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A Doll’s House enthralled Annalee. She never once took her eyes from the stage. The main character, Nora, was married with children, and hungry to do additional things with her life. She loved her family but searched for ways to enrich her future further.
It spoke to Annalee in that she was also on the cusp of doing something new, something different. She was going to have to be courageous.
On the walk back to the hotel, she chatted non-stop about the show, and Ewan appeared to be listening attentively. Which warmed and charmed her even more. If not for the tingles Ewan caused to fly over her skin just by being near her, she would call the evening perfect.
How she wished she wasn’t affected by him so much, but his handsomeness was too raw and masculine to ignore. She was only a woman and not impervious.
When they reached the lobby, Ewan continued on with her, bypassing the restaurant where Mr. Vaughn and Mr. Wilton had invited him to after the play. They’d wanted to drink the remainder of the night away; they’d declared jovially during intermission. Ewan hadn’t accepted or rejected their request.
As they climbed the stairs together, Annalee’s anxiety began to increase. She’d never been at her door with a man at the end of a night on the town. She’d heard that sometimes there was a goodnight kiss after such an evening.
But why would he do that? They weren’t courting. This outing had been orchestrated by her father.
However, that didn’t stop her from imagining the scene. Her mind played out what Ewan might say, what he might do. She could feel his fingers trail along her jaw line, and her heart squeezed in longing.
Oh, good gracious! She wanted him to kiss her.
Her pulse began to race, and her stomach was tied in knots. Oh, heavenly days! Where was her head?
“I’m glad you had fun,” he said in low tones. “I enjoyed it myself.”
“Did you?” she replied, forcing the squeak of nervousness from her tone.
“Sure. Especially since I wasn’t required to make small talk with anyone.” His tone held a vein of laughter.
She let out a breath, wishing she could be as easy with him as he was with her. He didn’t seem affected by her at all. “We didn’t get much opportunity to practice, did we?”
“Vaughn and Wilton lassoed our conversation and didn’t let it go, huh?”
They turned left and started down the corridor on the second floor. “They’re adamant that breeding my longhorns with their angus will be successful. I’m not sure why they’re so interested in my stock.”
“Your pa had a reputation for the healthiest herds. We’ve rarely had sickness take any of them.”
Yes, she was aware. She looked ahead and saw they were approaching the door to her room. Her heart leapt into her throat. Surely, there wouldn’t be any awkwardness. Certainly, he wouldn’t have a look about him that suggested he wanted to kiss her.
Because if he did, and if he tried, she was going to let him. And that just couldn’t happen.
“Here we are,” she announced in a too bright tone.
“Get some rest,” he told her as she removed her hand from the crook of his elbow. “We’ll leave bright and early. It’ll take two days to get to Luling.”
She busied herself with finding her key in her purse. “I’ll be ready. Shall we meet in the restaurant for breakfast or,” she found the key and inserted it, “did you just want to eat on the trail?”
“It’ll be better if we eat in the saddle, if that’s all right.”
“That’s just fine.” She unlocked the door and pushed it open. She looked up at him and gave him a smile. “Thank you for an enjoyable evening.”
“It was fun.” His expression held nothing more than ease and politeness. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Yes, goodnight.”
He gave her a lazy salute, then she entered and shut the door.
As she sagged against the panel with her hand still on the knob, she heard his muffled steps carrying him away.
Well...he hadn’t looked at all like he’d wanted to kiss her. In fact, she doubted he’d even seen her as a man sees a woman.
Her heart sank to her stomach.
* * * *
“ALREADY OFF?” MR. VAUGHN asked Annalee as she stood with Epona outside the livery.
“Yes, we have to get to Luling.”
“Judge told us your pa is sending you on a little jaunt up the Chisholm.” Mr. Vaughn tipped his hat back and smiled beneath his handlebar mustache. “Hope you enjoy it.”
“I’m sure I will.”
“Have you thought more about our conversation?” he asked her, hooking his thumbs in his vest pockets.
She glanced toward the inside of the livery where Ewan was concluding their business with the owner. “A little. I confess I can’t put my mind to it until I’m home.”
“That’s fair.” Mr. Vaughn jerked his chin toward the entrance to the stables. “We said more to your foreman last night.”
“Oh?” She furrowed her brow. “When?”
“He met us for drinks after he got you settled. We had a good time.”
Uncertainty washed through her. “I didn’t realize that he’d gone ahead and met y’all.”
