“My apologies,” Ida Rose quickly said. “I did not mean to nearly barrel into you.”
“That is quite all right,” she smiled. “I am afraid I was not doing a very good job of paying attention myself. Were you dropping off your mail?”
“Yes, just one letter.”
“As am I.” She raised a hand with a letter in it and curiously studied Ida Rose’s face. “Are you new to town?”
“Yes, Ma'am. Fresh off the stagecoach. It has been a little over a week.”
Her brown eyes went wide. “Delightful! My name is Gemma Reed. It is a pleasure to meet you. Where do you hail from?”
“New York.”
Gemma Reed’s mouth opened in surprise. “As do I!”
“That is wonderful,” Ida Rose genuinely answered. “I must admit, Miss Reed...” She noticed the ring on Gemma’s finger and corrected herself. “Mrs. Reed… You are the first lady I have seen around here that I believe to be of my own age.”
Gemma rolled her eyes. “Oh, I know! It can become so horribly boring without women here, can it not?”
Laughter bubbled from Ida Rose. Gemma seemed so happy and feisty. She could not believe her luck. “Yes, it has been rather difficult.”
Her brow furrowed. “But you came here regardless. May I inquire as to why?”
“To marry.”
Gemma let out a little gasp. “Are you Thomas Adkins’ fiancée?”
“Yes. You know him?”
“My husband does. I mostly know of him. But listen! I came here for the very same reason as you.”
Ida Rose hesitated, not yet positive they were speaking of the same thing.
“Wait here.” Gemma squeezed Ida Rose’s arm. “Let me drop this letter off and I will be back as quickly as possible.”
Ida Rose stayed where she was, occupying herself by watching the rebuilding of a house across the street. Shouts and hammering rang out through the town, making it seem as if it were larger and more populated than it really was.
In hardly any time at all, Gemma Reed returned. “Let us walk.”
Ida Rose obliged, falling into step with Gemma. They made their way down the block, going toward the end of town that housed the church. The buildings here were farther apart and there were less people.
“I would like to quickly share my story with you,” Gemma quietly said. “You see, I was a mail-order bride, too.”
Ida Rose’s feet stilled. “You were?”
Gemma nodded eagerly, her brown eyes dancing with excitement. “Oh, yes. Can you believe it? We are both from the same city, and now we have come here for the same purpose.”
Ida Rose could not help but stare. There was such a sophisticated air to Gemma Reed. She held herself with perfect posture, talked like a lady of high breeding, and the details on her dress were finer than any Ida Rose would have thought to find in Wyoming. Did women like her truly move across the country to marry strangers?
So many questions filled Ida Rose’s mind. She worked quickly to select the first one. “When did you arrive here?”
“Just last year,” Gemma smiled. “And I had heard Thomas Adkins was ordering a wife, but I did not know when she was arriving.”
“This is...”
“Wonderful?”
Ida Rose laughed. “Yes. It is.”
“Good.” Gemma linked her arm in Ida Rose’s and began walking once more. “I think so as well. Now, tell me everything about yourself. What street did you live on in New York? Is your family still there? What do you think of Shallow Springs? Have you been down to the river yet? Oh, it’s so magical in the winter! It freezes straight through and you can skate right over it!”
They walked on, going past the church and looping the town once more. Gemma filled Ida Rose’s head with glorious tales of life in Shallow Springs and Ida Rose told Gemma all about her father’s death, her sisters’ and mother’s whereabouts, and how trying life had been so far in Shallow Springs.
Gemma listened intently, offering condolences and advice wherever necessary. With each word they shared, more weight was lifted from Ida Rose’s heart. Time stopped and she felt free. She had made a friend—a lovely young woman who had to be one of the sweetest people in the world.
For the first time, Ida Rose felt without a doubt that she would be very happy in Shallow Springs.
8
8. Tom
Chapter Eight
Tom planted his hands on his hips and looked out across the vast field of alfalfa hay. “We’re going to have a good harvest this year.”
“Yes, sir,” Eddie agreed. He sat on his haunches, fanning himself with his hat. They’d spent the whole morning plowing the northwest field, getting it ready for the next round of planting. Spring was done nipping at their heels, having finally arrived. Sweet smells wafted up from the earth wherever they turned. The potatoes had done well this year. So had the asparagus. The alfalfa looked promising and, Lord willing, the corn would have a good run as well.
“Let’s get on to the house. We’re over an hour late to eat.”
Ida Rose had promised to bring his lunch out to him, but since noon had come and gone without any sign of her, he figured she had forgotten. Feeling as good as he did that day, Tom could have pushed through, working till supper, but Eddie needed to eat.
