by Linda Ford
“That sounds fine to me,” Aunt Alice said. “Nan?”
“I don’t suppose there’s any harm in starting.”
Eve carried the pot of stew to the table and dished up some for each of them.
Aunt Nancy watched her. “You aren’t going to eat? Are you worried about him?”
“I’m sure he can take care of himself.” She filled a plate and sat with them simply to avoid causing them concern.
“Shall I ask the blessing?” Nancy said.
No one said otherwise, so she did.
The sound of someone outside broke the moment of silence after Aunt Nancy’s Amen.
Eve rushed to the window. “It’s Cole. He’s going to the barn.”
“He’s safe then?” his mother asked.
“It appears so.”
“I wonder why he’s so late,” Aunt Alice asked.
“I expect he had things to take care of.” Eve couldn’t wait to ask him what he’d discovered.
She watched him enter the barn and counted the minutes. What if someone hid there and took him captive? Or worse? Her only weapon was her hoe that she had leaned against the side of the door when she returned to the house. It wasn’t much protection against an intruder with a firearm, but it was all she had.
He had to look after his horse. How long would that take? Too bad Flora wasn’t there. She was far more experienced with such things. She’d know exactly how long Cole required to tend to his animal.
But her sister was not there. Only Eve and two older ladies who needed her to be calm and do what she could to protect them if the need arose.
Cole still didn’t leave the barn.
“Your food is getting cold,” Aunt Nancy said. “Come and eat.”
Alice giggled. “She’s waiting for Cole. I expect her food is tasteless with him not here.”
Eve made a disbelieving sound, only half listening to the ladies. She eyed the distance between the two buildings. The trees that crowded up to the veranda went toward the barn, then ended in the corner of the corrals. There would not be much cover to hide her once she left the trees. At least her brown skirt and paler shirtwaist wouldn’t stand out.
She drew in a steadying breath. Whatever was causing his delay, she needed to investigate and do so cautiously.
At that moment, Cole stepped from the barn, leading his horse. Her breath whooshed out. He closed the door, a squeal of the pulley reaching the house.
Eve smiled. An instant warning system.
Cole turned the horse into the pasture by the barn and looked around. He seemed intent on studying something beyond the barn and out of Eve’s line of vision.
She shuddered to think what it might be. A lone man. A whole gang.
He adjusted his hat and strode toward the house.
She sank back on her heels. “He’s coming now.” Certainly took him long enough. Now that her fear was over, she wasn’t sure what she felt, but annoyance seemed the safest emotion to allow.
He stepped into the house and met her gaze. He didn’t shake his head or nod, but she was certain his steady gaze meant to inform her he had found no one.
She returned to the table and waited as he washed his hands, then pushed the pot of stew toward him.
He paused.
“The food has already been blessed,” Aunt Alice said.
Cole took a generous serving.
“You were gone long enough,” Aunt Alice said, jabbing her fork toward him. “Poor Eve was so worried about you.”
“She say so?”
“Didn’t have to,” the woman continued. “My eyes work just fine.”
Eve shook her head. “Aunt Alice, you have a fine imagination.”
Aunt Alice jabbed her fork toward Eve. “I know what I know.”
Aunt Nancy fluttered her hand, perhaps hoping to divert her sister. “Hurry up, Alice, I’m anxious for some of that cake. Yum. Doesn’t it smell good, Cole?”
He cleaned his plate and eyed what was left of the stew. “You saving that?” he asked Eve.
She chuckled. “Go head. Clean it up.”
He wiped the pot so clean it would only take a quick swipe of the dish rag to finish the job.
Eve brought the iced spice cake and four dessert-sized plates to the table. She made the first slice. “How much, Aunt Alice?” She moved the knife an inch, two, and toward three inches as Aunt Alice continued to say, “Bigger.”
Eve stopped. “Are you planning for the rest of us to have some?”
Aunt Alice laughed. “Are you saying I can have it all to myself?”
Aunt Nancy and Cole both protested.
Eve cut a piece for each of them and sat down. She longed to ask Cole what he’d learned but she didn’t want to discuss the subject of a prowler in front of the women.
There was no rushing him, as Aunt Nancy and Aunt Alice had decided to tell Cole every detail of their day.
“Alice tried to knit. Silly old woman. Now she’s complaining her arm hurts.”
“I’m not good at doing nothing,” Aunt Alice complained. “Can’t even weed the garden. Poor Mrs. Stanley. Putting in all that work for someone else to reap the reward. I don’t suppose you left her a garden at your gold claim?”
Cole hooted. “What wasn’t rock and mountain was dug up for gold.”
“Sounds awful,” his mother said.
Eve silently agreed.
Cole ate a bite of cake before he responded. “Most of us weren’t concerned with anything but getting what gold we could.”
Eve wondered if she detected a sorrowful note in his voice.
Everyone had finished eating, but still lingered at the table.
Eve gathered up the dishes and carried them to the worktable. She filled a basin with hot water and set to washing them.
“I’ll dry.” Nancy wheeled herself over.
Alice put away a few things and washed the table. She stopped in front of Cole. “You planning to put down roots there?”