Mr. Vaughn held out a placating hand. “Don’t fret, Miss Gillespie. Judge never once undermined you. He just listened.”
And as quickly as it had come, her unease fled.
“Of course, Wilton offered him a job more than once,” Mr. Vaughn revealed with a grin. “You might be careful, Miss Gillespie. I’m thinkin’ my neighbor might’ve made too tempting an offer.”
And just like that, her world came crashing down. She gritted her teeth against the hurt and worry gathering inside her. “Ewan has been with us for ten years. I highly doubt Mr. Wilton is going to be successful.”
Mr. Vaughn shrugged. “A man’s got to go where the greatest success will be. It’s the way of things. Loyalty is all well and good, but if there’s no possibility to further oneself, why stay?”
His point resonated with Annalee, and she couldn’t fault Ewan if he was considering leaving. She supposed more money was one way to measure success, but to her mind, family was more important. And while she and Ewan had always had a tumultuous relationship, he was beloved by everyone else.
Before she could respond to Mr. Vaughn, Ewan appeared leading Red and the mule.
His brow lifted when he saw Mr. Vaughn. “Are y’all leavin’ now also?”
“Yep. But we took the stage. Got our women with us, you know.” Mr. Vaughn moved away from Annalee to shake Ewan’s hand in goodbye.
“Oh, sure. Well, safe travels.”
“And to you, as well.” Mr. Vaughn turned to Annalee and tipped his hat. “Ma’am.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Vaughn.” As she watched him stroll away, she tried to control the anxiety still swirling in her stomach despite the logic of his argument. Should she offer Ewan more money?
“You ready?”
Ewan’s question distracted her, and she whipped her head in his direction. He was seated on top of Red, looking down at her with an open, easy expression.
She swallowed, then said, “Yes, of course.” She mounted up. “Lead the way.”
They kicked their horses into a canter and were soon on the trail heading north.
* * * *
THAT EVENING THEY MADE camp near a lake shrouded by cypress, oak, and dwarf palmetto trees. After preparing and eating a supper of biscuits, beans, and bacon, she washed the dishes in the water. The sun was lowering behind the trees, turning the sky glorious shades of pink and purple.
She put the clean dishes on a linen towel she’d spread on the soft grass and enjoyed the beauty surrounding her as she worked. Sunset was always her favorite time. The still of the evening, the peace, reached deep into her and soothed her soul. The back porch of her home also afforded her a perfect view, and she often ended her night there.
It was where she and her mother had had so many talks, where she snapped beans and shelled peas with Delly, and where she went when she needed a moment with God. Seeing the colors now, intermixed with the green of the trees, refreshed and renewed her spirit.
When she finished the dishes, she wrapped the ends of the towel around the tin, then stood with the bundle in hand. She carried everything back to camp, then slipped the plates and forks into the one of the bags leaning against her tent. She tied the cast iron pan to the outside, then pushed to her feet.
She drifted toward the fire where Ewan rested with his back against the trunk of a Live Oak. His Stetson rested in the grass next to him, and he’d unbuttoned the top three buttons of his blue chambray shirt. He gave her a soft smile. “All done?”
“Yes.” She sank to the ground, stretching her legs out in front of her, and after swiping some grass off her brown, twill cotton skirt, she leaned back on the heels of her hands. “It’s beautiful here.”
He nodded slowly, scanning their surroundings. “That’s another thing to miss about long cattle drives. The changing scenery. The Texas landscape is beautiful, and...varied.”
“Papa loved it. So did Mama. You know she wrote poetry about nature? I have a whole book of her poems.” A precious memory popped into her mind and she grinned. “You know, Ramsey wrote, too.”
At that, Ewan let a quick chuckle. “Don’t believe it. Your brother wouldn’t put pen to paper even if it meant his words would turn to gold.”
She laughed. “Oh, yes, he did. I found his poems. He’d left them in the front parlor, and I was half-way through reading them when he caught me.”
Ewan quirked an eyebrow at her. “Still don’t believe it.”
With an emphatic nod, she said, “They were short. Two-line to four-line stanzas that—”
Ewan’s brows lifted. “Oh, you’re talking about his songs.”
She paused, confused. “What do you mean?” she asked after a second.
“He got tired of the songs we’d sing to the cattle, so he started writing his own.” Ewan shrugged. “Said “Barbara Allen” was too sad, and “Aura Lee” made him tired. So he took to writing his own.”