Plus, stealing a few minutes to look at Ida Rose’s pretty face wasn’t going to hurt.
At the house, the front door was still open.
“Hello!” Tom called, sauntering in. But no one greeted him. The front room was empty.
“Where are they?” Eddie asked.
Tom opened the pot on the stove to see if lunch was in it. “Nothing. Sorry, Eddie. Looks like it’s bread and jam for us.”
“You won’t hear me complaining.”
As Eddie washed up and sliced the bread, Tom checked the bedrooms. Just as he had suspected, they were empty.
“They must be fetching eggs or something,” he announced, taking a seat at the table.
He couldn’t sit still, though. Eddie wolfed down nearly half a loaf of bread, but Tom didn’t take so much as a bite. His leg was jiggling and an uneasy feeling was growing in his stomach. The kitchen looked much like it had when he left it that morning, not like anyone had been cooking or baking in it at all.
So, where were the women? Had they gone for a walk?
“I’m checking the barns,” he announced, hopping up before Eddie could respond.
Tom hurried across the yard. “Ida Rose? Mother?”
There was no answer. Tom stood in the doorway of the stable, his head becoming light. The farm was a small one. It shouldn’t take this long to find someone on it.
Jogging to the end of the drive, he took a good look at the road, peering in both directions and looking for figures. Still, his search was futile.
Tom bit back a curse. “Ida Rose, where are you?” he whispered under his breath. His legs worked fast, bringing him back up the drive and into the house, where Eddie was just finishing up his meal.
“Something isn’t right,” Tom announced.
Eddie fidgeted nervously in his seat. “What do you mean?”
Tom rubbed his jaw, doing his best to stay calm. “There’s no reason they would both leave like this, not even making lunch at all.”
“What could have happened? Was it...”
Tom was glad Eddie didn’t finish the sentence. Things had been close to normal the last week. Whoever had camped down in the creek bed before seemed to have moved on. But if they had come back… if they had put so much as one finger on his mother or Ida Rose...
Tom’s hands curled into fists. “We need to find them,” he said through gritted teeth.
Not bothering to stop and see if Eddie was following, he grabbed the shotgun from above the doorway and left the house. He didn’t know which way to go first or even where to begin.
At the edge of the pig pen, faraway movement caught his eye. He knew that dark blue dress… It was his mother!
Spr
inting across the western edge of the farm—an area so full of rocks and boulders he had never bothered to clear it—Tom propelled himself toward his mother. Her back was turned away from him, though. She was headed in the opposite direction, walking toward the mountains.
“Mother!”
At the sound of his voice, she stopped and looked around in confusion. Tom came up on her so fast, he nearly couldn’t stop. Setting the shotgun on the ground, he carefully set his hands on her shoulders. “Are you all right? Where is Ida Rose?”
She blinked and looked him over. “Oh, Tom. I don’t know. Isn’t she with you? I was just going into town.”
Tom felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He struggled to keep his voice calm. “Town isn’t that way, Mother. It’s the opposite direction. And you shouldn’t be going by yourself anyway.”
She sighed sadly and hung her head. “I suppose you’re right.”
Tom wrapped his arm around her, his whole body aching in sympathy. She was walking for the mountains. What if he hadn’t seen her? In half an hour, she could have been gone, the foothills having swallowed her up. And what then? Even if she realized she had made a mistake, it could have been too late. She would have been lost in the wild.
The thought made him see red. Taking a few deep breaths, he waited until he was calm to speak. “Let’s get you inside. And I need to find Ida Rose. You don’t know where she could be at all?”
She mournfully shook her head. “I just don’t remember, Thomas. My memory isn’t as good as it used to be.”
“It’s all right, Ma. Don’t you worry about it.”
Eddie met them at the edge of the field. “Where’s Ida Rose?”
“Don’t know,” Tom tersely responded.
“Do you think...”
“No,” he interrupted. “Something else happened entirely. Let’s get Mother into the house.”
Taking her to the main room, they made her some tea and had her settle in the rocking chair. “Ida Rose should be back soon,” she suddenly announced. “She just went into town to post a letter.”
Tom’s sharp inhale burned his throat. “All right, Mother. Thank you. She’ll be back soon. You just rest.” He turned to Eddie. “The vegetable garden needs watering. Take care of that and you can go on home for the day.”
Eddie tipped his hat and skedaddled from the room. Going out the door as well, Tom went to the stable. There, he dropped onto an overturned bucket and buried his face in his hands. He was still shaking, his angry pulse hammering in his ears.
If what his mother had said was true, then Ida Rose had disregarded everything he’d told her. She had left a needy woman alone on one of her worst days. What kind of a person did that?
