Frozen Fancy
Page 4
She had nearly made it to the cabin when an ear-piercing howl broke through the silence of the newly fallen powder. Elise froze as a gray wolf confronted her. She had always thought they made fearsome predators, and generally carried her rifle out to the hothouse as protection. But because of Mr. Cade, she had been distracted and forgot to take ample precaution.
She watched the wolf as they faced off against one another. It didn’t try to approach her from the copse of trees a short distance away, merely watched her with a discerning eye, as if trying to decide if she was a friend, or foe, or perhaps even his next meal.
Hoping that it wasn’t the latter, Elise jumped when a sharp retort rent the air, scattering the winter birds from the trees and echoing throughout the mountaintop. She watched the wolf turn and run away as Mr. Cade came into view with his bearskin coat around his shoulders, holding her rifle upright. The barrel was still smoking from his warning shot. In that instant, he looked more fearsome than the wolf ever could.
He looked at her in concern, his dark eyes assessing. “Are you alright?”
She found it difficult to speak, so she nodded.
He held his hand out to her. “Let’s get you inside, shall we?”
Elise’s fingers trembled as she put her gloved hand in his.
Once they were in the safety of the cabin, she released a long exhale. She should have been grateful that he’d scared the wolf off, but she was angry that she’d allowed this man to distract her from something as simple as remembering to take protection with her. She wasn’t a weak willed woman who fainted at the sight of a handsome man. Her mother had taught her to be strong and resilient, so where had that Elise gone?
She was about to tell him to leave right then, poor weather conditions or not, when she happened to spy the mending, neatly folded in a corner of the room. She tamped down her irritation at herself and said evenly, “Did you do that?”
He followed her gaze and then set aside the rifle with a rather sheepish expression. “I wanted to be useful, instead of just sitting around twiddling my thumbs. I’m afraid it’s one more torturous lesson that my mother insisted I learn.”
Elise nodded, not trusting herself to speak. While she was truly grateful that the sewing was done so that she didn’t have to suffer through it herself, it wasn’t his place to see to the things that needed fixing in her life.
She removed her cloak and hung it on the peg by the door. “Thank you, Mr. Cade. I’ll get lunch on.” She tied her apron around her waist and headed for the kitchen.
***
Chauncey wondered if he hadn’t overstepped, for Elise didn’t appear pleased that he’d intervened with the wolf, nor that he’d tried to do something to repay her kindness.
Perhaps it was time he moved on, whether he was ready or not.
He stared at her stiff back and said, “I think it’s best if I leave in the morning.”
She paused in her task of chopping carrots, but didn’t face him. “If that’s what you want.”
As silence enveloped them, Beau got to his feet and walked over to him, looking up with those soulful eyes, as if begging him to reconsider. He knelt by the hound and scratched behind his ears to murmur, “Sorry, boy, but we don’t want to overstay our welcome.”
Since he wasn’t sure if any further help would be greeted with enthusiasm, Chauncey went over to the sofa and sat down. Without anything else to do, he picked up a book that had been discarded on a side table. His mouth kicked up at one corner to see that it was ‘Walden, or Life in the Woods’ by Henry David Thoreau. He’d read the popular memoir, and the irony was not lost on him that Miss Erindelle should have a copy. It spoke of shunning material things, and to embrace the nature around you to live a simple life.
He flipped through the pages and paused now and then to read a familiar passage. After a time, he became so engrossed that he didn’t even know how much time had passed.
“That was my father’s favorite book.”
Chauncey glanced up to see his hostess standing a short distance away. She held a rather wistful expression on her face.
He shut the volume and put it back where he’d found it, suddenly feeling as though he’d intruded on something rather personal. “It was one of my favorites too.”
“You’re welcome to keep reading it. As much as my father wanted me to engage with the writing, it just wasn’t for me.” Her cheeks reddened slightly. “I was actually more fond of Jane Austen.”
“Ah. The romantic English novelist.” Chauncey smiled. “Which one was your favorite?”