“I didn’t know that.” She was pleasantly surprised and began trying to recall some of what she’d read. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Was there one about a lady crossing a bridge because the man she loved was on the other side?” She looked at Ewan.
He nodded. “Yeah. Beth.”
“Huh. This is interesting. I didn’t know that about Ramsey.” And for the first time in six years, she felt as if her brother was close. A thought occurred and her heart leapt in hope. “Can you sing one of his songs?”
Ewan’s cheeks went red. “Do what?”
“Sing. One of his songs.” She folded her hands and brought them to her chest in hopeful supplication. “Please?”
In a flash, Ewan relented. “All right.” But his face got even redder, and he let out a steadying breath.
She didn’t want to make him nervous, and she drew breath to tell him he didn’t have to, when his voice lifted in a beautiful melody. Her breath caught, and she gripped her fingers more tightly.
The notes of a tale of Beth seeking her true love and building a bridge to get to him were sweet, but it was Ewan’s full baritone that put her into throes of almost rapture. His voice wrapped around her, enthralled her, and made her heart pound.
He held her gaze captive while he sang, never once looking away.
How had she never known? How had...
She swallowed and lowered her hands to her lap. His voice was incredible. He was...
Oh, dear. She couldn’t finish the thought. Couldn’t admit to herself what was growing in her heart. Or, rather, what she’d been ignoring for the past several years.
When he trailed off, ending the song in a way that caressed her skin from head to toe, she had no idea what to say...what to do. She just gazed at him, like a ninny.
He inclined his head toward her and lifted his brow. “What’s wrong? Was it that bad? You can’t talk?”
Slowly, she shook her head. “No, that was...beautiful.” The awe she felt rang in her tone. “I didn’t...” She swallowed. “I didn’t know you could sing like that.”
With a shrug and a bashful expression, he said, “Don’t really advertise it. Ramsey knew, which is why he made me learn all the songs he wrote. He was gonna put them in some kind of book.”
“Was he?” She barely registered what Ewan had said as her pulse still had an erratic beat. This man had hidden talents, and she was even in more danger of losing her heart to him. What was she going to do?
“Yeah,” Ewan continued, “but he never...”
When he couldn’t finish what he’d started to say, Annalee snapped out of the spell Ewan had cast over her. Her brother’s death had hurt him, too. Ewan was only a year older than Ramsey, and they’d spent a lot of time together while herding cattle.
An ache over what they’d lost centered in her breast. So much had happened in the last six years, starting with the death of her brother. “He’d had such a future ahead of him,” she rasped.
“I think about Ramsey,” Ewan said, pulling her from her thoughts. “A lot.”
“Do you?” Her brother’s image appeared in her mind’s eye. In her visions, he was always smiling down at her from the saddle.
“I think about things we did together,” Ewan went on, “and how he was as much a brother to me as anyone. If I had been there when that bull charged, I would have...”
When he couldn’t finish and instead looked out into the distance, she pressed her lips into a thin line. She knew what he was thinking, what he wished, that he wanted to turn back time and change the outcome. Her father had agonized over the same.
After several moments of quiet, she said softly, “It is what it is.”
Ewan looked at her, and in his eyes she saw his sadness, his own hurt at the loss of someone he’d cared about.
“If we,” she began carefully, “spend our days thinking about what could’ve been, then it makes it hard to go forward. And it especially makes it hard to go forward happily.” She shook her head. “Ramsey, and Mama, and Papa wouldn’t want us to spend our weeks and months and years in a fog.”
Ewan swallowed. “I know, but it’s hard knowin’ that your pa didn’t have his son. And that...he had to settle for me.”
She reared back, stunned. “Oh, Ewan, no.” The urge to embrace him came over her, but she didn’t move from her position. “In fact, it’s just the opposite. He was so grateful he had you.”
A pained, sad light shone in Ewan’s gaze.
“I promise,” she assured him earnestly, leaning forward. “He told me on more than one occasion that he couldn’t do anything without you, that he thought of you as his own.”
Ewan was quiet for a moment, seeming to take in what she’d said, then he gave her a soft smile. “Thanks, Annalee.”
She hoped he believed her. He was as much a part of the family as Delly and Scratch, and all the other hands who worked on the ranch. She couldn’t imagine going through life feeling as if you didn’t belong somewhere or to someone.
She wanted to say more, but disquiet and uncertainty held her back.
Silence settled between them, and the crickets’ song rose, distracting her. She realized the sky had darkened, and stars were appearing.
“About time to turn in, huh?” he said.
