Sunrise Ridge (Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance Book 3) (27 page)

“I’ve spoken to him little since he returned after hearing of your father’s death. Seems capable and has experience as a foreman. If your father hired him, I’m sure he has the skills you need.”

“Remember, though, he also hired Parnell Drake.” A quick, sharp pain shot through her before she concealed it with a shake of her head. “However, I do agree with you about Masters. If Father had listened to him, called off his plan to confront Drake with so few men, he might still be alive today.”

“Supper is ready, Miss Abigail,” Fanny said, poking her head into the office.

“Thank you, Fanny.”

For years, Fanny Dobbins worked at the ranch as their cook and housekeeper. She’d stayed after Abby’s mother died, making the decision to leave when Tolbert sent Abby away to school. Ruth Paige, the reverend’s wife, sent Fanny a telegram notifying her of Tolbert’s death. Within a few days, she returned to support Abby, planning to stay as long as needed.

Payson escorted Abby to the table, glad to put the business dealings behind them for a while. He’d seen how the sheer size of Tolbert’s estate overwhelmed her. Unlike many men, Payson had worked with several women of wealth, most perfectly capable of taking over when their husbands died. They required his guidance with many decisions and paid him well for his sound direction. He’d thought it would be the same with Abigail. He’d been wrong.

He’d met her once at a party King Tolbert held at his home. The guest list included several bachelors, all considered a suitable match for Abigail. She’d spurned each one. Ernest had spent little time with her that day, preferring to watch, decide for himself if she might be worth pursuing. By nightfall, he’d determined she’d be more than worth the effort.

Living in Big Pine didn’t afford the convenience of courting a woman a day’s ride away. The untimely and tragic circumstances of Tolbert’s death required Ernest to stay at the ranch for an extended period, providing the time and opportunity to get to know her, see if they might suit.

“Appears Mrs. Dobbins expected more to join us.” Ernest’s eyes scanned the table filled with plates of meat, chicken, potatoes, green beans, turnips, braised apples, and bread. His mouth watered at the aromas.

“She’ll take whatever isn’t eaten to the bunkhouse. Believe me, it will disappear within minutes.” Abby shifted in her chair, adjusting her long skirt, trying to conjure up an appetite which had eluded her since learning of her father’s death. The one person who seemed to understand and provide support came around little. She glanced at the chair where Noah sat on his few visits since the funeral.

He’d visited a few times, eaten supper twice, excusing himself soon after to make the journey back to town, leaving her to spend another strained evening with Ernest Payson. Each time Noah left, she wanted to run after him, hold up her arms so he could lift her into the saddle, and ride out with him. Her father’s death had changed their relationship in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

 She didn’t understand the distance he seemed to be building between them, especially after being so attentive for weeks. Most evenings before would end with her in his arms, Noah kissing her senseless, making her knees quake at the intensity of his desire. Each time, he’d pull away before going to a point from which neither could return, and each time, she wished he hadn’t.

Abby loved Noah, wanted to share her life with him in good times and bad. Her wealth complicated matters, at least in his mind. She knew he struggled with her affluence, comparing it to his job as a blacksmith, believing his status too far beneath her. Abby didn’t give a whit about social status or money. She wanted Noah.

Weeks before, she’d believed it wouldn’t be long before he asked for her hand. Then Drake murdered her father. Days were filled with visits from neighbors and friends, expressing their condolences, cooking meals, and helping to make arrangements for the funeral.

Abby moved back to the ranch, at least for a while, to settle her father’s affairs. Ernest Payson arrived within a few days, taking a room near her father’s downstairs study. Quiet and efficient, he seemed to care only for helping her understand her father’s estate and make the required decisions to keep Tolbert’s businesses running.

Noah had taken one look at Ernest and come to an immediate and, as of yet, unspoken decision. Although cordial, she sensed a chasm grow between them—one not of her making.

