“If you punch that dough any harder, you’ll knock the yeast out of it.”
Tori ignored her cousin’s light tone as she gave the sourdough another sharp jab. “I’m almost done.”
“And moody to top it off, from the sound of your tone.”
She sent Opal a glare, but the look seemed to slide right off her cousin. “What has you so perky today?”
“You mean besides the fact that it’s a beautiful day, the snow is melting, I just played a game of hide-n-seek with Katie, and not even your pining is going to steal my joy?”
“I’m not pining. What would I be pining for?” Although longing could be an apt description of the ache that had taken up residence in her chest.
It’d been three days since she refused Ezra’s proposal. Three days since the long wagon ride where he’d sat in stoic silence beside her. Not once had he come by since then. He’d not come to check on them nor said when he’d head out on another trip to look for work for them.
Although, maybe he’d decided to stop the search. He did, after all, have a life of his own, with plenty of work to do—the stages and telegraph and all the animals around the place. She wouldn’t blame him if he decided their battles weren’t his to fight any longer.
Especially after she’d thrown all his kindnesses back in his face. But what choice did she have? She couldn’t possibly marry, not even a man as good as Ezra Reid. And where would that leave Opal? Other than nicely settled in the extra bed chamber in the little house.
But what if Opal’s father came to look for them? If they needed to run, she couldn’t do so tied to a man. And it wasn’t fair to uproot Ezra’s life like that.
She’d already disturbed it enough.
She and Opal should just leave on their own, maybe rent horses from Mr. English and head west. Although perhaps that would be dangerous. They might do better to catch the westbound stage for a few days until they found better prospects.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Opal’s words pulled her from her mental wandering, and she forced her voice to relax. “I’m thinking it’s time for us to move on. Maybe we should take the stage tomorrow and see if we can find work farther west. Maybe even go all the way to California.”
She could feel Opal’s gaze on her, and she looked up to meet her curious blue eyes.
“What makes you want to do that?”
What, indeed. She shrugged. “I just feel like we’re an inconvenience here. I don’t want to intrude on Ezra’s good will any longer.”
Her cousin was studying her with that intensity that could see through to Tori’s every thought. She looked down at the bread dough she’d been fingering, rolling tiny balls between her fingers. She’d have it so mutilated soon, the dough would never rise.
“That feels a little like running, doesn’t it?”
Tori sighed. “We’re not running again. Not really. I just…there’s not really a place for us here, and I don’t want to cause any more trouble.”
After another moment, Opal released a matching sigh. “All right. Are you going to tell Ezra?”
She swallowed. “Not until we’re ready to board the stage.”
“When will you tell Mara?” Opal always did have a knack for asking the tough questions in her quiet way.
“I suppose I’ll tell her tonight. She’ll probably be relieved, although she’ll miss your help in the kitchen.”
“Opal and I are planning to leave on the westbound stage tomorrow.” Tori studied Mara’s reaction over the mending in her lap. The other woman’s face lost all color. Just like it usually did before she scurried outside to lose her breakfast.
“You can’t.”
Tori rested the trousers with the gaping knee in her lap. “I think we need to. It’ll be best.”
But Mara was already shaking her head. “No, it won’t. You two coming was the best thing that’s happened to Ezra, and I’m not sure I can do without you either.” She rested a hand on her flat midsection. “Besides, Ezra won’t be back for a couple more days. You need to at least wait and see what he’s found.”
She eyed the woman. “Back from where?”
“He’s gone south this time to look for work for you both.”
Tori’s senses sprang to alert. “Why didn’t he say something? When did he leave?” Why hadn’t he asked them to take care of things at the stage stop?
“He left this morning.”
“What?” She laid the mending back in the basket. “Who’s manning the telegraph? And the stages?” She glanced out the window but knew she wouldn’t see anything in the darkness of late evening. “I’ll pack my things and ride over there tonight.”
“Relax, Tori. Josiah’s been taking care of the place today. He took his training horses over there to work them, so he could be on hand for the stages. And he fed the animals before he came home tonight.”
Her mind swam through all the other chores and responsibilities on the place. “But what about the telegraph? You said Josiah hasn’t learned the code.” And what if Indians attacked the place again? They could steal all the animals and burn down the buildings with no one to stop them.
And why hadn’t Ezra come to tell her? It was only right that she and Opal take care of the station while he sought work on their behalf. In fact, doing her part was the only way she could rest easy letting him take on so much for her.
And why would he continue to help after she’d denied his proposal so adamantly? Not even Ezra could be so altruistic, could he? Did he think he would sway her into changing her answer? Men just didn’t do this much to help another person—especially a woman, or two women—without expecting some kind of return for their efforts.
She studied Mara’s face. “Why is he doing this?”
The other woman looked at her, head cocked as though trying to figure why Tori had to ask. “Because he wants to help.” Her lips pressed together, and she dropped her gaze to the tiny baby gown she’d been hemming. “My little brother’s always had a soft spot for anyone he can help. If he feels there’s been an injustice done, he’s the first to step in and make it right.”
Was that what he thought had happened with them? He was right. And maybe that did explain his drive to help them get settled. But could any man really be that noble?
If it were possible for a man to possess that much chivalry, Ezra Reid just might.
Ezra rode into the quiet town as dusk settled over the landscape. The neat rows of buildings lining the road were tucked like diverse packages, nestled in a line. One side of the street even sported a boardwalk part of the way. He’d not roamed this far west before, almost to the far edge of the base of the Rocky Mountains, so this hamlet had offered a pleasant surprise.
