When Tilly awoke, she lay for a time with her eyes still closed. If anyone had ever told her she would sleep so well on a bed of fir boughs and blankets, she would not have believed them.
But something had changed. Burma’s breathing was slow and steady, that of deep sleep rather than her previous unconscious state. The shape at her back was different, too. Larger, longer, and more solid than Tuff. An arm had been thrown around her waist and the sound of light snoring vibrated in her ear. She wanted to giggle.
When had Ryan crept into the shelter and laid down with them? She didn’t care. She simply cared that he was there. Despite the circumstances, she suddenly felt at peace.
“Is there a reason I’m lying naked in your arms?” Burma asked in a cracked, husky voice.
Tilly’s eyes shot open. She sent up a silent prayer as her heart bumped a thankful beat.
“I’m saving your life,” she said as calmly as she could. “The least you could do is say ‘thank you’.”
“Yes, but where are my clothes?”
Ryan stirred behind Tilly and mumbled, “Glad to hear you two girls seem to be back to normal.”
“I wouldn’t call this normal.” Burma wriggled and stretched her legs, and then cried out in pain. “Ow, ouch. Oh, my God, what happened to me? And what’s this?”
With her free hand she felt the make-do bandaging that secured her arm against her body.
“You were wet and freezing and had a dislocated shoulder when we found you,” Tilly explained. “Ryan said skin-to-skin is the quickest way to warm a cold body.”
“So why couldn’t I have his skin next to mine?” Burma whined.
“Because he had to do things I couldn’t,” Tilly said sharply. The thought of Burma and Ryan lying naked together sent a surge of jealousy shooting through her. “Like strip your clothes off and then build that fire.”
“If my clothes are wet, what am I going to wear? And what’s this?” Burma put her hand up to the bandana on her head.
“You’re not out of the woods yet, Burma, so keep still,” Tilly advised. “You’ve had a bad crack on the head and might have a concussion. Can you remember what happened?”
“Right from the beginning, or when I fell?”
“Just from when you fell will do.” Tilly had no wish at that moment to hear anything other than the facts.
“I wanted to climb up to the top of the falls. It didn’t seem very far, and I thought it might be easier if I went over the rocks, rather than up the trail. How wrong could I be? They were more slippery than I thought and I got wet, so turned to make my way back and then fell.”
“You were lucky you didn’t drown,” Ryan said brutally. “What on earth possessed you to hike out here in this weather anyway?”
“It was lovely when I set out.” Burma’s voice sounded strained. “How was I supposed to know that it would snow?”
Ryan clambered out of the shelter and stretched before tending the fire. He set another log then turned to the girls. “I’ve sent for reinforcements. Tilly, you get dressed first and then help Burma. I’ll only lend a hand if you need me to.”
How could he have sent for help? Tilly frowned, but then realized that Tuff had gone. Ryan must have sent the dog back to the barn. She shimmied out of the bedroll, thankful for the heat from the fire radiating over her bare skin. Ryan tactfully turned his back and busied himself with a pot set on stones embedded in the embers at one end of the fire. The aroma of fresh, boiling coffee stirred her senses. She dressed quickly, laced up her boots and crawled out from beneath the shelter.
Yesterday’s storm had already passed, leaving the sky as sharp and clear a blue as if someone had beaten it clean on river rocks and hung it out to dry. Already, thawing snow dripped off the trees, pattering softly around her. She stretched and thankfully took the coffee Ryan handed her.
“If you two could stop making eyes at each other, perhaps you could help me.” Burma struggled to sit up and groaned. “Oh, my head. I’m so dizzy and I feel sick.”
Ryan came to her and supported her back. “That’s because you’re concussed. Just sit still, Burma, and try and catch your breath.”
Burma closed her eyes and turned her face into Ryan’s chest. As the pain passed she relaxed in his arms, and then asked about her clothes.
