One True Love (15 page)

She smiled, thinking about Susan. He'd have a lot of correspondence to complete.

“I'll answer.”

“No.” His hand tightened in hers. “I'll write, but it won't be possible for me to receive any returns. I should have the train safely to Colorado Springs sometime after the first of the year. Once I get them there, I'll come back. By then you should be up and around.”

And then, what? Maybe they could pick up where they had left off. But exactly where had they left off? The relationship was as tenuous as it was promising.

He read the question in her eyes. “Been thinking of settling down here,” he said, so quietly she wasn't sure she had heard him correctly.

“Here?” Thunder shook the old house. “Here?”

“Right here, thunder and all.”

“It's a nice town but a bit noisy. Perhaps Beeder's Cove—”

“No. Thunder Ridge. I've got roots here.”

“Roots?” She sputtered. “You call ‘roots' a driving rain and folks stacked like cordwood in the icehouse? Roots?”

“Well.” He eased closer. “I like things to be a little cluttered. Keeps life interesting.”

She deflated. “You mean sort of like me cluttered.”

“Sort of.”

“I've changed.”

A finger came up to tap her mouth. “Who said anything about change? I like you exactly the way you are.”

She felt her gaze soften as he removed his hand. “I rather like you too.”

“That's good. We like each other.” He grinned. “Way ahead of where we were a few weeks ago.”

“Yes, way ahead.” Worlds ahead. The word
like
certainly did not describe even half of what she felt for him.

Audrey appeared in the doorway holding a breakfast tray. “Hey, you two. Breakfast is ready.”

Josh stood up and moved out of the way as Audrey settled the steaming tray in front of Copper. She glanced at the bowl of oatmeal and lightly buttered toast and realized she couldn't eat a bite. His words had left her positively faint and hopelessly curious.

Redlin nodded to Audrey. “I was just on my way out. You take good care of this lady.”

Audrey smiled. “Oh, I shall. She'll be good as new before very long.”

He stood in the doorway turning the brim of his hat in his hands. Copper's eyes sought his. “You promise to write?”

“Twice a week.”

“I'll answer three times a week.”

He chuckled, turning faintly pink. “I'll not have an address that you can write to, but I'll think about you all week.”

“Copper, you're embarrassing the man.” Audrey adjusted
the tray and then turned and brushed past Josh on her way out. “Use your bell if you need anything.”

“Thank you. I will.”

Then there were just the two of them. He stepped back to the bed and bent to kiss her. She drank in his essence, the feel of his mouth touching hers, knowing it would be a long time, if ever, before they would be reunited.

When their lips parted, he whispered, “I will be back.”

Nodding, she swiped at sudden hot tears rolling down her cheeks. So much could happen between now and then. So very much. She wasn't very old, but she'd lived long enough to be aware of the uncharted twists and turns life contained.

“Wait.” She opened the small drawer in her bedside table and removed a pair of scissors. Snipping a lock of her hair, she put the token in an envelope, sealed it, and then slipped it into his shirt pocket. “So that you'll always remember me.”

He chuckled. “I'll always remember you, Copper Wilson.”

And then his mouth closed over hers and she forgot everything but him. Josh Redlin. Arrogant wagon master; honorable man of her dreams.

Please God, I'll never ask another thing if you'll bring him back to me.

The prayer was born of desire, and Copper knew God didn't always grant desires. Needs he promised to fulfill, but desires were optional.

Could she live without this man? Would her life still hold meaning and purpose without him to brighten her day?

Unfortunately she was about to find out.

He would be back. He said he would. Now she had to trust that he was the man she thought he was, a man of his word.

C
opper took the letter from Audrey and stuck it under the pillow.

“Hey—that's not fair.” Her friend pulled up a chair. “Where is he? What does he say?”

Copper crossed her arms. “That's a private matter.”

“Oh please. When has anything about your and Redlin's relationship ever been private?” She scooted the chair closer. “Come on. Open it.”

“I will. The moment you leave.” She was willing to share anything with her best friends, anything but Josh's correspondence. What if he had come to his senses sooner than she'd hoped and realized their attraction was completely unreasonable, and now that some distance separated them he planned to sever the tenuous bond? Distress so great it overcame her. No. He wouldn't do that. He was more principled than to give his word and go back on it.

But he'd never said that he was in love with her. His eyes, his glances, his touch left that impression, yet what man wouldn't try to console a woman with an injury as grave as hers had been? A horrifying thought struck her. That was why the letter had come so swiftly. He'd had time to reconsider the unlikely match and decided to end it swiftly and without further complication.

Sighing, Audrey pushed back. “Fine. Keep the letter to yourself.”

“I intend to.” Copper couldn't bear the thought of reading his rejection out loud to a woman whose one true love couldn't get enough of her.

“Are you aware that since that man left you've been on pins and needles? I declare I've never seen you so smitten.”

