Sunrise Ridge (Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance Book 3) (9 page)

“Anyone been in the Dixie lately?” Travis leaned forward and settled his arms on the table.

“Heard from Luke the other owner is coming to town on next week’s stage to join Nick,” Bull answered.

Nick Barnett and his partner owned the other saloon in Splendor. The Dixie offered entertainment, including the occasional singer or actress from back east. Most of the girls had been brought in from the south, where the owners started in the saloon business years before. People respected Nick, even when the Dixie began to take business away from the Wild Rose.

“Luke would be the one to know,” one of the other men said.

Before they were married, Luke’s wife, Ginny, had caused a minor confrontation between Nick and Luke. After the anger had cleared, Luke had finally seen his way to ask Ginny to marry him. The two men had settled their differences, and Luke even stopped at the Dixie for a drink on occasion.

“Stage is coming in again Tuesday, so guess we’ll get to meet him.” Noah pushed back from the table. “I believe I’ll head out.”

“And miss out on Dinah’s special celebration?” Bull said with a straight face.

Noah spotted Dinah walking up the stairs, one of the Tolbert men behind her.

“Don’t believe that will be a problem.”

He pushed out the doors and into the bright, moonlit night, a slight breeze blowing. He glanced up and down the street, noticing the Dixie’s lights blazing as music wafted outside. He moved his gaze to Suzanne’s boardinghouse, not surprised to see every light out, and found himself wondering in which room Abby slept.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he walked the short distance to the livery. It and the tack shop stood directly across the street from the boardinghouse. If he chose, he could pretty much keep track of the town happenings by who went in and out. His stomach lurched, knowing he’d be seeing Abby every day, at least from a distance. The realization both taunted and comforted him as he slipped through the back door of the livery.

Abby sat at her window, looking out at the main street and listening to the noises from the two saloons. She’d never stayed in town overnight, had no idea what went on after the stores closed and most slept. The activity surprised her.

Saturday proved to be difficult. With the bank closed, she made a brief visit to the general store, purchasing a dress and pair of gloves. She stopped to let Sheriff Evans know she’d returned to Splendor against her father’s wishes, but the jail had been locked tight.

On a normal visit to town, she’d make sure to see Noah and spend as much time around him as he’d allow. Today, she’d walked by the closed blacksmith shop, then wandered into his mining supply and tack shop to see Toby cleaning the shelves. They’d visited for a few minutes, neither mentioning Noah, before she returned to the boardinghouse, keeping Suzanne company in the kitchen. Suzanne refused her help with supper, instead asking if Abby might take on the responsibility of keeping the books for her. She jumped at the chance, working into the night until her eyes crossed.

She’d climbed under the covers, tucking them beneath her chin to ward off a slight chill, thinking sleep would claim her within minutes. An hour later, she lay in the same position, staring at the ceiling. Frustrated, she threw off the covers and slipped into her wrapper before taking a seat at the window to watch the moonlight create images from the passing clouds. Drawing her knees up, she wrapped her arms around them and leaned against the window frame. Abby let her eyes drift shut, allowing herself to think of Noah.

It had been a hard decision to tell him she no longer cared. Lies never came easily to Abby. After many hours of reflection, she’d accepted it had been her mistake to push Noah for something he couldn’t offer. He must have believed her to be one of the brashest women he’d ever met, yet he’d always been a gentlemen, never suggesting he thought her actions impetuous given how little they knew about each other.

She wrapped her arms around herself and, closing her eyes, remembered the first time she’d meet Noah.

Abby had come home from Philadelphia the summer before what she thought would be her last year back east. She didn’t want to leave the ranch when her father first mentioned boarding school, but he’d ignored all her protests and pleading. A rigid and controlling man, King Tolbert disregarded Abby’s objections, believing she had little common sense and approached all issues with emotion. The assumption had no basis in fact. In many ways, Abby took after him more than her mother.

Smart, brash, and energetic like her father, she also held qualities Tolbert lacked—compassion, empathy, and an infectious personality. All had been traits of her mother, who’d passed away years before, leaving Abby to fend for herself in a world surrounded by men.

Within minutes of her arrival on the stage, her father visited Noah. Tolbert ordered tools, picked up a horse Noah tended, and made arrangements for repairs to their buggy.

Abby shifted on the window seat, remembering how she’d let her gaze roam over the man who towered above her father. His broad shoulders, muscular arms, and piercing blue eyes cut straight through her, unnerving and exciting her at the same time. His shirt stretched taut over an expansive chest, a hint of golden-colored hair peeking out. She drew in a breath and tried to look away, but couldn’t. He intrigued her, even though he made no attempt to introduce himself or include her in the conversation with her father.

After several minutes of being ignored, Abby stepped forward and wrapped her hand through her father’s arm. “Aren’t you going to introduce me, Father?”

Both men glanced at her—King Tolbert in irritation, and Noah with what she thought resembled amusement.

“Abigail, this is Mr. Brandt. Brandt, my daughter, Abigail Tolbert.” His exasperation at having to include her didn’t surprise Abby or discourage her from dropping her arm from his and walking forward.