Cole chuckled. “I’m waiting for Eve. I thought she might like to take an evening walk.”
Alice chortled. “I wondered how long it would take for you to come to your senses.” She patted his back. “About time.”
Eve’s cheeks burned.
Nancy glanced up at her and grinned.
Eve couldn’t bring herself to look at Cole and gauge his response.
Cole decided to let his ma and aunt have their harmless fun. Both he and Eve knew his real reason for wanting to talk to her.
She hung up the dish rag, took the basin out, and tossed the contents into the trees.
He followed her and waited while she set the basin on the veranda.
The two ladies peered through the door, watching them. He waved and leaned over to murmur for Eve’s ears alone. “Let’s walk.”
Aunt Alice called, “Now that’s just plain selfish.”
“Alice,” Ma scolded. “Let them be.” She rolled away, but Aunt Alice stayed at the door watching Cole and Eve leave.
They went toward the corrals. He judged they were far enough away that they wouldn’t be overheard.
“I didn’t find anything or anybody. Tomorrow I will ride the other direction and see if I can pick up any clues.”
“Seems if someone is hanging about there should be some evidence.”
“I’ll find it. In the meantime, can I ask you to keep the ladies in view? I’d hate for someone to frighten them.”
She stopped. He did too and looked down at her. She had to tip her head back to meet his gaze. “Of course I will watch them. Do you really think you have to ask?” She huffed away.
He easily caught up with her. “I had to say it for my own peace of mind. I’m determined to find whoever is responsible for the thefts, and that means I might be away from the place for hours at a time.”
She kept up a hurried pace.
He caught her arm and stopped her. “Eve, I find it’s easier to come right out and say what needs to be said. Guessing means one can be mistaken.”
&
nbsp; Her eyes gathered up the blue of the sky and flashed it at him, making him blink before the brightness. “So, you’re admitting that you might have been mistaken in deciding what I thought? How I felt? What I was prepared to do?”
He purposely pretended he thought she referred to seeing her in the garden, when she surely meant two years ago. “I saw you with the hoe and guessed you meant to use it to protect yourself if need be.”
She blinked, stepped back, and then shook her head. “Of course I was. I am not afraid to do what needs to be done.”
He searched her gaze. “There was a time you were afraid. Have you changed that much?” He wondered if it was possible.
She turned away to stare at the scenery. “There is a difference between fear that stops you from acting and fear that makes you cautious about doing things when the outcome is risky. And even fear that makes you count the cost and decide it’s worth the risk of taking that action.”
He mulled over her words. “I suppose there’s some truth in that.” He didn’t want to discuss it anymore. “Are you in a hurry to get back?”
“Not particularly.”
“Then let’s enjoy the evening.” He indicated the grassy slope and waited for her to sit, then parked himself beside her. From their perch, he could see the house and know if anyone approached.
She looked about. He could feel the tension leaving her and knew he was right when she took in a slow breath. “This is a beautiful country. Like your mother and aunt say, God has blessed you.”
“I agree. I remember the exact moment when I decided I wanted to own a ranch, though at the time I didn’t see it so clearly. I was helping Pa take care of the horses on the Landers’ estate. I loved the horses. Pa was good with them. He kept the stalls spotless. Said a good horse deserved a good home. I remember looking around at the big barn and thinking the horses had a better home than we did and said so to Pa. He said the house was warm and kept out the wind and the rain. What more could a man ask for? He left me to finish a stall while he got a pair of fine black horses hitched to a fine black buggy. That’s when I heard the owner and his daughter talking. I’d long admired the young lady from a distance and had recently gathered up my nerve to speak to her on several occasions. She had a warm smile and the way her eyes followed me as I worked, I knew she was interested in me.” The smile he gave Eve was self-deprecating. “I was nineteen years old and thinking I should get married. I thought how nice it would be to marry the Landers girl and have a share in the estate.
“She said to her pa that I seemed nice. Her father said, ‘He and his father are good with the animals, but they have no ambition. They’ll live and die working in my barn. No vision for the future.’
“Oh, how my insides burned at his evaluation. After that the young lady snubbed me every time I tried to talk to her until I got the message that I wasn’t good enough for someone like her.
“A little later, Pa caught pneumonia taking care of horses that the owner rode home late one night, overheated and with an injured leg. Pa was more concerned about the animals’ health than his own. I dare say the owners were too.
“I suppose I already knew that the house wasn’t ours. But when Pa died, Mr. Landers said he would need the place for someone to replace Pa. In order to provide a home for Ma and Aunt Alice I took over Pa’s job in the barn. But I vowed I would not live and die in that barn as Mr. Landers predicted and as Pa had done. I would get a place of my own. I saved enough to pay for Ma and Aunt Alice to live in a boardinghouse and set out to find gold.”
He stopped and gathered his thoughts. “You know the rest.”
“I’m glad things worked out for you.”
Neither of them moved as the sun dipped toward the west. He wondered how she viewed his story. “Do you understand how important it was for me to do what I did?”
She shifted about to look into his face, studying him as if searching for something she needed. “Do you remember the time we stood where we could see into the Landers’ house? They were having a big party. It was magical. Music came from one room. People laughed and talked. Everyone was having such a good time.”
