Linda Ford (8 page)

He savored his coffee and the biscuits. He had come indoors with a task in mind. Oh, yeah. A letter to Margaret. He pulled the writing things from the bookshelf and arranged them where they wouldn’t extend into Linette’s working space and get soiled. “I’m going to write Margaret. If she knows about the house I’ve built she’ll change her mind.” He bent his head and began. The first part was easy.

Dear Margaret,

How are you? I was disappointed that Miss Edwards came and not you.

I blame myself, because I planned a surprise for you. I see now that I should have told you.

He stopped writing and stared at the tabletop. How did he put his dreams and hopes into a few words and expect anyone to understand?

He’d seen men with a favorite horse share silent communication. If it were possible between man and beast, surely it was possible between a man and a woman. He and Margaret had corresponded for almost two years, and before he left London they had talked about the future. He trusted it formed a basis for understanding the message behind the words he intended to put on paper. He resumed writing.

It is true I now live in a small cabin. Hardly big enough for the four people now crowded in here for the winter. But on the hill is the surprise I planned to have ready for you before we wed. A big house. It is as fine as any house in the West. No, finer. There are six bedrooms besides the main bedroom, which has two large dressing rooms plus a nursery, so it’s really a little suite in one wing of the house.

He filled a page of unsatisfying description.

I fear I am portraying this poorly. I will ask Miss Edwards to give you her own description.

The feelings filling his heart would not form as words on the page. He stared at the pen in his hand. What did he really want to say?

Margaret, my dear. I have no intention of marrying Miss Edwards. I will send her back to her home as soon as the weather permits. I hope news of the house I have built will persuade you to reconsider and come in the spring.

He blotted the ink and waited for it to dry then folded the pages and addressed the envelope. He set the letter on top of the bookshelf in plain view. A reminder to Miss Edwards of his intention.

As soon as the weather permitted, he would give Linette a tour of the house then request she write to Margaret with a full report.

He pulled out the magazines and newspapers from yesterday’s mail and returned to his chair to read. The room radiated warmth, something on the stove simmered. So far the meals had been a disappointment, but the aroma gave him hope supper might be better.

Cassie’s knitting needles clicked in a steady rhythm. Underneath the table, Grady resumed play, murmuring to his toys and occasionally raising his voice as he ordered one of the pretend animals to stop or turn. Linette stirred the pot and hummed.

Eddie thought of the big house and Margaret’s presence. Would she fill it with a similar sense of home and contentment? Or would they live parallel lives like so many married couples did? He only had to get through the winter to find out.

Later, they shared a tasty soup full of vegetables. The meat proved to be a little chewy but he managed. It beat starving.

Dishes finished, Cassie took Grady to bed. Linette followed shortly afterward.

For some reason he’d expected her to linger as she had last night. Not that he needed company. Of course not. He was grateful for a chance to be alone in his own house. He had plenty of reading to do. But he kept pausing to listen. He didn’t hear a word and soon abandoned reading the newspapers. He unrolled his furs. As he bent to put out the lamp a flicker of color on the wall caught his eye. He straightened, lifted the lamp to a painting, ornately framed. Bluebells, yellow gorse, orange poppies and other flowers in wild abandon filled the canvas.

As he stared, winter disappeared and he imagined strolling through the spring fields of England. The warm moist air bathed his face. The scents of the flowers filled his nostrils.

Another painting hung next to the flowers. The hill country with undulating blue hills in the background and lush green pastures dotted with white sheep in the foreground. In the middle to the left, a cluster of farm buildings. To the right a large manor house. Although the buildings should have dominated the scene they instead became a mere mention in it...a flicker of interest. All that mattered was the land, the hills, the grass. He stared for a long time, as his heart drank in things he couldn’t name. The artist had captured the life of the land and given it a voice.

He held the lamp closer and leaned over to see the name. There were only two initials. L.E. Linette Edwards? He drew back. Had she painted these? He looked at them again—the field of wildflowers and the pastoral scene. They both reached out to him, as if each brushstroke had the ability to talk.

He shook his head and stepped back slowly. These paintings did something to the room.

He turned and another patch of brightness caught his attention. A quilt of cheerful colors hung over one chair. When had it appeared?

