Heart of Eden

by Fyffe, Caroline

  Henry lifted a hand and shaded his eyes against the morning sun. A wagon rattled by in the street behind him. Shouting and laughter came from Poor Fred’s Saloon even though it wasn’t yet seven in the morning. “Exactly what I said. I have business I need to straighten out in Denver. Tomorrow morning, I’m starting for Santa Fe to catch the train.”

  “Can’t it wait?” Blake tipped his head toward Belle, who was a bit rumpled in her three-day-old clothes. She’d given him a mean eye earlier when he told her the cattle didn’t care if she looked presentable, so not to fuss. She’d been unusually quiet on the wagon ride in. Is she missing the amenities of the hotel—or Mr. Atkins? Does she regret her decision to stay?

  Nicole had ridden her horse alongside the wagon, but as soon as they were within a mile of town, she’d taken off to who knew where. The rest of the sisters had yet to make a showing out at the ranch, each day sending a note explaining why their arrival had been delayed. One day, Lavinia had had a headache and didn’t want to suffer through the ride out, and another day, they were catching up on their correspondence and writing letters home to friends. That sounded suspect. Were Mavis and the other three put off after one glimpse of the ranch? Had the house been too rustic? The men too rough? The whole idea of the cattle ranch operation too daunting? He didn’t know what to expect when he saw them.

  Henry frowned. “Unfortunately, it can’t wait.”

  “What is it?”

  “Just business. I’m not at liberty to say.”

  Strange. Blake knew of nothing that would take precedence over John’s daughters in the attorney’s thoughts and business. Whatever put that frown on his face meant trouble. But Henry wasn’t going to spill his guts here in front of Belle, or he would have already. Blake would corner him later, when they were alone. Maybe it had to do with the search for the girls’ guardians, Vernon and Velma Crowdaire. Perhaps he didn’t want to say anything and upset Belle.

  “Have you forgotten we’re starting the foundation next week?” Blake asked. “Fall is just around the corner, Henry. If we want to be finished before the onset of winter, we need to get moving. That doesn’t leave much time.”

  “You’ll have to deal with it.”

  “Fine, then. I’ll watch over construction as well as bring in a thousand head of beef shorthanded. That’s not asking much. You run off to Timbuktu or wherever it is you have to go,” he said with a short tone of his own.

  I can’t handle all the sisters. Belle has been taxing enough with all her questions and suggestions—and almost getting kicked by a steer, smashed in the head by the beam Tank was carrying on his shoulder, and scalded by trying to pick up a hot coffeepot. And yet, she hasn’t complained about a single thing. Actually, if I admit it, I’m a bit impressed.

  He sighed. “Any news on Praig? Clint bring him in?”

  Henry shook his head. “Nothing. It’s like he disappeared into thin air. Perhaps he realizes what will happen when you get hold of him. Maybe he’s gone for good.”

  “I don’t think so.” Pushed by agitation inside, Blake rested his foot on the brake.

  “Look, Blake, in the midst of the events of the last three days, I actually forgot about breaking ground on the house. Perhaps I can put the trip off one week, if you think that might help.”

  “A week would help a great deal. I’d appreciate that.”

  “I’m not making any promises just yet,” Henry went on. “But it might be doable.”

  Belle flicked a piece of dust from her shirttail. “In Mavis’s last note, she mentioned a small boy at the hotel who’s sick. How is he, Henry? Are they staying in town long? I saw them, if indeed it’s them, from the window as they got off the stagecoach.”

  Henry’s face seemed to tighten even more.

  What is going on? Belle wouldn’t have picked up on the change in Henry’s usual mannerisms, but Blake sure did.

  “One question at a time, Belle,” Henry said, annoyance back in his tone. “That would be Johnny Smith. He’s doing better. He and his mother, Elizabeth, are from—out of town. I don’t know if they’re planning on staying in Eden, since I just met her myself. The doctor isn’t sure what made the boy sick, but today he’s doing much better.”

  By the hurt look on Belle’s face, Henry’s tone had cut her to the quick.

