“Boss, I get the feeling she’s still got her hopes pinned on you. She barely sees me.” Ward, like Eddie, stared after Linette’s departing figure.
Eddie grunted. He’d made a mistake in telling her she’d make a good pioneer wife. He’d given her hope, when he only meant to compliment her. Although, if he was honest, in the heat of the moment, his heart pounding with fear, he’d been glad enough to hold her. No reason she should read more into that than two brave, frightened souls helping each other.
“Take care of—” He didn’t finish. Let Ward figure out for himself what to do. He crossed the bridge and went to the wintering pens. With a practiced glance he checked on the animals till he felt satisfied they were in excellent condition. Come spring he’d begin his new breeding program. In the coming years he expected to see the results in healthy, hardy cattle that brought top dollar. Leaning his arms on the top rail of the fence, he relaxed as he watched the cattle eating the hay he’d insisted the men put up during the hot summer months.
His sense of balance returned and he ambled over to the barn, where Slim worked alone on the harnesses.
“Where’s Ward?”
“Gone to check on his ranch. Said to tell you he’d be gone for a few days. Hoped it was okay.”
“Fine by me.” He joined Slim at the workbench. Eddie relaxed further. Ward would not be sending Linette adoring eyes. Until he returned. In the meantime...
Slim wasn’t much for talking just to hear his voice, so they worked in companionable silence for the most part.
Far too soon it was time to return to the cabin for dinner. If his stomach wasn’t so demanding he would forgo the meal rather than face Linette.
Slim left the barn, paused to look over his shoulder. “Boss, time to eat.”
Eddie nodded and strode for the door. He’d faced floods, snowstorms, angry drunks and attacking wolves. No way would he hesitate to walk into his own cabin because he’d offended Linette. Yet his steps lagged as he headed across the yard. He paused with his hand on the doorknob and listened. All quiet. He sucked in air and opened the door.
The aroma of roast beef greeted him. Along with a smile from Linette. He tried to believe the smile reached her eyes. But she turned away quickly. “It’s right ready. Grady and Cassie, come to the table.”
He shucked off his coat and sat with the others. “A very nice meal,” he offered.
“Thank you. Like I promised, I’m a fast learner.”
He nodded. If he wasn’t mistaken, her voice carried a note of warning. Which he chose to ignore. He’d made himself clear from the beginning and if she refused to listen, well, that was her problem.
He finished his meal and prepared to leave the cabin.
“I’d like to walk with you,” she said as she put on her coat.
“You aren’t asking, are you?”
“How astute of you to notice.”
He looked at Cassie, who poured hot water into the dishpan.
She shrugged.
No sympathy from her.
Linette stepped outside. He closed the door gently behind her. “Where would you like to go?”
She tipped her head toward the big house. “That way is fine.”
They passed the cookhouse. She said nothing. They reached the bottom of the hill. She said nothing. They climbed the snow-covered path. Still nothing.
The roast beef sat heavily in his stomach. Whatever she meant to say, he wished she’d get it done with.
They reached the front doors of the house and she stopped, turned slowly and faced him, her eyes burning like hot embers.
“Do not think you can toss me off on some poor unsuspecting cowboy. My father would have no regard for such a marriage. He would send his henchmen to drag me home.”
“What about the convent?” He knew before he spoke the words how she’d react.
Her look practically scalded him. “I came West to start a life free of artificial restrictions. I mean to get it.”
He leaned closer, not giving her fury any quarter. “Miss Edwards, I told you from the beginning I mean to marry Margaret. So how, pray tell me, do you intend to live this life?”
“I will find a way.” She spat the words out like bitter seeds. Then the fight left her. She shifted as if to hide the fact from him and looked at the far mountains.
“Linette.” He touched her arm. “You’ll make someone a fine wife. A fine pioneer wife.”
She blinked, brought her gaze back to him. “Someone like Ward, you mean?”
He began to nod then changed his mind. It was exactly what he meant. But he couldn’t say it. He didn’t want to upset her further. But something more than concern about her reaction stopped him. He would not give it a name.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. Though for the life of him he couldn’t say what he was sorry for. He swung his attention to the house. “Did you want to come in?”
