Cade Walker rubbed his bloodshot eyes. She had not come back. After weeks of looking forward to her pleadings and apologies, Rose was still gone. Not only that, but he heard she had returned to Denver with a little dark girl. Cade felt his gut contract. It was his fault her name was being dragged through the mud.
“I’m telling you that we will not take your cousin’s child!” he had yelled. Those words now haunted him. He had said them in desperation. Even as they left his tongue, he knew they were wrong. What kind of man had he become? A man who had once outsmarted train robbers by the dozens—now he was a man who had lost his money, his family’s respect, his wife.
Still, he had wanted Rose to yell, to fight. He had wanted an excuse for why he played the cards, why he drank.
But Rose had not yelled. Her cornflower blue eyes had not filled with tears as they once did. Instead, something else had passed over her face: pure resolve.
Cade had rummaged through her jewelry box until he found the jewelry he’d been looking for; his jaw clenched with emotion remembering when he’d given her the necklace. It was a delicate figure of a cow hanging on a silver chain.
He’d had it made especially for her after Rose had come back from a party yanking her hair pins out in frustration because she felt so different from the other women.
“They know magazines and scandal,” she’d shrugged and dabbed at her stubborn tears. “I know cows, and cows, and more cows.” She’d laughed at herself, shaking her head. “And I love my cows.”
“Don’t try to be like them,” Cade had said. “If I had wanted a gossiping woman with three hairdressers I would have married one.” He’d taken her in his arms. “I love that you worked on a dairy. It takes a true woman to milk a cow, and smell like one,” he’d teased before she grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him.
The day after, he had visited a silversmith and had the necklace made for her. He rubbed the necklace now in his fingers as he sat in a circle of men, all anticipating what they could win or lose.
With an audible growl Cade laid down a royal flush on the table. The buxom woman beside him smiled and stroked his knee. She meant nothing to Cade and was simply the flirtatious rebellion of a married man. Rose had ruined their appeal: Every woman was suddenly easy, gaudy, loud, and loose; the antithesis of the wife who had once loved him. He’d begun to hate Rose’s upright ways: They made him feel dirty and less of a man. Now he craved them. Somehow her faith, morals, and general outlook on life acted as an anchor, no matter how he himself chose to live. Scowling, he moved the woman’s hand. Her red painted lips turned down and she began to glance around, looking for a more interested party.
One by one, each participant laid down their row of cards. Cade felt the adrenaline coarse through his body. This is what he needed: the excitement, the rush of the unknown, the possibility that he would leave with heavier pockets.
“I’m all in.” Cade pushed everything he had to the center of the table. He was bluffing, of course. Luck had not been his friend this round. Adrenaline surged through him as his opponent grinned and laid down his own cards. At the sight of deadly Aces, Cade’s spirit fell. He watched the coins and cash he’d offered get swept up with manic glee as the opponent scooped up his winnings.
“I can make you feel better,” the high sugary voice beside him offered seductively. Cade turned and looked at her. She was beautiful with raven locks, clear skin, and a body so perfect it could make Aphrodite herself crumble. “I could make tonight a win for you,” she winked.
Cade let her long fingers trail his leg. Wasn’t this what he wanted? Freedom, excitement, losing and winning in the same night? Why not succumb to the one temptation he’d deflected throughout his marriage. Cade opened his mouth, but no words came. No words, no lust—nothing besides the memory of Rose teasing him, smiling softly, and caressing lazy hearts on his hand during church. No, of course he did not miss that.
“Who am I fooling?” he muttered, earning a confused scowl from the woman.
With a heavy sigh, Cade once again removed the hand from his leg and headed to the bar. More than a physical escape, he needed a strong drink—maybe a few.
/
What was she doing? What in both Heaven and Hades was she doing? Rose bit her lip while Daisy slept in her arms and Meg’s head rested on her shoulder.Two girls. Two lost girls. Rose gulped. Caring for Daisy had not been a choice. She knew the baby needed her and that she needed Daisy. Still, she had never cared for a child, and now she was suddenly having to feed, change, dress, wash, and travel with an infant—an infant who seemed to be doomed to harsh words and prejudice. Now she also had Meg, a young, hurt, and scared girl. Rose herself felt hurt and scared. How could she help Meg figure out a future when Rose did not even know her own? She glanced at Meg. Despite the girl’s best efforts to cover it, she had a pretty face. Interesting how some women hide their beauty, while others obsess over it. Rose had spent a good portion of her marriage primping and investing hours in her looks. If she were pretty enough, she had told herself countless times, Cade would love her enough to stop gambling. The problem must be her, not him. Of course now she knew why she had wanted the problem to be her, because then she could fix it.
