Learning to Love (Cowboys and Angels Book 21)

by Jo Noelle

  “You don’t need to worry that I’d judge you poorly. I think you might be the bravest man I’ve ever known.” She saw the slightest smile on his lips after her remark, but it quickly faded.

  “There’s more. The last night when we were in Graham’s Grub, my half-brother was there. He saw me. I don’t want to bring down my pa’s wrath on Creede, so I’m met with KC the next morning. We’ll get something figured out.” His head dropped back into his hands. “They all know I’m alive and where I am now. And they know I deserted them. Something will come of that.”

  He looked defeated. Clara slid to her knees in front of him and raised her arms to circle his shoulders as she pressed a cheek to his. “You’re a good man, Bernard,” she whispered in his ear. “I’m so sorry for the evil you’ve known, but you turned your back on it. You became a new man. I’m proud of the person you are. You’ll be all right. Talk to KC.” The angel who had visited her earlier had said she would be needed and didn’t want to startle Clara when she appeared. Maybe she was there to help with this. “I know we’ll have Heaven’s help when we need it.”

  “I’m sorry you married into this mess,” he said.

  She couldn’t tell him about her past. At least, not the part about her wanting to leave him. He needed to concentrate on the troubles he had. She didn’t want to add to them, but she could share a part of her story and see what he thought. He had taken a risk and trusted her with his story—she could do the same, but with only a part for now. She had to believe that the right time to tell the rest would come.

  She squeezed his hand and took a deep breath. “I came with my own little bag of troubles, Bernard.” Clara rose to her feet and then sat on the sofa beside him. “We sure didn’t know much about each other before we said our I dos.” She felt like she was stalling. She didn’t know how to tell him.

  At that moment, Bernard’s arm slipped around her shoulders, and he scooted closer.

  “I . . . I’ve been married before, and I’m not a widow.” Shame burned through her. She didn’t want to tell him the rest, but he had a right to know. “My husband divorced me.”

  “The man was a fool,” he said immediately.

  “He had his reasons.” I was a failure. Clara looked away. She didn’t want to see his disappointment.

  “Well, I’m glad he did.” Bernard’s hand tightened around her shoulder, snuggling her closer. “Clara, I wasn’t there in the courtroom by accident. I followed you to the marshal’s office that day. I’d overheard your brother say he was marrying you off, and I went there to stop it. I thought I was doing it for you, but it turns out that I need you.”

  He had gone to court that day because of her? “You need me?” Her heart stood still for a moment.

  “I like having you come down the stairs in the morning.” Bernard kissed her forehead. “And walking with me to work.” He leaned close again and pressed his lips to her cheek. “I like your smile and your laugh. I just like you.” Then his mouth covered hers.

  His kiss was sweet and soft, treating her as if she were precious. Could he look beyond her failure? Even if he could, that didn’t mean he would agree to being childless. She’d have to find the courage to tell him.

  “We’re past our bedtime, Mrs. Newell.”

  Clara stiffened in his arms. This was still a problem. Someday he would want her to share his bed.

  He looked into her eyes with concern and stood.

  Bernard reached for her hand to help her up. When she stood before him, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “Sleep well.” He tucked her hand into his elbow and walked her to the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She hadn’t meant to, but her whole body relaxed with relief. “I’m glad we’re getting to know each other.”

  “We can take all the time we need,” he replied.

  When Clara stepped on the first tread, her hand tugged away from him. He wasn’t accompanying her up the stairs, she realized, and he smiled up at her as if he knew her thoughts.

  The stress she’d felt at the expectation melted away, and she settled in her bed. Although she felt relief, it was mixed with a certain disappointment as she fell asleep.

  When she woke that night, her first thought was that she hadn’t seen the mother cat. It seemed that her brain insisted on working in her dreams to mull over or maybe invent problems for her to consider. Clara rolled to her side and stuffed the pillow under her shoulder.

  I don’t always see her under the stairs.

