodded and turned to the house. Eleanor had been waiting and opened the door enough for him to slip through.
“Come along, old boy,” Adam said as he tugged on the reins and started to lead the horse around the corner so they could go inside the shelter.
It didn’t take long for Adam to rub the horse down and give it some of the hay that he’d used for his bed last night. Then he gave all of the horses some oats. Fortunately, he’d brought a good supply of feed out in the wagon with him because he hadn’t ordered that from the mercantile. Later this morning, he’d melt some of the snow so the horses would have something fresh to drink. Either that or he’d have to take that bucket down to the creek and chop a hole in the ice to find water.
The horses were eating contentedly as he slipped out the door. The wind seemed to have died down some because he could see more clearly. He followed the sides of the house until he could reach out and knock.
Eleanor opened the door enough for him to enter, all the while keeping it partially closed to preserve the heat inside. The warmth made his fingers tingle as he took off his gloves and walked farther into the room. The air was damp, but he realized it was from the steam rising from the kettle on the cook stove.
The window was frosted and not much light came through, but the fireplace gave off a soft glow that lit the cabin well enough.
“Would you like something hot to drink?” Eleanor asked as she gestured to the table where Jake sat with one of the tin cups cradled in his hands. “You need to warm up.”
“It smells good,” he said in surprise. He had a bit of green coffee in his saddle bags, left over from the supplies he’d used when he’d been out on patrol. He should have brought it inside last night, but he’d bring it later. Eleanor clearly didn’t need it now. He was curious about what she was serving.
“I packed some rose hips with me,” Eleanor said as she walked over to the stove and poured some boiling water into the other tin cup. She then added something from a linen pouch. “It’s not exactly tea, but it’s good for you. I sometimes put hibiscus petals with it if I have any.”
“I’ve already made her promise to tell Elizabeth how to make it,” Jake said as he lifted his cup to take another drink. “I like it. Reminds me of something my father used to drink.”
Adam nodded as he sat down on one of the trunks they were using for chairs by the table. It wasn’t often that Jake mentioned either of his deceased parents. “Is everything okay over at your place?”
Jake grinned. “I told Elizabeth anyone who saw me out there today would be worried about that. No one with any sense goes out on a day like this, but Elizabeth kept fretting about Eleanor until I said I’d ride over and see her. My wife wanted me to bring her back to our place for Christmas, but now that you’re all here, I can tell Elizabeth she won’t be alone.”
“That’s kind of you,” Adam said, a picture coming to his mind of how dreary it would have been for Eleanor if he hadn’t been able to come home in time for the holiday.
“I appreciate it,” he added to show how much he valued his friend’s effort.
Of course, Jake knew how to survive worse storms than this one. He had been raised deep in the mountains west of here, staying with the Lakota Sioux part of the time, and he could hold his own in the winter. His wife was a nice, sensible woman, too, even though she’d come from the East. She wouldn’t let him go out if she had any doubts he would return.
“Well, if it was up to Elizabeth, no one anywhere would be alone for Christmas,” Jake said with a rueful shake of his head. “I tell her some folks like to spend the day with no one else around to pester them. They might enjoy some peace and quiet, I say. But she doesn’t agree.
“She insisted I invite a couple of my trapper friends for dinner last Christmas,” he continued fondly. “She wouldn’t take no for an answer. I expected them to refuse, but they came and almost burst into tears like babies when she brought out the apple pie she’d made for dessert. They swore they’d died and gone to heaven when they took their first bite. She had to promise to make them another pie just to get them to leave. Now every time I see them they want some pie.”
There was a rustle in the doorway between the two rooms and Adam looked up to see his mother push back the curtain and come out, fully dressed in her best maroon
outfit and her hair twisted into a bun that he knew would accommodate one of those hats she liked to wear.
Adam stood at the same time his neighbor did. He was pleased that his mother had put on her church clothes; she must have assumed the trip into town was still the plan for the day. Her clothes were a mark of the respect she had for his wedding ceremony and that made him feel good. She had come around to his way of thinking it seemed. They all needed Eleanor.
“I’d like you to meet my mother,” Adam said with a nod in the direction of the other man. “My daughter is probably still tucked under her blankets. They came in with me yesterday off the train and I’m afraid they’re a bit worn out.
“Mother,” he added with a smile to her. “This is our neighbor, Jake Hargrove. He and his wife have a couple of girls that Hannah will enjoy meeting and a little boy who was just learning to walk when I saw him last.”
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Jake said as he walked over and offered his hand to Adam’s mother. “All your son could talk about the last time we spent any time together was the fact that you were bringing his daughter home. I’m glad you both made it in time for Christmas.”
“You’re too kind,” his mother said to the other man, but Adam noticed her jaw was clenched a little. He supposed she was upset about the buckskins Jake wore. If Adam was not mistaken, before the day was over, she’d be scolding him because he let a man who wore heathen clothes come in and sit down at the table as if he belonged in their home.
“I worried, too,” Adam said, and then trying to appease her, he added, “But my mother has been gracious in allowing Hannah to stay with her for too long now. I know it’s been a lot of work for her and it’s time I started doing it instead.”
“Oh, it was nothing,” his mother said with a wave of her hands. “I enjoy having our Hannah around. A little one like her still needs her grandmother.”
“Well, my girls have been talking about getting to play with her for months now,” Jake said as he turned to walk back to the table. He sat down and picked up his cup again. “They’re going to wish they could have come with me to meet her today.”
