Saffron let out a deep sigh, her face softening. “Oh, I’m so relieved.”
“You didn’t like him?”
Saffron shook her head quickly. “I had my doubts, but would have supported anything you decided. He was a little stuffy, and I’m glad to hear that you feel this way.”
“Oh, my. Why?”
Saffron reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a note, handing it to Carol as she looked at her intently.
Carol reached for the note, ripping it open and glancing quickly at the letterhead of the hotel Dennis was staying. She read quickly and laughed as the letter dropped to her lap.
“He’s already left. He hopped the first stagecoach this morning and is off to San Diego.”
She hugged Saffron, unable to keep her relief at bay.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Saffron said as she pulled away and held Carol’s shoulders, searching her face.
“Saffron, truly I am. It couldn’t possibly be better.”
Saffron stood and crossed to the window, throwing it open to the warm summer breeze that streamed in. “Look, there’s Charlie in the tree out back. I think he agrees with you.”
Chapter 28
Will’s neck had never been so sore before. It wasn’t the first time he'd fallen asleep at his desk—this one the one in the corner of the blacksmith shop—but he didn't think he'd ever had such bad dreams. After he’d left Carol and Dennis at the Occidental and said goodbye to Mr. Archer, he just couldn't face going home. Spending time with Mr. Archer had reminded him of his Pa, and how different his ma had been since his father's accident. She’d become more and more like her sister, his Aunt Dorothy, somebody he never felt good about spending time with. Especially at a time like this, when he was feeling so low.
Carol was beautiful the night before, her hair falling across her shoulders. He remembered telling her he liked it that way, and his heart tugged that she'd worn it that way for someone else. But he really didn't have anyone to blame but himself. He never told her how he felt, and now it was too late.
He rolled his head around, trying to get the knots out of his neck and shoulders. He looked down at the drawings on the table—more robins. He was glad Mr. Archer had liked the ones he’d done of the swans, and he thought maybe Joe wouldn’t mind turning them into bookends. Mr. Archer had even suggested that they try making them out of silver. It had crossed his mind once or twice to try something with silver as it was so plentiful in Tombstone with the silver strike, and maybe now was the time.
He rubbed the back of his neck one more time and stood. He took a deep breath and crossed the shop to stoke the fire in the forge. Judging by the play of light on the street outside and the sounds of the people in town stirring he knew Joe would be coming in any time. He just hoped he wouldn't have to talk to him much. Joe always knew what he was thinking, and he wasn’t even sure if he could explain this one.
The water in the coffee pot had just started to boil when he heard Joe's key in the lock. He sat back down at his desk and arranged all of his drawings in a stack. He set them to the side of the table and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Well, look at you." Joe shrugged off his coat, hung it on the rack by the door and laid his hat on top. He rolled up the sleeves of his work shirt and crossed over to his leather apron, pulling it over his head and tying it behind his back. “Waited up for you last night. How’d it go with Mr. Archer?"
Will rested his chin in his hands as he leaned against the table. "Fine, I think." He reached for the drawing of the swan bookends on top and held it out to Joe. "Think we can make these?"
Joe crossed the shop and took the drawing from Will’s hand. He held it up to the light and cocked his head to the side. "Statues?"
"That's what Mr. Archer said, too. But, no. I was thinking more of bookends."
Joe looked at the drawing once again. "I guess we could try it. I've been wanting to try something like that but haven't had cause before now. How long do we have?"
Will stood, poured two cups of coffee and handed one to his brother. "Maybe a week or two. Seems like other things are kind of slow, though. I'd like to try."
Joe took the coffee and leaned up against the counter. "That's fine. So what's got you so riled up you didn't come home?" Joe asked as he sipped his coffee.
Will crossed over to the window and looked out in the direction of the Tombstone library, as he always did these days. "What makes you think I've got anything on my mind? I'm not riled up."
Will turned as Joe laughed and set his coffee on the counter. "We've had this shop together for a long time. And I've never seen you try to stoke the forge without the coal before. Not like you at all." Will looked toward the forge and hung his head. Joe was right. He’d never done anything that dumb before. He hadn’t even noticed when he was doing it.
"And what’s this a picture of? A robin?" Joe asked as he lifted up the picture of Charlie and held it to the light. "Oh, I think I see. Isn't this the bird that Carol talks about?"
Will snatched it out of his hands and laid it back on the table facedown. "Maybe."
Joe poured himself another cup of coffee and topped off Will’s. He set the coffee pot back down on the stove and sat down across from Will at the little table with a heavy sigh.
"Does she know how you feel about her?"
Will looked up at his brother and noticed how much he looked like their pa, his dark eyes full of concern. Will had always loved Joe, and he’d been the best big brother anybody could ever ask for. Especially after Pa had died, and Joe had had to step into that role.
"No. She's got a suitor in town, and there just doesn't seem to be any point. They were at the Occidental last night and Carol looked—well, happy."
"Next I suppose you're going to tell me that all you want is for her to be happy."
Will frowned and looked at his brother. "I guess I do, yes."