He reined his gelding to a stop in front of a blue, two-story building labeled as Shumeister Boarding and Bakery. Both notions sounded heavenly right now, since he’d slept under the stars the night before and had been eating dried tidbits from his saddle pack all day.
He swung down from his horse and bit back a groan as the action pulled at the muscles in his sore arm. That measly gunshot wound should have healed by now. At least, it shouldn’t have still been shooting fire through his arm every time he used it. Of course, all his joints and muscles ached, which meant he was letting the long days in the saddle affect him more than he should. After tying his horse to the rail, he stepped onto the wooden walk and rapped his knuckles on the door.
From inside, a woman’s voice sounded, along with the tapping of shoes on a wooden floor. He removed his hat and waited as the door swung open.
“Yes?” A lady peered up at him, short and stocky with a kind face and long gray hair pulled into a knot on the top of her head.
“Your sign says you might have a room to let for the night?”
“Ja. Come with me.” Her voice was thick with some kind of accent. German? Norwegian? He should have expected it from the name Shumeister.
He followed the woman into a decent-sized dining room, where she bent over a desk in the corner, opening and closing drawers. “How long you stay?” Tantalizing smells emanated from an open doorway that must have been the kitchen, and his stomach tightened in a noisy grumble.
“Just tonight. Do you serve dinner, too?”
“Ja. In half an hour. And breakfast will be ready at first light.” She slammed the last drawer and straightened. “I show your room.”
She had an efficient, almost brusque manner, yet something about her face held a kind honesty. She led him up the stairs, but she’d not made it up half a dozen before she slowed to catch her breath.
He treaded slowly behind her. Her steady puffs grew louder with each step, and they’d only made it partway. “If you just want to tell me which room is mine, I’ll find it. You don’t have to show me.”
A grunt was her only response, and she kept climbing the stairs. Ezra stayed close in case he’d need to catch the woman when she swooned from lack of breath. Her robust form must not allow for much circulation through her airways.
At last, they reached the upper level, and she led him to a neat room, better situated than any he’d stayed in since they’d moved out west. Blue calico curtains hung from the windows, matching one of the colors in the quilt spread across the bed. There was even a dresser that held a washbasin and pitcher.
“I fill water this morning.” She motioned toward the pieces. “I call to eat when ready.”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
She turned and gave him a final perusal, scanning him from his mussed hair down his grubby clothes to the tips of his dusty boots. He did his best not to back down from her look, but he must appear like something the dog dragged in.
She gave a decisive nod, then turned and waddled down the stairs.
At dinner, he met Mr. Shumeister as well as the doctor who kept a permanent room in the place.
“What brings you to our little town, Reid?” The doctor was an older fellow with plenty of salt mixed in with his black hair and beard.
“I’m seeking work for friends.” He shifted his gaze between the two men as he spoke. “Two ladies who’ve recently come west are looking for positions appropriate for their gender.” He spoke the last words in a way his meaning couldn’t be misconstrued. “They’re happy to work as cooks or seamstresses or clerks. In fact, one of them is becoming quite adept as a telegraph operator.”
The doctor’s gaze took on a faraway look as he chewed his food. Mr. Shumeister took another bite of his ham and cabbage, not even glancing Ezra’s way. He was a thin man with hair so blonde it was hard to tell how much was gray. His lined face kept a somber look, although that might be an effect from the mustache that drooped on either side of his mouth. The soft way he’d gazed at his wife as she brought a plate of sourdough bread from the kitchen had spoken well of the man’s temperament. Any fellow who showed love for his wife usually possessed a good streak.
“You say the women cook. They bake, too, ja?” Mr. Shumeister’s accent was almost as strong as his wife’s.
Ezra nodded. “Yes.” He hated to commit them to too much, but he’d tasted the pie Miss Opal made at Mara’s one evening and could vouch for their baking skills.
The man glanced toward the kitchen, from whence occasional cooking sounds drifted. Then he looked back at Ezra and gave a curt nod. “We put them to work. Room and board, plus a dollar a week for each. They help my Aggie.” Then he scooped a fork full of ham and stuffed it in his mouth.
Ezra sat back in his chair, eyeing the man. “You have enough work for them both?” With only one regular boarder, how could they afford to feed themselves, let alone two more women?
The blonde man glanced up at him, a twinkle touching his eye for the first time. “My wife, she bake for the town. Too much for only her.”
Ezra let the idea develop in his mind through the rest of the meal. Could he picture Tori and Opal here? Maybe. The place was clean, the house well-built and obviously cared for. Mrs. Shumeister seemed like a hard worker and was certainly a good cook, as proven by the meal that both her husband and the doctor were presently scarfing down. And there was even a physician on the premises, in case either of them took sick.
He glanced at each of the men. Neither looked to be lecherous—more fatherly than anything.
He bit into his bread and forced himself to chew. This may be just the place he sought, yet how could he send the women so far away? Almost two days’ ride from the Rocky Ridge. That would mean he might not see Tori again for months. Or years. Or never.
Yet, maybe that was best. She’d made it clear she held no romantic notions for him, made it clear she didn’t plan to marry. Ever. So it was past time he squelch the affection that had grown too rapidly in his own chest. Ever since he’d had that blasted thought of marrying her, she’d taken over his thoughts more with every hour.
Maybe two days’ ride would be just enough distance to purge her from his mind. And keep her out of his heart.