“I don’t think so, thanks. I plan to spend the afternoon with Cookie.” She sauntered down the hill and into the cookhouse without so much as a backward look.
He jerked about. It wasn’t as if it mattered what she thought. Only he hoped—What? What could he hope for? He toured the house, reminding himself of all the plans he and his father had discussed. Tried to forget the eagerness Linette showed for certain rooms. How she meant to use the extra rooms to help those in need. He came to a halt in the room that would be the family parlor. The room where Linette had exclaimed over the view and helped him put up trim. Where she’d pointed out the good job he’d done and likened it to him being an honorable man.
He tossed aside the piece of wood that he held, having no idea when he’d picked it up or why. She saw him as an honorable man but he’d acted like a scoundrel trying to force her into Ward’s sphere.
All because she had succeeded in making him confess she was a pioneer woman. And in the confessing, he’d allowed himself to see her working side by side with him, building a new life in a new world.
In effect, he’d punished her for his own wayward thoughts.
He meant to make up for it. But how?
Linette liked pretty things. She liked color. All part of her artistic nature. If he thought the store in Edendale would have artist’s paints, he’d ride into town and purchase some for Linette. But so far as he could recall, the shelves had only necessary supplies.
Surely among his books to be shipped there’d be one or more that she’d enjoy. But they wouldn’t be arriving until spring.
Except he had a box he’d never opened because he didn’t have room or need for anything more in the little cabin. A box his mother had packed to help him set up housekeeping.
Eddie jogged down the hill, past the cookhouse, kept his gaze from the cabin and went to the storage shed. The crate stood in the far corner. He pried the lid up and began to pull out items. Some pretty dishes and an assortment of table linens. No doubt Linette would enjoy the whole lot, but there was hardly room for them in the tiny kitchen. He dug farther. Miniature portraits of his parents. He set those aside. They belonged in the big house, not in the log cabin. He lifted a fine woolen blanket and wondered if the ladies had need of it. When he saw what lay beneath it he laughed. Mother’s dancing lady. A porcelain figurine of a woman in a swirling pink gown holding a china rose to her nose.
Eddie held the figurine in his hands. It was one of his mother’s most prized possessions. She’d had it since before she married Randolph Gardiner. Why had she sent it with Eddie?
Memories of his mother and other family members filled him with loneliness. Sighing, he turned the dancing lady over. He studied the bottom as if hoping for clues as to why his mother had sent it.
Nothing but the name of the manufacturer.
He sat back on his heels. She’d never said where she got it. He’d always assumed it was a gift from someone. But if from her parents or a friend, wouldn’t she have said so?
That left one possibility he’d never considered.
His real father had given her this. He almost dropped the figurine. Who was the man? Eddie would never know because his mother refused to discuss it. She must have endured so much shame and ostracism until Randolph Gardiner married her. His position in society forbade anyone from treating her, or Eddie, poorly.
He owed his father a great deal. There was one way to repay the kindness—fulfill his father’s expectations.
Deciding the figurine belonged in the big house next to the likenesses of his mother and father, he set it aside and dug deeper.
A china teapot. Plain brown but so much superior to the tin pot they’d been using. He returned everything else, nailed the lid down again and headed for the cabin.
Since her return to the cabin Linette had renewed her plan to make herself invaluable to Eddie. She’d already tried everything she could think of—learning to make meals, helping at the house. She’d even helped fight off wolves. How much more could she do? Learn to make bread, but she knew it would not influence his thoughts any more than the cookies and biscuits and roast beef had.
The door opened and Linette glanced up. Her heart caught on its next beat.
Eddie! Had he changed his mind?
“I brought you something.” He held out a china teapot.
“A Brown Betty teapot!” Cassie sprang to her feet and set the kettle to boil. “Finally. Some decent tea.”
Wild hope rushed through Linette. Surely this meant something more than tea without the tinny taste. “Thank you, Eddie. Where did you find it?”
“There’s a crate of things out in the shed. Thought I’d poke through it and see if there was anything we could use.”
We? He’d been thinking of them. Her hope settled in to stay.
He put the pot on the table and leaned back on his heels, grinning as if all was right with his world.
She smiled back, feeling as if her world returned to balance.