“They aren’t quite dried out yet,” he told her. “I’ve got a dry shirt, pants, and socks right here and you should get into them before the boys arrive.”
“Oh, yes. I’ll just spring to my feet, shall I?”
“There’s the girl I know and love.” Tilly smiled, set her mug down and knelt down beside Burma. “Sarcastic as ever.”
She helped Burma get into Ryan’s shirt, aware that her bound arm would be painful, then helped her stand so that she could step into the pants. Burma swayed as Tilly pulled them up.
“This is so embarrassing,” Burma whispered.
“Better be alive and embarrassed than being carted out of here dead.” Tilly finished buttoning the waistband but, as soon as she let go, the pants slipped down to Burma’s knees. She looked up at Burma’s shocked expression and giggled. “You look ridiculous. Hang on, I’ll pull them up again and you’ll have to hang on to them.” She turned to Ryan. “Have you got a belt?”
“Not a spare, but hang on and I’ll cut a piece of rope.”
Tilly continued to giggle as she threaded the rope Ryan handed her through the belt loops on the pants and tied it in a firm knot. “There. Your dignity shouldn’t suffer too badly now.”
“So how are we getting out of here?” Burma asked as Tilly helped her into a dry jacket.
“You’ll have to ride out from here, but I asked for Billy to bring the wagon as far as he can, so that won’t be too far away.”
Burma sniffed as she looked at the animals still tethered to the line.
“I am not riding that mule,” she announced.
Tilly laughed. “Not good enough for you? Don’t worry, Burma, Molly is my ride. You’ll be riding the pony.”
“That’s nearly as bad.” Burma continued to grumble as she wiggled her toes into the socks Tilly held for her. “What about—”
“No.” Ryan stopped her before she could say anymore. “Grulla is my horse and you are not riding him.”
Tuff’s barking caught their attention and, a moment later, the dog splashed through the creek and ran up to Ryan. He ruffled Tuff’s ears and Tilly cocked her head to one side at the squelching, slopping sound of hooves plowing through the melting snow. She breathed a sigh of relief when Billy and Pete appeared through the trees.
“Nice camp.” Billy looked around as he drew rein and dismounted. “Too bad we didn’t join the party.”
“Some party.” Ryan grinned and shook Billy’s hand. “Thanks for coming out. Good to see you too, Pete. Where’d you come from anyway? I thought you were out for another couple of days.”
Pete nodded. “The weather started to turn, so our guide gave the party the option of staying out or turning back. They wanted to come back. Guess I got in just in the nick of time.”
“That you did.” Ryan glanced at Burma. Even though she was now on her feet, she was still pale and unsteady. He lowered his voice. “We need to get this gal to the hospital as soon as possible. She’s still suffering from a pretty bad concussion, she dislocated her shoulder, and I’m sure her body temperature is still too low.”
“Damn, that’s a heap to deal with,” Pete said. “What do you want us to do?”
“Stay here and strike camp. Where did you leave the wagon?”
Pete hiked his thumb over his shoulder. “There’s a flat spot just a couple of hundred yards downstream. We brought horses ‘cause we didn’t know for sure just how far out you all were.”
Ryan frowned as he planned his next move. “I’ll take the girls to the wagon and get Burma to the hospital. You sent a message to them that we’re bringing her in?”
“Sure did, boss,” Billy said, “and brought the extra blankets you asked for. That darn dog of yours sure made a ruckus when he turned up at the barn and, I must say, he writes a note almost better’n you do.”
“Yeah, right.” Ryan laughed. “Okay, we’ll get Burma aboard Cayuse. Pete, ride to the wagon with us and then you can bring Cayuse back here to help carry the gear.”
Tilly kept Burma out of the way until Cayuse was saddled and ready, but the pain in her shoulder caused her to catch her lip between her teeth. Billy and Ryan waited until the spasm had passed then helped her mount Cayuse. The pony’s ears twitched, but he stayed quite still as she settled herself into the saddle.
