She started at one end of the street at the Yellow Rose Café and worked her way through every establishment, but the answer was always the same: no one was hiring. She crossed the street, hurried passed Bobbie’s Saloon, and knocked on the doctor’s door.
A man about thirty years old with the blondest hair she had ever seen opened the door. “May I help you? I’m Doctor Bright.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Dr. Bright. My name is Gemma Maguire, and I’m looking for a job.”
“Well come on in.” He stepped aside.
She entered and stepped around a stack of crates. There were boxes everywhere. “You haven’t had time to set up.”
“No, but I could use some help. I’m staying at Mrs. Miller’s while I get organized.” He gestured at the chaotic office. “I have a feeling it’ll be awhile before I get the living quarters set up.”
“That’s why I need a job, so I can afford to stay at the boarding house too.”
“When would you like to start?”
“I need to pack my things, but I could be here in the morning if that’s fine?” She held her breath waiting for his answer.
A smile broke out across his face. “Well, I’ll see you in the morning then.”
She returned his smile. “I’ll be here. Thank you so much!” Nearly giddy with the first excitement she had felt in ages, she opened the door and let herself out.
Next, she stopped at the boarding house to see if there was a room for her.
“Well… I don’t know…” Mrs. Miller seemed hesitant. “Most of my boarders are gentlemen…”
“Please,” said Gemma. “I will be working for Dr. Bright, and I need a place to live.”
“Oh, well, in that case…” Mrs. Miller’s face brightened, and she became more enthusiastic. “I could reduce the rent if you’d help with the cleaning after supper.”
“That would be wonderful. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Happy but tired, she set out for the Kavanagh ranch. She bet there’d be many happy men when she told them of her plans. Her feet were killing her before she was halfway back, but she didn’t have a choice; she had to finish the walk, so she kept going. Tears of both pain and joy stung her eyes when finally, she was there. She opened the door, walked to the sofa, and sat down. Her feet stung, and she was afraid if she took her shoes off, she’d never get them back on when her feet swelled.
She needed water, but she’d wait until she caught her breath. A sense of not being alone stole over her. She felt his gaze on her before she turned her head. Teagan was home.
“Where have you been?”
She knew that barely calm voice. It was the one he used when he really wanted to yell.
She sat up straighter and pushed out her chin. “I found a job and a place to live. I start tomorrow.”
“Why?”
The question deflated a bit of her bravado. “Teagan… I’m not wanted here. I’m not your problem, and after what happened between us, I highly doubt you really want me here. Brogan told me everything about how you joined up and were reckless and Quinn getting hurt. It’s my fault, and I can’t stay here knowing that.” She heaved a sigh. “If only I’d been braver and disobeyed my father, but if I had, you might be dead. So, I’m not sure that would have been the answer.” She stood. “I need to get some water and then pack. I do appreciate all you’ve done for me.”
“What are you talking about?” He finally seemed to find his voice. “Are you insane? You can’t be traipsing all over with Richard out there. How I feel makes no difference. And Brogan doesn’t speak for me. Your safety comes first!”
“No, it doesn’t,” she told him as a wave of sadness struck. “You come first, and me being here isn’t good for you!”
“Now I know you’ve been dropped on your head!”
“You are infur—” She could barely gasp as his lips covered hers.
The kiss felt angry at first, but it gentled, and his lips felt so right, so unbearably right. He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. She dropped her gaze and stared at a button on his shirt. The pain was raw, and her eyes smarted. This was the way they should have been, but it was too late now.
Stifling a cry, Gemma pulled away and ran to her room. She closed the door and leaned against it, her heart pounding hard against her chest. Now what?
* * *
She put the last of her things in the back of the wagon. Teagan had left the house, slamming the door behind him when she told everyone she was leaving. The rest of breakfast had been silent. Quinn was going to drive her. The others didn’t seem to care much except for Brogan who wore a look of victory.
It was for the best. She couldn’t look at Teagan without thinking what if? She couldn’t tell him the reason her father wanted him dead either. It wasn’t just Teagan; he wanted all Kavanaghs dead. When her mother finally talked about it before she died, she said her heart was ground to dust and she always felt that she never gave Gemma any love, since she didn’t have any left to give. It was hard to hear, and it’d been hard to bear. Her mother hadn’t been affectionate, and it had hurt.
“Ready?” Quinn asked.
“Yes, let me just grab my wrap and thank Dolly.”
The older woman smiled. “I have a feeling you’ll be back. You take care of yourself and remember you have friends here.”
“I know.” Gemma went out the door and quietly closed it behind her. She had no plans to ever come back.
Quinn wasn’t one for conversation, so the silence didn’t bother her. He stopped the wagon in front of Mrs. Miller’s then jumped to the ground and helped Gemma down. As she turned to survey her surroundings, a familiar figure hustled across the street and smiled at her.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“Dr. Bright, this is my neighbor, Quinn Kavanagh.”
“Call me Joshua. It’s nice to meet you, Quinn.” They shook hands, and she could tell by the look in his eyes that Quinn was sizing up the doctor.
