Heart of Eden

by Fyffe, Caroline

  John’s daughters are here. Is his son upstairs?

  Mavis saw him and waved him over. “Henry, would you like to join us?”

  The trust in their eyes almost did him in. Here he was, daydreaming about the beautiful woman in room six who claimed her son was their half brother. Does she believe he’s entitled to part of John’s fortune? How would I ever explain that? He’d pledged to John that he’d always look out for his girls. Wouldn’t John also want me to look after a son he never knew he had?

  “Thank you, but no. I’m on, er, I have to . . .”

  Mavis sat forward, concern in her eyes. “Karen told us about the poor little boy upstairs. How you fetched the doctor for him. How is he? If there’s anything we can do . . .”

  “They’re newcomers,” Emma added. “Came in on yesterday’s stage, just a day after us.” Her smile resembled John’s.

  Karen appeared with a small plate of cookies and set them on the table between the two young women. “You off again, Henry?”

  “Yes. To the icehouse.”

  Emma covered her mouth. “For the child?” She looked at her sister and then at Karen. “He’s quite sick, then?”

  “The doctor is with him as we speak. He has a high fever.”

  Karen’s brow creased. “Where’s she from?” she asked.

  Blast. He needed to shut his mouth and get moving. “I’m really not at liberty to say. You’ll have to ask her.”

  “You must be representing her,” Karen said. “Interesting.” The waitress had a habit of ferreting out information about anything or anyone in Eden.

  Mavis cocked her head, her concerned sympathy deepening. “Do you know her, Henry? Is she family? Maybe a sister or a cousin?”

  His intimate involvement would look that way. “No, no, nothing like that. Good evening, ladies,” he said and gave a polite nod. “I really must be on my way. Doctor needs that ice now.”

  And I really don’t want to give out any more information or be backed into a corner where I’ll have to hedge on the truth. That’s not the kind of man I am. But until I know more, I can hardly make a fair call to all concerned.

  Pivoting on his heel, he made for the door like a frightened boy. He welcomed the coolness of the night on his face. He cut between the buildings on the shortest route to the icehouse, located down by the river and behind the rocks opposite the Spanish Trail Cantina. Walking briskly, he crossed the road and weaved beside the Hole in the Floor saloon. Its name boasted of a urinal at the foot of the bar. It wasn’t exactly a hole, but more like a slanted trough to accommodate anyone who didn’t want to make the trip to the outhouse. Henry avoided the establishment like a sore tooth.

  The moon gave off enough light that he didn’t have any trouble seeing Saint Rose along the route. The half-French, half-Spanish priest stood in front of the adobe church, looking at the stars.

  “Padre?”

  The priest searched out Henry from the direction of his voice. “Ah, hello,” he said. “The beautiful evening made it impossible to stay inside.”

  “Yes. I noticed you’re stargazing. Are you looking for anything in particular?”

  “Everything in particular,” he said evasively. “But in reality, from my bedroom desk where I was reading, I noticed two shooting stars, and thought to take a walk. Since then, there’ve been two more.” He gave a small laugh. “Where’re you off to in such haste?” He looked down the road toward the Spanish Trail Cantina, the only business left in that direction.

  “Not the cantina. The icehouse. We have a sick child. The doctor sent me.”

  “I see. I will keep him in my prayers. What’s his name?”

  Henry swallowed. “Johnny.”

  There was a moment of pause. “We wouldn’t want to lose another John, now, would we? Please send word tomorrow on his condition.”

  “Will do,” Henry called over his shoulder as he rushed away. That’s strange. Two Johns? It was a coincidence, to be sure. Henry didn’t believe in signs. As a lawyer, he dealt in hard fact. Period.

  Sure you do. If that’s the case, why did the hair on the back of your neck prickle? Is Johnny really John’s son?

  If yes, they’d all been given a great gift. But how will the girls feel? And Blake? How would he handle this amazing discovery, if indeed Mrs. Smith’s story proved true? Henry had to be sure before anything could be said. He’d make Elizabeth understand. And what if she won’t agree? What if she insists on making her claim right away? Mavis and the rest are just coming to grips with losing their father and finding out he wasn’t the monster they’d been led to believe. They need time. And that’s exactly why I need to search out the truth. I’ll do my best to be as sure of the boy’s parentage as I can be before anything is said. Will I be able to talk Elizabeth into waiting?