Noah didn’t know she had no intention of making the ranch her home, unless he stayed by her side, which seemed doubtful. He ignored her cautious hints about a future together, at times looking at her as if she were a wayward child, incapable of grasping the reality as he saw it. Those times angered her the most. She’d built a life in Splendor, worked at a job she enjoyed, and had every intention of continuing once the affairs of the ranch had been settled.

Ernest’s suggestion to Noah that he become her foreman caused an intense reaction. He’d glanced between her and Payson, opened his mouth to say something before clamping it shut, then stormed off without explanation. He hadn’t returned, leaving her angry, hurt, and confused.

“You’ve been cooped up here for weeks. Why don’t I accompany you to town tomorrow? You can visit friends then, if you agree, I’ll escort you to supper.” Ernest delivered the invitation in a genial manner, not sounding as a man intent on courting her would, for which she felt grateful.

She had an almost desperate need to see Noah, spend time with him, ask why he’d stayed in town and didn’t bother to visit. Perhaps they’d have lunch together, or maybe he’d join her and Ernest for supper.

“I
have
felt as if the walls are closing around me, Ernest. A visit to town would be wonderful. There are some questions I have for Mr. Clausen, and it would give me a chance to see Suzanne.”

“The owner of the boardinghouse?”

“Yes. We are quite good friends.” She chewed a bite of roast, eyeing Ernest from under her long lashes. “Would you mind if I invited Noah Brandt to share supper with us?”

Ernest picked up his napkin, dabbed at the corners of his mouth, then placed it back on his lap. “Not at all.” Sipping from the wine Fanny had poured, he noticed Abby’s glass sat empty. “Are you certain you don’t care for wine? It is quite good.”

“I’m certain it is or my father wouldn’t have purchased it. It doesn’t take much wine for my head to feel as if it’s spinning off my body.”

Ernest grinned at her description. “Some sherry then? It might help relieve your tension.”

She blinked, not realizing he’d noticed her stress. “Perhaps I’ll take a glass upstairs with me. It may help me sleep.”

“Are you having trouble sleeping?”

“A little. I wake up, then lay there for what seems like hours, thinking of my father, the ranch, and of all I still must do. More times than I can count, I awaken with a headache.” She pushed two fingers against a temple, as if to emphasize the point.

“This might help.” Ernest pushed from the table and walked around to stand behind her chair. “Lean forward a little.”

She glanced over her shoulder before bending forward and feeling his hands rest on her shoulders, massaging the tense muscles. At first, his touch startled her, but as he continued to apply pressure to the sore tissues, she relaxed, feeling some of the tension slip away. She closed her eyes, letting a sigh escape her lips. Although his hands felt good, they couldn’t compare to the spark she felt whenever Noah touched her, wrapped his arms around her, drew a finger down her cheek.

Fantasizing Noah stood behind her, she swallowed the lump in the back of her throat. They’d come so far, become good friends, sharing so many dreams. Unless she did something soon, Abby feared she might lose him forever.

“Are you still awake?”

Her eyes popped open. She’d almost fallen asleep under his gentle ministrations and her musings of Noah.

“Yes, I’m awake. Thank you, Ernest. I feel much better.” She pushed away from the table and stood, turning to face him. “I believe I’ll retire now, unless you have more for me to review.”

Seeing the weariness in her eyes, he shook his head. “We have plenty of time, Abigail. There’s no reason to push further tonight.”

“Goodnight then. I’ll see you in the morning.” She took the steps in slow fashion, as if floating up the stairs.

He watched her disappear near the top and picked up his wine glass, taking another sip. Ernest had never met her equal. The more time he spent around Abigail, the more he wanted to peel back each layer, as if she were a ripe piece of fruit, and learn all he could. He’d never seen himself as a romantic. Abigail Tolbert might prove his notion wrong.

Noah tossed his cards to the center of the table and grabbed his whiskey, holding it up, staring at the dark amber liquid as he swirled it in the glass.

“Damndest run of bad luck you’ve had in a while.”

Noah shrugged at Gabe’s comment. He didn’t care about the game, the whiskey, or his friend’s attempts to keep his mind off Abby.