“Thank you for teaching me to let go.” Rose whispered a small prayer just as the driver shouted that they would soon be approaching Tall Pine. Meg sat up with a kitten-like smile on her lips as she stretched out her arms. “Did he say we are here?” she asked sleepily.“Nearly,” Rose replied. “My husband used to say that one could smell cherry pastries and apple pie when they were a mile away from Tall Pine.” Rose shifted her weight. She would need to get used to not referring to Cade as her husband.
“Sounds like heaven.” Meg grinned.
Rose nodded in agreement. “Pretty close to it.”
The coach stopped just past the post office, and Rose’s heart began to race. She was about to step outside with Daisy and Meg to once again face more assumptions and whispers. She wished there was a way she could pin her whole history on her forehead so there would be no need to explain. That way no one would be misinformed, and in turn, she would not have to explain her marriage or divorce to anyone. The driver opened the door and offered Meg a hand. Then, holding her breath, Rose allowed herself to be escorted out.
The bright sun assaulted Rose’s eyes as she placed her small-heeled shoe on the ground. A small crowd had gathered to see the passengers. Much to her dismay, Rose recognized no one; she did, however, recognize the looks they gave to her daughter.
Immediately, Rose lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. She glanced at the crowd challengingly and held Daisy even higher on her chest. Daisy was hers, and if anyone had a problem with that fact, then they could simply keep their opinions to themselves.
Meg gazed wonderingly at the small crowd. “Which one is your mother?” she whispered anxiously.
Rose scanned the crowd; some came forward to embrace other passengers now exiting the coach. Most simply whispered to one another with their eyes darting to the cooing Daisy.
There was no sign of Rose’s doe-eyed mother, nor her tall father. She looked past the foreign faces and down the curved cobblestone road lined with glass-paned shops. Things were more colorful than she remembered. There were red geraniums and shops with green doors and yellow framed windows. A sudden warmth spread throughout Rose; this place held such good memories. Kyle Lampton’s bakery, the book store, Eliza’s dress shop, the post office, and the new school house. She could feel at home—if only her mother were among those looking at her.
“Rose!” a familiar masculine voice called out to her. Nearly running, a tall man with jet black curls and a face that looked carved from marble came towards them.
“Jonathan!” Rose felt her face break into a grin as her childhood friend rushed forward. “What are you doing in Tall Pine?” She grabbed his hand in hers, suddenly feeling more at ease.
Jonathan had lived near the dairy with his parents and several brothers—half of them were now employed on Castle Dairy, but Jonathan had left a few years back to study medicine at Harvard. The two had always been close and had sadly disappointed both their parents when no engagement emerged. It was hard to explain to others the lack of romantic feelings they had for each other. Most people in town had assumed that because the two spent so much time with one another, they ought to marry. Ironically, the last time Rose had seen him had been on her own wedding day.
Rose found herself once again wondering why she had not fallen in love with Jonathan. He was by all accounts her perfect match, but the feelings had never come. Then Cade came around, with his square jaw and that slow wink he used whenever he teased her. He came to Tall Pine, alongside his uncle, greeted by angry locals protesting the potential railroad that the Walker family wanted to run through Tall Pine. Cade was a crime consultant specializing in railway robberies.
In the end it was Cade, much to his father’s disapproval, who had convinced his family to not touch Tall Pine. He claimed it would be a tragedy to ruin such a beautiful place. Instantly, he became a local hero, winning Rose’s heart in the process.
“I am the new doctor here,” Jonathan grinned, bringing Rose back to the present moment. “My original plan was to work in New York. I did a month of practice with a colleague and found it was not for me.”
Rose lifted her brows in surprise. “I thought you dreamed of New York?”
Jonathan smiled shyly, the warm dark eyes lighting up. Jonathan had always had a shy bone in him as a result of being a gangly youth with a large nose. Now his jaw had grown, college athletics had developed his muscles, and Rose silently admitted to herself that he had become a strikingly handsome man who managed to still retain that insecure shyness. “I did. I also made quick enemies due to my racial philosophies, and I realized soon enough that Colorado was for me.”
Rose squeezed his hands affectionately before letting go. Jonathan had always been gentle and loving, never understanding any of the prejudices that were so prolific in the world.
“This must be Daisy,” he smiled down at the baby.
“Yes, how did you know?”
His fair skin tinted a soft pink. “Well, your mother sent me. She twisted her ankle some time ago and I was just checking its progress. Anyway, she of course told me the entire story and asked me to fetch you.” He shook his head. “She is back to trying to match-make us I suppose.”
Rose rolled her eyes. “Oh yes,” she laughed. “Is it working?”
“Oh Rose, you know I’d marry you in a minute if it was based purely on admiration and affection, but …”
“I know,” Rose acknowledged solemnly with a mischievous twinkle. “You’re my brother born to the wrong parents.”
Feeling Meg step closer behind her, Rose quickly moved aside. “Oh, Jonathan, this is Meg … Meg Partridge.” As Meg had requested, Rose used her original last name instead of her stepfather’s. “I’ve cajoled, bribed, and begged her to come be the cook for Castle Dairy. Her food is delicious.”