“I think it was probably Northanger Abbey.” She shrugged. “Although I devoured them all. Grannie had all of her novels, and after school I would make my way to the inn and then sneak the book into my room when I got home. Sometimes I would read all night and my mother and father never knew.”
He frowned slightly. “They wouldn’t have approved?”
She shook her white blond head. “No. They preferred that I read something that would develop the mind. Reading romantic novels wasn’t part of that plan.”
His frown grew deeper, and while he considered what he was about to say, for it was none of his business, he couldn’t help asking, “Why do you stay here, Miss Erindelle? It’s apparent that you weren’t meant for the same path as your parents.”
She lifted her chin slightly. “Because this is where I belong.” She swallowed visibly. “The people of Charming whispered that my mother was a witch. I don’t care to carry around the same nomenclature.”
It all became clear. He slowly stood. “So you stay here in this isolated cabin, prepared to throw your entire life away…because you’re afraid?”
Her expression hardened. “You don’t know anything about it, Mr. Cade. And I’ll thank you to stay out of my private affairs.”
She spun on her heel, intending to put an end to their conversation. But he wasn’t ready to stop there. He reached out and grabbed her arm. “You can’t hide forever, Miss Erindelle. Someday you will have to dare to trust someone.”
Her blue eyes flashed. “I suppose that means I should trust you?”
He relaxed his grip, and then released her. Standing tall and straight, he said, “No, you shouldn’t. In fact, I’m the last man you should trust.”
Chapter Six
Elise blinked, the blood receding from her face as she stepped away from him in growing horror. “What are you not telling me, Mr. Cade?”
She watched as a battle warred on his features, his face twisted into a semblance of honor and self-preservation.
When he clenched his jaw and remained silent, her voice rising as she demanded, “It was all a lie, wasn’t it?” She put a hand to her head and turned away from him, wondering how she could have been foolish enough to be duped by this stranger. She’d taken everything he said at face value; never thinking to question whether that tintype he had with him was even his family. She covered her mouth with a gasp.
What if he was just another deserter who had stolen that pack?
“I never lied to you.”
His deep voice didn’t even penetrate her growing panic. Images of the day she’d been accosted came tumbling back. And this time, there was no one who might come to her aid. Suddenly, she spied the rifle propped up by the door. It wasn’t loaded, for he’d shot that warning shot earlier. Either way, she’d found that staring down the barrel of an empty gun could be rather daunting.
She rushed over and grabbed it, bringing it to her shoulder and aiming it directly at his heart. “I think it’s time you left, Mr. Cade.”
He held up his hands, even though he had to know it wasn’t primed. His face was calm and composed when he said, “Everything I said was true,” he reiterated. “The only thing I concealed was that the men I shot weren’t just simple trappers. Some of them had prominent connections to the English Crown.” He swallowed. “One of them was the Earl of Arandine.”
The hold Elise had on the gun wavered, her eyes narrowing as she considered this n
ew information, and whether or not she should believe it.
“I found out, not long after I left, that the Canadian authorities had put a bounty on my head. It was why I never stayed in one place for any length of time, and why I chose to trek through the mountains with no other choice but my own safety. I fully intend to make my way to California, and maybe as far as Mexico.” His ebony eyes shone with purpose. “I’ll be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my days, but if you ask me if I would do it again, the answer is yes. Those men took everything from me, my only reason for living. Without my wife and son, I am nothing.”
They stared off at one another for a few more moments, and then Elise lowered the gun with a sigh. She closed her eyes, not even sure what her next move should be. Her father had always told her to listen with her heart, but from the moment Chauncey Cade had walked through her door, that particular organ had been decidedly fickle, even more so when his cool, even words tore through her soul.
Elise opened her eyes and looked at him once more. “We are more alike than you might think, Mr. Cade. We’re both alone with nowhere else to go.” She swallowed. “Please, stay. I… don’t want you to leave.”