“Good thing it isn’t a big money game or you’d be betting your livery by now.” Bull also tossed his cards aside, looking toward Travis, who continued the betting with Gabe.

The two had ridden to town for supplies, stayed for supper, then joined Noah and Gabe at the Dixie. Bull felt a stab of guilt at sitting here and not the Wild Rose. He’d been going there so long, it felt as comfortable as another home.

“You want my opinion?” Bull asked, looking at Noah.

“Probably not. But I’m not that lucky, am I?”

“Nope,” Bull chuckled, picking up the cards Travis dealt him. “Abigail’s going through a bad time. That girl doesn’t need any lawyer from Big Pine telling her what to do. She needs a friend, someone who knows and cares about her.”

“She’s got friends. Plenty of them, including Suzanne, and Rachel and Ginny Pelletier.” Noah tipped his chair back on two legs, rolling his glass between his palms.

“They’re not who she needs.” Bull’s razor-like gaze fixed on Noah.

“She knows where I am if she needs help.”

“You’re a damn fool, Noah.”

“I’ve been told that before.”

“Good evening, Sheriff. Nick didn’t tell me you came in tonight.” Lena stood beside him, admiring his strong profile and the way his broad shoulders filled out his shirt. She’d thought him handsome the first time they’d met, finding herself more attracted to him with each encounter, but he’d never learn of it from her. “You boys getting everything you need?”

“We’re good, Lena.” Gabe let his gaze wander over her lush curves before locking on her bright blue eyes. Their gazes held a moment before he wrenched his away to focus on the cards in his hand. He didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him when it came to her. Sure, her exotic beauty captivated him, urging him to discover what lay below the cool exterior, learn her secrets and share his, but damned if he knew why. There were plenty of other women, most respectable, he could fantasize about. Why did he obsess about a woman who owned a saloon, making her money by pleasing men?

“Let me know if there’s something you want.” She tapped Gabe’s shoulder, her eyes glittering with amusement. “Deborah would still like to get to know you, if you’re ever interested.” Before he could respond, she turned and sashayed toward the bar, stopping to chat with other patrons.

Noah caught the way Gabe’s eyes widened at Lena’s comment, then followed her as she moved from table to table. He knew his friend would never take her up on the offer to visit Deborah. She wasn’t the woman who caught his attention. If the need arose, Gabe would make the journey to Big Pine, visit with Dolly, then return to Splendor with his thoughts in order—at least for a time.

“I’m done.” Noah pushed from the table, clasping Gabe on the shoulder before heading outside and into the cool night air. He took a deep breath, glancing up at the stars and wondering about Abby. Perhaps Bull had it right.

She hadn’t asked him to stay away.
He’d
been the one to sense a need for distance. For Noah, the balance of their relationship shifted with Tolbert’s death. While she lived in town, worked at the bank, and shunned her father’s wealth, he felt on level ground with her—an equal. He’d let his insecurities slip away, began to believe himself good enough, one worthy of loving and marrying her. All that changed when he witnessed her work through the details and decisions of her father’s estate with Payson. The reality of his position and hers slammed into him with an impact that shattered his previous beliefs.

He’d always took pride in his work, growing the livery and smithy business. The money he’d placed in Clausen’s bank affirmed Noah’s success. The miner’s supply and tack shop he’d opened months before had made money within weeks of the first sale. Ideas for other businesses filled his mind as he hammered away at the forge every day. Thanks to his friendship with Gabe, he was well-read with a good education. Numbers came easily to him, as did an ability to grasp complex legal contracts. He had good friends, people he could count on. He’d built a good life and considered himself prosperous. But it wasn’t enough—not for Abby.

Abby deserved the best. Ernest Payson, with his law degree and political contacts, could provide her a future well beyond Noah’s means. He’d seen the way Payson looked at her, knew he had an interest beyond helping with the estate. Payson wanted her in the same way as Noah. The pain at the idea of another man winning her love pierced him as if a lance had been driven through his heart.