  But the kittens had cried loudly as she and Bernard had returned home. Maybe she should just check to see if they were all right. She pushed her feet out, pulled her socks up, and stood on the cold floor. She wrapped herself in her house coat and tied it as she left the room.

  It was probably silly to check on the cats, but she reasoned that it would be easier to get back to sleep once she did it. She walked down the hall. There was no light around Barnard’s door. She crept down the stairs and through the door to the office. She could hear the kittens. She chided herself. Just because they cried didn’t mean she needed to do something for them.

  The office flooded with light, and in the midst of it, stood the lady gunslinger. “They’ll die without you, Clara. Their mother isn’t coming back. Now, their survival is up to you and Bernard. And these little ones will help each of you love again.”

  Clara ran back to the kitchen and tied her apron around her waist, then pushed her feet into some of Bernard’s boots beside the back door. She hurried out the front door. The angel’s light followed along, spilling all around. Clara dropped down on her knees and saw two kittens huddling together. She thought their cries were weaker than before. She picked one up and put it into the large pocket in the front of her apron, then grabbed the other and tucked it in too. She hurried back into the house and yelped before she realized it was Bernard who was standing at the other end of the room looking fierce, but he softened immediately.

  She drew in a deep breath. Realizing he must have thought it was someone else in his house, she explained, “I went out to get the kittens under the stoop. I think their mother is dead.” The little cats had clawed their way up the side of the pocket, their wide eyes looking over the edge.

  Bernard walked toward her and pulled her gently into his arms without pressing against the kittens.

  When he released her, Clara noticed the black and white tabby clawing its way out of her pocket and the yellow tabby trying to climb over its back.

  “You’re two lucky little beasts,” Bernard said as he lifted the yellow one to his face and looked into its blue eyes. “We have a bit of milk.”

  Clara thought how huge the man’s hands were, yet they gently held the orange-striped ball of fluff. It was as if the kitten answered him, its mouth stretching open, and a tiny pink tongue curled as it mewed. “I don’t think they’ll need much.” Clara picked up the gray-striped baby. It squirmed feebly. They were wild but too hungry to put up much of a fight. She petted its head, neck, and back as they walked to the kitchen.

  Bernard handed her the kitten he held and pulled out two teaspoons and the milk. They tried their best to feed them. Clara wondered if they could get enough, but she was hopeful that they would soon be ready to lap. Each time the spoon reached their lips, their tongues poked out. She held one close to the spoon and tapped its head, pushing its mouth into the milk. Although it licked its lips, it didn’t lap yet, so she continued feeding it by spoon.

  After several minutes, the babies’ lips were surrounded with tiny milk mustaches, and their tummies felt rounder. She would just keep at it every few hours. Bernard cradled his kitten in the crook of his elbow and petted it from nose to forehead as the little tail curled around its haunches. The kitten’s eyes were closed, and soft purring rumbled from it. It was a beautiful picture. She never would have guessed at such gentleness from Bernard a week ago, but she was beginning to see the heart of gold inside the giant man.

  They settled the
babies on top of a towel in the bathing tub and returned to bed. When they woke in the morning, they fed them again. This time they lapped a few times.

  It was Tuesday morning, and that meant the tea party at the tea shop owned by sisters Ariadne and Regina. Both of them were new brides as well. Edwin and Hugh manned the boarding house and hotel as Millie, Julianne, and Clara went to the shop to meet with the ladies of the town. Since Edwin’s sisters had arrived, they’d started coming, too. It was lovely to get together with other women to share news and concerns and the occasional bit of gossip.

  The ladies walked out of the restaurant together, shuffling down the slippery boardwalk.

  “Mr. Carroll,” Rhona called out and waved her hand at the man coming out of the Creede Candle. “Excuse me, Mr. Carroll?”

  He stopped and tipped his hat, then crossed the street. “Good day, ladies. May I be of some assistance to you?”

  “We haven’t met, but I have a problem with your newspaper. I’d like to discuss it with you.”

