She stepped into the house and went to the coldroom where she retrieved a pitcher of lemonade she’d made the day before. She put it and a couple of glasses on a tray that she carried outside and set on the small table between the two chairs. She poured out both glasses and set the pitcher down then took a seat. Silas picked up one of the glasses and raised it to her.
Wolf padded out of the house behind her and stood staring at Silas for a long moment as if he was judging whether or not the stranger posed a threat. Silas shifted in his seat uncomfortably under the dog’s scrutiny. As if deciding he posed no threat, Wolf laid down next to Isabelle’s chair − his eyes still on Silas.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice quavering slightly as he looked at the big dog. “This will hit the spot on a warm day.”
She raised her own glass to him and took a drink. Isabelle set her glass down and started to fuss with her hair.
“I apologize, I must look frightful,” she laughed. “I have been working in the distillery all day.”
He gave her a sincere smile. “I doubt you could look frightful if you tried, Isabelle,” he said.
She felt the heat flare in her cheeks and looked away. A moment of silence descended over them as they sipped their lemonade. Finally, she looked back at Silas.
“So, what can I do for you, Mr. Pear −”
He wagged his finger at her and grinned. “It’s Silas, remember?”
She grinned. “Right. So what can I do for you, Silas?”
“Actually, to be honest, I came out here to see your brother,” he said. “I wanted to talk business with him. But I see that we may be out of luck on that front.”
Isabelle shook her head quickly. “No, it is just a bump in the road. Nothing was permanently damaged, thankfully,” she said. “Mark will be up and running again before you know it. He is not going to let last night’s difficulties prevent him from continuing on. If anything, it will only serve to make him more determined to succeed. That’s just who my brother is.”
He chuckled softly. “You are quite the spokesperson for him.”
She smiled. “I believe in him.”
“I can see that,” he said. “And for you to believe in him that much − well − I can only believe in his character too.”
Isabelle grinned and felt her cheeks flushing again at his subtle compliment. But she was not lying. She believed in Mark with everything in her. He was a good man. The best man she had ever known.
But as she thought about her brother, her mind drifted to her brother’s best friend. Unbidden, images of Harvey filled her mind and a small smile touched her lips. He was a good man as well. And one she wanted to get to know so much more about.
She felt as if they had been growing closer recently and that feeling only made her want to get even closer than they were. Made her want to learn all of those things she did not know about him. He intrigued and compelled her in ways she was not prepared for. But ways she embraced all the same.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Silas’s voice snapped her out of her reverie and she turned to look at him and cocked her head.
“Sorry?” she asked.
“You just seemed lost in thought,” he replied. “And that little smile on your face made me think it was a pleasant thought.”
“Oh, just − it was nothing.”
Silas studied her for a long moment and she could see the curiosity in his eyes. But the moment passed and he sat back in the chair.
“So, how are you enjoying Stephill?” he asked.
“Well, aside from what happened last night, Stephill has been like heaven on Earth to me,” she replied. “I’ve enjoyed it very much. It’s the kind of place I can see myself being happy in for a very long time.”
“That’s very good to hear,” he said. “Speaking for myself, I’d enjoy having you here for a very long time. But speaking of last night − and not to dredge up painful or off-putting memories − I am concerned about you being all the way out here. Alone.”
She laughed softly. “But I am not alone. I have my brother. And Wolf here, of course,” she said and pointed to Harvey’s house. “And there’s also Harvey. He lives just over in that house.”
“Who’s Harvey?”
“My brother’s best friend,” she answered. “He helped Mark set up his business and get a foot in the door here in Stephill.”
Silas nodded and pursed his lips. He scrutinized her for a long moment, and Isabelle grew uncomfortable. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel like he was seeing through her. Like he was trying to dissect her and parse her innermost thoughts. He looked at her with a familiarity that was disconcerting.
Isabelle tried to tell herself that she was imagining it and was being paranoid. She had such little experience with men that it would not be entirely shocking. All the same though, she was just about to make an excuse to send Silas away when she heard the clip clop of horse hooves on the long road that led to the yard in front of the house.
She was on her feet in a heartbeat and turned to Silas, giving him a wide smile.
“Well, it looks like you’re going to get a chance to have that conversation with my brother after all,” she said brightly.
His smile was faltering and weak at first − a look of disappointment crossed his face. But he recovered quickly, turning on a dazzling smile she was sure could charm most anybody.
“That’s great. I’m looking forward to it.”
“I am sure he will enjoy talking to you too,” she said.
