by Jillian Hart
“Thanks for the advice, Aumaleigh. I hear you have a bit of a romance going on with that new widower in town.”
“Not a romance,” she corrected, because it was only the truth. She was proud of herself for not even sounding defensive. “He simply helped me into my buggy. That’s all.”
“I hope he is interested in you.” Lawrence snapped his reins, and his donkey stepped forward. “Maybe he’s in need of more than a friend too.”
She chose not to argue. What good would it do? Besides, Lawrence meant well. She waved goodbye and sent Buttons trotting down the lane. The road was dark and empty up ahead (thank goodness). Luck was with her. She didn’t come across anyone else. When she saw the lights of town, she let out a relieved sigh. In hardly any time at all she would be home.
“Hi, Aumaleigh!” A friendly male voice called out in the gathering darkness. “You must be on your way home.”
“Yes, thanks, Tyler.” She drew Buttons to a stop to wait for the horse and buckboard to approach. “I hardly saw you at the wedding.”
“I was there for the meal but left right after.” Harnessing jingled as he pulled his horse, Clancy, to a stop. “Father had this big deal he had to put together. He’s not one to put off making money for any reason.”
“True. I’ve known Lance for a long time.” She stared down the road, where the lights of town gleamed like a beacon. She could make out Fred stepping out onto the boardwalk and locking the post office door behind him. “Why didn’t you tell me about Gabriel Daniels moving in next door? You could have warned me. Surely you know the history.”
“I do, but it wasn’t my story to tell. Mr. Daniels asked me to keep it confidential, so I did.” Tyler’s tone rang sincere. “After hearing about you two dancing at the wedding—”
“The wedding?” she interrupted, heart rat-tat-tatting in her chest. What was he talking about? The waltz in the kitchen when she’d been breathlessly, horribly in his arms? Did people know about that too?
“And after your romantic moment in town with him today, or so I hear.” His voice warmed. “I guess things are going well after all with you two. I’m off to have supper with Magnolia and the girls. Do you want to come? I’m sure they’d love to have you.”
“I’d love it too, but I have things to do at my new house. It takes a lot of work to settle in.”
“All right. Have a good evening.”
“You, too.” She waved, continuing on her way.
How many people knew about the dance in the kitchen? What about her nieces? Of course they’d probably heard it all by now. How was she ever going to be able to face them? They knew far too much about her old mistakes.
“Howdy there, Aumaleigh.” Milo pulled his horse to a stop, faintly outlined by the lights from the remaining stores still open in town. “Guess you’ve heard the news.”
“About Dobson’s Bakery coming to town?” The best defense was a good offense. If she could keep the sheriff from mentioning those troublesome Gabriel rumors, then perhaps she could get home without having to discuss it again.
“No, we found the hideout of our local robbers. Just missed nabbing them. Don’t worry, we’re on their trail. Those boys won’t be free for long.”
“That’s great news. That means people around here are going to be safer. It was scary not knowing where those robbers would strike next. You know how concerned I was about my nieces.”
“You weren’t alone,” he assured her. “We’ll be able to return the furniture in a few days. Just waiting for a sketch artist from the county to come and document everything.”
“The girls will be relieved, I’m sure.” She thought of other victims of the robbers. “Can I ask, who were they? Escaped convicts or outlaws on the run?”
“We think they’re George Klemp’s sons.” Milo shrugged those dependable shoulders of his. “We won’t know for sure until a telegram I sent comes back with an answer. Beckett said Klemp sometimes talked about his two sons when he was employed at the Rocking M. No one around here had ever met them when George lived here.”
“George Klemp.” Her stomach turned cold. He was the man who’d aided and abetted Ernest, Verbena’s former stalker. He might be in jail now, but she’d never be able to understand how coldly and ruthlessly he’d turned against her nieces. “It’s scary to think how much we used to trust him on the ranch. I guess you never really know what’s inside a person.”
“I think that’s largely true,” Milo agreed. “But sometimes, if you look deep enough, you find what’s really there. Maybe that’s true with you and Gabriel Daniels.”