  Clara held her breath a bit and looked at the other women. Julianne and Millie seemed surprised, but Aileen seemed impatient, and Isla grinned like she knew a secret.

  “I appreciate you reading my paper.” he began.

  Rhona interrupted. “Well, that’s yet to be seen after we talk. Please come by the restaurant tonight after supper.” She beamed a delightful smile toward him. “I’m glad to make your acquaintance.” Then to the ladies she said, “Let’s get to tea.”

  Clara noticed that Mr. Carroll watched them walk away. Not them but watched Rhona with a puzzled look on his face. She hoped Rhona would share more about that strange encounter, but all she said was, “We should hurry before our toes freeze.”

  Inside the warm and welcoming tea shop, each of the ladies hung her bonnet on one of the hooks near the door, then draped her coat over the back of her chair before ordering a cup of tea and choosing from the dainty desserts on the counter.

  “You’re a married lady now, Clara. Congratulations,” Mariah Jensen said.

  “I’m so happy for you,” Hannah said as she hugged Clara.

  Marta also hugged her. “Bernard’s a good man. I know you’ll have a wonderful marriage.”

  Clara loved these dear women who’d shared the terrifying experience of being held captive in the potato cellar as Creede burned around them. As she settled herself at a table with Sophia, Beth sat beside her. Clara noticed a decided trench between Beth’s eyebrows.

  “You look sad. Is something troubling you?” she asked Beth.

  “Yes. It probably shouldn’t, but I am worried.” That drew interest and attention like a candle shining in the dark, and the women gathered around Beth’s table.

  Nora’s hand squeezed Beth’s shoulder from behind. “Tells us what’s the matter.”

  Beth looked around at the gathered women. So did Clara, wondering what Beth was assessing. Maybe that it was just the close friends at the tea party and no one else. She took a deep breath. “I’m worried about the troubles for banks in mining towns lately.”

  “I’ve been reading about that in the Denver Post,” Eliza said. “Now there have been three banks, right? I didn’t want to bring it up. I thought it might upset you.”

  “You’re right, but I’m anxious already.” Beth clasped her hands on her lap.

  “Has there been a problem at the Creede Bank?” Toria asked.

  “No, but I can’t help wondering, worrying, if we’ll be next.”

  Vivian spoke up. “I haven’t been reading the papers. What happened when the banks were attacked?”

  “That’s the strange part,” Eliza said. “Nothing happened. Part of the wall of the bank near the safe was destroyed each time, but the safe wasn’t touched, and it appears that the robbers didn’t even enter the bank.”

  “It’s very strange that nothing else happened,” Seffi said. “What was their goal? And three times, you say? There’s something important missing in these details, ladies.”

  Clara patted Beth’s shoulder to reassure her. “We’ll keep our eyes open and watch out for you.”

  Chapter 7

  Bernard

  Inside Hearth and Home’s large dining room, Bernard sat at his usual table and in his usual chair, being able to look out the window and see the stairs and entrances at the same time while his back was to the wall. He realized he’d chosen his regular spot because it was the most defensible place in the room. That lesson had been burned into him long ago. His stomach churned with dread. When would his family descend on Creede? He wondered if the rest of them were in one of the nearby towns even now.

  His first client was on time, and they sat together to discuss a property issue. The morning passed quickly, and after he’d eaten lunch, he continued his meetings. That evening, he and Clara hurried home as clouds darkened the sky and the temperature dropped. The sun was going down sooner with winter upon them.

  Bernard opened the door and stepped aside for Clara to enter. “The weather seems to be turning colder each day,” he said. “I usually tried to spend the winter down in the corner of the state near Cortez.

  “I’m not sure I was ready for winter quite yet. I guess I’ve been spoiled by last year.” Bernard helped her with her coat and then removed his as well. “Is this how it usually is?” she asked as she walked to the water closet to get the kittens.