“Now you, Tilly.” Ryan boosted her onto Molly’s back. “Come up close on Burma’s left side so you can support her if you have to, and I’ll lead her.”
When he mounted Grulla and moved up on Burma’s right side, Tilly saw just how tall the horse was. It was a sorry party that splashed through the creek. Grulla, anxious to go home, tossed his head and Ryan steadied him.
“Please don’t tell my friends I rode an old pony,” Burma croaked.
Tilly grinned, thankful to hear Burma’s voice. “You can tell them yourself and, if you’re not nice to Cayuse, you can darn well walk.”
“You are so mean.” A moan drifted from Burma’s lips and she whispered, “It hurts, Tilly.”
“I know.” Tilly could only imagine the pain Burma must be suffering and reached across the gap between them to steady her. “It won’t be for much longer, and you’ll be more comfortable in the wagon, I promise.”
When they reached it, Pete and Ryan helped Burma out of the saddle and into the wagon bed. Between them, they settled her in the bedroll and pile of blankets Pete had made ready for her. Ryan had brought some of the hot rocks from the fire in a leather satchel, and now laid these along side of her legs. Tilly scrambled in beside her, grateful for the extra warmth from the stones and the blankets she carried. Pete tethered Molly to the back of the wagon, then swung up onto his own horse, picked up the pony’s reins, and headed back to the camp.
Once he was satisfied that Burma was as comfortable as they could make her, Ryan tethered Grulla to the wagon and climbed up onto the driver’s seat. He picked up the reins and the pair of Belgians hitched to the wagon started forward. As soon as it moved, a tremor of pain pulsed over Burma’s face.
“Hold on, Burma.” Tilly reached under the blankets and gripped her hand. Burma simply nodded and closed her eyes, her nostrils pinched as every bump and jolt sent pain through her, her mouth a straight, tight line to prevent any sound from escaping.
“Cry if you want to,” Tilly whispered. “I won’t tell.”
“I almost don’t care,” Burma muttered. “My head feels worse than it did yesterday, but all of me hurts so much.”
“We’ll be at the hospital soon and they’ll probably give you something for the pain.” Tilly gave Burma’s had a squeeze. “You’re doing great, and just think what a story you’ll have for all your New York friends. ‘Socialite Burma Evans rescued from the wilds of Banff’ will be the talk of the town.”
“There should have been a bear.” Burma tried to laugh. “Much more dramatic, don’t you think?”
Although she had said it wouldn’t be long, it seemed like an eternity before the wagon reached the Cave and Basin. From there, the trail joined pavement and the wagon rolled along more smoothly. The news of Burma’s accident must have already spread, judging from the number of people gathered at spots along the road. Ryan clicked the team to a steady trot and drove them straight to the Mineral Springs Hospital on Spray Avenue. As he pulled up beside the steps leading to the entrance, a hospital orderly came out and hurried to meet them.
“Hello, Mr. Convie.” Ryan jumped down from the driver’s seat. “You got my message?”
“I certainly did, Ryan.” The man looked over the side of the wagon. “What have we got here then? The lady got herself into some trouble, did she?”
While he and Tilly moved Burma to the tailgate of the wagon, Ryan quickly described how they’d found her and what they had done. Ryan lifted her down, but she stumbled and cried out.
“Put your good arm around my neck,” Ryan ordered. Burma didn’t argue as he lifted her and carefully carried her up the steps.
Mr. Convie ran ahead and opened the door for them. Tilly would have followed Ryan into an examination room, but a Sister stopped her.
“Are you family?”
“No, I’m her friend,” Tilly said firmly.
“Only family is permitted to be with her at this time.”
“But she has no family here,” Tilly insisted.
“I’m sorry, those are the rules.” The Sister closed the door with a decisive click, leaving Tilly, fuming, staring at it.