  Henry’s face softened. “They had been staying at the hotel, but his mother took a room at the boardinghouse. I imagine they’ll be there for a time.”

  Belle perked up. “That’s good news. From what I’ve seen, Eden needs all the women it can get.”

  A voice called out, “Belle!”

  Giddy happiness slammed Belle when she saw Mavis and Lavinia rushing toward the buckboard. She stood up and put out her hand, which Henry took to assist her down. After three days on the ranch—and her pride in tatters—she’d learned there was no shame in asking for help. She was drained and dirty. She was going straight to the hotel for a hot bath and planned to soak until the water turned to ice.

  She and Mavis fell into each other’s arms. Her sisters were such a welcome sight—especially after all the hours with snippy Nicole. None of them had been away from one another overnight until Mavis had married and Katie had gone to the normal school. Could I really leave them here and return to Philadelphia in six months?

  That sentiment was pushed away when Mavis looked her up and down with a critical eye.

  “Belle. You look awful.”

  Belle couldn’t stop herself; she glanced back at Blake. It was the same thing she’d been telling him all morning. He shrugged and looked away.

  “I know I do! I can’t wait to sink into a tub of bubbles up to my chin. And wash my hair. I love a nice white-vinegar-and-chamomile tea rinse. It’s going to feel so nice after days of sun and wind.” She reached up and felt the tangled mess. “The weather has punished it horribly. After I’m finished, I’ll have a steaming cup of tea and a double order of toast and jam.” She rubbed her backside, not caring if the men saw her. “My bottom and legs ache horribly from riding astride. You just wait. It’s nothing like sidesaddle. I’m actually looking forward to tightening my corset and donning a dress.”

  Lavinia hooked her arm through Belle’s, and Mavis did the same on the other side. They started toward the hotel, but Belle stopped, pulling them to a halt. She turned back to the wagon.

  “Blake, how long does loading supplies take? I don’t want to hold you up.” From beneath the brim of his Stetson, his intense gaze made her senses spring to life. Her sore muscles and mussed hair weren’t the only things that had taken a beating out at the ranch. So had her sanity. “Or . . . or do you need my help?” she asked tentatively. Please say no. “I did come into town in place of KT and told you I’d do anything you needed.”

  “You riding back with me?”

  “You know I am.”

  “Thought you may have changed your mind when you got back to Eden.”

  She threw back her shoulders.

  He chuckled. “I can handle the supplies on my own. Take some time off. Get your bath. As a matter of fact, stay in town and rest up.”

  The thought was tempting, but she forced herself to reply, “Nope. I said I’m going back to the ranch with you, and I am. But as long as I’m here, I’d like to take advantage of a few . . . things, if you don’t mind. Will you possibly be busy for two hours?”

  His mouth twitched. “Stay two days. I don’t mind.”

  Henry shrugged. “I wouldn’t turn that down, Belle.”

  “I can’t. The roundup is set to begin in the morning. I intend to be there. Just tell me how long you’ll be loading and whatnot, and I’ll find the wagon wherever you are. I won’t be late.”

  She didn’t miss the amused look on Henry’s face. He seemed to have gotten over whatever had caused his mood swing. She’d never seen him like that before, but then, she’d only known him four days.

  “Fine, then,” Blake said in that voice that had a hint of lazy attraction. “How’s eleven sound? Th
at give you enough time to—”

  “Plenty.” An overwhelming sense of happiness welled up inside Belle. There’d been challenges the last few days, that was for sure. Dodging puddles on the streets of Philadelphia was nothing compared to the constant dangers of life on the ranch. Or the dispiriting realization that Nicole is ten times better at every chore than I could ever dream of being. Still, as she’d watched how tirelessly Blake worked at everything from rehanging a gate to caring for Moses, she’d developed an admiration for the life and business he’d built with her father. She didn’t really have the words to describe their partnership or what they were to each other. Family didn’t quite seem right yet. And neither, she realized during their talk at the gravesites, did brother. Whether Blake was giving her instructions, haranguing her about being careful around the horses, or praising her for a simple deed any child could do, she felt something she wasn’t yet sure about. But she was eager to see where it led.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Laughter wafted out of the open door of Poor Fred’s Saloon. Santiago Alvarado stopped on the boardwalk in front of the establishment and watched John’s daughters gather in the street as Henry helped the one dressed in denims down from Blake’s wagon. He’d heard the news about their arrival more than once, but this was his first sighting. Standing in the shadows, he was sure they wouldn’t catch him staring.