  That was what he’d find out soon enough.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The velvety black sky glittered with stars as Belle and Nicole made their way from the house toward the bunkhouse, a savory, warm aroma wafting about on the air. When Belle had picked up a lantern to bring along, Nicole made a face but kept her comments to herself. The girl might be used to walking around in the dark mountains of Colorado, but Belle wasn’t. Who knew what could be lying in wait on the path? Compared to Philadelphia, this was true wilderness.

  It is difficult imagining Mother living here for any length of time.

  Freshening up had taken some doing. The water pump, which had been agreeable when she’d needed water to clean Moses’s battered face, had been cranky and pushed her God-given patience to the limit. She’d almost worked her arm out of the socket until Nicole stepped forward. With finesse born of experience, she had water splashing forth in seconds.

  Finished with her bird bath, Belle discovered Mavis had forgotten to send her shoes. She’d be forced to wear the heavy boots like the ranch hands wore beneath her dress. This is dinner in a bunkhouse. With a handful of rough-hewn men. Surely my footwear doesn’t matter.

  As they walked toward the bunkhouse, she held the light with one hand and her shawl with her other, being careful not to twist her ankle on a rock. Out in the corrals a horse nickered, followed by the howl of a coyote. Nicole hadn’t done a thing to prepare for supper except coil her thick brown hair into a French twist, which, in its messy way, looked very stylish. The girl had slipped on a leather coat with fringe along the arms and bottom. Westerny, but also soft and feminine.

  At the windmill, Nicole paused, plucked a blossom from a climbing vine, and stabbed it behind one ear.

  “That’s sweet,” Belle said, trying to fill the awkward silence. “And your jacket is attractive. I’ve not seen one like it before.”

  Nicole’s lips pursed in amusement. “Thank you. It was a Christmas present from my brother. Mr. Little, the old man who tans the leather, is a friend of mine. Sometimes I work at the tannery. He must have told Clint I’d been eyeing the coat.”

  They were making progress. Belle nodded, then directed her gaze back to the stars. Maybe if she got to know Nicole a little better, they could be friends. Belle was older; she’d make the first move.

  “Blake told me your brother is the sheriff of Eden?”

  Nicole glanced over. “Yep.”

  “But you’re so young. I’d think a sheriff would need to be a bit older, what with all the danger involved.”

  “He’s my half brother, so he’s a lot older. In his thirties.”

  Darn. Belle remembered that fact now that Nicole had pointed it out.

  “We had the same ma. When she died, I moved in with Clint. It’s not all that mysterious.”

  Her defensive tone made Belle reach out and touch her shoulder. The last thing she wanted was to make matters worse.

  Nicole stopped in her tracks. “Save your pity.”

  “I’m not pitying you. I’m just trying to get to know you better. So we can be friends.”

  Crossing the porch, Nicole took hold of the door handle and was about to step inside when Belle caught
her shoulder again. “Shouldn’t you knock? What if someone isn’t dressed?”

  Nicole gave an incredulous laugh. “Women expected in the bunkhouse for supper?” She snorted out another chortle. “And you don’t think they’re ready for us? Oh boy. You do have a lot to learn.” She turned back to the door and stepped inside.

  Feeling shy, Belle followed. She softly clicked the knotty pine closed as she kept her gaze riveted on the latch. What will I say to these men? She heartily wished she’d declined Blake’s invitation and eaten the loaf of bread Mavis had sent out. She’d also found a small crock of butter and preserves as well. That could have kept her until morning. Uncomfortable nerves skittered down her spine, and she knew she’d have to turn around sooner or later.

  She turned.

  The messy room she’d expected was nicely arranged, neat, inviting. And larger than she’d anticipated. The area wrapped around in the shape of an L. One candle burned in the center of a rectangular table, another on the fireplace mantel, and several lanterns burned around the room. At the turn that she figured led to the beds, a large colorfully woven curtain hung—perhaps an Aztec design—sectioning off the area.