When Ryan emerged he gave her a hug. “You’ve done all you can for now. We’ll come by later and see if we can visit her then.”
She nodded and let him take her to the wagon, where she climbed up beside him.
When they arrived back at the barn, Tilly was dismayed to find a reporter from the Crag and Canyon newspaper waiting for them. Ryan waved him away and hurried Tilly into the barn, but not before a camera flashed, capturing the moment. Tilly’s knees buckled and, before she knew it, Ryan had scooped her into his arms and carried her into the office.
He sat in the chair by the stove and cradled her in his lap. All her strength had melted away leaving her as limp as a wet rag.
“I hope I never have to do anything like that again,” she whispered. “Do you think Burma will be all right?”
“She’s in the best place to get well again,” Ryan said. “But what about you? What do you need right now?”
“Oh, a hot bath and a soft bed would be lovely, but I’m not that lucky.”
“I think that could be arranged.” Ryan kissed the top of her head. “George’s wife will look after you.”
“What?” Tilly looked up at him. “George has a wife? I thought he lived here.”
Ryan laughed at that. “That’s what it seems like, because he lives so close. Come on, Mrs. Nugent is waiting to make a fuss of you. Seems she always wanted a girl, but just got Billy. Think you’re okay to walk a couple of blocks?”
She set her feet on the floor and stood up. The warmth and comfort of the last few moments were enough to revive her a little. Ryan took her hand and walked her to a small house on Otter Street. Petunias bloomed in a pot on the step, a bright spot against the dark timber walls. White curtains hung at the windows and, in answer to his knock, the door swung open invitingly.
“Oh, look at you, you poor lamb.” Tilly found herself drawn into a motherly embrace, the kind she had only ever dreamed of. She turned to Ryan, but Mrs. Nugent was already waving him away. “You come and have a cup of tea, my dear. Much better for you than that wicked coffee George brews. I swear he does it to annoy.”
Tilly sat in a cozy chair beside the stove, inhaling the aroma of fresh baking and warming herself even more with the tea poured for her. She admired the pretty chinaware, drawing a beaming smile from the older woman.
“George said you’d likely want a hot bath when you got back, so I’ve got one ready in the other room. Just needs topping off.”
“But I haven’t got any clean clothes,” Tilly said. “All my stuff is still at the hotel.”
“Don’t you worry about a thing.” Mrs. Nugent smiled at her. “George figured it all out for you. He went up to the hotel and spoke to that Miss Richards and your friend, Felicity. All your things are in the spare bedroom.”
Whatever she had expected, this was not it. However temporary this arrangement might be she would make the most of the situation. When Mrs. Nugent left her, Tilly quickly undressed and stepped into the steaming tub. Bathing in the middle of the day was an unheard of luxury. She didn’t rush, but savored the gently lapping water as she lathered herself with lavender-scented soap. She rested her head against the back of the tub and closed her eyes. How deliciously decadent.
When the water began to cool, she sat up and hauled herself out, reaching for one of the fluffy towels beside the tub. Everything had been placed in the exact spot to make it easy for her. She towelled herself dry and smiled at the sight of her clean clothes piled on the chair.
Once dressed, she returned to the kitchen where Mrs. Nugent had set a plate piled with still-warm cookies and scones.
“Ryan will be back to see you soon. Better help yourself before he can get his greedy paws on them.”
Tilly bit into the best ginger cookie she had ever tasted and said so.
“It’s the blackstrap molasses,” Mrs. Nugent told her as she sat down at the table. She suddenly looked a little serious. “I don’t want to pry, my dear, but it seems from what George told me that you’re in some kind of trouble.”
Tilly licked a cookie crumb off her lip and looked up. George and his wife hardly knew her. Heck, they didn’t know her at all and yet they were offering the kind of help she’d only ever dreamed of. She couldn’t lie to them.
“I was suspected of stealing a guest’s ring which was found in my room.” The accusation still stung. “Because of that I was put in the position of being fired or resigning, so I resigned. But I didn’t do it, I promise you I didn’t.”