  No one could claim John hadn’t done a fine job siring such a herd. Dios! There isn’t an ugly one among them. Two more black-clad young women exited the hotel, only to pull up when they saw their three sisters in the street. As they dashed forward, their cheerful voices caused a stir inside Santiago. This was what family was supposed to be. Unable to stop a smile, he leaned a shoulder against a corner post. Not often did Eden see such beauty all in one place. God has blessed me this day.

  “Santiago,” a voice called from inside the saloon. Homer, a town local, stumbled out. “Want a drink? Something better than that Mexican whiskey you serve at your place? First one’s on me.” The man’s breath, now that he was close, was enough to drop a horse to his knees. Santiago discreetly took a step back.

  “Gracias, but no. I have business to attend to.” He bent his head in the direction of the wagon. “Stopped for a moment to enjoy the show.”

  The drunk leaned forward, catching his balance with a palm to the porch rail. “Would ya looky at them girls,” Homer slurred. He laughed loudly. “I hope it ain’t a hallucination.”

  One young woman in particular caught Santiago’s eye. From her silliness, jumping around and hugging her sisters, he’d guess her to be the youngest. Her light hair sparkled in the sun, and her smile was infectious. Something caught her eye, and she stilled. Santiago followed her gaze to a broken-down Chinese peddler.

  Homer laughed again, and she glanced their way. The vividness of her blue eyes sent a shock through Santiago’s person. Most likely she couldn’t see him under the overhang of the building, but he smiled anyway, just in case. He’d been told by more than one pretty senorita that his smile was deadly and his face would charm an angel. He’d never really cared all that much about his looks, but now, here, right before his eyes, was a prize to be won. Gringos be damned.

  From the turn in the road, the stranger he’d been waiting for came riding up the street, a black bandanna tied to his saddle horn as a sign of identification. Santiago watched him smile and politely doff his hat to Brinkman’s daughters. As the rider drew closer, Santiago stepped onto the dirt road nonchalantly, as if crossing was his only intention.

  “Buried behind the old barn on White Hawk Road,” he whispered as the rider passed closely. He took one quick glance up to see if the man had understood. The man dipped his chin and kept going. The whole exchange took no more than a couple of seconds. On the other side of the street, Santiago stopped, turned back, and returned his attention to the young women who had by then moved to the entrance of the hotel.

  Blake Harding was pulling the buckboard into the side street between the mercantile and Poor Fred’s. Henry, at the top of the stairs, disappeared into his office. The rest of the town was quiet.

  Anxiety slithered down Santiago’s spine. He’d been careful; nobody suspected a thing. Still, he turned and scanned the street, more thoroughly this time. Padre Francisco stood by the sheriff’s office. He carried his tall walking stick that resembled a shepherd’s staff, and his long brown robe fell to the ground, stopping just above the man’s boots. The wide-brimmed straw hat he wore didn’t cover his eyes. When their gazes met, the priest smiled and dipped his chin in acknowledgment.

  He saw! And is making a point that I know he saw. No. That’s not possible. My back was to him when I gave the message. He couldn’t see my mouth. It’s all speculation.

  Santiago looked away. Who cares if the padre knew anyway? He wouldn’t say anything. Santiago was certain of that from the many years they’d known each other, and the many scrapes he and Demetrio had gotten into as boys. Padre Francisco had an inventive way of looking at things.

  A hot pain sliced through Santiago’s heart. Any thought of his older brother brought such anguish that Santiago found functioning difficult. Demetrio shouldn’t be locked up like an animal. The small cells at Sugar House Penitentiary were dug into the ground, the access at the top the only available light. At night the guards lowered down a tub for the men to do their business.

