At the hotel, Ella filled her satchel with the necessary items she’d need for an overnight stay, then dropped in her camera, an extra roll of undeveloped film, and her sewing kit. After a quick inventory of her room, she slipped out and locked the door with a satisfying click. If Mabel came calling, she could take what she wanted. Everything that meant anything to Ella was in her satchel. And waiting downstairs in the lobby.
She stopped at the landing and leaned over the railing, craning her neck to see if Cale had arrived, but she didn’t have a complete view. Gripping the railing in one hand and her satchel strap in the other, she made her way down the stairs. Anticipation had temporarily banished her fatigue, but weariness was creeping back into her leg. The day was taking its toll, and her body ached for a warm water-filled copper tub, not a long horseback ride to the Rafter-H.
Her heart, however, had other ideas.
Especially when she caught him standing before the large window, looking out on the street—a perfect opportunity to drink her fill undetected. Broad-shouldered and solidly built, he reminded her of the lofty pine at his home. Protective, sheltering, and bearing a sweet perfume all his own.
He turned suddenly, as though he’d heard something.
Had she sighed?
Immediately his alerted features shifted into a much-too-masculine smile.
Her stomach flipped over and she hiccupped.
“You all right?” He approached, the question pulling his brow.
“Yes. Fine, thank you.” She gripped her satchel strap and drew a deep breath through her nose. Throwing herself into his arms would certainly be a most inappropriate thing to do.
Doc waited for them in front of the hotel, his reins draped through a ring on a granite hitching post. Cale gave her a leg up, handed her the reins, and then stepped in the stirrup and swung up behind her.
With the welcome sensation of his close proximity, she reined Doc toward the edge of town.
She relaxed once they made the bend in the road and turned north away from the river. Here, no curious eyes followed their unusual pairing atop a single horse rather than riding in an automobile. She minded their situation not at all, though Cale would no doubt prefer the saddle seat to its leather skirt.
A gallant knight indeed.
She looked across her shoulder. “What did the newspaper editor say?”
Cale leaned in and bent around her at a most disconcerting angle, his breath dusting her face. “He said he’d have the film ready tomorrow afternoon.”
So much for conversation. Any more of that, and she’d have to get off and walk. “Perfect.” She straightened her spine, determined to ask no more questions until they were safely to the ranch with more space between them.
Based on her empty stomach and the rumbling of Cale’s behind her, it was sometime after noon when they rode into the yard, greeted by the old spotted dog and three young and boisterous boys.
“You came back!” Kip’s gap-toothed grin lit his dirt-smudged face.
“Told you.” Jay stopped jumping up and down and struck a mature pose. “Welcome back, Miss Ella.”
Ty took hold of Doc’s bridle as they slowed. “I’ll take him for you, Miss Ella.”
Cale jumped down. “Good man, Ty. Hold on a minute.”
He turned with outstretched hands, a much more inviting proposition than stepping down in her weakened state. Effortlessly, he lifted her from the saddle and set her on the ground, his hands lingering at her waist until confident of her balance.
She brushed at her skirt and shifted the satchel strap. “I seem to be saying the same thing over and over.”
He held her gaze with a hint of concern. “What’s that?”
“Thank you.”
His grin mimicked his nephews, and he tipped his hat brim. “My pleasure, ma’am.”
There it was again, that true cowboy trait that turned her insides to marmalade. Oh, how she would miss hearing those words.
Rather than weep at the thought, she gave each boy a quick hug and, with Cale’s offered elbow, made her way to the back of the house and up the porch steps.
Helen burst out the screen door, arms wide. “Land sakes, it’s good to see you.”
The woman’s hearty squeeze nearly pressed tears from Ella’s eyes.
Drawing back, Helen cupped each shoulder in a palm and swept her gaze from Cale to Ella. “You here for good?”
Ella choked on her own breath, covering her sudden coughing fit with her hand.
Helen gave her back a good slap and ushered her inside.
“Let’s get you some lemonade and a bite to eat. You, too, Cale, after you take that satchel to the boys’ room. You are staying the night, aren’t you, dear?”
The dimple stitched Cale’s cheek in spite of his seamed lips, and he ambled off with her satchel. Dropping into a chair at the familiar table, Ella lightly fingered her cheeks and forehead. She’d not brought a hat for the long ride, and her sun-kissed skin would no doubt pay the price.
“To answer your question, yes. Mr. Thorson and a few others are coming out tomorrow to film scenery, and I’ll return with them.” She pushed the depressing fact to the farthest corner of her mind.
“So we’ve got company again. That means cookies, pies . . .” Helen set a lemony drink before her.
“No—they won’t be here that long. Please, don’t put yourself out.”
A hand deflected the comment. “Cookies and pies are my specialty. How else do you think I bribe those three little hooligans into doing what I tell them?”