He regarded her for a moment, and then gave a nod of his head. “Then I’ll continue to be obliged to you, ma’am.” He paused and then added. “But if I’m going to be here for a while, then you have to give me something to do, rather than stare at the wall. I’m not used to much inactivity.”
Elise walked over and put the rifle back in the cabinet where it belonged. She turned back to Mr. Cade and put her hands on her hips. “I think that can be arranged.”
***
Chauncey still wasn’t sure if staying there was the right idea, for either of them, but he honestly didn’t want to leave Elise. And now that she knew the whole, sordid truth of his past, as well as gaining her reluctant acceptance, the need to stay with her was even more pronounced. Nothing would ever take the place of his Martha or their son, but with Elise, he could actually imagine a life at her side. Of course, such a dream was impossible since he was a wanted man, and he refused to take another woman down with him. But it was something he could entertain at night when he lay down to sleep.
After they sat down for lunch, she gathered up the dishes. “I would appreciate it if you could heat some water. It’s time I did the wash.” She gestured to the rug in the living area. “And if you can beat that rug, I would be grateful. I dislike that nearly as much as sewing.”
He inclined his head and stood. “I’d be glad to.”
The rest of the afternoon passed in a bevy of chores. He quickly found that Elise didn’t stay immobile for long, but as a woman who lived on her own, she found plenty to do.
After the wash was done, she strung up a line of twine in her bedchamber. He found her pinning up a set of white cotton undergarments when he returned from taking care of the rug. She glanced over her shoulder and colored slightly. “I normally hang these in the living area, but I didn’t think you’d appreciate waking up to a woman’s petticoats.”
He grinned. “I daresay it wouldn’t be the first time.”
She reddened even more, if possible, but said nothing more.
As Elise cooked the evening meal, Chauncey packed more wood in from outside and also hauled another bucket of water. On his second trip inside, she saw that there was fresh snow on his bearskin coat. “It’s started snowing again?”
“It appears so,” he returned dryly. “I don’t recall Texas being quite so…white.”
He winked at her and she busied herself with gathering the dishes for the table. “You’ve been out west before?” she asked.
“I have, although not this far. My father had business in Fort Worth when I was little. He had considered the longhorn cattle trade for a time, but decided that he preferred the wilderness of Canada to the desert army outpost in the plains.” He studied her. “What about you? How did you end up in Texas?”
“My parents arrived here on the wagon train from Kentucky,” she returned, as she began to divide up the meat and cooked vegetables that began to tantalize his nostrils. “Many were headed out west to the California gold rush, but when they passed through Charming, my mother said she fell in love with the town and wanted to stay. My father agreed and here I am.”
“It sounds as though it certainly didn’t take much to convince him,” he noted.
“I showed you the love tokens,” she returned. “He loved my mother very much.” She settled herself and glanced down at her plate in apparent contemplation. “I always hoped to find a man who cared for me the same way, but as yet, God has chosen not to put someone worthy enough in my path.”
Chauncey thought of the boys she must have gone to school with, and how they must have been blind not to see this treasure of a woman beneath their very eyes. But then, if they imagined her mother to have been some sort of witch, it was rather easy to imagine her life had been rather lonely, and why she’d turned to such romantic stories like Jane Austen.
He clenched his spoon and ate his meal in silence, finding it best not to reply. The tales that she adored so much were nothing more than fiction.
Those kinds of heroes didn’t really exist.
***
After the rather tension-filled day, Elise decided that they both deserved a treat, so she’d cut up a few apples that she’d saved in storage and put together a pie.
“I have a surprise for you,” she announced when her guest sat back with a contented sigh.
He regarded her curiously, so with a secretive smile, she walked over to the pie safe where she had stored the dessert out of sight until then. She withdrew the plate and placed it carefully on the table. “I hope you’re still hungry.”
He groaned. “That looks amazing.” He lifted a dark brow at her. “You aren’t trying to fatten me up, are you, Miss Erindelle?”
