“It’s nobody’s business,” Isaac said.
“Some people might make it their business.”
“You can trust the Kemper family,” he said slowly. “And you can trust me.”
“I wish you would have told me you owned the barn.”
He pulled his gloves over his hands. “I didn’t want you to feel obligated.”
Her eyes studied his face for several moments as if she could determine whether she trusted him enough to leave the security of this place. The reality was that he could make her leave his barn, but he didn’t want to force her to go. He would simply stay here with her.
But she reached for her coat.
As Isaac extinguished the fire, Lavinia tied the hood of her coat over her head, and together they began to follow Josiah back to town.
The reward money would probably save the mine—and it would certainly help pay his miners until winter passed—but he wouldn’t contact Patrick Dittmar. Nor would he mention the article for now.
It was odd that Lavinia hadn’t mentioned her fiancé when he’d talked about his broken engagement. Perhaps she didn’t want to marry this Charles Mahler after all.
And if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t very fond of the thought of her marrying Charles Mahler either.
Maria Kemper was a feisty woman in her midthirties. She was dressed in a lovely white gown with dark red ribbons, and the smile that lit her brown eyes reminded Lavinia of her mother.
When she walked into the parlor of the Kemper’s two-story home, Maria glanced down at Lavinia’s torn travel gown and mud-soaked hem. In spite of her attempts to pin back her hair, Lavinia knew it must be a disaster. She hadn’t looked into a glass for days. The same mud that flecked her dress was probably smeared across her face as well.
She thought she might see ridicule in Maria’s eyes like she had seen in the eyes of her stepmother, but instead she saw compassion.
Her two children, Maria said, were playing upstairs with their new toys. She shooed her husband and Isaac out to the covered porch and waved Lavinia back toward the kitchen. Through an open doorway on the left, Lavinia saw a physician’s office with an exam table and a black bag on top of a desk. To the right was a closed door.
Maria reached for the doorknob. “My husband said you spent the night in Isaac’s old barn.”
“I didn’t know it was his.” Lavinia prayed this woman didn’t think she was trying to proposition Isaac.
Maria tsked, shaking her head. “That man has no sense when it comes to women. He should have brought you here instead.”
“It wasn’t his fault,” Lavinia said. “I insisted on staying in the barn.”
Maria shook her head again as she opened the door. “I don’t want to insult you either, but you shouldn’t be sleeping in a barn any time of the year, especially not during the winter.”
Before she could respond, Lavinia’s mouth fell open. On the other side of the door she saw one of the loveliest sights she’d seen since she left Omaha—a wood-encased metal tub, a toilet, and a bureau with a mirror. Maria turned on both faucets, and the steamy hot water mixed with the cold. As she added bath salts to the hot water, Lavinia basked in the floral-scented cloud that billowed up around her.
Maria opened a drawer in the bureau and retrieved a clean towel and washcloth. Then her gaze wandered back down Lavinia’s torn clothing. “Would you like to borrow one of my dresses?”
Lavinia shook her head. “No, thank you.”
Maria stepped toward the door, and Lavinia waited for her to insist that she wear a clean dress, but she didn’t. Instead, Maria said, “I’ll be right outside if you need anything else.”
Lavinia eyed the closed door and then looked down at her gown, at the lavender skirt streaked with coal dust and wet snow clinging in patches along the muddy hem. What was wrong with her? The woman was graciously offering to help her and she was too proud to take her assistance. She would like to wear a clean dress. Very much.
Why did she insist on being so stubborn?
Lavinia reached for the knob and opened up the door to find Maria nearby in the kitchen. “If it’s all right with you, I think I would like to borrow your dress, just for today.”
Minutes later, Maria returned with a lovely green wool dress, a matching jacket with black trim and lace collar, and clean underclothes. Lavinia hung the clothes beside the bureau, and then she unbuttoned her travel-worn gown and let it drop to the floor. She removed her underthings and left them in a pile on the floor before slipping into the bubbly water.