“Treat her right,” Quinn said softly. “And if there is any trouble or that man Richard comes for her, come get us. She shouldn’t be living in town, but if you will protect her, then I guess it’s fine.”
“What man?” Mrs. Miller demanded in a harsh tone as she walked down her front steps with her eyes narrowed.
“The man who married her but was already married,” Quinn explained. “The one who left with all her money. He was spotted yesterday.”
Gemma never wanted to kick anyone as hard as she did Quinn. She could tell by Mrs. Miller’s frown she’d lost her place to live, and now Joshua also looked indecisive.
“Protect her? I don’t have a firearm,” Joshua said.
Quinn smiled and turned his triumphant gaze on Gemma. Anger welled as the truth dawned on her. He’d done the whole thing on purpose. And didn’t he look quite pleased with himself, standing there with a wide grin on his face.
Both the doctor and Mrs. Miller talked at the same time. “I don’t think—”
Gemma held her hand up. “I understand. No hard feelings.” She walked to the wagon and climbed up. Flames of embarrassment licked at her face. She stared at her hands, too humiliated to have anyone see her discomfort.
Quinn whistled a happy tune as he drove them right out of town. She stole a glance at him and seethed. He was still happy with himself. Even if some people didn’t know that Richard had already been married, they all would now. She’d find no work in town—or friends. She would bet the whole debacle with Quinn messing up her plan was Teagan’s idea. If he was trying to get back at her, he’d done a good job.
She stared out at the scenery as the wagon brought them closer and closer to the Kavanaghs. She didn’t know what else to do. She’d dug so many holes in her yard looking for her father’s buried money, but she hadn’t found any in a long time.
Well, she still had her cellar and garden, so she wouldn’t starve. Tomorrow she was going home.
Once they were in front of the house, she jumped down without w
aiting for help and went around the woods on the side of the house. Being alone was what she craved. She followed a dirt path until she came to the big rock next to the stream and sat on it. Why? Why had they done it? Revenge? It was a good enough reason, she supposed. Teagan had probably laughed the whole time she was loading the wagon and then waited with glee for her plans to be destroyed. It wasn’t fair. She had never asked for his help.
Seeing him was too hard. Being around him was near impossible. If things had been different, they would have had children by now… Or perhaps not. She hadn’t enjoyed being a wife, and she never wanted to be touched again. She kicked at the dirt as she realized she had nothing, not even a pot to cook with, at her place. Could it have been Teagan who’d cleared out her house so she couldn’t live there? She’d dismissed the possibility earlier, but it made more sense than anything else she’d come up with. She’d stay out of his way. The war had left many places empty. She could scavenge the things she needed. But no… She shook her head. It had been too long; there’d be nothing left to scavenge.
She had one choice. The same choice she’d had before; she needed to get married. Finding a widower with children would be the best option. She knew a few, Dolly probably knew others. and if she didn’t give away her intent, the Kavanaghs might know a few. She’d play Teagan’s game but just until she found a man who would only want a mother for his children.
They were probably wondering where she was; she needed to get back. Teagan might think he’d won, and that wouldn’t do.
* * *
After walking into the house, she helped herself to a glass of water and then sat down in the front room. Quinn must have taken care of the horses and the wagon, and by now, her belongings were probably back in the bedroom she had used. She had plenty of sewing she could do. She drank her water and brought the glass into the kitchen. Looking out the window, she noted everyone seemed to be busy. They sure had many people working for them as well as themselves. They must be doing well. It was nice they had rebuilt; few folks were able to pick up where they had left off.
She’d tried her best but to no avail. Oh well, it was all in the past. A sigh slipped out. If only that were true. Richard was out there. What was his plan and why? Maybe if she looked around a bit more, she’d find whatever Richard was after. And that banker—he was in on it too. It must be something Richard had found out about after he had left, but she didn’t have a notion what it might be.
Movement caught her eye. Teagan was headed to the house. She quickly walked away from the window and headed into her room. She’d get her sewing. There was no way she’d allow him to think he’d won. It would be over her dead body before he knew how miserable he’d made her.
Chapter Five
It had been two weeks since her humiliating ride into town. Gemma had spent that time sewing and gathering information. She found out about four possible widowers she might approach. There was Ed Calver and his three boys ages eight months, two years, and five years old. He was a farmer and raised pigs. His house was said to be sound.
There was also John Dew, who she had met before. He was nice enough, but he never smiled. He had five children; ages three years old up to seven years old. Three boys and two girls. He raised cattle on his “patch of dirt”. Shea wasn’t impressed with the man at all. Supposedly he made no repairs and the children ran around in rags.
Adam Johnson had a nice house and a promising ranch. He had four children ranging in age from a one-year-old to seven years old. The oldest was a girl. He had supposedly sworn he’d never marry again.
Last was Cal Meagher and his brood of six children. The ages went from three months to six years old and there were twins in there somewhere, all boys. It was said he was desperate. His ranch was nice, and he had a housekeeper, but he wanted a mother for the children.