  Tank stood at the stove with a large wooden spoon in hand. KT appeared as if he’d just stood from the chair behind him, and Trevor stepped out from behind the drawn curtain, a welcoming smile on his face as he worked the bright-red bandanna around his neck.

  Blake, hunkered down in front of the hearth, promptly stood and dusted his hands. It was apparent all the men had donned clean clothes, washed up, and combed their hair. There wasn’t a hat in sight.

  “Welcome, ladies,” Blake said, his gaze going directly to her shawl and then to Nicole. “May I take your wrap, Belle?” He strode forward, took the lantern from her hands, blew out the flame, and set it on the mantel. “And your coat, Nicole?”

  Belle drew the light shawl off her shoulders and handed him the garment. “Thank you,” she replied, keenly aware of the other men in the room.

  “My pleasure. But I do recall asking you two to wait for one of us to come fetch you. I was about to step out the door.”

  “We got impatient,” Nicole said, lifting one shoulder. “Are you mad?”

  He shook his head, a smile teasing his lips.

  My, he’s in a good mood tonight. She hadn’t known Blake long, yet she felt like she had; she was getting used to reading the slight changes in expression that signaled his mood. She glanced around.

  “How’s Moses?” She presumed his bed was behind the curtain with the rest of the men’s.

  “Sleeping again.” Trevor moved to stand beside Blake and her. “He’s pretty banged up. Tomorrow he’ll feel even worse. But keeping him in his bed when he’s awake has been difficult.”

  Nicole pranced over to the stove in the corner of the room that was clearly used as the kitchen, took up a folded towel, and lifted the lid off a large, cast-iron pot.

  “Hey, who gave you permission to peek?” Tank said, taking the hot lid and almost dropping it as he hurriedly slapped it back in place. “You’re gonna let out the heat. I’ve been working on this all afternoon.”

  “It’s not a soufflé,” she retorted in a razor-sharp tone. “It won’t fall and be ruined.”

  Blake put out his hand to them both. “No need to squabble. Belle, why don’t you have a seat over here? You too, Nicole. Trevor was just about to set the table.”

  “I was?”

  Blake sent him a glance.

  “I was.” The ranch hand laughed and went over to Tank. “You have a tablecloth somewhere? Blake wants the table to look nice.”

  Tank scratched his head.

  Belle took the seat Blake had intended and glanced around the room. The pie safe had several drawers below the two main doors. “Perhaps in there?” she said, pointing. “May I help? I’d like to.”

  “No,” all four men said at once.

  Disregarding their outburst, Belle stood. She’d never make it through tonight if she had to stay in that chair until dinnertime. She was too nervous. She crossed the room and opened the drawer in the pie safe. Asserting myself feels much better. There were several tablecloths. She chose a yellow one with tiny blue flowers and carried it to the table.

  “Well, I’ll be,” Trevor exhaled, looking astonished. “I’ve never opened that drawer before. I don’t ever recall us having a tablecloth either.”

  It’s not so different from corralling my sisters. As she shook out the cloth, Nicole lifted the candle. Belle applied the covering and smoothed out the wrinkles. Nicole replaced the brass candleholder and then shoved her hand into her pockets.

  She winked at Nicole. “Teamwork.”

  “What’s your fella think of you staying out here at the ranch tonight?” Trevor asked. “Seen him wanderin’ around town like a lost puppy. He staying in Eden? Or going back to Philadelphia?”

  With the stack of plates Tank had set out, Belle went back to the table and began to place them around. “Lesley is going home tomorrow.” Guilt at staying out here and not seeing him off on the stage edged in. “He has work there and nothing to do here. I plan to stay for six months and then return to Philadelphia as well.”

  There, I’ve said it. That’s the decision we reached, but why is it so difficult to voice? Once the six months had passed, she was free to do as she wished. Father wants us to be happy. His letter said he understood we might already have commitments of the heart. If Darvid hadn’t passed on, Mavis would have a difficult decision to make as well. As it was, Belle was the only one who seemed torn by the decisions at hand.

  Trevor looked surprised, Tank’s hands went directly to his hips, KT swiveled from feeding the small fire, and Blake’s eyes narrowed. None of them said a word.

