High Mountain Drifter

by Jillian Hart

  "That's what I'm afraid of." Alone with her sister, with the warm fire dancing in the hearth and the cozy feeling of lamplight, she could no longer hold back the truth. Maybe Magnolia was right, that this was more than a pretty little trinket he'd bought on a whim.

  And he was coming back to her. Hope lifted through her as bright and merry as the flames in the hearth. She didn't know how this thing, this relationship between them would end--it didn't take a genius to know this would never be a happily-ever-after--but for now she was happy. That was gift enough.

  * * *

  A weak sun shone behind mottled clouds, sending out no real warmth in the windy afternoon. Hardened, iced snow crackled and crunched beneath Zane's boots as he hopped down from the rickety cart he'd commandeered from Klemp, who was cuffed and chained in the back.

  The little farmstead spoke of hard times. The shanty with tarpaper for siding, some of which had peeled off. A hole where the stove pipe had been, the stove had likely been sold for traveling money. The sod barn looked abandoned, the doors open, the two stalls inside empty. Had the family already departed?

  That would be too bad. Zane ground his molars together, blaming Klemp for that too. Winchester and Scout, tied behind the cart, gave equally grim looks at the lonely dwellings and property. Maybe the neighbors would know where the family went?

  "Uh, hello?" A man's voice called from the fields. A few more steps brought him out of the shadows of the house and into sight.

  Good. Zane nodded with satisfaction and hefted his rifle higher on his shoulder. "We spoke yesterday. Do you remember?"

  "I do." The weary looking farmer glanced nervously at the rifle, then beyond to his cart and mule in the drive beyond. A little hope seemed to lift him up. "Why, that's Maybelle."

  "Found her and your cart when I caught up with the man who robbed you." He strolled over to Scout and slid the rifle into the saddle holster. "Even have the quilts he took from your wife. They're folded up in back."

  "Why, I just don't--" The farmer teared up, held his fist to his mouth, trying to get a hold of himself. "I don't know quite what to say."

  "No problem." Zane reached into his pocket. "I recovered some of that money he took from you, found it when I patted him down for weapons. I don't know if it's all there, but I'll leave you his possessions as restitution. His gun and hunting knives might fetch you something."

  "You mean that you're giving me back my money?" The farmer stared at the roll of greenbacks, reached for them with a shaking hand. "Figure most folks would have pocketed that for themselves. No one woulda been the wiser."

  "Not most folks," Zane assured him. He might have grown up with an outlaw father, he'd seen first hand the darkness in the heart of men who preyed on others, and he'd spent his adult life hunting those men down, but he was starting to see there was more good than bad in this world. He untied his horses from the back of the cart. "I'm sorry for what you've gone through here. Hope better times are ahead."

  "Thank you, sir, I do too." He tucked the roll of bills into his coat pocket.

  "Then I'll be on my way." Zane unlatched the tailgate and hauled Klemp out of the cart by his cuffed ankles. Dropped his hog-tied body to the ground like a sack of potatoes. "Good luck to you."

  "You, too." The farmer stared at Klemp, shackled and subjugated, a miserable excuse for a man, but didn't say a thing.

  Zane dragged his quarry across the frozen ground, hauled him up on Scout's back, tied him with the packs. The man groaned, cursed under his breath, but they'd come to an understanding. If Klemp stayed silent, he got to keep his clothes. It'd be a much colder ride otherwise.

  After Zane mounted Winchester and turned the horses down the drive, the farmer's wife came running out of the shanty, a baby on her hip, a toddler at her skirts. She burst into tears at the sight of the mule. Zane smiled. At least the family had the animal to sell and something to start over with.

  Satisfied, he rode off into the wintry beams of the sun, heading northwest. As if Scout knew the importance of the journey, that this mattered more than any other ride they'd taken, he picked up his pace and kept it up, charging across the high Montana plains, toward the foothills and mountains where Verbena lived. Where, he hoped, she was waiting.

  * * *

  Tucked up in the second story of the kitchen house on the Rocking M, Aumaleigh sat at the desk that had been her mother's, and reached high over her head, stretching. Oh, that felt good, she thought, wincing when her back gave a little pop. It was interesting getting older.

  She stared out the window before her, at the gentle downward slope of the fields where a herd of horses grazed. It felt good to rest her eyes. She'd been sorting through Mother's old papers all afternoon. Why her mother wanted to keep all this old junk and paperwork, she didn't know. Then again, Maureen McPhee had never made sense to her.

  Shaking her head, Aumaleigh went back to work, diving into the next box. At least she had some downtime now that they'd hit the quiet time on the ranch. She dropped a handful of old accounts payable ledger sheets onto the desktop and sorted through them. Felt great relief there had been no more discovered letters from Gabriel. She wasn't sure that she could take that--not that she imagined Gabriel would have written her more than once. The man clearly had moved on from what they'd shared.

  The sad truth was that she hadn't.

  A knock rapped on the open door behind her. Josslyn stood there, her auburn hair pulled back from her face, eyes pinched in the corners with a friend's sympathy. She held a steaming teacup and saucer.

