25

ch-fig

Robert kicked at a rock with the toe of his boot, furious with himself. That’s what women did to him. No, that’s what one woman does to me! When had he let her get under his skin? How could I let that happen? She’ll either fire me or hate me for sure now. He was so deep in his thoughts that he walked right past the boardinghouse, then decided to continue walking to clear his head.

Soon he was leaving Bozeman behind and stepping into the cool dampness of the forest. The quietness of the woods suited him and his frame of mind, and there was nothing around to disturb him other than the sound of the rushing Gallatin River. He went off the trail and sat on a downed pine log by the river’s edge to think.

Never would he have guessed that he would have married and lost his wife and gained three children, half-grown. Never would he have guessed he would lose his farm. Never would he have guessed he would have feelings for another woman. Never!

But that’s how love goes in this crazy world, he thought. When he’d least expected it, gentle and gracious Grace had waltzed into his heart, cracking it open. But from the horrified look on her face just now, she didn’t return those feelings. Oh, she loved the kids sure enough, but not him. When his lips made contact with hers, there was instant fire in his belly that made his hands shake even now as he thought about it. Had he felt that with Ada? Hard as he tried to recall, he couldn’t. Best that he remember what had happened with Ada instead of fancying himself with another woman.

A twig snapped and he heard voices. As Robert stepped back onto the trail, he saw Warren speaking with another man. Both were on horseback and turned when they heard him approach. The men shook hands, and the other man trotted off in a hurry. Warren didn’t smile, but turned his horse around to face Robert.

“What are you doing walking in the woods when it’s so soggy? Name’s Richard, isn’t it?”

“Wet or dry—matters not to me. I feel right at home in the woods.”

Warren gave him a skeptical look. “Then you can have these woods all to yourself,” he remarked. He kicked his horse in the flanks and flew past Robert.

Definitely an odd man. What did Grace see in him? A comfortable life, maybe? Prestige? Could be. Plus, Robert could have sworn Grace had said Warren was out of town.

By the time Robert returned to the boardinghouse, all was quiet and Grace and Owen had already left. Which was fine with him. He didn’t want to have to face Grace just yet.

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“Grace, are you mad at me about something?” Owen asked. “You’ve been awfully quiet since we got home.”

Grace glanced over at her father. “Of course not.” She went back to her mending, though her lack of concentration meant she’d have to rip out the seam she had finished on her blouse.

“Your face is telling me something else,” he pushed. “Are you upset that me and Stella are courting?”

“Is that what you call it? I had no idea. You haven’t so much as mentioned Stella to me. I thought you were just friends.” Grace knew better but pretended not to.

Owen laughed. “If an old man like myself can call it courting, then I suppose it is. But yes, we are becoming friends, and to me that’s a whole lot more important at my age. I’m sorry that I didn’t fill you in. I guess it slipped my mind.”

“I see.”

“Do you, honestly? Grace, I have a feelin’ you are worrying about me too much.”

“I confess, I am concerned about you having a lady friend. Is she after your money? Will she care about someone whose health—?”

“A cripple, you mean? You have nothing to worry about. She is very interested in my illness and has asked plenty about it and sympathizes. As far as money—which I have little of—she has no interest in what she can get from me. She’s a woman that requires little in life besides her books, cats, or long walks.”

“My, but she sounds like a recluse. I’m surprised she’d have time to spend with you, then.” Somehow her reply didn’t come out the way she intended it to—her father’s face made that clear.

“Thanks for your confidence in me. I’m going to bed.” He struggled to get up from his chair and Grace hurried to his side.

Grace could tell he was hurt. “Pop, I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to sound so mean. I guess I’m more worried about living alone the rest of my life.” She placed her arm under his to assist him and he stopped to look her square in the eye.

“Grace, have a little faith. You’re still a good-looking catch for any man. Maybe your relationship will grow with Warren. And I don’t plan on going anywhere . . . I don’t think.”

They both laughed at his comment. “Which tells me you’re thinking it’s a possibility, Pop.” They continued to Owen’s bedroom and got him comfortable for the night.

“I confess, I think about companionship too, you know. You don’t want to be saddled with me the rest of your life,” he remarked as she tucked the covers around him.