She wouldn’t put it past Patrick to spend his Christmas tromping up and down the Rocky Mountains searching for her, but he had no idea where she went, and the world west of Omaha was immense. All she had to do was stay hidden long enough for Mr. Tipton to contact her. Somehow she would manage until then.
The hot bath invigorated her, filling her again with strength. She was grateful for Maria’s offer to let her bathe and borrow her dress. And for Isaac’s help in bringing her food and allowing her to stay in his barn. Until she could repay them, she must humble herself and accept their help. And pray that Patrick wouldn’t be able to find her.
She sank deeper into the warm water.
No one in Aspen knew who she was. For now, she had nothing to fear.
Chapter 9
Josiah took a draw from his pipe, and the smoke wafted above the two wooden chairs on the covered porch. “I read a curious article in the News this morning.”
Isaac buttoned his coat to ward off the cold and then leaned back and propped up his boots on the white railing that circled the porch. “There are always curious articles in the News.”
“I haven’t read many articles about women missing from Omaha.”
Isaac stiffened. “I read the story.”
“And saw her picture?”
Isaac crossed his arms over his chest. “Of course.”
Josiah hiked his boots up onto the railing beside Isaac’s and tapped his pipe on the arm of his chair. “We have to contact her brother to let him know she’s safe.”
Isaac turned and glanced into the picture window behind them. “We can’t contact anyone until we know the reason she left.”
“Her brother is concerned about her—”
“Her stepbrother,” Isaac said, stopping him. “And we don’t know that he’s concerned.”
Josiah pondered his words for a moment. “What if she is unstable?”
Isaac pushed his heels against the banister, rocking back his chair. “She seems to be thinking quite clearly to me.”
Josiah’s eyebrows climbed. “I’m not sure how clear you’re thinking.”
Maria opened the front door. “You gentlemen can come inside now.”
Isaac stalled for a moment as he tried to sort out the confusing thoughts that collided in his mind. What if Josiah was right? What if Lavinia’s beauty mixed with her plight had clouded his judgment? Her stepbrother could be wracked with worry.
The aromas of sage and plum pudding flooded onto the porch, and he stepped toward the door.
“Uncle Isaac!” Josiah’s four-year-old son raced across the floor and leapt up into Isaac’s arms. Isaac spun Ezra around once and set him back on the rug.
Ezra’s sister, Elizabeth, was eight and much too mature to jump, so he extended his hand to her. “Good afternoon, Miss Elizabeth.”
She shook it quickly, and then she gave him a hug.
Ezra nodded toward the kitchen. “We have a woman visitor.”
“I know.”
Ezra lowered his voice. “Mama says we mustn’t ask too many questions.”
“Your mother wants to respect her privacy.”
“What’s privacy?” Elizabeth asked.
Maria stepped out of the kitchen, her hands on her hips. “Something no one in this family respects.”
The door squeaked behind her, and then Lavinia stepped into the room.
Isaac’s mouth fell open. He’d thought Lavinia pretty the firs
t time he saw her, but dressed in the fitted jacket and skirt, her damp hair pinned back, her green eyes glowing in the firelight, she looked stunning.
Josiah elbowed him. “You’re staring,” he mumbled.
Isaac cleared his throat and turned back to the children.
“It’s time to eat,” Maria announced with a clap of her hands.
The children rushed toward the dining room, the adults trailing closely behind. Isaac stopped at the doorway and forced himself to look at the table instead of the woman now standing next to him.
Colorful ribbons, pinecones and glass balls paraded down a silk runner in the middle of the table, and the centerpiece was a golden-brown goose on a silver platter, garnished with sprigs of pine and berries. There were crystal goblets, polished silver, and a feast of Christmas pudding, roasted potatoes, and mince pie.
Josiah pulled his wife close to his side. “You’ve outdone yourself.”
Maria blushed and gave a small shrug. “It is Christmas, after all.”