A minute later, Harvey and Mark came into view. They rode their horses to the base of the stairs and dismounted, both of them looking askance at Silas, who got to his feet and raised his glass to them, that beatific smile on his face.
Isabelle bounded down the steps as she took the reins of the horses from them. Mark looked at her curiously.
“Mr. Pearson, wasn’t it?” he asked.
“Silas Pearson, yes. He dropped by and said he wanted to talk some business with you.”
Harvey nodded. “I’ve heard his name around town before. Heard he’s done some good work with some of the ranchers around here,” he said. “Got them running more efficiently and maximizing their profits.”
Mark looked at Silas again then turned back to Isabelle and Harvey.
“Well, it may be a little while before I’m maximizing anything, but I might as well talk to him,” he said. “Harv, can you take care of the horses?”
“You got it.”
Mark climbed the steps and she watched him shake hands with Silas. They both sat down and started to talk. She turned to Harvey and smiled.
“So? How did things go in town?” she asked.
Harvey blew out a long breath and rolled his eyes. “It had its challenges.”
She laughed. “Well, let’s see to the horses and you can tell me all about it.”
He grinned at her. “Deal.”
As they walked off, Isabelle felt the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. She was being watched. Cutting a quick glance behind her, she saw that Silas was staring straight at her and it sent cold tendrils of ice snaking their way up her spine.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“So do you believe that Mr. Alford didn’t know anything about what happened?” she asked.
Harvey pursed his lips as he brushed out his horse. As he thought about it, he shook his head.
“Logically, I’d say no. I don’t. There are just too many coincidences for me,” he told her. “But I have to allow for the possibility that he’s being honest. I think crossing out any suspect at this point would be a mistake.”
“Why is that?”
“Because if we narrow our focus to one person and limit our attention to them, the chances are, we are going to miss something,” he said. “I want to find out who is behind this and the only way to do that is to consider all possibilities − even the most unlikely.”
“Such as the idea that it was Indians.”
He
nodded and finished brushing out his horse. When they were done with that, they turned the horses loose into the paddock so they could get some food and water.
They walked out of the barn and leaned against the split rail fence to the paddock, watching the horses in silence together for a few minutes. Harvey cut a glance back at the porch, curious about the newcomer.
“So how did you say you knew Silas again?” he asked.
“I met him on the train from Grimepass,” she answered. “He actually stepped in and saved me from an unpleasant situation.”
“What was the situation?”
She frowned. “There was a man who was a little too − aggressive,” she said. “Silas made him go away and leave me alone.”
Harvey nodded. “I only know him by reputation and that tracks,” he said. “From what I’ve gathered, he’s a good man.”
“He seems to be. He seems really concerned with our safety out here,” she tells him. “At least, he was after I told him about what happened last night.”
Harvey cut another glance at the man and wondered about him. It seemed a little strange to him that Silas showed up out of the blue like that to talk business with Mark the day after the attack on the distillery. And not long after they had spotted the lone figure on the hill in the distance watching Mark’s house.
Perhaps he was being a bit paranoid. Everything about this situation was driving him a little bit crazy, truth be told. There were just so many things that did not add up in his mind. So many different pieces to the puzzle that were not lining up. And Harvey did not like it when things did not make sense to him.
The holes cut in the fence. The footprints outside of the barn. The attack on the distillery. The tomahawk. The man watching the house. Elmer Alford. And now Silas Pearson. So many disparate pieces that led to so many questions − none of which had any coherent answers.
“I should probably check on Charley,” Harvey announced.
“Would you mind if I came along?”
He gave her a warm smile. There were far more disagreeable things he could be doing with his time than spending it with Isabelle.
“I mean, if you would rather have some father-son time, I understand,” she stammered. “I do not wish to be so forward. I just wanted to give Mark a little time to speak with Silas alone.”
“That would be great,” Harvey said. “Charley seems to have taken a real shine to you.”
Isabelle’s smile was more radiant than the sun and it stirred something inside of Harvey. It had been a long time since he had felt anything for a woman other than Amy − since he had let himself feel something. And he was not sure he was quite ready to let himself start feeling something now.
But he could not deny that there was something about Isabelle that made him feel. He felt more strongly and deeply for her than he had for anybody since Amy. Just looking at her made his heart swell with emotions that were long unfamiliar to him.
For so long now, he had tried to shut out all feeling. He forced himself to deny anything resembling emotion that crept into his heart. He preferred to spend all of his focus and attention on his son. Harvey told himself that his son needed him more than he needed the company of a woman. More than he needed love.