She smoothed the covers. “I don’t think of you that way at all. I love you and want the best for you.”

“And I for you, daughter. So back to my earlier question. Why were you so withdrawn tonight?”

Grace sat on the edge of the bed. “On my way to Ginny’s Robert told me that he’s going to work for Eli.”

“Oh no. Not now. Just when things are starting to fall into place around here. Did he tell you why?”

Grace fingered the satin on the blanket’s edge. “He explained to me he must earn more money. He promised he’d still be around to help but will work part-time in the afternoons for Eli.”

“Then that’s not so bad, is it? . . . Is it?” he repeated with a quizzical look at Grace.

“I suppose it could work, but . . .” She didn’t want to say more. “I’ll still have to hire extra hands at harvesttime.”

“What are you not telling me, Grace?” He sighed heavily.

“Pop, he kissed me!” she blurted out.

“Whoop! That surprises me. After what his wife did to him, I thought he’d written women out of his future.”

“Maybe. He apologized, so he probably didn’t mean it, I’m thinking.”

“Ha! Don’t be too sure of that. I’ve seen him look at you with a gleam in his eye.”

“Pop! You’re joshing me!”

“Nope. I think the only one who hasn’t noticed is you. How did that kiss make you feel?”

She thought a moment. “Confused. Surprised.”

“Look, it never hurts to have two eligible men sparking one woman. It gives you a chance to compare.” Owen leaned back on his pillow, his lids visibly heavy.

“I’ll keep that in mind, but I think you’re wrong. I believe the kiss didn’t mean anything. Warren travels quite a bit so I’m not sure what to make of him. He loves talking about himself—” Grace clamped her mouth shut when she noticed her father was asleep. She leaned over and kissed his brow, turned off the lantern, then tiptoed out of the room, shoving down the lump in her throat.

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Grace was hanging the morning wash on Monday, thankful that the rain that had drenched the valley was past them now. She heard the sound of a wagon and looked over the clothesline to see Robert coming up the lane with the children with him. Would he say anything about the kiss yesterday?

When he stopped the wagon, the children scrambled down, so she put down the pillowcase she was about to hang and walked over to them. Sarah came running up and hugged her, leaving Becky timidly hanging behind, but Grace waved her to come and enveloped her in a warm hug. “I’m glad you came today.”

“I’ll help you hang the laundry,” Becky offered.

“I’d be very happy to have your help, Becky. Later we can make lunch . . . that is, if you’re all staying.”

“I hope we are,” Sarah said, then turned when she saw Bluebelle. “Hello, my friend. Are you happy to see me?” She bent down and stroked the neck of the duck strutting around her, then went traipsing out of the yard with Bluebelle following.

“Don’t go too far, Sarah,” Grace reminded her.

Tom waved at her, then followed Robert, hoe in hand, to the field where the potatoes were thriving from all the rain they’d been having. They ought to have a good crop this year, and the money would come in handy.

She and Becky continued to hang laundry under the clearing skies for the sun to dry. “Becky, what’s it like living in the boardinghouse?” Grace asked.

Becky shrugged her thin shoulders. “Okay, I guess. It sorta feels like we’re visiting someone’s big house, but at least the bed is nice.”

Grace laughed. “I think I know what you mean. Is Stella kind to you?” Grace was hoping the child’s innocent appraisal could shed some light on the character of her father’s friend.

Becky bobbed her head. “Oh, yes, ma’am. Sort of like a grandma.”

“That’s good then, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but Papa said we’ll have our own place very soon.”

“I hope you do, Becky, and remember you and Sarah and Tom are welcome here any time.”

It took a while to finish hanging the laundry. Grace noticed how meticulous Becky was and praised her. Becky’s upturned face glowed under the compliment.

“Could you run down the lane and get Sarah? We can make lunch now that the menfolk are coming back from the field.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Becky skipped happily out of the yard calling for Sarah. Grace started for the house.

A few moments later, Becky came running into the yard and grabbed Grace’s hand. “Please, come quick, Sarah has fallen into the creek! I can’t reach her and neither of us can swim!”