“Of course you didn’t.” Mrs. Nugent reached across the table and patted her hand. “Now, if you’d like, we have a spare bedroom since Billy moved in with Ryan and Pete. He said I fussed too much, but I’m his mother, so I think I’m allowed. If you’d like that room, it’s yours.”
“But I don’t have a job,” Tilly protested. “I wouldn’t be able to pay you any rent until I find something.”
Mrs. Nugent threw up her hands as if to fend off Tilly’s objection. “Your room and board is paid for two weeks. That should give you time to get settled into some sort of job.”
“How? Who paid that?”
“You worked all day at the barn yesterday, didn’t you?”
The smile on Mrs. Nugent’s face told Tilly all she needed to know and she smiled back. This, she thought, might have been a moment she could have shared with her own mother. She had been so long with only her father for company she had forgotten how comforting a motherly presence could be. They sat at the table chatting quietly, Tilly sneaking more cookies and making Mrs. Nugent laugh. By the time Ryan came for her, she felt quite at home.
He arrived in a buggy and drove her out to the hospital. Tilly was too full of grateful wonder to want to talk, and Ryan seemed perfectly at ease with that. He said he’d wait for her, and Tilly climbed up the hospital steps without a backward glance, knowing he would.
She approached the reception desk and asked if she might see Miss Burma Evans, half expecting to be refused again. To her surprise, she received a beaming smile and directions to Burma’s room. She tapped on the door and was asked to step inside. When she did, the powerful scent of roses almost overcame her. There were seemingly dozens of pink, red, and white blooms. Some were in vases, others in bowls set on the windowsill, and on the top of a dresser set against one wall.
Burma sat propped up in bed, with piles of white pillows behind her. She had a sticking plaster on her head, her arm in a sling and a big, bright smile on her face.
“Well, you look much better than I expected you’d be,” Tilly said as she took a chair beside the bed.
“It’s probably the morphine they gave me.” Burma shrugged and grinned at her. “I honestly don’t feel a thing.”
“So they’ll keep you in for a few days?”
“Yes, Papa has insisted.” Burma sank back against her pillows. “You know, Tilly, I so underestimated my father. He knew all along that Freddy was a thief, which was the reason he wanted to deal with all the wedding arrangements himself. That was so he could keep an eye on Freddy and be quite, quite sure of his facts before telling me giving me the choice of going ahead with the wedding, or cancelling it. That was why he wouldn’t talk to me on the phone. For about the first time ever, we had a proper conversation, and I fully admit to having no idea exactly what Papa has always tried to do for me.”
“But what made your father suspect him?” Tilly still
“Freddy showed Papa a diamond pin that he said he’d bought for me. But Papa recognized it immediately, as he’d actually had a hand in designing it. You see, Freddy and I had been to a house party back at Easter. The house where it was held was that of Papa’s closest friend and business partner, and the pin had been a gift for his wife. When Papa asked them to check, the pin was not where it should have been.”
“But what happened to Frederic?” Tilly wanted to know. “If your father knew him to be a thief, why didn’t he just have him arrested?”
“Papa said there wasn’t enough proof as there were over a hundred guests at that party. Any one of them could have taken it, or given or sold it to Freddy.” Burma shrugged, as if the incident was now of no merit.
“Do you know where he is now?” Tilly asked.
Burma shook her head. “He was apparently seen boarding a bus to Calgary. Papa says there is a warrant out for his arrest, so it’s only a matter of time before he’s picked up. I’m told your Mounties always get their man.”
Tilly laughed. “Yes, that’s true, but I’m so glad you were able to talk to your father. You must have had a lot to catch up on.”
“Yes, we did. Not that it’s any of your business.” The glint in Burma’s eyes belied her brusque response and she wore an air of smug satisfaction, as if she had a secret but was not quite ready to reveal it.