Elizabeth tugged on Josiah’s coat. “I helped, Papa.”
As Josiah enveloped both children in his arms, Isaac glanced over at Lavinia and saw the flash of envy in her eyes. Again he thought it odd that she hadn’t mentioned her fiancé when he’d shared his story about Rebecca this morning. Perhaps she still longed to be loved, like Josiah loved Maria.
Isaac pulled out the chairs for Lavinia and Elizabeth, and then Josiah blessed their meal and began carving the goose.
“Thank you for letting me spend Christmas here,” Lavinia said as she lifted her plate for a serving of the mince pie.
Maria smiled at her. “It is our pleasure to have you.”
Ezra reached for a roll and began spreading huckleberry jam on it. “Where do you come from?” he asked, but Maria hushed him before Lavinia replied.
Elizabeth scooted closer to Lavinia and attempted to whisper, though everyone at the table heard her words. “Are you an angel?”
Lavinia smiled. “I am not.”
“She looks like an angel,” Elizabeth said as she turned to Isaac. “Don’t you think she looks like one?”
He started to cough.
Maria passed the bowl of pudding to her daughter. “Let’s not pester our guests.”
Josiah lifted his drink. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Maria repeated.
Isaac lifted his glass with them, and when he glanced back toward Lavinia, she smiled at him. If he hadn’t read the newspaper story, he would have thought she was an angel as well.
An oil lamp flickered outside Lavinia’s bedroom window on the second floor of the Kempers’ house. When Maria asked her to stay the night, she didn’t resist. Even though she didn’t want to return to Omaha, she didn’t want to spend another night in Isaac’s barn either. Some might think it strange, but tonight as she basked under the warmth of a fur blanket and clean lilac-scented sheets, in the pillows and soft mattress, her heart was content.
She prayed as she watched the light. She had no money to leave Aspen or wire Mr. Tipton again, but if God was powerful enough to send His Son to the world, surely He could continue to guide her. First thing in the morning, she would visit the telegraph office to see if Mr. Tipton had sent a return reply. Then she would decide what to do next.
The Kempers had been incredibly kind to her, and Isaac—
The family had sung Christmas songs tonight around the fire, Maria accompanying them on the piano. While the others were watching the fire, she caught Isaac watching her, and the warmth in his gaze startled her. Usually when men looked at her, she saw greed, or in Patrick’s case, hatred. But not Isaac.
Patrick had said no one else except Charles would want to marry her unless a fortune was attached to their future. And she’d believed him. When men back in Omaha thought she would inherit the Starr estate, they’d promised her all sorts of outlandish things if she would marry them, but she’d refused each proposal, knowing she would only be trading one prison for another.
Not that she was considering marriage now—
She yanked the covers up to her chin, glad no one else was privy to her silly thoughts.
She’d heard Isaac and Josiah whispering about the Coronado, and Isaac said the mine would be shut down the first of February if he didn’t find a vein of silver … or another investor. If Patrick offered a reward for her return—and Isaac found out about it—everything would change between them.
The Kemper children adored Isaac, and she understood why. Even though he held an important position at the mine, he cared for those around him. He treated these children with kindness and brought food to a stranger who’d hidden herself away in his barn. Isaac felt sorry for her, that was all, and she was grateful for his concern. She may enjoy his company, but he didn’t feel anything except perhaps pity for her.
As her eyes grew heavy, the image of Josiah and Maria flashed through her mind. The admiration that flowed easily between the two of them was like the sweet love she’d seen between her parents when she was a girl. Charles never looked at her like that, nor would he. He didn’t seem to see her at all.
She glanced back out the window one more time at the snow falling softly outside the glass. What would it feel like to have Isaac slip his arm around her shoulders and tenderly kiss her cheek or even her lips?
She shivered again, but this time it wasn’t from the cold.