“What? I—” She’d been blindsided, she hadn’t seen that coming.
But Milo mercifully moved on, tipping his hat to her. “Have a good night, Aumaleigh.”
Honestly. It was a sad day when the news of the captured robbers was nothing compared to a man (Gabriel) helping her (an uninterested Aumaleigh) into a buggy. Next time she just might push him into the mud and get into the buggy by herself.
No, that would just cause more rumors and speculation.
She shook her head. That’s what she got for living in a small town. She snapped the reins, sending Buttons into a fast walk.
Dottie stepped out of the bakery, locked the door and lifted a hand in greeting. “Hi, Aumaleigh!”
“Hi, Dottie.” Aumaleigh waved and offered the girl a friendly smile, but no way was she stopping. That would only give the sweet girl a chance to ask about Gabriel. She did the same thing with Elise Hutchinson, one of the girls’ friends, who looked startled at being caught in the dark side street.
Whew. Almost home. She turned down the residential street, listening to the squish of the wheels in the muddy lane. Houses sat back on the tree-lined street, windows brightly lit showing scenes of the families inside—Ma cooking supper, kids running around in the parlor, Pa taking off his coat, home from a long day’s work.
She’d never had the chance at a domestic life like that. Perhaps that’s why her heart always warmed, squeezing with longing. In truth, she was angry with herself, not Gabriel. He’d been able to move on, and as much as she wanted to blame him for that too, that wasn’t fair.
The squeak of the buggy wheels and the jangle of the harness took her back. Memories gripped her, hurling her back through the decades to a night just like this.
Stars winked to life in a black velvet sky. Streams of clouds blotted out the crescent moon, allowing only glimpses. Aumaleigh’s joy drained away like water from a leaky bucket the moment they rounded the corner. This, their second date, was at an end.
“I didn’t mean to get you back so late.” Gabriel’s baritone dipped, low and caring.
Caring. She would give up the world to have him continue feeling that way for her. Never had she thought she would be sitting on a buckboard seat next to a good and handsome man—a man interested in her, Aumaleigh McPhee. “It’s all right. We were just having fun. We lost track of time.”
“That was my fault. I should have kept an eye on my pocket watch.” He pulled Sully and Stu to a stop. “We were having fun with all the animals.”
“I loved it.” She’d always been a sucker for animals, and being introduced to the barn cats, the dogs, the goat, the baby calves and the horses on the ranch where Gabriel worked had been great fun. “I’m a country girl at heart.”
“So I see.” Tender those words. He turned toward her in the dark, leaning in, blotting out her view of the sky. There was only him—wonderful, funny, kind, great Gabriel. She tilted her head toward him, her lips ready for the sweet caress of his kiss.
“Aumaleigh!” Mother’s sharp, scolding voice shattered the moment, coming out of nowhere.
Aumaleigh jumped, startled, and hopped onto her feet. Guilt battered her. She stood there—standing in his buckboard—like an idiot, not knowing what to do as Mother and Father bounded out of the dark driveway and onto the road.
“Get down here right this minute, young lady!” Maureen charged toward her, angrily pointin
g at the ground. She radiated fury. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re supposed to be in your room. Winston, take her back to the house.”
Aumaleigh found herself on the ground. She didn’t remember jumping down. Shame kept her eyes lowered as Father grabbed her by the back of the collar and dragged her up the road. She stumbled alongside him, hot tears burning her eyes. Mother’s shrill voice rose and fell, but she couldn’t hear the words because her heart was beating in her ears so loud she couldn’t hear anything but her own heartbreak.
What was Gabriel thinking? Probably withering under the blistering tongue of her mother, taking it like a gentleman but thinking, whew, glad I’m rid of that Aumaleigh. Or was he feeling sorry for her?
That was worse. It would be unbearable for him to know the truth, to feel pity for her, so desperate to love him, to have a romance of her own, that she’d defied her parents, disobeyed their authority and snuck away like the liar she was just to go out with him.