Their look went on and on until Cassie grabbed the teapot from under Linette’s elbow. “I am going to enjoy a cup of tea.” She paused and gave Linette and Eddie a serious look. “If no one has any objections.”
Linette jerked away to stare at the stove. “I’m going to try making bread again. This time I’m going to succeed.”
“I’m sure you shall.” He sounded so confident she stole another look at him.
His smile faltered. “I was afraid I was rude earlier today, so I—” He pointed toward the teapot and shrugged.
“You brought a gift.”
He nodded, then with a wry smile shook his head. “My way of apologizing.”
“Apology accepted.” Surely her voice didn’t quiver, but she feared it did.
“Tea is ready. Who cares for some?” Cassie asked, handing them each a cupful.
The three of them pulled chairs around the stove as Grady played with his growing assortment of toys. No one seemed impatient about supper. Linette certainly wasn’t. This bit of kindness and concern filled her heart with hope.
And something more that she wasn’t prepared to look at too closely for fear she would be alarmed at what she saw. A growing fondness for the man.
Eddie finished his tea and strode the three steps to the window, peered out then turned. “Linette, would you like to go for a walk?”
She’d been staring at the mixing bowl she’d used for the failed bread dough, wondering what she’d done wrong. She’d asked Cookie to explain the procedure again and still could not understand where she’d veered from the woman’s instructions. She gladly pushed the task aside and grabbed her coat to join Eddie.
They walked past the barn, past the wintering pens as he explained the advantages of the cows he’d chosen, the way he fed them and a bunch of things that had never before mattered to Linette but now seemed the most important information on the face of the earth. They climbed the rough trail beyond the pens. He took her hand to guide her over the rocky path. They came to a grove of dark pines where they stood with the sun on their cheeks.
Still hand in hand, they watched a raven rise from the trees, squawking at the intrusion.
“Every time I came up here during the summer, if I sat real quiet, I could watch a deer and twin fawns,” he told her. “They tiptoed from the trees to nibble at the grass.”
“Maybe I’ll get a chance to see them in the spring.”
He faced her, an inscrutable expression on his face. Was he imagining her at his side throughout the changing seasons? The thought strengthened her resolve. She would, with God’s help, prove her value to Eddie’s plans. She intended to tell him so, but before she could say anything, he spoke.
“I need to help the boys repair a fence the bulls broke down, but I thought you might enjoy seeing this place.” He dropped her hand and led the way back down the hill then strode off, leaving her at the cabin staring after him.
Why had the walk ended so abruptly? It was as if he regretted taking her there. Or perhaps he regretted taking her hand to assist her? Or...dare she hope he was beginning to see how suited they were to one another and the thought frightened him?
She clung to the notion as she returned to the cabin. Perhaps all her efforts were bearing fruit. A smile curved her mouth. By spring he’d be rejoicing over her presence rather than fighting it.
“I’m going to work on the house,” Eddie announced the next day as he pushed from the breakfast table. “I could use a hand measuring the baseboards.”
Her heart took off like a horse freed from a pen. Her eyes jerked toward him. He had asked her to accompany him. Surely that meant he had changed his mind about her. She calmed her racing heart. “I could help.”
“You might want to bring your sketchbook.”
She couldn’t force her eyes away. Her father had scoffed at her art as useless. But Eddie seemed to appreciate her drawings. Even his comments made her realize he understood the emotions she tried to capture. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop pleasure from blossoming in her heart at his approval.
“The sun is shining. The mountains glisten with fresh snow,” he said. “Might make a good picture.”
He wanted her to capture the sight? She certainly itched to see the view and draw it. But even more, she anticipated discovering what this change in him meant.
Cassie reached for her coat and handed Grady his. “I’ll take the boy with me to see Cookie.”
The interruption enabled Linette to break from Eddie’s gaze. She sucked in air as if she’d forgotten to breathe. “I’ll get my things.” She rushed to the bedroom where she kept her supplies, but at the trunk she hesitated. She wanted to prove to Eddie how capable she was. He’d seen her failure at baking bread. Did he also need to see how she wasted her time drawing pictures? Though her skill wasn’t entirely wasted. She’d copied the sketch of Dorothy Farris for Grady and been pleased at the boy’s pleasure.