She looked at him, and his expression was soft with ease, with...gentleness. And it that moment, she realized just how dear his face was to her. She bit her lip and nodded slowly as dismay gripped her.
She was in love with him. Had always been...in love with him.
And he thought of her as nothing more than...Knobs.
* * * *
“ONCE WE ROUND THIS bend, you’ll get your first look,” Ewan told her with a grin as they trotted the remaining mile into Luling.
Eager for a distraction from the upsetting acceptance of her feelings, she craned her neck, searching for the first glimpse of Finch’s Feed. As soon as the sharp bend straightened, she saw a roof that appeared to be the resting place for at least one hundred birds. She gasped. “How does she get them to land on her roof?”
Ewan chuckled. “Those aren’t real. She made all of those.”
Stunned, Annalee reared back in the saddle then looked at him. “You can’t be serious?”
“It’s part of the oddity. Mrs. Finch has made her husband’s store infamous, and people come from miles away. Makes for a lot of business.”
Equal parts astounded and impressed, Annalee turned her attention back to the wooden building. A sign with Finch’s Feed written in big, black letters hung over the entrance. Three steps led one to the door. More handmade finches rested along the crossbars of the railing framing the porch.
Murals of trees littered with finches had been painted along the whitewashed walls, stretching over the sides and curving around to the front. Annalee was enchanted. It was odd but beautiful at the same time.
As soon as they reined to a stop, she slid out of the saddle and hastened up the steps, eager to meet the woman responsible for such uniqueness. Annalee paused on the porch to get a look at the handmade creatures on the porch railing.
She was surprised to see that Mrs. Finch had not used real feathers but had instead used fabric. She’d painted the material to make the bodies look as if they were covered with feathers. Marbles replaced eyes, while twigs had been used for legs.
The woman was quite talented, because while the materials she’d used could be identified, the birds looked very life-like. It was amazing. Excited, Annalee reached for the knob and entered.
Once inside, her eye was dazzled by more murals and handmade birds. She barely noticed the other customers or the varieties of animal feed and other farming supplies lining the shelves stretching down the center of the building.
She left the door open and began to wander, looking at the murals up close. Forest, garden, barn, river all served as backdrops to showcase finches. Had Mrs. Finch painted every scene? If so, she was amazingly talented.
“Can I help you folks?” a male voice asked, interrupting Annalee’s winding walk through the shop.
She turned and discovered Ewan was near the door, with his hand curled around his belt. It appeared he’d been waiting while she’d wandered. How long had she been perusing the murals?
“Howdy,” Ewan replied, taking two steps to the right and moving closer to the man standing behind the counter. “My name’s Ewan Judge, and this is Miss Annalee Gillespie. We’re here—”
“Oh, you’re the folks with the letter.”
“Yes, sir.” Ewan gave him a polite smile. “We were told to come here to fetch it.”
Mr. Finch nodded. “Strangest thing. We got mail from Jack Gillespie, asking us to keep a letter for y’all. Only met the man a few times, but I could tell he was an all right fella. He didn’t come with y’all?”
Annalee bit her lip as a twinge of sorrow pierced her. She made eye contact with Ewan who wore a sympathetic, soft expression.
“Naw, he’s not with us,” he answered for her. “We’re taking a trip, sort of a scavenger hunt, that Mr. Gillespie created.”
The man’s gray brows knit, and he replied, “Huh. Odd thing.” He let out a breath and waved a hand at the interior of his shop. “But then who am I to call somethin’ odd?” He chuckled then shook his head. “My wife’s got your letter. Gillespie asked for her to be the one to hold on to it and to give it to y’all. I’ll get her. She’s in the back.”
Mr. Finch walked to an open doorway that appeared to lead to a storage room, then disappeared inside. Muffled voices could be heard.
Annalee folded her hands and rested them against her black, twill cotton skirt, trying to forget why her father wasn’t at her side. She shared a soft, quiet look with Ewan, easily reading his own sadness.
“You’re here,” a feminine voice sing-songed.
Annalee turned and found an older woman wearing a burnt orange, gingham skirt and a blouse of the same color hurrying toward Annalee.
Mrs. Finch’s round face was wreathed in a smile. A cameo was pinned to the neck of her blouse, and she’d swept her graying auburn hair into a high bun. “Are you Miss Gillespie?”
Before Annalee could answer, the woman went on with, “Of course, you are.” She reached Annalee and took her hands in hers. “Who else would you be? My, you’re just lovely. Just as your father said you would be. And look, Mr. Finch, her green eyes do shine bright. I can see why your father calls you Miss Green Eyes.”