  "Hey, thought you might need this." She crossed the room, petticoats rustling. "Brr, it's a little cold up here. Want me to light the fire?"

  "No thanks, I won't be much longer." Aumaleigh gave the desk chair a half turn, the wheels squeaked as they complied. The tea smelled good--lavender, chamomile and honey. "You made my comfort tea."

  "I know it's got to be hard paging through all this." Josslyn slipped the cup and saucer onto the edge of the desk. "Hard to go through the past when it's a painful one. Too bad you won't let me help."

  "You have enough to do, honestly." Aumaleigh relaxed back, glad Josslyn had thought to come upstairs. "Keeping the cowboys fed is a big job."

  "You know it, but I've got a few minutes before I have to put the ham in the oven." She settled into the wingback chair cozied up between the corner and the window. "Since I can't help, I thought I'd keep you company. Force you to take a break."

  "Too bad for you, because I can sort and talk at the same time." Aumaleigh laughed, flipping through the pages and setting them aside. "Your plan is foiled."

  "Won't be the first time." Josslyn's eyes danced with good humor. "I hear the renovations are coming right along on the manor."

  "Yep, Tyler and his men have started on the final bedroom. The others are works-in-progress." Aumaleigh snared more papers from the box, dropped them on the desk. Part of her wanted to ask about Gabriel--if anyone knew the answer it would be Josslyn--but she bit her tongue, trapping the question inside. Once she asked, the question couldn’t be unasked. Her interest in him would no longer be private.

  As much as she couldn’t help wondering, Gabriel Daniels was no longer her business. What if she only looked pathetic if she asked about him, like an old maid sorry for her choices? No, that wasn't what she wanted at all. It wasn't what she was. "It's good seeing the house come together, to be filled with good memories. Now that Daisy and Beckett are agreed on a December wedding, I was hoping you'd help me with the reception dinner."

  "Help you? It would be my honor." Josslyn lit up, sitting a little straighter. "Why, I remember those girls when they were just wee things. Little Daisy and her adorable brown braids and those big bluebonnet eyes. Iris with her sweet red-blond curls. And cute blond-haired Rose. Remember how she and my boy used to play together? Oh, it does my heart good every time I remember."

  "It does for me too." Aumaleigh's heart warmed recalling those little girls, that time in her life. "For all th
e hardships we've been through in this life, and they can add up, it's good to remember those bright moments. Where there was fun and laughter and love."

  "They shine all the brighter," Josslyn agreed. "You tell Daisy I'd be happy to help with the meal. You know I love to cook. We'll do it up right, have a big party for the whole town. That's what those girls deserve, especially after what they've been through with that Craddock fellow and George."

  "I can't believe that of George." Aumaleigh felt the light dim, felt the warmth slip from her heart. George had worked on this ranch from the beginning. He'd been one of the first employees hired. He'd even asked her out once. "Then again, I couldn’t believe it when he'd been caught with horses stolen from our fields."

  "Sometimes you can never tell about a person. You can't always see the other side of them, the dark side they hide." Josslyn shook her head, face pinched, unhappy too. "At least he's caught."

  "He is?" That was news.

  "Yep, Burton came back not an hour ago with the news. Said Verbena ran out to say it was over, she even pulled him into the house and gave him coffee and cupcakes. He also said she had on a pretty new bracelet. It came by private messenger from that bounty hunter fellow." Josslyn hiked up an eyebrow. "Interesting, right? It's good to have spies."

  "It seems so." Amused, Aumaleigh drew the cup and saucer closer so she could take take a sip. "Seems Verbena has another admirer."

  "Half the bachelors in town nearly faint when she walks by." Josslyn laughed. "It reminds me of another beautiful young lady I used to know."

  "Yes, yes, you were quite the belle of the ball once." Mischievously, Aumaleigh took a sip of tea. Hot, hot, hot, but tasty. Soothing.

  "Ha!" Josslyn laughed at that. "The minute I met my dear Reginald I just knew he was the one. We were married three months later. No more looking for me. I wasn't the one all those bachelors in town were noticing anyway."

  "I think you're just making that up," Aumaleigh teased. She took another sip of tea. "All I remember was being the only girl without a beau at my age, and my mother telling me that's how it was going to be, to get used to it."

  "That mother of yours was no mother." Josslyn made a face. "Things are different now. There are plenty of eligible mature men. Take Doc Hartwell, for instance."

  "I'm too set in my ways to start thinking of a husband." Not that she wouldn't want one, that is, but she'd never gotten over Gabriel. Maybe that was what held her back. "What about you?"

  "What about me?" Josslyn relaxed against the cushioned back of the chair, stretched her legs out and crossed her feet. "I'm not interested in the good doctor."

  "No, but there is a man in town interested in you, or haven't you noticed?" She set her cup down with a clink in its saucer. "Don't look so surprised. The feed store owner has gazed at you with puppy-dog eyes for years."

  "You mean Carl Thomas?" Josslyn's eyebrows shot up so far, they disappeared behind her fringe of bangs. "Seriously? No wonder he's always rushing out to help with the door or to untie the horse from the hitching post for me. I just thought he was a helpful sort."