“I'll get over it.” If the letter contained what she thought it did, she had resolved to get over him quickly. Quickly—if a hundred years fit the criterion.

It was hard to believe that the old Copper could let such a disaster befall her. Until Redlin entered her life she'd done quite well without a man's companionship. But underlying her thoughts was the knowledge that she would never be the same Copper, the same naive, spoiled woman who first came to Thunder Ridge.

The bedroom door closed behind Audrey, and Copper drew the missive from under the sheet and ripped into it.

Run-on sentence
. She shook her head, grinning. Well, he'd never claimed to be a scholar.

Her grin widened. His English skills were deplorable; she had her work cut out for her.

She folded the letter and brought it to her chest, visualizing his arrogant grin. Her fears and determination to live without him were unnecessary. He had written that “we” could live with a limp.
We
. She savored the affirmation. Of course, if it was necessary, they could live with a limp. People lived with much worse, but that probably wouldn't be necessary. The injury was healing nicely according to Dr. Dyson. In another four weeks the bandage would come off, and her life would be the same as it was before the injury. She wouldn't embarrass Josh with her imperfection, though
Redlin didn't appear the type to allow superficial things to bother him. Yet she wanted to be perfect for him. Perfect in every way. A tap sounded at her door, and she slipped the letter beneath the sheets. “Yes?”

“Miss Wilson?”

She relaxed. No nosy friends wanting to know what the correspondence said. “Come in, Dr. Dyson.”

The doctor entered, freshly shaved and looking and smelling considerably better than the first day they'd met. “How's my patient this morning?” He set a small bag on the bed, and Copper eyed it.

“You have a new satchel.”

“Yes, thanks to Dr. Smith. He was gracious enough to provide me with a few instruments.”

“He's a good man.”

“That he is.” His gaze centered on her bandaged ankle. “How is the pain level?”

“Better. I'm only taking something to help me sleep at night.”

“Very good.” He examined the foot, probing and then partially unwrapping the bandage and turning the injury to the window light. “Yes…the suturing is holding together well.”

“What does that mean?”

Straightening, he smiled. “It means all looks well.”

Hope sprang eternal. “Then you might have succeeded? It's still possible that I will walk without a limp?”

“Whoa. When I say ‘well' I only mean coming along nicely. It will be weeks before we know the full results of my attempt.” Pulling up a chair, he sat down. “Miss Wilson—”

“Please. Call me Copper. ‘Miss Wilson' seems so formal
considering all that we're been through.” After all, this man had become an important part of her life. “Miss Wilson” was entirely too proper.

He nodded. “Copper. As I was saying, though it will be weeks before we know with certainty about your ankle, I fear that at best, I have only scratched the surface of the injury.”

She turned her head toward the window. “Please, allow me my hope.” No one seemed willing to accept that a miracle might be in the making, though truthfully miracles didn't happen along that often.

“Of course, but I'm not God, nor do I understand his work. On the other hand, I cannot allow you to harbor false hope. Yours was the most serious injury of its type I've ever encountered in my long career, and I have no mystical powers.”

“You underestimate your gift, Doctor. Your reputation is sterling and you're a reputedly exceptional surgeon.”

“Perhaps, but sometimes a man's skills aren't enough.” His features darkened. “Sometimes we're forced to accept the unacceptable.”

“But what if you can't accept?” She didn't have his resilience, though goodness knew she'd seen that even a man like Dyson could fold when life dealt a major blow.

His gaze switched from the window and centered on her. “I wasn't aware we're given a choice.”

A rap on the doorsill interrupted the conversation. Eli Gray's large frame filled the entrance. “Am I interrupting?”

“Eli, no. Come in.” She motioned to the second chair. “You've met Dr. Dyson?”

“Briefly.” The two men shook hands. “I trust you're settling comfortably at the widow's?”

“Very nicely. She cooks a mean pot roast.”

Copper grinned at Eli. “Ah…the groom-to-be. You sly old fox. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Color rose to his handsome features. “I stopped by to see Audrey. I'm about to take a load of lumber to Blackberry Hill and Audrey thought you might want me to stop by Betsy Pike's while I'm over that way.”

“Oh yes, please. I need to pen a short note and let her know that I'm back.” Judge Madison's former housekeeper was a dear friend. “Can you wait a moment?” She reached into her side table and took out a pen and paper.

Eli filled the ensuing void in the conversation as the doctor prepared to leave. “Understand you plan to return to the cavalry?”

“I haven't thought beyond my patient's recovery. Miss Wilson's recuperation will be complete in a few weeks.”

“Well, I'm sure Doc Smith could use some help if you had a mind to settle somewhere. You from around these parts?”

“No. My wife and I came west twenty years ago when I joined up. We hail from Philadelphia.”

Eli nodded. “So you have family there?”

“Very little. My mother is still living, and a distant cousin.” He latched the bag. “Or they were last I heard.”