But the more he got to know Isabelle, the closer they grew, the more he realized that he had shut it all away out of fear. His fear of betraying Amy. Or at least, his sense that he was betraying her. He had taken a vow to love her for the rest of his life − not the rest of her life.
As he reflected on all of this as they walked toward his house, he shook his head, silently chastising himself for just how poor the timing of it all was. With everything going on right now, the last thing he should be thinking about was his emotions or a romantic dalliance with Isabelle. Not just because of everything happening, but because she was Mark’s little sister. Out of respect to his friend, he knew he should at least have a conversation with him if he wanted to court Isabelle.
They walked into the house and he let the screen door swing closed behind them. Isabelle looked to him and he led her through the house and to a back room where he knew Chenoa often liked to let Charley play. The moment they stepped through the door, his son looked up and his face brightened. Chenoa sat in a chair in the corner, watchful as ever. Harvey noticed the shotgun propped in the corner behind her.
“See?” Harvey said. “He’s taken a shine to you.”
“He is a very good judge of character,” Chenoa said.
Isabelle smiled and knelt down next to Charley who threw his little arms around her. He buried his face in her shoulder and made happy sounding gurgles. Isabelle kissed the top of his head and murmured to him, making Harvey’s son giggle and chirp. Harvey glanced over at Chenoa, who was smiling at him, giving him a very knowing look.
“It is nice to see another woman in the house these days,” she said. “It is good for Charley as well.”
Harvey looked over at her, trying to will her to be quiet with the force of his mind. He knew what she was doing and hinting about and felt his stomach churn. But if Isabelle had heard her, she was gracious enough not to mention it.
“How has he been today?” Harvey asked, desperate to change the subject.
“Same as always. He’s a happy child,” Chenoa said. “He’s trying to walk. He will get there very soon.”
Harvey nodded, glad to hear that. Because of the difficulty with his birth, Charley was developing a little more slowly than other children his age. To know that he would soon catch up with them filled his heart with joy. He just hoped he would be there to see his son’s first steps.
“How did things go in town today?” Chenoa asked.
Harvey shrugged. “About how I expected to be honest.”
She nodded sagely. “Sheriff Waits wants to believe the tribes are responsible.”
“Not specifically, but he says he wants to keep an open mind,” he replied.
“I can go to my people,” Chenoa said. “Find out if they know anything. If they know if it was the tribes who are responsible.”
“You sound hesitant.”
She pursed her lips. “I do not believe the tribes are responsible. They raid to survive. Not out of spite. They gained nothing by the destruction of Mark’s distillery. It makes no sense.”
Harvey blew out a long breath. “I agree. But we should probably check just to be sure.”
“And if it is not them?” Isabelle asked. “What then?”
Harvey looked at her and frowned slightly. He had not realized she was listening. But her interest was definitely piqued now.
“Well, then we scratch a name off the list of suspects,” he said.
Harvey knelt down and kissed Charley on the top of his head and ruffled his hair. His boy squealed in delight and picked up some of the toys on the ground around him, showing them off proudly. And then Charley’s attention waned and he turned away from all of them, playing some game with his toys only he knew the rules to.
“If you would go talk to your people, I’d appreciate it Chenoa,” Harvey said.
“It will be done.”
Having Chenoa talk to the Sioux was a very good idea and he kicked himself for not having thought of it himself. But if they could cross the Sioux off their suspect list, it would ultimately prove beneficial because he had a bad feeling that at some point, Elmer was going to declare the tribes were responsible for an attack on one of Stephill’s own − at least, Elmer obviously considered Mark one of Stephill’s own when it was politically expedient to do so – and call for another posse.
And if that happened, Harvey feared that a bloody piece of town history would repeat itself. He feared that Elmer would slaughter the tribes if for no other reason than to cover his own backside as it related to the destruction of Mark’s distillery.
Harvey had little doubt that Elmer would murder a bunch of Indians and declare victory − and say that Mark had been avenged for his loss − if it meant taking any and all suspicion off of him. He knew the
older man could be downright ruthless when it served him.
Harvey motioned for Isabelle to follow him and he led her out to the kitchen. There, he poured them both a glass of iced tea and handed one over to her. She accepted it and murmured her thanks as she took a sip. They stood there together for a few minutes, neither of them speaking, but the air between them crackled with a sense of anticipation.
“Chenoa will likely be gone for a week or two,” he said, just to break the silence between them.
“I imagine that means you’re going to have your hands full, what with you being Charley’s caretaker and all,” she said.
A Healing Love for the Broken Cowboy: A Historical Western Romance Book Page 17