A sound in the yard made him look up. Ida Rose was pulling off her bonnet as she walked for the house.
“Ida Rose,” he called.
Her face brightened at the sight of him and she quickly changed directions. A mess of potential things to say grew in Tom as he stood. When she got to him, though, she must have seen the irritation on his face because the smile on her own evaporated.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Where have you been?”
His question came out as a bark and she recoiled, taking a step back. He hadn’t meant to sound so forceful, but he also saw no need to apologize for it.
“I went to town to drop off a letter.”
“And you left Mother alone?”
“Just for a while.” Her lashes fluttered and she shook her head in confusion. “Why are you so riled up? Did I do something wrong?”
“I told you to check in on her today. You saw the way she was at breakfast.”
Her face grew red. “And I have been checking in on her! I was only gone for a short time.”
“How long, exactly?”
She bristled at that. “I do not know exactly.”
“It can take a good hour to walk into town.”
“I walk fast,” she snapped back.
He could tell by her sauciness that she was hiding something. Likely, she had been gone for much longer than she cared to admit.
Tom could feel his nails digging into his palms, he had his hands clenched so tight. “Why are you being so impudent?”
“Why are you being so rude and aggressive?”
“I found Mother wandering out in the fields. She was heading for the foothills. Do you know what that means?”
Ida Rose’s face fell. “What was she doing out there?”
“She said she was going to town. She just so happened to be headed in the opposite direction of Shallow Springs, though. If I hadn’t have seen her out there, she could have made it all the way to the hills. Do you understand how easy it is to get lost in the mountains? How some people go into them and never come out?”
His voice rose with each question, the anger swelling in his chest and completely taking him over. He was furious with Ida Rose, but it was more than that. He was hurt by her. He had trusted her, put his mother’s safety in her hands.
And she had let him down.
“She—she was fine after you left this morning.”
Tom sighed, shutting his eyes tight. Had she heard anything he had just told her?
Ida Rose kept plowing on. “We did the housework together and she showed me her wedding dress. Everything was wonderful. She was even the one who suggested I go to town today and post my letter.”
Tom opened his eyes, seeing that her face was back to an angry red hue. “So, do not attempt to start a quarrel with me, Mr. Adkins. I have done the best that I can here, and I would be honored if you remembered that.”
Her calling him by his formal name felt like a slap in the face. It showed—whether she intended it to or not—that she was done thinking of him in an intimate manner. He wanted to snap back, to tell her that she was selfish and idle. His fight was vanishing, though. In its wake, sadness and disappointment had taken back over.
Tom lowered himself back to the overturned bucket, taking a seat and lacing his fingers together. Ida Rose waited as he stared at the ground.
“You could have taken her with you,” he quietly said. “Just to be careful.”
“She did not want to go.”
He lifted his face to study hers. “I asked you—”
“And I followed your request,” she interrupted. Her shoulders drew back tight and her chin lifted. “Perhaps if you had let me know more about the situation before I came out here, I would have been more willing to accommodate it. As it stands, I am doing the best that I can.”
Tom couldn’t check himself. He quickly stood up, the bucket tumbling over in the process. “I made a mistake there. We talked about it. Why must you bring it up once more?”
Her lips trembled. “Because I am still adjusting. This is not what I came here for.”
“You came to be a wife, did you not? To take care of a house, a family.”
“Yes,” she admitted. She opened her mouth to go on, but he cut in.
“So, do it,” he snarled, turning on his heel and stomping away.
9
9. Ida Rose
Chapter Nine
Ida Rose’s heart had been heavy many times, her father’s death marking the most prominent occasion. But never before had emotional pain been like this.
This agony was of a new kind, one Ida Rose did not understand. A part of her felt as if she never wanted to speak to Tom again, and yet, another part feared she would die if that were to happen.
After the spat in the stable, Tom had not spoken to her the rest of the day. He’d come in for supper, but eaten quietly, then left as soon as the meal was over. She had lingered while cleaning up the kitchen, hoping he might come in to talk with her, but he never did. What she would say if he did appear, she did not know.
She simply wanted to see him, to feel his presence and to know that everything would be all right.
Had she made a mistake by leaving Elizabeth alone? She could not tell.
Running over
the day’s events multiple times, she could see the differing point of views. But, like she had told Tom, she was only doing her best. If he expected her to be prepared for the life he had so suddenly unleashed on her, he should have given her a fair warning.
The morning after the calamity, she worked fast in the kitchen, cleaning up from breakfast and preparing dishes to bring to the hotel-raising that day.
Her Winding Path_Seeing Ranch series Page 6