Genuine laughter eased the tension in Ella’s shoulders, and the lemonade cooled her dry lips. The sense of home nearly overwhelmed her. Such a foreign impression compared to what awaited her in Chicago.
Helen moved a pan to the front of the stove. “I’ll heat these beans for you, and I’ve got cornbread to go with them.” She joined Ella at the table, dabbing her brow with her apron hem. “So tell me what you’ve been doing since last you were here. Anything exciting?”
Ella pressed the back of her hand to her wet lips, which sent Helen after a napkin and gave her time to phrase an answer. “I did some riding.”
One brow cocked over all-seeing gray eyes that traveled from blouse to riding skirt to fancy stitched boots and back again. “Do tell.”
Exactly what Ella didn’t want to do. Thank goodness she had washed her face at the hotel. There would have been no ducking kohl-rimmed eyes and powder on one’s collar. “How have the boys been? Has the bear returned?”
A heavy humph announced the woman’s frustration. “They’ll be bear bait for sure if they don’t stay closer to the house. But for all my harping at them, the bear hasn’t shown his hide since the last time you were here.” She mopped her forehead again. “Did Cale tell you about the hunt?”
“Was it successful?” As soon as the words left her lips, she knew the question was misplaced if Helen was still warning the boys to stay close to the house.
“From what Hugh said, they lured it down to a pond on the Crossett place night before last. Staked out a bucket calf, poor little thing. But shooting in the dark didn’t win any prizes, and the bear got away.” She chuckled. “So did the calf. Lord, musta been looking out for the little fella.”
A chill crawled up Ella’s back as she imagined the sacrificial animal. One for the many? Is that how cattlemen viewed the situation? It gave her pause to think that Cale would agree to such terms. He seemed a kinder sort. Hugh, on the other hand, did not.
As if in confirmation, he banged in through the screen door and stopped abruptly.
The skin on Ella’s neck crawled beneath his needling stare. “Hello, Hugh.”
Helen stood. “Coffee? Sit a spell and visit. Ella’s here for a day or so.”
He swore under his breath.
If this were her father’s parlor, the man would be escorted from the house. But this was his house. From his look of disgust, he wanted to do the escorting.
He turned and slammed out the screen door the same way he’d come in, banging it against the outside wall.
In the face of such disrespectful rudeness, Ella was embarrassed for Helen.
Helen was anything but.
The coffee pot hit the stovetop as hard as the screen had hit the house. “If I didn’t take to those three youngsters like I do, I’d leave that man to stew in his own juices. No kind of woman wants to live with that. And if he’s not careful, he’ll drive those boys off too.”
Ella sipped her lemonade, marveling anew at how dissimilar the Hutton twins were. “He and Cale are so different.”
“Cale came close to mimicking his brother after they missed the bear, tearing around here like his tail was singed.” Helen returned to her chair with an unladylike grunt.
Ella swallowed a lemony chuckle, allowing the woman her indiscretion. She deserved much more than an exhausted groan in light of her surly employer.
“Didn’t surprise me one bit that he took off for town this morning and brought you back. Truth is I was hoping he would.”
Ella stared at her hostess, struck again by such plain speech.
Helen let out a laugh. “Don’t look so shocked. You do that boy a world of good, and he deserves it.” She finished her lemonade, set the glass on the table without making a sound, and gave Ella a sideways glance. “He’s crazy about you, you know.”
No, she didn’t know. Yet the way he kissed her earlier . . .
“Would you stay on if he asked you to marry him?”
Ella swallowed around her heart, for it had climbed into her throat screaming yes! yes!
Surprised at such an irrational answer that she dared not declare, she fumbled with the buttons on her shirt. “I . . . well . . . he’s not . . .”
“Mark my words. If he knows what’s good for him—and I believe he does—he will by this time tomorrow.”
~
Cale wanted her to see the sunrise. But not after the fact. See it before it arrived, as it slid along the horizon like molten gold. If they didn’t leave in the next half-minute, it’d be too late.
Doc stomped a foot, relaying Cale’s tension as they waited at the corrals. Barlow dozed, one back leg cocked, willing but not eager about a pre-dawn ride to the ridge.
The screen door shut. Cale squinted toward the house, picking out only the faint glow from the kitchen window. He’d lit a lamp and set it on a stump outside before he left, hoping it would draw Ella through the dark. Hoping it would draw her to him, the old moth to the flame trick. But he had a different ending in mind, not one that consumed the fluttering creature.
Doc turned his head. Cale stilled every muscle, straining to hear what his horse heard, and soon he caught the uneven footfall on dry ground. His pounding pulse was louder.
“Good morning.” Her near whisper reflected her nature—not abrupt or loud or out of place, but gentle. Comprehending. Confident. She greeted Doc with a hand-rub along his head, and the gelding whiffled his pleasure.
“I’m glad you came.” Cale gathered the mare’s reins and led her away from the corral. “Barlow’s ready for you.”