"Will, that may be what she thinks she wants. But how are you ever going to know if you don't tell her?"
"Not sure I can, Joe. Talking isn't my strong suit."
Joe held his belly as his head fell back with a loud laugh. "You don't have to tell me that, boy. That's not a secret."
Will decided not to argue that point. Carol knew he didn’t talk much, and maybe that was why she’d had such a nice time with Dennis. “I should have told her, but I didn’t.”
“You still can. Go talk to her. If you don’t say something, you’ll be sitting here forever and making my life miserable. Go the party at the Archers’. It’s your last chance.”
Will turned back to his drawings and took out the picture of Charlie. He could at least give her the picture. And maybe, just maybe, he might actually tell her how he felt.
Chapter 29
Will squared his shoulders and straightened his tie. He looked down at his jacket and brushed off some dust. He didn't think he'd ever been this nervous before. But he also thought he’d never forgive himself if he didn't say something to Carol before it was too late.
He took a deep breath and headed up from the stables toward the Archer’s sprawling ,white adobe ranch house. The sun was just setting and he stopped for a moment, looking beyond the trees up the driveway and toward the horizon. It was one of those beautiful Arizona sunsets, the sky streaked with orange and pink. Purple would be coming soon and he felt a sense of calm as he knew what he had to do. He just couldn't worry about the result.
Music wafted down the hill as he climbed. He wondered if Carol was already there, but as he reached for the handle of the door he heard her laugh. His stomach turned but he pulled the door open anyway and stepped inside.
He’d always loved Archer Ranch, and he felt another rush of calm pass through him as he walked through the parlor out toward the patio in the back where the party was being held. He thought if he was lucky, maybe Dennis wasn’t here yet and he could talk to Carol real quick. At least he hoped it would be real quick.
"Señor Will,"
Maria said as she backed out of the kitchen holding a platter full of Mexican food that smelled delicious. "How good to see you. It's been a very long time."
He reached out and took the heavy platter from Maria and she nodded her head in thanks. "Where you headed with this, Maria?" he asked as he followed her. It felt good to have something in his hands, something to do while he figured out the lay of the land. Maria had always been very kind to him and he wasn't sorry at all to be walking in with her.
"You know it's summer so we will be out on the patio. The music has just started and I think people are hungry," she said, her eyes twinkling. She was definitely in her element with this many people to feed.
"Just follow me, Señor Will,” she said as she breezed through the parlor and onto the patio.
As we walked onto the red tile and past the many pots full of flowers that Mrs. Archer had always been so fond of, he stopped short. There she was, sitting in her chair with wheels, a glass of lemonade in her hand. She sat under one of the big shade trees, the leaves rustling in the wind and blowing through her hair that fell down around her shoulders. He’d told her that he loved it that way, he remembered, and wondered if she had done it that way on purpose for Dennis. He shook the thought out of his head but he couldn't stop looking at her.
"Señor Will, if you stand there much longer the beans will get cold," Maria scolded him. He started after her again toward the food table, setting the platter down where she indicated she wanted it.
He rubbed the sweat from his palms as he nodded to Maria, his task complete. He turned back toward Carol and caught her eye as she said goodbye to Sage Archer and Dr. Folsom. He knew he’d heard her laugh before he came in, but now she frowned, her beautiful, crystal blue eyes clouded.
He stood, frozen in place as she pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at a tear. What could be wrong? If Dennis had broken her heart, he’d have to have a word or two with him—to say the least.
She looked away, and it was all he could do not to take her in his arms and wipe her tear away for her. Joe was right, and Mr. Archer was, too. At that moment, he knew that he loved her and no matter how difficult or painful it was, he’d have to tell her.
He took off his hat and set it on one of the hooks by the door. He strode toward her, his steps quick enough that he couldn’t change his mind.
He stood before her, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. She’d looked away when he came up, and he wasn’t at all sure she wanted to talk to him.
She twisted her handkerchief in her hands and looked up at him. The sadness in her clear blue eyes twisted his gut. He wanted more than anything to tell her that whatever it was that had made her cry, he’d fix it.
“Do you mind if I sit down?” he asked as she looked down at her hands.
She glanced up at him again and gave him a thin, weak smile. “I don’t think I’d be very good company right now, Will.”
Sweat beaded between his shoulder blades in the heat of the summer evening, and he took his coat off and hung it on the back of the chair next to her. “I don’t think that’s possible Carol. You’re always good company.”
He sat for a moment and waited for her to speak, like she always did. He glanced over at her and wasn’t quite sure what to do when nothing came. She seemed to be watching the dancers on the patio, and sadness radiated from her.
“Are you all right?” he asked finally, not able to bear her uncharacteristic silence.
“I’ll be fine,” she said as she looked out over the dance floor. He followed her gaze to see Sage speaking in hushed tones with the doctor.
“Carol, please tell me what’s wrong.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “If you tell me, maybe I can help. Maybe I can fix it.”
Carol’s eyes brimmed with tears as she turned toward Will. “Nobody can fix this. I just talked to the doctor and he said that there was nothing that I can do to walk again.”