“When I tell you to do something, you do it.” Father’s temper rose with each pounding step. “Now get back to the house and get to work in the kitchen. No supper, no sleep. You’ll be cleaning all night. No daughter of mine is going to act like a whore right under my nose. Do you hear me?”
“Aumaleigh. Aumaleigh.” A voice broke into her thoughts. “Are you okay?”
She blinked, realizing she’d been driving without really seeing where she was going. Clint Redmond was in the bakery’s delivery wagon, clearly finishing up his route for the day. She blushed. “Yes, I’m fine. Guess I have a lot on my mind.”
“That’s obvious.” The kindly man tipped his hat. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, thank you.” She could have hugged him for not bringing up the rumors about her and Gabriel. Clint merely wished her a good evening and drove on, the empty wagon rattling as he went down the dark road.
She drove past the Montgomery’s grand, sprawling home, wondering how things were going to work out between Magnolia and her mother-in-law-to-be. Aumaleigh remembered all that her own mother had put Gabriel through during their engagement. It was a wonder he’d wanted her at all.
She turned down the winding road, following the river for a spell. The warm night smelled like growing grass and spring. Cherry blossoms sifted over her as she pulled up her drive. There, in the break between the trees, she caught a glimpse of light—of Gabriel’s home.
Was it wrong that she pulled Buttons to a stop and stared? If she squinted, she could just make out a man’s silhouette moving in the corral. Gabriel, backlit by the lantern inside the barn, walked with the same lumbering, unhurried strides as he had as a young man—his shoulders squared, his back straight, his limbs relaxed.
Her fingertips buzzed, remembering the feel of his hand in hers. Against her will, caring sparked to life in her chest. Just a small spark, a momentary flicker, but she couldn’t pretend it hadn’t existed.
She snapped the reins and sent Buttons trotting up the drive.
Chapter Eight
“Good night, Pa.” Leigh poked her head into his den. “You aren’t going to stay up late, are you?”
“I’ll be right up.” He dragged his attention away from the novel he was reading and shifted in his new leather chair. “You seem awful happy, considering you are so far away from your beloved beau.”
“I know! I moaned through half the trip here.”
“Only half?” He arched a brow, chuckling when she did.
“Okay, it’s true. I miss him, but it’s more important that I’m here with you. You know nothing about setting up a household, Pa. It’s a good thing you have me.”
“Yes, it surely is. What would I do without you?” A father’s love burned hard in his chest. She’d always had him wrapped around her little finger. “Go on up. I just want to finish this chapter. I’m almost done.”
“Okay, but I know you. You get caught up in those books.” Leigh flashed her smile. “You want your beauty sleep. I saw what went on with you and Miss Aumaleigh.”
“Oh, you did? That wasn’t any of your business, young lady. Didn’t I give you explicit instructions to go away?”
“Yes, but you know me. I’m nosy and I’m a bad daughter.” And not even a wink of remorse. She leaned against the door frame and waggled her brows. “Everyone was talking about it. All the ladies in the dry goods store were practically plastered against the window watching you help Aumaleigh into her buggy. They said it was about time she let someone romance her.”
“I see.” Let. That one word stabbed at him, sharp as a knife, hitting his conscience. “Did the ladies say why she hasn’t let anyone close?”
“Well, one lady, who looked very miserable, by the way, said Aumaleigh was a man hater. But I don’t think that’s true. Do you?”
“No.” His voice cracked, betraying him. Aumaleigh had never been the type to hate anyone, even when they deserved it.
“Another lady said that it was Miss Aumaleigh’s mother’s fault. That she drove away any possible suitor even before he could try to beau Miss Aumaleigh.” Leigh paused, scrunching up her face as she contemplated that. “Do you suppose that could be true? Why would a mother do that to her own daughter?”
“Why, indeed.” Guilt twisted hard, making it difficult to breathe. “Not all mothers are like yours was.”
“Ma was the best lady on earth.” Leigh smiled and looked ready to cry in the same moment. “I still miss her so much.”