He blew out the lamp and crawled into his bedroll.

Had Linette painted these pictures? Who was she?

He dismissed every vestige of curiosity. It didn’t matter that her paintings spoke to him. She was not the sort of woman who belonged in his home.

Or his heart.

Chapter Five

T
he snow fell all the next day. It piled up deeper and deeper, especially at the sides of the little cabin, like dollops of cream that had been scooped there by a huge spoon. Linette made numerous trips to the window to measure the snow with her eyes and to mentally exclaim over its beauty. The way it mounded and drifted in the wind, creating sharp edges and subtle shadows. At first, she had voiced her pleasure. “It’s unbelievably beautiful.”

Eddie shot her a disgusted look. “It’s too early. I can’t imagine how many animals we’ll lose.”

After that she kept her happy comments to herself and learned to take turns at the window with Eddie, who grew more and more glum, sighing heavily as he turned from the view. Then, as if searching for something he couldn’t find, he poked through the bookshelf, picked up objects and put them back. After a few moments, he returned to the window. He was understandably concerned about the herd.

Linette watched with a degree of caution. Would his worries make him harsh?
Lord, keep his cows safe. Help him trust You.

She wanted to tell him of her prayer but feared he would not find it comforting. But to his credit, his actions did not escalate and something inside her relaxed. He was a man not only noble, but self-controlled. The winter might be pleasant enough after all. And provide ample opportunity for her to prove her worth to him.

He jerked toward the door and donned his coat. “I have to see to things outside.” He ducked out into the storm.

She rushed to the window, but already the snow blocked his view. “I hope he’ll be safe,” she murmured. She shivered. A person could get lost in the snowstorm. She’d read about such disasters. What if he met with misfortune?

“I guess he knows what he’s doing,” Cassie said and resumed her knitting.

“I suppose you’re right.” But she couldn’t see any other building from the window. How could he know where he was going? She had to find something to do to keep her worries at bay. The floor in front of the door was soiled. She prepared hot water and got down on her hands and knees to scrub it. Wouldn’t he be impressed with her attention to the needs of the house—small though it was?

She finished and sat back on her heels to admire the job. The floor shone with cleanliness. A fine job indeed.

The door banged open and Eddie entered. As he stepped, his right foot skidded toward her. He windmilled his arms. His left foot went sideways. He flayed madly, but his feet continued their mad journey and he landed on his bottom with a thud that shuddered up Linette’s neck.

Her breath whooshed out. She’d done this. Unintentionally but by her hand nevertheless. “I’m sorry.”

He rested inches from the basin of water and looked up at her with a mixture of surprise and shock.

For a moment, time stopped as they considered each other. Again she felt an unfamiliar twinge in the region of her heart. Then his eyes burned like a smoldering fire. “Have you decided that if I won’t marry you you’ll kill me?”

She swallowed hard then tipped her chin. “No, sir.”

“Why else would you ice the floor before the door?”

How was she to know the water would freeze rather than dry? Though if she wasn’t so keen on proving how much he needed her she would no doubt have realized it. So far all her good intentions had served to give him more reason to reject her. “I don’t want you dead, because unless I marry you my father will force me to return.”

He sat up slowly. “Were you this vexatious to your father?”

“I fear so.”

He rolled his eyes. “In that case he should pay me to take you off his hands.”

“Indeed, if you recall I did offer you my dowry.” She rose.

“I doubt your dowry could be enough. No matter how generous it might be.” He gingerly got to his feet and rubbed his right hip.

She wanted to offer a hand but hesitated for fear he would jerk back and perhaps fall again. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll live.”

If she wasn’t mistaken he sucked back a groan.

How could everything she tried turn into a disaster? She pulled in air, along with a hefty dose of courage and determination. She would learn. She would get better. He would soon view her as an asset to his life. Unbidden, a deep-throated longing rose within her. She wanted to belong here.

But only as a partner, she reminded herself.

For the rest of the afternoon, she avoided meeting his gaze because every time she did, some stubborn, wayward thought reared its head pointing out that perhaps she had developed a foolish, romantic view of him while reading his letters. Over and over, she reiterated that she only wanted a way out of her constraining life in England and the marriage her father had arranged. Nothing more than a marriage of convenience.