  Bernard met her in the kitchen with the spoons and milk. “I’m not sure I know the normal yet. I’ll have to hang around for a few years to see,” he said as she sat at the table, placing both kittens on top. “I think we need to name them.” The kittens cried loudly. “The orange one is feisty,” he said as it bit at Clara’s finger. “Let’s name him Captain.”

  “And that one,” she pointed to the gray one Bernard picked up, “is Buck.”

  Bernard liked how gentle she was with her kitten, placing her hand under its belly and tipping the spoon to its lips. Patient. “Time to eat, Buck,” Bernard said, lifting the spoon the kitten’s mouth. “I wondered if you’d like to warm up tomorrow,”

  Clara looked askance at him. “Warm up? How?”

  Bernard set down a bowl, poured in a little milk, and picked up the gray kitten this time. “There are some hot springs down at Wagon Wheel Gap Guest Ranch. We can ride down tomorrow and enjoy them.”

  “I’d like that. I had no idea that existed here. Or really anywhere. The warm water comes right out of the ground?”

  “There are hot springs all over this part of Colorado. I’m glad I get to introduce you to the experience. I think you’re going to like it.”

  “I don’t have a bathing suit.”

  “The pool is private. We’ll have our own little cabin and a heated pond just outside our door. Your chemilette will be sufficient, and I’ll wear drawers.” Had he suggested something that would cause her to push away from him? He really had no intention of seducing her at the ranch. Of course, giving their states of undress, intimacy wasn’t out of the question. He stamped on that thought. He wanted to win her heart. If he did that, she would give herself to him, and he would cherish her the more for it. He would wait.

  He could see reluctance on her face. She didn’t look convinced, so he added, “I’m sure one of the ladies will take care of our litter while we’re gone.”

  Then her face softened, and a smile replaced the worry. “That’s what we used to do as kids in the pond used to water the cattle. I suppose it will be fine since it’s private.”

  The next morning, Bernard and Clara boarded the train for the short ride to the guest ranch. Each of them were wrapped in a heavy coat and carried extra clothes and a blanket for the return trip. Isla would feed the babies until they got back. The train didn’t usually stop at the guest ranch unless someone bought that ticket. If fact, it was so close to Creede that the train didn’t even have a chance to get its steam up before it slowed to a stop to let them off.

  They met the guest ranch owner, Katie “Long Shot” Dickson.

  “Ho
w’s the contest going?” Bernard asked her as they walked behind the lodge.

  “Seffie has taken the lead, but I’ll get it back this spring.”

  Clara gave Bernard a confused look.

  “Katie and Seffie have an ongoing competition to see who scores more points on a target by shooting arrows at it as they gallop by on horseback.”

  “It’s going on thirty years that we’ve meet up several times each summer to test each other out.”

  Bernard let out a low whistle. “It sure is something to watch. Their horses at a dead run and them leaning off to the side to get the best shot.”

  Katie stopped in front of a cabin. “Here we are. Enjoy your stay,” she said and opened the door for them before she left.

  Bernard started feeling nervous. This would be another step in their marriage. He hoped Clara would welcome it. The buildings sat next to small pools of steaming water. Inside each little cabin were towels, chairs, a small table, small beds, and a blazing wood stove to keep the place warm.

  Even though the water would be hot, the air wasn’t, and when you were finished, you had to dry off and dress pretty fast to stay warm.

  Clara stood at the open door and stared into the pool’s clear water, holding her clothes and blanket close to her. He thought he saw her cheeks getting a bit pink. This was hard for her, but she still looked willing.

  “If you’d like to get in first, I’ll turn my back and wait until you tell me.”

  “Thank you.” Clara entered the cabin while Bernard stood outside.

  After several minutes, he heard the door open. “I’m grateful for the wood stove,” she said. “Even then it’s a bit chilly.” Then water rippled. “I’m in the water now,” Clara said. “I’ll keep my back to the stairs, too.”

  Inside, Bernard stripped down to his drawers, walked quickly to the pond, and stepped down the stone stairs into the little pool. Steam curled above the surface and disappeared a few inches above it.