“Me too, baby.” Grief hit him too. Full of emotions, none of which he wanted to feel, he stared into the fire. The flames had gone down, licking low and lazy over the charred remains of wood. “Go on up to bed. You need your rest if you want to have enough energy to run me ragged tomorrow.”
“Yes, I have plans that involve shopping, spending your money and doing something about your nearly bare kitchen. If Aunt Josslyn hadn’t donated a few old pots and pans, you’d be eating cold gruel and bread.”
“Glad you’re here to fix that for me.”
“Me, too! Good night, Pa.” She whirled away, her skirt swishing, her petticoats rustling. She left brightness behind her that stuck in his heart.
He returned his attention to his book, but the words made no sense. They were just letters on the page. He sighed because he knew the reason why. Now Aumaleigh was back in his mind, thanks to Leigh, and his conscience wouldn’t let go.
He stared out the window into the dark. He couldn’t see her house from here because of the trees but that didn’t stop his mind from conjuring up the memory of her this afternoon. No longer the young girl she’d been with the bubbling laughter and the quiet hope in her eyes. He didn’t like seeing her so changed. He didn’t much like what life—and likely her mother—had done to her.
Memory pulled him back. How miserable he’d been after her mother had sent him on his way, giving him a tongue lashing he would never forget. What he’d taken away from it was that Aumaleigh’s parents were not going to let their only daughter waste herself on a humble, simple man like him.
Fine, so he hadn’t been wealthy. He wasn’t finely educated. But no one would have cared for her more. He was sure about that. Even after a few dates, his heart had already been hers.
It had been a physical blow being separated from her. He spotted her in town a few days later, catching sight of her across the street when she’d been sitting quietly beside one of her family’s household workers in a wagon.
She hadn’t seen him. Everything about her posture—head down, shoulders slightly slumped, motionless—spoke of her misery too. Had he made her situation at home worse? That troubled him greatly.
He’d considered then that maybe the best thing for her would be to let his affection go. Then she wouldn’t be in conflict with her family or looking so unhappy he couldn’t stand it.
Even the memory still troubled him. Gabriel snapped his book shut. Well, it didn’t look like he was going to get any more reading done tonight.
After banking the fire,
he made his way through the house, turning out lights as he went. Leigh’s bedroom door was closed, a thin bar of light shone around the door. She was likely up reading. Wishing he could concentrate enough to do the same, he shut his door behind him and stood in the silence, in the dark.
And there, like a sign from above, was the smallest flicker of light. It flashed through his window as the wind outside stirred the trees. Aumaleigh. Alone in her house, was she thinking of him?
His hand tingled from when they’d touched. And he remembered, how sweetly he remembered… the whisper of her footstep in the grass, the faint scent of roses on the breeze, the hot puff of summer air as she walked beneath the starry sky.
“Josslyn gave me your note.” She stopped in the meadow. Somewhere an owl hooted and another owl answered. “You wanted to talk to me?”
“Yes. Thanks for coming.”
“I don’t know what there is to say.” She bowed her head, nothing but platinum and shadows in the starlight. “Maybe you’re looking for an apology.”
“For what?”
“My mother. For agreeing to go out with you.” She reminded him of an injured deer he’d seen once, too afraid to come close to the cow feeder but hungry enough to want to try.
Maybe it was then that he’d first started to really love her. Not the blush of falling in love with someone, of that thrill in your veins and the rush in your heart of first love, but of something deeper. This was his first glimpse of her heart, of the wounds there.
He thought of her mother’s acid tongue. “I wanted to apologize to you.”
“To me?” Surprised, she raised her slender shoulders in a confused sort of shrug.
“For getting you in trouble like that. I didn’t know about your parents. It never occurred to me to ask for their permission.”
“Oh.” She stood still and never moved a muscle. Did she know how lost she looked? That the hope he’d once seen in her eyes was gone. It was breaking his heart.
Josslyn had told him a few things. About how the McPhees treated their only daughter, viewing her more as property to be owned and controlled than a gift to love. She was valued more for the work she could do and the savings in labor for the family than for the joy she could bring them.