But she’d done that in her spare time while Eddie was away. Now she needed to prove she had some practical value on the ranch and she returned to the other room without the sketchbook.
Cassie and Grady had left.
“Couldn’t find it?” Eddie asked.
“What?” As if she didn’t know what he meant.
“The book you draw in.”
She shrugged. “It’s only something I do when there’s no work to be done.”
He pinned her with his dark gaze. “Are you refusing to draw a picture because I requested it?”
She shook her head. “That’s not why.”
“Then would you mind drawing a picture of the mountains for me?”
To refuse would be churlish. She returned to the bedroom and scooped up the sketchbook and her pencils then followed Eddie up the hill. She went immediately to the window while he built a fire in the round-bellied stove in the room that would serve as the family dining room and parlor. “Oh.” The word escaped her. “Beautiful. I can see why you want to capture the sight. But there is no way I could do it justice in black and white.” How she itched to pull out her canvases and oils. But she wondered if crowding the cabin would give Eddie the impression she didn’t put proper value on the comfort of others.
“My mind can fill in the details.” He joined her at the window.
She simply stared at the view as they waited for the fire to drive the cold from the room. Oh, how she loved this room. She wanted to be a part of this house, a part of this ranch, a part of this land. She wanted to be part—
She silently commanded her thoughts to stop. She did not want to be part of this man’s affections. She would not give up control of her heart. Not even to belong here. She would, instead, prove her value as a woman who contributed. “I’m ready to get to work.”
His gaze went to the sketchbook on the window ledge.
Her gaze went to the stack of wood next to the wall. “I’ll give you a hand with those first.”
He looked about to argue then nodded. “If you wish.”
For two hours she helped him measure, cut and nail the boards in place. While she worked she had no trouble keeping her thoughts in place except when her glance went to the window and she watched the changing face of the magnificent Rockies.
He cut another board, but rather than nail it, he straightened. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
She stared after him as he disappeared into the kitchen area.
A few minutes later he returned with a wingback chair and put it before the windows.
She gaped at the chair. It was green. Exactly as it had been in her imaginings.
“I’m done until you do what you promised.” His words jerked her back to his request.
“I don’t recall making any promises.” Not out loud to him.
“A drawing of the mountains.” He indicated she should sit.
She hesitated but only out of caution. Her insides burned to capture the sight. Giving in to her yearning, she dropped to the chair, pulled her sketch pad to her lap and started to work.
Peripherally she heard Eddie leave the room and return with a second chair matching hers. He parked it close to hers, facing the window, and sat quietly at her side as she worked. But her attention and imagination were on the scene before her. The lines flowed from her mind to the paper. The ruggedness of the mountains, the contrast between the snow and dark green pines, the neatness of the red farm buildings.
After a while her neck ached and she straightened and looked around. “How long have I been drawing?”
Eddie grinned. “More than an hour, I expect.”
She groaned. “I didn’t mean to waste your time or mine.”
“Let’s see the finished product.” He reached for the sketch pad.
“It’s only rough.”
He studied it. “This is not a waste of time. May I have it?”
“Of course.”
He carefully tore the page from the pad. “I’d like to frame it and hang it in this room.” He tried to close the pad. The pages stuck. He turned them one by one. And stopped to stare.
She stifled a groan. She hadn’t meant for him to ever see the drawing of him confidently riding his horse.
“This is me. I look like...a cowboy.”
She laughed as much from relief as amusement. He hadn’t seen anything extraordinary in her depiction of him. But even at the time she’d struggled to see him as only a means to an end—a way to gain escape from her father’s plans. Not as a strong, handsome, trustworthy, noble man. She jammed a log in the flood of his admirable qualities rushing to her mind. “Don’t you think of yourself as a cowboy? A good cowboy, from what the men say about you.”
“I ride because my tasks require it. Sure, I enjoy it, but that’s not uppermost in my mind.” He glanced about the room. “Just as I enjoy working on this house, but I don’t do it for that reason.”
She thought she understood his reason—build a house that would win Margaret’s favor. The pleasure she’d enjoyed as she sketched fluttered like a dead moth. Did she stand a chance against such devotion? How could she possibly hope to get him to change his mind?