“Ma’am.” Noah nodded as she came to a halt within a couple feet of him.

“Mr. Brandt. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I just arrived on the stage from Philadelphia.”

“Is that so?” Noah asked, the deep rumble of his voice washing over her, igniting a warm sensation in her stomach that traveled to her toes.

“Oh, yes. I’ve been at boarding school for so long, I sometimes forget how much I miss Splendor. Do you like it here, Mr. Brandt?”

“Yes, ma’am, I do.”

“Have you—”

“That’s enough, Abby,” her father cut in, settling a hand on her elbow and pulling her back toward him. “I’ll be back in a week for the order, Brandt.”

“It’ll be ready,” Noah answered, never taking his eyes off Abby.

As her father escorted her away, Abby remembered glancing over her shoulder at Noah, flattered to see his gaze still fixed on her. She knew nothing of love or courtship, or even much about what happened between a man and a woman. However, at that instant, she knew Noah Brandt would be someone important in her life.

Abby opened her eyes and yawned, feeling as if she might now be able to claim sleep. She pulled back the curtain, took one more look outside, then shifted away when she spotted a man walk out of the swinging doors of the Wild Rose. He stepped into the moonlight and her breath caught. Noah. She dropped the curtain, continuing to stare.

Even from her vantage point a floor above and across the street didn’t diminish his tall, muscular form. She watched as he glanced down the street, then moved his gaze to the boardinghouse, his head tipping up until he appeared to be looking straight at her. She flinched away before realizing he wouldn’t be able to see into her dark room through the dust-covered glass and sheer curtains.

Noah seemed to be searching. Abby wondered if he might be trying to guess which room was hers, then shook her head at the silly thought. He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned toward the livery. Abby didn’t move as he disappeared inside. Even then, her gaze stayed locked on the door to his private quarters.

For a brief, impetuous moment, she thought of slipping into her coat and shoes and dashing across the street, pounding on his door and admitting she’d lied. She wanted to explain her true feelings and hope he might admit to returning her affections. Thankfully, she reined in her impulsive actions and turned toward her bed, slipping under the covers and shutting her eyes tight.

“What do you mean you don’t have her?” Tolbert roared at the hired hand who’d returned with several other men from Big Pine.

The man took a step back, fingering the brim of the hat he held in both hands. He knew if they returned without Miss Tolbert, there’d be hell to pay. Their boss wasn’t the type of man who listened to reason.

“We watched three stages come and go, as you ordered, and when she didn’t appear, we rode back. The stage master told us a young woman got off the coach in Moosejaw, but he didn’t have a name. We could ride to Moosejaw—”

“No,” Tolbert interrupted, slamming his fist on his desk. He had to think. “Get out,” he ordered, lowering himself into a chair, wondering where she’d gone.

She’d always been stubborn, having her own ideas and opinions, which often conflicted with his own. Until Noah Brandt entered her life, she’d never been defiant. Tolbert believed Abigail thought she loved Brandt, but he knew otherwise. He believed Brandt to be nothing more than a tool she selected to get back at him for sending her away and controlling the direction of her life. By offering herself to Brandt, she’d found the one instrument of complete retaliation.

The blacksmith represented everything she knew her father scorned—people in trade who used their hands to make a living. They lacked social standing and wealth and, therefore, were beneath him and Abigail.

He stood, paced to a table, and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. Pouring a good amount into a glass, he took a sip, trying to put himself in Abby’s place. Where would she go, and whom would she turn to for help? Several names came to mind, but only one made complete sense—Noah Brandt.

Tolbert tossed back the last of the whiskey, buckled his gun belt in place, and charged outside, yelling to some of his men to saddle his horse and follow him. They’d ride to town, find Noah Brandt, and force him to tell Tolbert what he wanted to know.

Chapter Eight

Sunday passed in a pleasant blur. Abby attended church with Suzanne, not caring who learned she’d returned to Splendor. She had a job and a place to live. Her father could no longer compel her to return to the ranch to live under his expectations of her.

After church, Suzanne prepared food for her boarders, then packed a picnic for her and Abby. They borrowed Doc Worthington’s wagon, heading east toward a small hill overlooking the town. Abby tried to conceal her interest as they passed the livery, then felt a stab of disappointment to see it closed with no smoke coming from the forge.

Noah often worked Sundays to keep up with the increasing demand for his services. She knew he hoped to hire help at some point, perhaps training one of the new arrivals needing work. It appeared he’d decided to ride to his cabin, or perhaps visit the Pelletiers.

Within no time, they’d arrived at a special spot Suzanne loved, then ate their meal. Abby stretched on a blanket afterwards, closing her eyes and summoning up an image of Noah walking down the street to his livery the night before. Before she knew it, Suzanne’s voice called to her and she sat up with a jerk.

“You’ve slept for almost an hour.” Suzanne smiled as she set the basket back in the wagon. “As lovely as the day is, we need to start back. Those boarders of mine get grumpy when their supper is late.”

Her leisurely Sunday ended as they made small talk on the ride back to town. After helping Suzanne with a few chores, she fell into bed, anticipating the following day.