The uncomfortable feeling that she’d missed something occurred to Tilly but, before she could ask any questions, the door opened.
The tall, well dressed, and imposing figure who entered the room almost took her breath away. Without thinking, she stood up, mouth slightly agape. From everything Burma had said, Tilly had imagined a narrow, mean-faced man, not this clear-eyed gray-haired, handsome individual. His clothes were of the best quality, and his jacket had been cut exactly to fit his broad shoulders.
“Miss McCormack, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand and Tilly took it. It was warm, and firm, and engulfed hers. When she finally plucked up enough courage to look at him, she detected a wicked twinkle in his eyes. “Not quite what you expected?”
“No, Mr. Evans, you’re not,” she said, lifting her chin. She glanced at Burma who seemed to be enjoying the moment immensely.
“I told you she was honest, Papa,” she said with a laugh.
“And that’s a good thing.” Mr. Evans smiled at Tilly. “Please sit down, Miss McCormack, it was not my intention to interrupt your visit.” Tilly sat down again, still a little shocked by this man, who now walked around to the far side of the bed and took his daughter’s hand.
“I’m very glad you are here, though, as I want to thank you profusely for saving my daughter’s life. Is there, perhaps, something I might do for you in return?”
“Why, absolutely nothing at all.” Tilly looked at him in astonishment. Rescuing Burma and having her survive was thanks enough.
“I told you she’d say that, Papa,” Burma said smugly.
“So do you want to tell her?” Mr. Evans looked at his daughter expectantly.
“No, but I will ask her.”
Tilly curled her fingers together nervously. “What are you talking about?”
A grin split Burma’s face and she looked well pleased with herself. “I talked to Papa about it this afternoon, and I’d like to give you my wedding. Everything has been ordered and paid for. Why not just leave it as it is, instead of having Papa’s secretary cancel everything?”
Mr. Evans regarded Tilly solemnly. “I think it’s great idea, Miss McCormack. Burma tells me you have no family and, if you should like it, I would be honored to give you away.”
The blood drained from Tilly’s face, right down to her feet leaving her cold. Burma, looking very pleased with herself, hummed the strains of the wedding march. Then, and much to her chagrin, blood returned to Tilly’s face again, burning her cheeks.
“I couldn’t,” she gasped.
“Yes, you could,” Burma said. “You know you’re going to marry Ryan and everything’s arranged. Wedding dress. Bridesmaids. Minister. Reception.” She held up a finger as she listed each item. “Invite who you like.”
Too stunned to talk, Tilly just sat there as Mr. Evans headed towards the door. “That’s something I’ll leave you two to talk about. Right now, I’m going down to have a word with your young man, Miss McCormack.”
He left the room and Tilly could do nothing but stare after him.
“Please close your mouth and say something,” Burma chided her.
“I don’t know what to say.” Tilly flapped her hands helplessly, overwhelmed by their generosity.
“Just say yes,” Burma urged her. “It will please Papa and me. You saved me from a fate far worse than either of us could have imagined. We know Frederic framed you when he stole Sylvia’s ring and had it put in your room. I bet you could even get your job back here if you wanted it. But you don’t, do you?”
Tilly couldn’t find the words to express what she was feeling. There seemed to be none suitable for the occasion and she gulped awkwardly. “The dress,” she finally stammered. “You’re so much slimmer than I am. It wouldn’t fit me, and your wedding day is only a week away.”
“I was bigger when I had that dress made,” Burma assured her. “It was only all that nonsense with Freddy that made me lose weight. There are seamstresses at the hotel who can fix it. You’ll be fine. Just say yes, Tilly. Please. It would make me so happy.”
“I would,” Tilly said, “but I can’t.”
“Why ever not?” Burma slapped her good hand down on the bed in exasperation.
“Because,” Tilly wailed, raising tear-filled eyes, “Ryan hasn’t asked me to marry him.”