14

Grace enjoyed working in her vegetable garden, knowing it promised the bounty of a good harvest that would soon come. Bluebelle quacked and waddled around with interest at her every move, making her laugh aloud, but Grace worked around her. Time spent outdoors on such a gorgeous spring day gave her time alone to think. Uppermost in her mind was the potato crop. Her father had walked with her to the field to inspect it, which took all his strength, but he’d declared that it looked good and healthy.

Pausing a moment, she glanced up, shielding her eyes to see Robert walking about the field and checking it out as well. In the weeks since he’d come to work for them, she’d noticed the paleness of his skin tanned to a warm brown, and his hands took on the look of a farmer—broken, ragged nails and calluses. There was something altogether pleasing about this image and his presence. She was beginning to become familiar with the way he stood, one hand resting on his hip, slightly bent shoulders that pulled tight against the suspenders he wore with his faded brown work pants. Most times his broad hat hid his eyes from view, which he seemed to prefer, but she could still guess his mood by the firm set of his jaw or his tight-lipped way of speaking. A few times she’d caught him smiling—slightly—but she didn’t remember ever hearing him laugh.

She created a well with a mound of dirt around the tomato plants, listening to the cacophony of birds in the blueberry bushes, until she heard a rider coming up the lane. It was Warren. She straightened and shook the dirt from her skirt, then smoothed her apron. He was supposed to have come before now. She guessed he’d finally found time. She would’ve expected him to drive a buggy dressed as nicely as he was in a dashing pin-striped suit and vest. He drew his horse up near her and dismounted with a broad grin, showing a dimpled cheek and a charming glint in his deep-set eyes.

“I’m sorry to drop in unannounced, but work has kept me slaving away.”

She withheld a smile since he hadn’t showed up when he’d said he would, but said, “I understand.”

He removed his gloves. “Do you have a moment?”

“Yes, I can use the break from weeding. Why don’t we have a seat on the porch? Can I get you something to drink?” He followed her toward the house, and she saw Robert turn from the potato field to glance at them.

“No, but thank you. I can only stay a short time. Frank will be expecting me.”

They took a seat in the rockers on the porch. “Oh, are you working on a big case together?” Grace asked.

“Not really, just general law stuff. Nothing that would interest you, I’m sure.”

She leaned over her rocker’s arm to ask, “So tell me—do you like working with Frank? Ginny and I are very good friends.”

“So she tells me. You must get very lonely out here away from town.”

“Oh, town’s not that far, and there’s plenty here to keep me busy.”

“I’m sure, but you’re isolated from people. When’s the last time you’ve been out to a restaurant?”

Grace narrowed her gaze in thought for a moment. She really couldn’t remember, but it had been a very long time.

“See what I mean? How about I come for you Saturday night for a nice dinner in town?” He flashed her a charming smile.

“Well . . .” She hesitated. “I don’t see why not. I’d like to get my pop settled before I leave. He’s been having some health issues.”

“That’s no problem. I’ll pick you up—say, about six o’clock?”

When she nodded he grinned. “Perfect!” he said, rising from the chair. “I must hurry along for now, but I shall be looking forward to spending an evening with you.”

“I’m flattered.” Grace felt her face flush, then followed him down the porch steps.

“Not at all. A pretty lady like you needs the attention of an eligible man, and I’m just the one to see to it.” He lifted her hand to kiss the top—much to her surprise. “See you soon, Grace.”

Quickly he was off and galloping out of the front yard, leaving behind a trail of dust. Grace couldn’t help but turn in the direction of Robert, who was now walking over.

“Is there trouble or something you need help with?” he asked when he drew near.

“Oh, no! Not at all. Warren works for Ginny’s husband, Frank. He’s asked me out to supper Saturday night.”

He stared openly at her and her heart pinged under the scrutiny of his pensive eyes. “I see. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I didn’t think you were, only looking out for us out here. Excuse me, but I must finish the weeding before I start supper.”

He started to walk away but paused, then asked, “You said yes, didn’t you?”

“Not that it’s your concern, but yes I did, and I’m looking forward to getting out for a change.” Was it possible that he looked at her a little longer than ordinary? Or was she imagining it? If so, it was the first time two men had ever been interested in her at the same time. Maybe they were just being nice. Don’t let your heart rule your head. But she smiled as she returned to the garden, taking note of the thoughtful expression on Robert’s handsome face.

Tom set off down the road away from town, taking his sweet time and pausing to watch a herd of antelope in the lush valley. They sure were a pretty sight, but he knew Indians and most folks hunted them for food. It was hard enough for him to kill a rabbit for stew.

He heard animated voices ahead and slowed his steps. He normally passed a farmer or two on their way to town and back. He hoped there weren’t Indians nearby. He’d seen them once, far away, close to the foothills. They’d seemed peaceful and ignored him for the most part. Still, he needed to be cautious. Before rounding the curve in the dirt-packed road, he walked quietly along the edge to creep behind the brush—just in case.