“Thunder Ridge is noisy, but it's a friendly town,” Eli noted. “We were nearly flooded out a few weeks ago, but the rain finally stopped.”

“Too much of anything can be a bad thing,” the doctor said.

Copper signed her name, shaking her head. Men. Their feelings ran as deep as women's, but they managed to con
tain their sentiments. She folded the note and stuck it in an envelope. “Please give Betsy my best.”

“Thanks. I will.” Eli stuck the letter in his shirt pocket, then reached to clasp the doctor's hand. Finally Copper recognized the inner light now shining in his eyes. “If I can be of help, you can find me at the mill.”

“Thank you. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” The men shook. Copper didn't experience the pressure of the handshake but she'd guess Eli's was firm and encouraging.

 

When life was good, time flew past; when it wasn't, the hours crawled by like a wounded animal. If it weren't for Audrey and Eli's upcoming nuptials, Copper felt she would lose her mind. Being confined to a bed or a chair left long days to fill, hours when her heart and mind were with the wagon train slowly weaving its way to Colorado. Some of those days she was filled with hope; on others despair occupied her time. She'd grown accustomed to the monotony of travel, and while she didn't miss the bad roads and inclement weather, she did miss her friends. Sadie, Adele…and Josh. How she missed that man!

Sadie and Adele posted as often as possible. Their letters were full of wit, humor, and encouragement, but underlying the lightness, Copper knew the journey was more difficult than they'd anticipated. Winter had hit hard, and the dreary days and frequent cold rain slowed travel to a crawl.

Of late, Josh's letters contained little more than mention of the day's events, that for the most part consisted of stray stock and broken equipment. But the primary tone gave Copper hope.

“How can you help me with my wedding when all you do is stare out of the window?”

Audrey's teasing inflection drew her back to the present. Sighing, she picked up the gown Willow had worn when she exchanged vows with Tucker Gray. Was that only a few weeks ago? It seemed like eons. So much had happened since her first Thunder Ridge visit it made her head swim. So many life-altering events. She focused on Audrey's statement. “Don't you feel that it's too soon?”

“To marry Eli?” Audrey frowned. “Of course not. I've been in love with the man practically from the moment I saw him.”

“No, silly. To wear the same gown Willow got married in.”

“Oh.” Audrey brought a finger to her lip. “I see your point.”

Willow had been so ill at the time of her ceremony she'd mingled only a few minutes following the vow exchange, but the gown was so unusual that the sameness would be noted, especially by Cordelia Padget.

“You can ask Willow how she feels about the matter when she wakens from her nap.”

“No, I'll not bring up the subject. You know Willow. She would insist that I wear the garment.” Audrey folded the dress and laid it back in the box. “I don't need fancy dresses. I can wear my Sunday best. Marrying Eli is all I want.”

Copper studied her friend's flushed features. Love changed people, softened their edges and tempered their dispositions. “You do love the man, don't you?”

“Eli? Beyond words.” Audrey drew the box close to her heart. “Yet for so long I didn't let myself hope that he would come around and share my feelings so quickly.”

“Well, love has a way of taking you by surprise.”

Audrey turned to face her. “He asked me to wait for him
just before Willow and Tucker's ceremony. Of course I said yes, thinking it would take time for him to come around, to open up to a new relationship. But, goodness me, the man is moving so fast now it makes my head reel.”

“He's ready for change. The healing process is different for everyone, and Tate does need a mother.”

“You know, I love that child as much as if he were my own.”

“He is your own, or he will be shortly.”

“Speaking of change.” Audrey met her gaze. “You've changed.”

“How so?”

“You're quieter, less likely to spout off and…well, there's a bloom in your cheeks that wasn't evident earlier.”

“A lot has happened in a short time.”

“Josh?”

Copper nodded. “I love him, Audrey. I'd convinced myself he was the most arrogant man on earth before my accident, but he changed. Or I changed.”

“Or you both changed.”

“Yes, we've both changed, though I know next to nothing about his past. So I guess I can't make the assumption that he's different than before.”

“He has mentioned little about himself.” Audrey picked up her sewing. “But then men for the most part don't care to talk about such things.”

“Oh, he's talked about his past, but offered few details. I know his father left the family when he was small, and he and his three brothers were left to run the farm and care for their mother.”

“That's all he's said?”

“For the most part, but he writes regularly to a woman in Dallas.”

Audrey frowned.

Copper lifted her shoulders. “I don't know who she is. I asked once and he almost took my head off.”

“Really. Perhaps she's a sister? Oh—you said he only had brothers.”

“And from the little I've gathered he doesn't keep in close touch with them.”

“Mother?”

“Deceased now.”

“Cousin? Aunt, perhaps?”

“Perhaps, but somehow I don't think he'd be so dedicated to write so often to an aunt. Every time we got a chance he dropped a letter in the mailbag.”

“Strange. And yet he writes to you.”