  “He’s certainly understanding, this fella of yours.” Nicole lifted an innocent shoulder. “And you’re not even in town on his last night?” She made a small, disapproving sound in her throat and then circled around behind Tank.

  So much for friendship.

  “He understands,” she said a bit too forcefully. Who am I trying to convince? Them or me? “I never knew anything about the ranch until yesterday. Or about my father, until a few weeks ago. Lesley realizes I need time to come to accept all the changes in my life.” Does he really? “It’s not something one does in a day or two.”

  Her face heated, recalling their breakfast that morning. Shouldn’t I be more distressed at our parting? It feels like I should. After all we’ve been through and his being so considerate to make the trip with us. She could have gone back into town with her sisters, at least for the day, to say goodbye, but her mind had been set on staying at the ranch. Their ranch. Her ranch. Here she was, being heartless again. She could change that if she wanted. She knew she should, but would she?

  When her gaze locked with Nicole, one of the girl’s eyebrows reached for the wooden beams overhead. Even she knows how thoughtless I’ve been. If Belle had been more considerate, Nicole wouldn’t have had to make the trip and Tank wouldn’t have had to cook a fancy supper—all to feed her when she was too incompetent to use the old stove. She’d put them out because the view of those tall, distant mountains had woven a spell around her heart.

  “You don’t owe any explanations,” Blake said, looking uncomfortable. The whole room looked uncomfortable.

  Trevor brought over the salt and pepper shakers. “He’s right. You’re the boss now, along with Blake. We don’t mean any disrespect. Just making conversation. Wondering what to expect. If you marry Mr. Atkins, he’ll be one of our bosses along with Blake. No one here would like to see that happen, him being an outsider.”

  “Trevor!” Blake scolded. “Keep your thoughts to yourself. What Miss Brinkman decides to do with her life does not revolve around what anyone on this ranch thinks, and that includes you.”

  Tank ducked his head, and KT looked away.

  “Course not,” Trevor said. “All I meant was—”

  “Drop it.” Blake’s tone pinned Trevor to
the wall, and Belle actually quivered. “This is her first night on the ranch. Let’s let her enjoy the charm in peace.” He smiled at her as she set out the silverware. “We’ve already put her to work.”

  It was a moment before she realized the work comment was meant to be teasing. Everyone seemed to let out a sigh of relief. Nicole actually went over and patted Trevor’s back. The poor guy looked as if he’d just lost his best friend.

  “Dinner’s served,” Tank called, his face shining with pride.

  “Should I make a plate for Moses?” Belle asked, fearing her appetite had fled with the subject they’d just discussed. She should put herself to good use.

  “I just checked on him, and he’s still asleep.” Trevor stepped over the long bench at the table. “That morphine does a fine job. If I ever get banged up, I want some of that.”

  “Sleep’s the best thing for him.” She glanced at the table, wondering where to sit. “He’ll mend faster that way. Do you have assigned seats, or should I sit anywhere?”

  Blake motioned to the head of the table, next to where he stood.

  “I couldn’t.”

  There was that charming smile again. “You can and you will.”

  She inched toward him, a warm glow heating her insides. She chanced a look into his eyes. “Don’t you sit there?”

  “Not tonight.”

  Aware of the men’s gazes, as well as Nicole’s, Belle seated herself at the head while the rest used the benches along each side. There was plenty of room. The thought gave her pause—it was only because of the deserters, who were still out there.

  So much was happening so fast, Belle felt as if she’d lost her footing. Still, one glance around the friendly faces brought a smile to her lips. She’d figure it out. It would just take time, and she had six months.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Whaddaya mean you’re goin’ out of town?” Blake asked in surprise from the buckboard seat as he stared down into Henry’s face. He and Belle had just arrived in Eden, having gone into town for supplies. Exhausted, she sat next to him in silence after exchanging pleasantries with Henry. Three busy days at the ranch had passed in the blink of an eye, and the roundup was scheduled to begin the following morning. As much as Belle had taken to Gunner, and to riding in a Western saddle, Blake wondered if her interest in the ranch would wane as soon as the novelty wore off.