She’d never been around children, so Cal and his six boys seemed a bit daunting. Luckily there was a barn raising at his ranch the next day and Gemma had been busy making pies and putting the last touches on her new yellow calico dress. She’d sewn a bonnet to match and for a change she was excited about something. She would try to get to know each man. She didn’t want to be choosey, but she had to be sure she’d find a man who would never touch her. How was she to approach that subject?
She’d prayed while she was sewing, and she felt good about herself. She hadn’t knowingly sinned with Richard. There was bound to be talk, but she’d have to stay strong and ignore it. Plus, she’d be with the Kavanaghs. That alone would dissuade most from making remarks.
She hummed as she stepped into the kitchen to put the pies in the pie safe. But she stopped short with a gasp at the sight that awaited her. One piece had been taken out of each of the six pies. She shook her head. What had happened? There was only one dirty plate and fork… And all her hard work for naught. She wanted to cry but that feeling quickly passed as anger rose. Who would do such a thing? Of course, she had a ranch full of suspects.
Did they want to keep her at home? Well, that would not work. She was still attending, pies or no pies. She went to the window and tried to see who was around, but she didn’t see anyone, which was strange. There was always someone around. She turned, grabbed her pies, and one by one put them gently into the pie safe. She wouldn’t waste them just because someone had ruined them. Disgusted, she shook her head and left the kitchen.
There had been tension in the house between her and Teagan and a few of the brothers didn’t seem thrilled she was there. But Brogan was the only one who had been vocal about it, and he didn’t care who was around when he opened his mouth.
There was also tension between Teagan and Brogan. She needed to leave before she destroyed their family. Her house had been watched for the last week and a half, but Teagan had finally put an end to that. Now he had men fixing the place up and shoring up the barn during the day. Maybe he could get more money for doing those things when he sold the land.
There had been some happy years for her there, but the happiness had gone away when she had been forced to refuse Teagan’s marriage proposal. All she had ever wanted was to be happy, but it didn’t happen for her. Gemma wandered upstairs and into her room. It was a bright and cheerful room. It was a lighter green color, the color of a fern. She picked up her yellow dress, wanting to be sure there wasn’t a single wrinkle in it. But the dress fell apart in her hands, and she couldn’t contain her outcry.
It had been ripped apart and there would be no repairing it. Even the bonnet had a nasty tear in it. Her hands shook as she examined each piece. Taking a deep breath, she walked down the stairs and out the back door. She didn’t stop until she got to the creek, and then the tears poured down her face. Someone really hated her and wanted her gone.
Teagan hadn’t done it. He wasn’t mean like that. When he was mad, he made it known outright. She had to leave. No way could she live with such hatred. Her house was probably done enough that she could live there. She turned toward the Kavanagh house but couldn’t bring herself to go back. She’d go the longer way to her house by following the creek. Until Teagan said otherwise, she’d assume it was hers. The door was most certainly fixed by now, and that was all she needed. Her shotgun was still hidden as far as she knew, and she needed to work on her garden.
It was just as well she wasn’t going to the barn raising, since the Kavanaghs wouldn’t be offering her any protection as she’d once thought. But she sure wished she had someone’s shoulder to cry on. Loneliness filled her before she even got halfway to her empty house. Hopefully, the workmen would be gone by the time she got there. And at least her feet didn’t hurt as much and they weren’t bleeding. It had been foolish to run away with none of her things, but she’d be just fine. She could do this.
After the garden was taken care of and fenced in better, she’d go after her cattle. She could sell some. Then she’d have the money to make payments to Teagan, and perhaps she need not rush into another marriage. Sometimes having a plan made her feel better, but it didn�
��t this time. It didn’t really matter what she did. No one cared. If she kept to herself and didn’t cause trouble, she’d be forgotten once again.
The house came into view, and she stopped and stared. She’d never seen it look so fine. Not even when her parents had been alive. So much of the wood had been replaced it was almost new. She walked to the front, and a sob bubbled out of her throat. The steps were fixed and whitewashed, and the door was a new one. The windows looked new too. That crazy man… Teagan shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. There was even wood chopped and stacked.
It seemed strange to walk up fixed steps and open the new door. The floor was nailed down, and as she stared at it in wonder, more tears fell. Her horse blanket was still there, folded in the corner. She’d bring it with her to the cellar. There was no sense staying at the house tonight; they’d just come and get her.
She grabbed her shotgun and blanket and started out for her garden and the root cellar. Perhaps she’d been too proud of her pies and her dress. It wasn’t good to be too prideful. Too bad she didn’t have a Bible in her cellar. She had food, though, and she had stored water there too. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep but it would do and she would be safe.
Usually she enjoyed the pleasant walk, but today her heart had no joy in it. She kept her rifle with her as she weeded her garden. She’d have enough to get her through winter once she picked and put them up, preserved for the cold days. For now, there was enough to pick to fill her growling stomach. She pulled opened the door and climbed down the makeshift steps to the cellar.
She could sense something was wrong.
* * *
“Which one of you boneheads ate the pie?” Teagan was livid. “Who eats one slice out of each pie? Someone who didn’t want Gemma to have anything to bring to the barn raising tomorrow.”
Teagan: Cowboy Strong: The Kabvanagh Brothers Book One Page 4