He went on as if talking to himself. “It’s a job entrusted to me by my father and I am determined to prove I can handle the responsibility. Prove, I suppose, I am equal to the task. That my father was right in assigning it to me.”
“You feel the need to prove yourself to your father? Yet he must trust you a great deal to send you over here with the responsibility of finding land, purchasing a huge herd of cows and building a house that would make anyone proud.”
“It’s more of a test than a sign of trust.”
She thought it was an odd answer. “What sort of test would that be?”
He made a deep-throated sound. “To see if I’m fit to be a Gardiner.”
She shifted so she could study his expression. His smile was mocking, as if he’d said more than he meant to or perhaps regretted sounding so hurt. But the look in his eyes spoke volumes. She knew—just knew—his words revealed a lifetime of doubt and striving. She held his gaze as the knowledge slid sideways into her heart and burned a raw path. “Why do you need to prove such a thing?” Her words scalded her throat.
“Because I am not a Gardiner.”
“But your name—it is Eddie Gardiner. Yes?”
His smile tipped to one side. His eyes darkened. “I was born before my mother married my father. My real father was not in the picture. My mother has never revealed one detail of how I came to be. She said that part of her life ended when she married Randolph Gardiner and it was up to me to make sure he never regretted taking me as his son.” He seemed to do his best to smile widely, but she read in the set of his lips a world of wondering if he’d truly been accepted.
She curled her fingers into her palms to stop herself from reaching for him. Her circumstances were vastly different. She was her father’s biological daughter. Never once had she doubted her value in his world. As a commodity. A business advantage. A bargaining chip. She knew she wasn’t valued for who she was or what she wanted. This trip to Canada had been her first victory.
Her nails dug into the heels of her hands. Never would she give up the freedom she’d won. Never would she give up the independence she’d struggled so hard to win. But Eddie’s unspoken pain beat relentlessly at her thoughts. He ached from not feeling totally accepted. She understood he would not acknowledge it. Never admit anything more than a commitment to live up to Mr. Gardiner’s expectations. “I expect he is pleased with how well you’ve done.” She glanced around the room to silently emphasize his success.
He shrugged. His gesture seemed to indicate more defeat than indifference. He glanced about the room and then turned to look out the window. “Father does not understand how different things are out here. How I must make decisions based on the circumstances of the moment. Anything I do that differs from his plans is under suspicion.”
She turned the idea over in her mind, finding that it scratched at her insides. “How much has he planned for you?”
His laugh was short. “Every detail he could think of, because he doesn’t believe I can handle decisions on my own.”
“Does that include the woman you will marry?”
He refused to meet her look, instead stared steadily out the window.
“Ah. You don’t think I’d pass inspection?” Somehow that didn’t surprise her. Her father could be abrasive and had offended any number of people in his quest to claw his way to the top. Though she wasn’t sure what he hoped was at the top or even where the top was.
Eddie sighed heavily.
She guessed he felt a need to earn the favor he never felt he qualified for. She glanced about the room she had grown to love. “Did he design the house?”
“Certainly. Though I made a few changes to better suit the setting.”
“Like what?”
His grin was genuine. His eyes lit from within as if he spoke from a secret, joy-filled spot.
Her insides mellowed knowing she’d distracted him from worrying about his father’s expectations.
“This room. According to the plans, it should face the other direction, but that would have been a mistake, don’t you think?”
“Indeed. As I’m sure he would agree if he ever saw this view.”
Eddie sobered. “I hope so.” He studied the sketches before him as if they held some dark secret. “I have been entrusted with a job. I intend to do my best. I aim to honor my father for giving me his name and a family. I pray it will honor and please God as well.”
She waited, but he didn’t look up from his contemplation of the drawings. His commitment to his family and God was noble and honorable. “I think your father would be proud of all you’ve done.”
He stared at her drawing of him on horseback. Then with a deep sigh he set the sketches aside and jumped to his feet. “Enough of this. It’s time for lunch.”
When he reached for her hand, she didn’t refuse. Whatever his father required of him, the older man was far away, restricted to reports by mail. She said so to him and he laughed.
“Maybe so, but I can’t help feeling he’s watching over my shoulder.”