“I remember. You said they looked so happy, as if they didn’t have any cares in the world.”
“And you said some are born with plenty. Others labor for it. I wanted to ask you about that, but someone noticed us, and we ran away.”
“What did you want to ask?”
“It felt to me like you connected having plenty with being happy, and it made me think you thought you had to work for both—happiness and whatever you saw as being plenty.”
She didn’t ask a question, but he heard one nonetheless.
“Maybe to a degree I thought that. I know I wasn’t happy being a lackey, being looked down on, not seen as worthy.”
Her eyes flickered with understanding. “You didn’t see yourself as worthy while working for the Landers. Perhaps because of what you’d overheard and the way that girl treated you afterwards.”
Again, no question voiced, but one inferred.
“I suppose there is truth in what you say.”
“How about now?” Her voice was soft as the evening air.
“What do you mean?”
“How do you see yourself now?”
He smiled widely as he looked about. “I’ve achieved my goal. I have proven—”
“You never had to prove anything, you know.” She lowered her head so he could no longer see her expression. “Not to me.” She spoke so softly he wasn’t sure he truly heard her. But he didn’t have the nerve to ask her to repeat herself.
She lifted her head. “That’s why you were so quick to believe I wouldn’t go with you. You expected I would say no. You expected I wouldn’t find you enough.”
He wanted to say that wasn’t the case, but there was far too much truth in the words she spoke. But that was then. Not now.
“It’s getting late.” But he didn’t rise.
“Yes, I should get back to the ladies.” She chuckled. “You think they’re hovering at the door watching us?”
He’d purposely chosen a spot where he could keep an eye on the house. “I doubt they’ve moved since we left.” He waved at the house.
“You’ll be riding out tomorrow to look around some more?”
“I’ll keep looking until I discover the culprit.” He wondered if there was more than one. They still sat. He felt her tension and wondered at the cause. “Why?”
“Will you be staying out overnight?” Her eyes had darkened, and he knew it wasn’t simply the fading of the evening light.
“I wasn’t planning to.” He wanted to be back home to check on the ladies’ safety.
“Good to hear.”
“Why is that?”
“I worry the intruder, or intruders if there is more than one, could sneak up while I sleep.”
“You’re fearful?”
She tipped her chin. “Only of intruders.”
“I remember one time you told me how you worried when your ma and pa were away. Seems to me you said that you couldn’t sleep until they came home safe and sound.”
She leaned back on her hands as if trying to distance herself from him. “That was when I was young. And I had good reason for worrying about their return. My pa had died. Timmy had gone and not returned. Ma died. Then we lost our home.” She pushed to her feet. “I think any child would have had fears. Our experiences shape our thoughts and our choices. Just as hearing what Mr. Landers thought and knowing you could lose your home at his whim gave you the goal of needing a place of your own. I admit I prefer caution to risk, safety to danger, security to adventure. That does not make me fearful. It makes me careful.”
He had gotten to his feet and met her fierce look.
“Don’t bother coming back home at night for my sake. I’ll take care of myself and your ma and aunt.” She stalked off.
He caught up to her in two strides. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
She stopped when he put
his hand on her shoulder. “What offends me is how you are so quick to judge my emotions and motives. Now, just as you did two years ago.” She shook off his hand and walked toward the house with her head high.
Had he misjudged her? And if so, did it change anything? Was he willing to open his heart to the risks? He almost laughed. Now who was choosing caution over risk?
Chapter 8
Eve prepared breakfast the next morning, determined not to let Cole know just how much he had annoyed her. Offended her even. How could they have been so close to marrying and yet understand each other so little?
She’d never before heard his story about Mr. Lander’s comment nor understood why going to the gold fields was so important. Now she did. It was a pathway to his goal of a having a place of his own.
Not until last night had she attempted to explain to him how the loss of her family had caused her to be thoughtful in her choices. She did not quickly jump into things, preferring to assess the risks and dangers. She did not welcome changes, having learned through harsh life experiences that they tended to be painful. She wondered if her words, spoken in haste, with a hefty dose of anger, had made sense to him.
She snorted to herself. Why did it matter if they did? Whatever they thought they’d had in the past was a distant memory.
Cole came in for the morning meal, leaving his horse tied at the veranda. He looked at her, but she kept her gaze averted and pretended to be very busy serving the food. A stack of pancakes, a jug of syrup, biscuits and gravy, and fried potatoes. Food enough to sustain a man who meant to be away for hours.
He waited until she sat down then cleared his throat.
She bowed her head, waiting for him to pray.
He sighed softly, then said grace. “Amen.”
She passed the food, smiling at the ladies.
Aunt Alice squinted at her. “Lovers’ quarrels should not go on too long.”
Aunt Nancy nodded. “So true. What does the Bible say? ‘Let not the sun go down on your anger.’ You two should have reconciled last night.”
Both ladies had confronted her as she helped them prepare for bed. They had seen how she and Cole appeared to argue before they headed for the house. Eve had put them off, simply saying they were only discussing the things they’d done together back in Verdun.