* * *

The following morning she stepped from the bedroom and blinked at the sun streaming through the window. “It’s stopped snowing.”

Eddie cradled a cup of coffee as he stared out the window. “I need to get going. Can we have breakfast as soon as possible?”

“Certainly.” She’d pried a few more details from Cassie about cooking and served up a decent-enough breakfast—no fire outside the stove, no raw meat and no hard beans. But did he notice or comment? No, indeed. His neglect enabled her to focus on her goal—a businesslike marriage.

He barely finished before he donned his coat. “I have to check on things.” And he was gone.

She released air from her tense lungs and contemplated Cassie and Grady. who both relaxed visibly. “We’ll get used to each other.”

Cassie grunted. “I can’t wait to get out of here.” She stared out the window. “Maybe one of those miracle-working Chinooks will melt the snow. and the stagecoach will head back to Fort Benton. If it does I intend to be on it.”

“Well, I don’t.” Linette fixed the woman with a challenging look. “Where do you plan to go?”

Cassie shrugged. “I expect I can be a housekeeper for someone at the fort.”

“How would that be better than here?”

Cassie’s defiance deflated. “Like I say, a woman has few opportunities in life.”

Linette examined the contents of the pantry shelf wondering what to make for the noon meal. “Cassie, we make our own opportunities.”

“Like your father is allowing you to do? At least George made an effort to take my feelings into consideration. Trouble was, he never thought my opinions held any weight.”

Linette didn’t reply, though she more than half agreed that men too seldom thought women had an opinion of any worth. She pulled down a sack and opened it to investigate the contents. Oats. Tilly had taught her how to cook porridge. A breakfast she could handle successfully. She brought her attention back to Cassie. “There’s always something we can do to improve our circumstances.”

Cassie laughed. “Like ice the floor so a man tumbles at your feet?”

Linette met her gaze, saw the first flash of true amusement the woman had ever revealed. “I wish it were that easy. He did fall though, didn’t he?” She chuckled.

Cassie giggled. “Like a tree cut down by an ax.”

They laughed until they both wiped their eyes.

She hadn’t meant to create a booby trap for him. He might have been hurt. Linette tried to sober, but every time she did she’d look at Cassie and start to laugh again.

The door rattled open and her amusement fled as Eddie stepped inside. He gave them a curious look, having no doubt heard them laughing.

Cassie gave her knitting her full attention.

Grady, who had been watching them with amazement, ducked behind the table.

Eddie shook his head as if to say he wasn’t interested and crossed to scoop up the roll of furs he slept on each night. “I’m going to find the cows.”

“You’re going overnight? Where will you sleep?”

“I’ve spent many a night on the ground.”

“But the snow? The cold?” Her heart beat a rapid drumbeat against her ribs. She’d barely stepped from the cabin and apart from the first day when she’d met two of the cowboys, she knew no one else. She and her companions would be alone. Isolated. That was her only reason for the worry that clawed at her throat. Not, she firmly informed her wayward brain, not that she already missed Eddie and he hadn’t even left.

“I thought you’d read about the cowboys. Didn’t any of your books mention sleeping out in the cold?”

She’d read about how men pushed away the snow to dry ground or dug shelters in a drift, but they were nameless heroes. “What if something happens to you?” She barely managed to keep her voice calm.

He faced her. Met her gaze. She didn’t care if he saw her concern. It was honest, sincere. With supreme effort she banked her worry.

“I have to check on the animals.”

She nodded. “I know. I promised to pray for their safety and I have.”

The air settled heavily between them, full of her unfulfilled dreams, her aching longings, her nervous worry.
In God I trust.
No need for her to be anxious. She jerked her gaze away to look at the bright window. “I pray God will keep you safe as well.”

“He has in the past. But don’t worry yourself. If something happens to me the men and Cookie will see you are taken care of. They’ll make sure you get back to your father.”