She laughed. “Don’t get used to it. Besides, one slice isn’t going to do that much damage to your figure.”
Elise cut a slice and laid it on his plate. He dug into it almost instantly. After a moment, he sighed. “I’m not sure I can stop at just one piece. This is delicious.”
“Thank you. It’s my mother’s recipe.”
His dark eyes warmed as they lit on her. “She sounds like an amazing woman. Just like her daughter.”
Uncomfortable with the praise, and his piercing stare, she said, “I don’t know about that. Not many people could compare to Mrs. Irina Erindelle.” She walked into her bedroom and grabbed the small frame on her dresser and returned to the table where she handed it to him. “These are my parents on their wedding day. It’s the only portrait I have of them.”
He looked at the couple for a moment and then said, “They look very happy.” He returned it to her. “Although I might have thought your mother would have had blond hair like you.”
Elise had always been self-conscious about her hair, and right now wasn’t any different. She gathered the end of her braid and twisted it around her finger. “My mother said that everyone in her family had always had dark hair, but because I was born on the winter solstice, that made me special. But that’s also why the children I grew up with used to call me the Ice Queen.”
His forehead creased. “That must mean you have a birthday coming up soon.”
“I do,” she admitted. “But other than baking a cake, I don’t usually celebrate it.”
His eyes sparked with determination. “This year will be different.”
“How so?” She tilted her head curiously. “If it keeps snowing like this, it will be impossible to travel down the mountain to Charming.”
“Who said anything about leaving the cabin?”
She blinked. “Well, I suppose I assumed—”
He got to his feet and came around the table to stand in front of her. His towering height and muscular build made her feel impossibly small. “It’s not necessary to have a crowd of people around to have a good time.” He reached out and dared to brush his knuckles again
st her cheek. She drew in a sharp breath of air as he murmured, “I promise that this year, you’ll have a memorable birthday.”
***
Elise parted ways with Mr. Cade shortly thereafter. She went into her room and shut the door, leaning against it for a moment to regain her bearings. Once her heartbeat had returned to normal, she moved past her drying string of linens and began to remove her dress to prepare for bed. Not for the first time, she imagined what it might be like if Mr. Cade were to stay here on a more permanent basis, and what it might be like to carry his last name. She admitted that Mrs. Elise Cade had a rather nice ring to it.
But after what he’d told her today, that he was a fugitive…there was surely no hope for a future with him. Of course, she could run away with him, but what kind of life would that be, especially if their union were to bear any fruit?
She put a hand to her stomach and wondered what it might be like to carry a child, to feel a life growing inside of her womb. Some of the girls she’d gone to school with in Charming already had families of their own, with several children trailing after their skirts. She remembered seeing Agnatha Graves and her swollen belly for the first time, and a pang of envy had shot through her. The girl was smiling, and looked positively radiant as she strode toward the mercantile on the arm of her husband, while Elise had gone back home alone. Weeks later, Elise had still lain awake at night imagining the same scenario for herself.
Although she hadn’t thought of that day in months, it was on her mind tonight as she lay down and stared at the wooden ceiling above her. If she closed her eyes, she could almost picture a wooden cradle in a corner of the room and a small wriggling bundle lying inside. The baby blanket that her mother had knitted for her was lovingly tucked away in her hope chest, along with several white gowns.
She rolled onto her side and a single tear seeped from her eyelid, disappearing into her hairline. Perhaps this sudden burst of melancholy had to do with the fact that her twenty-fourth birthday was approaching. For some, that might mean she was already an old maid, an orphan spinster with nothing but an empty existence stretching out before her. Not the most exuberant of thoughts, to be sure, so she concentrated instead on Mr. Cade’s promise that this year, he would make sure her special day would be one to be remembered. She couldn’t imagine what he could do while they were isolated in a mountain cabin in the midst of a frozen snowstorm for the centuries, but at least the prospect put a smile on her face as she fell asleep.