He couldn’t see Ella’s smile, but he sensed it the same way he sensed rain on the wind and snow before the storm. A clear day before it arrived.
She stepped in next to him, her hair smelling like a flower. No hat. He was ready.
He handed her the reins. She grabbed a handful of mane. Getting on was her challenge, putting all her weight—what little there was—on her right leg as she slid her left foot in the stirrup.
He lifted his hands, ready to catch her if she wobbled, but resisted encircling her waist and lifting her up. The determination glinting in her eye yesterday still shone in his memory. She’d conquered something. He wouldn’t take it from her.
With her right hand, she gripped the low edge of the cantle, gave a little hop, and pulled herself up.
He mounted Doc and handed her one of Jay’s old hats that was waiting on his saddle horn. “You might want this.”
Her breathy laugh tightened a cinch around his gut. “You think of everything.”
He could only hope.
Turning away from the barn, he struck out on a southerly trail that led up to the ridge. Ella followed close behind. He’d prefer to have her beside him, where he could look at her, see her smart little chin and dark eyes. But unfamiliar with the country, she belonged behind him in the dark.
Reflexively, he reassured himself by touching the rifle sheathed beneath his right leg. His revolver rested against his thigh. Not that he expected trouble, but neither would he be unprepared.
Doc took to the loose shale like a big horn sheep, Barlow just as sure-footed behind him. The night slid by degree toward the western mountain peaks, stars winking out to gray in its wake.
At the top, he reined in and Ella came up beside him. Doc blew triumphantly and bobbed his head. Barlow pricked her ears to the east as if listening for the sun’s footsteps.
Ella remained silent, her face trained toward the horizon where a russet thread pulled along its edge.
A wren sang out. Its cousins joined, and soon a chorus filled the cedars and pines around them.
A slow, fiery orange split the seam between earth and sky, and Ella’s breathy oh cinched him again. A hot stain burned into his chest, and grateful that she couldn’t see him clearly, he slid his right hand beneath his vest and rubbed the spot.
The fire bled to gold that bled to pink, and light broke through a low band of clouds, throwing spires into the sky.
“‘If I take the wings of the morning . . .’”
Had he not been holding his breath, he would have missed her voice for the bird song.
She saw it. Really saw it.
How could he go forward from this place without her beside him? Without the one so unlike him who fit him so well.
~
For all its glory, Cale dreaded the other side of a double-edged sunrise. A display like this morning’s nearly always promised an afternoon storm. Any other day, he wouldn’t have minded. But this could be his last day with Ella. Unless he asked her to stay. And she said yes.
Helen had the kitchen smelling like coffee, hotcakes, and bacon when they returned from their ride, and before they finished eating, Tug announced approaching visitors. Sure enough, a dark green touring car rolled into the yard with Thorson and Pete.
If scenery was what they wanted, Cale had plenty to go around. Hugh had made himself scarce since learning the night before at supper that Thorson would show up this morning, so Cale saddled an easy-gaited horse for the director. He helped Pete get his camera strapped on behind Barlow’s saddle, and then mounted Doc.
He led them to the cross-fenced pasture, a good close spot for what Thorson wanted. Distant mountains rose in the west. Meadows rolled under foot, and a nearby creek spun through clusters of spruce and juniper. And to the south, an aspen-flanked ridge where he had no intention of taking them.
“Keep the barn roof in sight, and you can make it back to the house without me.” He tugged his hat down and reined Doc around.
Thorson looked off toward a stand of pine and rubbed the side of his face. “You sure that bear’s not around here? I see you’ve got your rifle with you.”
Pete’s head swiveled like a barn owl’s. “Bear?”
Quick to catch his error, Thorson waved off his concern. “Rumor is all. Heard it in town.” He cut a sharp look at Cale demanding confirmation.
“Don’t go off in the woods. If you hear a racket in the brush, jump on your horses and ride hard to the house.”
Pete went white. “You’re serious.”
Cale almost felt guilty leading on the two city dudes. “Not likely you’ll see a bear in broad daylight.” He squeezed Doc.
“You’re not going to just lea-ve us, are you?” Pete’s voice cracked.
“Oh, stop your whining.” Thorson hitched his trousers, as much as he could while sittin’ a horse. “Hutton’s not worried, and that’s good enough for me. Let’s get this done and get back to town. I want to check on tomorrow’s train.”
Cale yanked the reins and nearly set Doc on his heels. Not the news he wanted to hear. It took a minute for his pulse to find its way back to his brain so he could think clearly, then he reined around and up to Thorson. “I’ll bring Ella back in the wagon later.”
Thorson gave him a hard look. Cale waited, both barrels loaded with what he thought of a man who’d leave her to walk back from the rodeo.
Without a word, the director dismounted and, holding his reins, turned in a slow circle, taking in the view.
Cale took off toward the house at a lope.