It wasn’t Indians or a farmer. To his surprise, a well-dressed man stood with his thumbs in his pockets talking to the driver of a wagon. Then he walked to the back of the wagon, lifted the tarp, and seemed to be counting cartons. Tom wondered what was in them.

The businessman circled back around to the man in the wagon. “Okay. Looks good.” Tom couldn’t hear much of what they said. The man on the wagon seat leaned down to hand the businessman an envelope while chewing on a wad of tobacco in his mouth, then finally landed a spit some yards away. Amazing, Tom thought, to be able to spit that far. He’d like to try that sometime, but he knew Robert wouldn’t allow it, and without a friend to challenge, there wouldn’t be much fun in it.

The two men shook hands and the businessman got back on his horse, giving it a swift kick in the ribs before heading back in the direction of town. The other man took the fork in the road after a crack of his whip across the two horses’ backs.

Tom pushed through the brush and back onto the road, thinking it seemed a mighty odd meeting to him. He was glad they hadn’t seen him in case they were up to no good. He had to hurry home to beat Robert back from work before supper. His stomach growled, reminding him he was fiercely hungry.

Grace saddled Cinnamon, determined not to let the day pass before enjoying a ride in the country. Her pop was napping and Robert had already left for the day. She had to admit, she was more than a little curious about how he spent his time. Maybe he had someone he regularly saw in town. Once she’d been tempted to follow him, but she decided that was out of the question.

The breeze lifted the sash on her bonnet, but the wind and air felt fresh on her face so she let her bonnet hang down her back. She hadn’t ridden this far or as fast in quite some time, and it was obvious that Cinnamon needed the workout as well.

Columbines and asters dotted the Gallatin Valley, while the tender pale-green leaves of the cottonwoods were beginning to unfurl. She felt alive and exhilarated with the adventure of being one with nature and totally alone for the ride . . . or at least she thought she was.

There was something in the distance in the clearing between a stand of pines trees that caught her eye. As she slowed Cinnamon to a trot, it became apparent that it was a campsite—on her property. What in the world? She drew closer but continued with caution.

“Hello there!” she said, drawing the horse up and dismounting. To her surprise, the three grubby children she’d met twice before rose from the campfire with shocked looks on their faces, as if they’d been caught red-handed. “Where are your parents? I must speak with them.” Grace fought to control her irritation and waited for an answer.

The boy—Tom, she remembered—stepped up closer. “I remember you—you’re the lady with the funny duck!”

“And so I am, but can I please speak to your mother? Or is she not around?”

The little one grasped her older sister’s hand. “Tell her, Becky, that we don’t have a mama.”

“Shh, Sarah.” Becky frowned down at the little girl and Tom shifted in his boots.

“What do you mean? Are you children here all alone?” This was getting more confusing than the first time Grace saw them at the mercantile. That would explain why the children looked unkempt.

“No, they’re not alone. They’re with me,” a familiar voice behind her said.

Grace turned around. “Robert? What are you doing here? I don’t understand—”

“I’ll explain everything.” Robert walked from behind the wagon parked just out of view of the campfire.

Her mind was whirling. Whatever was going on here—right under her nose? “Yes, indeed you will. Did you know that this is my property? How long have you been camping here?”

“Long enough to know we hate living outside,” Becky offered, and Robert threw her a look to silence her.

“Children. I need to speak with Grace. I mean, Mrs. Bidwell.”

“Got yourself in hot water now, Papa, haven’t you,” Tom jeered, then disappeared from the clearing.

“Tom—” Robert’s voice was stern.

“I want to stay right here and look at the pretty lady,” Sarah said, smiling up at Grace.

Grace almost forgot her fury with the child’s remark. Sarah allowed Becky to pull her back to the pot over the campfire to help peel potatoes, although they were still within earshot.

Robert strode over to her and motioned for them to walk away from the children. “Grace, I was trying to be out of here before you ever found out we were staying here.”

“I don’t understand any of this. Why have you all been living in a wagon outdoors in the first place? This is not the Dark Ages, in case you hadn’t noticed.” She stared into his eyes, hoping for some easy answer to explain this dubious predicament. “And with children, no less!” If he only knew the soft spot she had for children, he would’ve understood her anger. She felt the girls’ eyes on them, but when she looked over at them, they pretended to busy themselves with supper.

“I know that it’s none of my business what my hired help does outside of his work, but don’t you think you could have enlightened me when there were children involved—”

“Please, Grace. Take a deep breath, and I’ll do my best to explain as much as I can.”

“You mean as much as you care to!” Really! She had a good mind to turn him in to the authorities. Her heart twisted in her chest. They needed a mother. One hard look at them told her that. “You better have a clear explanation why you’ve been living in the woods of all places, on my property, alone with three children!”