Annalee’s throat instantly went raw with emotion. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Such a fitting nickname. Just like the flower with its green center and yellow petals. So pretty!”
Texas Green Eyes. The wildflower that grew in the fields of Texas had been consistently gathered by Annalee’s father, put into a bouquet and brought to her when he’d come home from a hard day of work. She still had the very first flower he’d ever given her pressed into the pages of her bible. She’d been five-years-old, and he’d picked the single blossom to show her how pretty her eyes were. She swallowed the lump of sadness sitting at the base of her throat. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“I’m sure you’re anxious for your letter,” Mrs. Finch said. “I have it here.” She withdrew an envelope from her skirt pocket and handed it over.
As Annalee took it, she said, “I love what you’ve done to your shop. You’re so talented.”
Mrs. Finch’s eyes shone with pleasure. “Thank you so much. It took some time, and it needs a lot of upkeep. I have to climb onto the roof,” Mrs. Finch linked her arm with Annalee’s and began walking her over to a mural of a gazebo with birds flying in the painted sky above or nesting in the eaves, “and it upsets Mr. Finch to no end, but our pets must be taken care of.”
“Of course.”
“This was my first painting,” Mrs. Finch said, then launched into her story and process.
Annalee listened avidly, glad that the woman was so forthcoming. It was interesting to hear about another’s business ideas, and she didn’t take any bit of it for granted.
Customers came and went as Mrs. Finch showed Annalee every mural and discussed the meticulous process of creating the fake birds. Throughout the half-hour it took, Annalee would check on Ewan. He never appeared irritated while he kept himself off to the side.
“My goodness, I’ve talked your ear off, haven’t I?” Mrs. Finch shook her head at herself.
“Oh, I enjoyed it,” Annalee assured her quickly.
“Aren’t you a dear?” Mrs. Finch said with a smile. “I’m so glad to have met you.”
Annalee was charmed by the woman and replied, “And I, you. I hope we get to talk again some time.”
The woman brightened. “That would be lovely. If you ever find yourself in Luling again, come on by. We’ll have supper.”
As she withdrew her arm from Mrs. Finch, Annalee said, “How kind of you.”
It only took a few moments to say their goodbyes, then she and Ewan were outside. “I’m sorry if that took too long.” She stopped in the yard, only a few feet from where their horses were tethered.
Ewan shrugged. “I’m fine. I didn’t mind.”
Many people would’ve at least been slightly bothered by having to wait, and her heart squeezed with love for him at his show of kindness. She gave him a soft smile, holding his gaze for the briefest of seconds, then she lifted her hand and waggled the letter she was still holding. “Let’s open it up.”
He nodded once.
After withdrawing the paper with its instructions, she read quickly. When she was finished, she asked, “Our next stop is Lockhart?”
“Should be.”
“He says there’s no letter there. We just camp there one night, then we’re supposed to go on to Austin and stay at the Driskill Hotel. He says we can visit the capitol, ride the streetcars, and visit any other place we might like to go.” She folded the letter. “We get to stay two days in Austin if we want.”
“That’ll be a nice rest. I’ve stayed at the Driskill before. It’s quite a hotel.”
“Papa told me, and I begged to see it.” She slipped the paper back into the envelope. “He’s granting me so many wishes.” A sudden thought occurred, and tears pricked her eyes. “Do you think he wanted this for me as a way to find comfort since I would be all alone?”
It was a moment before Ewan said in low tones, “Maybe.” He paused. “But you’re not alone.”
Her breath caught. What did he mean? Did he intend to be, at the very least, a friend to her? The possibility thrilled her clear through, and she fell into his warm, brown eyes, into the care she saw there. Her pulse raced as something rose between them. The silence stretched with an intimacy, a sharing that sent her heart into all sorts of flutters.
He cleared his throat and looked away, as if self-conscious. “Want to go into town and find a place to eat and sleep?”
Why did he seem embarrassed? Had she imagined the feelings between them, or had her own expression made him uneasy? Her heart dropped to her toes, and she rasped, “Yes. That would be fine.”
With no more than a nod, he moved away from her and went toward his horse.
Dismay gripped her, and she followed him.
Well...
She’d always known he didn’t have feelings for her. She was “Knobs” to him. Not a woman. A child with nothing more than elbow, knees, and a clumsy gait. A future with him was hopeless.