Relief rushed through Will as she spoke. He imagined that it had been quite a blow to her, but for him—that didn’t matter at all. Now that he realized he loved her, her walking was the furthest thing from his mind. To him, she was beautiful inside and out. He just wished he could tell her.
An unwelcome thought popped into his head and he stiffened. “Is this about Dennis? Are you upset about telling him?”
Carol turned toward him, her brows furrowed. “Dennis?”
He pursed his lips. “Yes, Dennis. The suitor you had supper with last night at the Occidental.”
She shook her head slowly. “No. It wasn’t the same talking to him last night. It had been a long time since we’d corresponded, and I was prepared to tell him tonight that I’m not interested. I don’t feel about him the way someone should feel about a husband.”
Will hadn’t thought he could be any more relieved than he already was, but—he was. If Carol and Dennis weren’t courting, it might make it a bit easier for him. If he could tell her.
“So, if you’re not upset about Dennis, you’re disappointed about the news from the doctor?”
“Oh, Will. I don’t imagine you’d understand. But just the thought of possibly having a house, a husband, was thrilling. I’d hoped that maybe I could someday, too. But now, I’ll be broken forever.”
The word shot through his head and he couldn’t believe it. She thought of herself as broken? She could do just about anything she wanted, and she was the kindest, friendliest—and most talkative—person he’d ever met. How could she consider herself broken?
“Carol, I—that’s not true. You’re not broken. You never were.”
“I can’t explain it to you, Will. I am a burden to other people, day in and day out. I can’t manage on my own, and I could never manage a household. Never. I’m not fit for anyone, including Dennis.”
His heart froze at the pain in her voice. He could hardly bear it. Now would be a good time to tell her how he felt—maybe it might make her feel better.
“Carol, that’s not true. I’m sure there are many men who would love to be with you. You’re beautiful and funny and witty and—”
She closed her eyes and held up her hand to stop him. “It’s not that I believe no one would want me, but I can’t make anyone happy. I can’t have a family, I can’t be a wife. It just can’t work. With anyone. Even someone I loved and who loved me.”
She paused and looked over to him, and her pain seared his heart. He felt he could see all the way into her, and thought maybe she was talking about him. Could that be true? Could she love him? “Carol—”
“Please, Will, don’t. I have to accept the truth, and this is mine,” she said as she gripped the sides of the chair with wheels. “I appreciate your kindness. And I’d also like to say that I have appreciated our friendship very much. I don’t believe I’ve ever met a man as brilliant, talented and kind as you are. I’m not surprised you’re trying to cheer me up,” she said.
She reached over and placed her hand on his. It felt the same to him as it had the first time they’d brushed hands at the library, warm and calm and tingly at the same time. But he wanted to see the bright, cheery smile that had gone with it the first time.
“It’s hopeless, Will. There is nothing to be done. Would you mind leaving me alone for a bit while I think this through?”
Will was torn—should he go? Would he ever have another chance to tell her how he felt? He closed his eyes and tried to think of what to say—how to say it.
Finally, he patted Carol’s hand and stood. “Of course. I’ll leave you alone.”
Chapter 30
Carol’s breath hitched as Will walked away. Should she have told him how she felt about him? She’d meant to, but the news from the doctor had convinced her that it was no use. She’d never be able to make a man happy—even one she loved and admired as deeply as Will.
She hadn’t really known how she felt about Will until she’d met with Dennis, and as excited as she’d been to see him and as nice a time they’d had, it had only served
to point out to her that he wasn’t Will. He wasn’t the man who made her heart soar, made her laugh, believed in her and helped her at every turn.
And she’d intended to tell him, relieved that Dennis had decided to leave early and move on to his new life. One less difficult conversation to have, and they could remain friends. No hard feelings on either side, she trusted.
But now that she’d sent Will away, her heart was well and truly shattered. Not only had the doctor told her that she couldn’t walk, but he’d said he was fairly certain that she’d never have children. She couldn’t tell Will that—she just couldn’t. She wasn’t entirely clear that he felt the same way about her that she did for him, but that information on top of the other had just sent any hopes she had asunder.
As she watched him walk away, she struggled to breathe. But she also realized she loved him enough to let him go. He deserved a family, children and a wife who could actually cook for him. And she wanted him to have that, even though it couldn’t be with her.
Her head dropped into her hands as she forced herself to look away. The music picked up and people moved about the dance floor. She was glad that she’d spoken to Mr. Archer in private when she’d arrived and told him about Dennis. He’d nodded to her, his kind eyes twinkling. She thought of what he’d said and she’d been a bit confused.
“Good, my dear,” he’d said as he held her hands and bent down to peck her on the cheek. “He wasn’t the right one for you.”
She struggled with the thought that he may have meant Will and the awareness that she’d just ended it before it even had begun. But she was sure that she’d done the right thing, and she dried her eyes as she watched her friends spin on the patio under the warm summer breeze.
Carol, Bride of Archer Ranch: Sweet Western Historical Romance (Wild West Frontier Brides Book 6) Page 12