  It was true that Demetrio had thrown in with an unscrupulous group of men, but when they went to rob a Santa Fe business, he’d had no knowledge they intended to kill the owner in retribution for something else. One witness testified that Demetrio, who’d never been convicted of any other crimes, had been waiting with the horses when the shopkeeper was murdered, and so he’d gotten a lighter sentence. But fifteen years in prison was still more than he deserved. Today, Santiago had set a plan in motion. To make up for the guilt he felt at not telling their father when Demetrio first began disobeying small laws. For now, Santiago could breathe easier. And that’s what he intended to do.

  He drifted toward the hotel. “Hola.” He looked at the young woman who had caught his eye. He wasn’t wearing a hat, or he’d have swept it from his head.

  Her face deepened in color. “Hello,” she replied softly. The other girls quieted and turned to gaze at him, all pretty, but different from one another. The oldest one stepped forward. “Hello, sir. I’m Mavis Applebee, and these are my sisters.”

  Again, he made a small bow with his head. “Yes, I know.” He warmly smiled and let his gaze stray back to the youngest, the one with the sky-blue eyes and honey-colored hair.

  Mrs. Applebee pointed to the sister dressed like a nice-looking young man. She might be wearing the clothes of a vaquero, but there was no disguising what was underneath. “This is Belle.”

  He smiled and dipped his chin. “Hola.”

  They all seemed to like his Spanish, because they smiled and tittered every time a Spanish word rolled off his tongue.

  “This is Emma, Lavinia, and Katie.”

  Ahh, Katie. I will know you better. You will be mine . . .

  Katie blushed as if she could hear his thoughts. “We’re pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. . . .”

  “Alvarado. Santiago Alvarado. Our fathers knew each other well. John made a point to open his doors to us. He hired me and my older brother many times. He was a good man. My condolences.” Daringly, he picked up Katie’s soft hand and, bending forward, kissed the back of it, lingering much longer than was proper. He didn’t even need to look up to hear the stir he’d created.

  “Mr. Alvarado.” The panic in Mrs. Applebee’s voice almost made him chuckle.

  “Perdóname,” he said, and quickly followed with the English: “Forgive me. I was overcome with the sunshine in your sister’s eyes.”

  Across the street, Blake came out of the mercantile with a large sack resting on his shoulder. He stopped and stared. Santiago knew that look all too well. After a moment, Blake moved on around the corner to where his wagon wa
s parked.

  “Mr. Harding would like me to walk on, but I’m of a mind to invite you all to tea.” He looked to the door of the hotel and the café inside. “My treat.”

  “That’s a kind offer, but I need to rest,” Belle replied, her eyelids drooping.

  “Ahh, the vaquero is weary.” Again, he let Katie see his gaze lingering on her face, but kept it far from her lips. “But I will hold you to another time. My father and I own a business in town. The Spanish Trail Cantina, on the southeast end of Eden. Come see us, if you are brave enough.” He winked and they all smiled—even Mrs. Applebee, who acted like a mother hen.

  “We will, Mr. Alvarado,” Katie said, her voice not as timid as it had been just a moment ago.

  “Good. I will watch for you.” He gave one more small bow and walked off, feeling ten feet tall. How many men have been brave enough to approach John’s daughters? Not one that he’d seen today. And not only that, but invite them to tea? Santiago Alvarado, or Lion Heart, as Demetrio liked to call him, had staked his claim.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Belle, are you ready for more hot water?” Lavinia called from the other side of the cloth screen. “The delivery boy just brought some.”

  Belle lolled in the oblong silver tub the hotel had sent up a half hour ago. With her washed hair wrapped in a towel, she scrunched down into the bubbles as far as she could go, letting the lavender-scented water soothe away her aches and pains.

  “Please. There’s just enough room for one more bucket. Then I must get out and dress. I feel guilty for not helping Blake, at least a little. Knowing him, he’ll finish up early and leave me behind without a second thought. I have no illusions about that man.”