Chapter 10
Lavinia stood paralyzed on the sidewalk in Aspen, her heart thundering under her heavy coat. Her eyes were fixed on the man inside the telegraph office and his crested gold ring that flashed in the light.
How had Patrick found her?
She had been in Aspen for almost a week now, hiding out in the Kempers’ home, and she’d begun to think Patrick would never locate her. Had the Kempers wired her stepbrother? But how would they have known—
The oiled curl of Patrick’s mustache rose and fell quickly as he talked in earnest with the operator at the counter. Then her stepbrother stepped back toward the window, and she swiveled before he turned around, picking up the skirt of her borrowed dress to rush toward the courthouse.
Would the government officials in Aspen really give her a ticket back home? If so, she would get on the next train. Patrick could search every mountain in Colorado for her, and she—
She didn’t know where she would hide when Patrick returned to Nebraska, but she would sort that out later.
“Kathryn!” a man shouted behind her.
She didn’t realize at first that he was calling for her, but when Isaac said her name again, she stopped.
He hurried to her side. “Maria said you had gone out—”
She glanced over his shoulder. The door of the telegraph office was beginning to open. “I can’t stay here.”
Isaac looked back at the telegraph office as Patrick stepped onto the street.
Her hands trembling, Lavinia lifted her skirts again and whirled toward the courthouse, but she’d only taken a step when Isaac put his arm around her waist. She jumped, startled by his touch.
“Walk slowly,” he whispered as he guided her away from the telegraph office. “Is it Patrick?”
She stared up at him, questions tearing through her. “How—how do you know about him?”
“We will talk later.” He slowed her pace by the weight of his hand. “If we rush, he will surely guess.”
Even though everything within her screamed to flee, she and Isaac stopped in front of the hat shop, and he pointed at the window.
“We’re going to stroll down this street like an old married couple,” he said calmly as if they were discussing the purchase of a new hat. “And we are not going to look back.”
Her voice shook. “What if he stops us?”
He stepped toward the next window. “Why are you afraid of this man?”
Answers spun in her head. She feared Patrick’s anger, the power he had over her, the hatred that festered inside him. “I’m afraid he will hurt me,” she fin
ally said.
When he looked down at her, she saw the tenderness in his gaze again, but this time it was infused with strength. “I won’t let him.”
Would Isaac really be able to protect her from Patrick? When her gaze locked in his, she nodded slowly, and a ray of hope flickered inside her. Most men crumbled in a confrontation with Patrick, but it seemed he had no power over Isaac. Perhaps she and Isaac could withstand her stepbrother together.
But then again, what if Patrick offered Isaac money to look the other way? Few men in Omaha would turn down Patrick’s offer, and she couldn’t blame Isaac if he took money as well for himself or for his mine.
But she wanted Isaac to be different from other men. She wanted him to care more about her than about what he could get from Patrick.
Isaac turned away from the store window, but she hesitated. She could walk slowly by herself, all the way to the courthouse, but Isaac was here, willing to help her. She didn’t have to do this alone.
She reached for his arm and followed his lead down the snowy sidewalk, willing her feet to stroll alongside his. When they reached the Jerome Hotel, Isaac held open the door and she stepped inside. They climbed the staircase to a sitting area on the third floor, and Isaac glanced out the window. “He’s going into Cora’s Boarding.”
“She’ll tell him that I’m in Aspen—”
“I believe he already knows.”
Of course he did, but the thought still made her heart race again. “I have to get on the next train.”
He held her again in his gaze. “I don’t want you to run again, Lavinia.”
The racing inside her chest stopped as her given name reverberated in her head. She lifted her hand from his arm and let it drop to her side. “How do you know my name?”
He reached into his pocket and unfolded a piece of newspaper. Then he smoothed it across a polished sideboard. “The same way Patrick probably found you.”
She glanced down at the paper and saw a sketch of her face. And the offer of a reward for her return.
The WESTWARD Christmas BRIDES COLLECTION: 9 Historical Romances Answer the Call of the American West Page 18