Her eyes burned. She was concerned about his safety, but he wouldn’t let an opportunity pass to remind her of his intention to send her back. She gave him a look laden with every ounce of anger and denial flooding through her. “I’m quite capable of managing on my own.” Never mind her temporary flight down a fear-filled path. Put it down to the unfamiliar circumstances. And thinking of Eddie being out in the wintry weather. After all, he was her means of escape from her father.

“I’m sure you are, Miss Edwards.” He filled her name with resignation then ducked out of the house before she could respond.

She jerked about. “Oh, that man.”

A few minutes later she heard the thud of horses’ hooves riding away.

Cassie reported from her station at the window. “Eddie and three others.”

Linette reached the window in time to see the snow kicked up by the departing riders. She tried to remember exactly how many men were on the place. Had he left at least one behind? Surely someone had to take care of the stock on the ranch. Would that person also check on the occupants of the cabin or were they completely on their own? The cookhouse stood across the roadway. She assured herself Cookie was there. Wasn’t she? Perhaps she had left to visit someone while the men were away. Would it have hurt Eddie to give her a little reassurance?

Unable to soothe her pounding heart, she spun on her heels. Her father would be expecting a letter soon, and if he didn’t receive it. . .

She shuddered. She would not let him drag her home. Any more than she would let Eddie send her back.

She yanked paper, pen and ink from the shelf. But what could she say? If her father thought Eddie didn’t intend to marry her he would send someone after her, not giving any leeway for the weather. If he ordered it, he expected a man could overcome simple obstacles like snow and cold. Yet she wouldn’t—couldn’t—lie, and say they’d proceeded with wedding plans. In the end, she reported she’d arrived safely and didn’t offer to send proof of a wedding because she couldn’t.

* * *

Two days passed. She’d not seen another soul apart from the occupants of the house. With each hour Linette’s insides twisted tighter. Had Eddie abandoned them to starve and freeze? She eyed the shelf. How long would those supplies last? He’d directed her to the wood in the attached shed, but they used an alarming amount in a short time.

“Still think he’s going to marry you?” Cassie asked. “If you ask me, he’s left us to manage on our own for the winter. I guess we’ll see if you’re as good at pioneering as you think.”

Cassie’s words served to jolt Linette from her worry. “Cookie is across the way.” Although she’d seen no evidence of it. To divert herself, she pulled out one of Grady’s shirts and mended a torn seam. With each jab of the needle, annoyance at Eddie mounted. If her father heard how he’d treated her—

Heaven help them all if he did. She’d pay as dearly as Eddie. The thought only served to anger her more. She’d come in good faith. Eddie could at least allow her that.

Cassie stared out the window, as she often did. She never commented on the beauty, never saw any blessing in their situation. Linette knew she saw few blessings in her life.

Right now Linette didn’t see a whole lot more. She’d forgotten to trust God. She calmed her breathing, slowed the speed of her needle.

“Someone rode into the yard.” Cassie said it with resignation rather than the curiosity and anticipation Linette felt as she sprang to the window.

A man—a cowboy—with a snow-crusted buffalo-hide coat slouched low in the saddle. Eddie followed, sitting tall on his horse, his buffalo coat equally coated with snow. The others did not appear. Perhaps they’d stayed with the cattle.

He was back. Relief melted her muscles and she clutched the logs of the wall to hold her up.

He certainly looked regal. Born to rule.

He rode closer to the cabin. Despite his upright posture, his face seemed drawn. No doubt he was worn out by riding in the cold. She’d make certain he had a hot drink when he returned to the cabin. He rode by without glancing in her direction.

Hmmph. Her relief twisted into frustration. Was he too high and mighty to take note of the newcomers in his cabin? To give a thought to their comfort and security?

The pair rode to the barn.

She watched until they were out of sight. Only then did she realize she held her breath, and let it out with a gusty sound.

Cassie left Linette’s side. “I expect it’s bad news.”

Linette strained for another glimpse. “Why do you say that?”

“Hasn’t Eddie been expecting it? How many times has he told us how cows can die in deep snow? How they can’t find anything to eat? Stupid animals. Buffalo are built for this land, but what happened to them? People shot them for their hides.”

Linette kept her face toward the window. Buffalo coats certainly looked good hanging from the shoulders of a cowboy. “It’s natural Eddie should worry. His responsibility is a heavy load.”