Jonathan grinned and held out a hand. “A pleasure, Miss Partridge. Might I say that I’m a bit envious? Castle Dairy has some of the finest land here in Tall Pine Valley. It is a wonderful place to reside.” He took a step forward to reach for her hand and his mouth dropped as he narrowed his eyes in curiosity. “Do I know you?”
Meg opened her mouth, her color fading then rising in a matter of seconds. “I don’t believe so.”
“Are you sure?” Jonathan took a step closer. “It is just that you seem awfully familiar.”
Rose frowned. “Meg is from Denver, she worked at the—”
“Café,” Meg blurted, “at a small café.”
“Café?” Jonathan repeated.
Rose lifted her eyebrows, but was silent as Meg nodded emphatically, “Just a café.” Subconsciously Meg lifted her hand to touch her hair as Jonathan’s eyes drifted over her bruises. Meg inhaled sharply then winced as the sharp pain in her side stung the way it did whenever she breathed deeply or bumped it. That, too, did not escape the doctor’s notice.
“I fell down the stairs,” she explained.
Jonathan nodded and Rose gave a quick smile. Her eyes told him not to ask any more questions of Meg. “Shall we go?” she asked brightly.
Jonathan seemed reluctant to pull his eyes away from Meg. Once he did, he picked up the two cases, “Well, I am sure you ladies are tired of sitting, but my carriage has some comfortable seats, so hopefully it won’t be too bad.
“You have a carriage? Not a wagon?” Meg asked, tilting her head with what could almost be interpreted as excitement.
“Yes, I do, though I am regretting it now, because every person in Tall Pine asks to drive it. As such, I leave it near the stables. Do you have any more luggage?”
“Sadly, yes, and it is fairly stuffed Jonathan, and very heavy,” Rose apologized.
“I’ll carry my own,” Meg held tightly to her carpetbag. She had two dresses, one for cooking and one for church.
Jonathan nodded, holding her gaze for a moment before Meg turned away. “How are you doing, Rose?” Jonathan asked quietly when Meg was a few paces ahead of them.
Rose shook her head acrimoniously. “I am actually doing well. I now have a child I adore, and I am back in Tall Pine where …” she lowered her voice, “no one stares if you don’t wear a painful corset.”
Jonathan scrunched his nose. “Really Rose, what would your mother say?” he laughed.
“She would agree with me,” Rose said firmly, looking ahead at Meg and not knowing whether to call the girl into their conversation or let her be. She wanted to help Meg, but she didn’t want to be overbearing, nor force her out of her shell before she was ready-if ever she was.
“Abused?” Jonathan whispered, nodding at Meg’s figure ahead of them.
Rose nodded, “For a few years. Four, I believe to be exact.”
“Four! Are you sure?” His face suddenly tightened and his skin paled. “Four,” he repeated to himself with a slight shake of the head.
“What?” Rose asked, worried at the shift in Jonathan’s demeanor.
“Nothing. Father, mother, lover?” he inquired, his voice inflecting at the end.
“Step-father.”
Jonathan nodded. “I noticed her wince from moving her rib cage. I would like to see if it is cracked or broken. Would she be offended or worried by such an offer? Abused girls are often afraid of any man—even a doctor.”
“I’ll ask her once we reach the dairy.”
The two ended the conversation as Jonathan’s carriage came into view. Meg had stopped and was now looking back at them expectedly.
“Everything alright?” She glanced at Rose, who gave her a reassuring nod.
“Just fine. Sorry for walking slow.” She plopped a kiss on Daisy. “This little one is fairly solid in weight.”
“Have you ever driven, Miss Partridge?” Jonathan asked while gently laying Rose’s cases in the back seat.
“I haven’t. Do women drive carriages?” she asked, her eyebrows knitting in confusion.
“Indeed, they do, especially here in Colorado. We are one of the four states who allow women to vote, so we certainly should allow them to drive,” he teased. Meg eyed the carriage. “Truth be told I’ve never even ridden in a carriage. Perhaps I should try something more simple first like riding a horse.”
Jonathan threw his head back and laughed, the black curls falling away from his face. “The two are very different, I assure you.”
Rose was bouncing Daisy who had started to fuss. “Meg, would you like to sit up front? I will be feeding and most likely changing Daisy in the back so it may be more comfortable–”
“No,” Meg said quickly, glancing at Jonathan before returning her eyes to the ground. “You can sit up front if you wish, and I’ll have the back.”
Jonathan opened the door for Rose and helped her in. “Actually, Miss Partridge, it would be safer for the baby sitting in the back. Come join me, and I can show you how to drive the horses.”
Rose scowled, feeling awkward for Meg. Jonathan, despite his friendly manners, must be unnerving for the poor girl. Yet with all the luggage, there was little room, and she certainly did not want to put Daisy at risk by sitting up front. She would just have to let Meg be uncomfortable.