  "Well, pay attention next time," Aumaleigh advised. "He could be your husband number three."

  "I'd rather jump off the roof and break every bone in my body than have a third husband. Two was enough." With a laughing wink, Josslyn heaved herself out of the chair. "Well, that was enough lazy time for me. I've got meat to get in the oven. I'll holler when I need help?"

  "Absolutely." Aumaleigh swiveled her chair, watching her friend dart across the room, all take-charge energy. "Is Maebry here yet?"

  "No, I told her not to come in until four to help, that's when I'll need an extra hand," Josslyn called as her shoes pounded down the staircase. "I'm giving her as much time off as I can, because I have a suspicion or two."

  "That she's in a family way?" Aumaleigh asked, because she'd noticed how pale Maebry was in the mornings, how she'd looked a little green around the edges while frying up a large skillet of bacon. Since she'd been married last summer, it was about time, and a welcome development too. "I've been thinking about letting her go completely. We can get by without her, right?"

  "Right. Has there been any interest from that advertisement you mailed in to the Deer Springs Gazette?" Josslyn called out from the kitchen below.

  "No." With that sad fact, Aumaleigh swiveled back around to face the desk and the stack of papers there. Nothing interesting, just receipts tucked in between the ledger pages, several of them were from Carl Thomas's store. Clearly there were no other letters, no other painful surprises, and that made it easier to sort and toss things into the burn pile. Until a receipt, yellowed with age, caught her eye.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Miss Carlton's Lady's Shoppe , was printed across the aged parchment. Purchased: One lady's dress, princess style in pale pink lawn, for Miss Aumaleigh. Mother-of-pearl buttons, sage green silk ribbon trim, imported lace. $27 due upon receipt .

  Remembering that dress, that day, Aumaleigh dropped back in her chair, half stunned, half amazed. May 21, 1836. That was the exact day a tall, dark-haired, handsome man had burst into the dress shop, just standing there in the doorway beneath the daintily tinkling bell, staring at her. Just staring. That moment her heart had stopped, the shop owner had shooed him out, and that had been that. She didn't know his name, but he'd touched her heart, like recognizing like.

  That long ago spring day in Ohio floated into her mind like a sweet dream, and her hand stilled. Part of her wanted to push the recollection away, but another part had to see it, had to re-live it one more time. She'd never expected to see him again, but he'd been waiting for her in the street. He strode up to her, long, denim-encased legs, a black shirt covering muscled arms and torso. His black hat, tilted low hid half his face. The straight blade of his nose, his masculine, sculpted mouth and an uncompromising iron-hewn jaw were sheer perfection.

  "Good afternoon, Miss." He tipped back that hat, and the impact of his gaze left her reeling. Steady eyes, radiating integrity and character. "You'll have to forgive me, I'm new in town. I don't know your name, but I'd like to come calling."

  Calling? Shock rocked through her. Well, that was unexpected. No man had ever made her an offer like that, and, flustered, she gave a surprised little laugh. "You're rather direct, aren't you, Mr--?"

  "Daniels." One corner of his chiseled mouth hooked upward, softening the rugged angles and planes of his face, making him even more handsome. "Gabriel Daniels. My sister lives in this town, her husband got me a job at one of the ranches here."

  "You're Gabriel?" Her eyebrows shot up. She looked him up and down again. He was a big man, well over six feet. "You're Josslyn's little brother?"

  "Younger brother," he corrected. "I've been taller than her since I was twelve. How do you know my sister?"

  "I work with her. Well, actually, she works for my mother, and I don't actually work there too, more like an unpaid--" She bit her tongue, forcing the words to stop rolling. You're babbling, she thought. That's how muddled she was. "I mean, I've worked beside her in the ranch's kitchen for more years than I can count."

  "You must be Aumaleigh." His baritone gentled, ringing low, like he was a man capable of great kindness, great depth. "Josslyn said everyone else she worked with was married, and no ring on your finger."

  "Uh, no." She glanced down at her own hand, the one he'd gestured at, feeling heat march across her face again.

  "Then you're not seeing anyone?" He tipped his hat forward again to block the sun, hiding his gaze from her, leaving only his amazing iron-jaw half-smile. "How does a Sunday afternoon drive sound?"

  Nice. Wonderful. Fantastic. She frowned. "Like you're awfully forward, Mr. Daniels. My mother will never permit me to go driving with a stranger."

  "I'm not too strange," he informed her, ambling away, crossing the street. "I'll come by at two."

  "Do you even know where I live?" she called out. A teamster's horse and wagon lumbered by, kicking up dust, blocking her vi
ew of him.

  "Josslyn told me where she works," he answered through the cloud of dust rising like chalk in the air. Muscular form, impressive shoulders, iron strength. He untied a team of horses from the hitching post on the opposite side of the street. "It's a big ranch, lots of horses, east of town."

  "There are a lot of ranches east of town." Her pulse fluttered frantically, knocking against the backside of her ribs.

  "Don't worry, I'll find you." He knuckled back his hat again. He fastened his gaze on hers with unexpected power, seeing everything, to the depths of her soul.

  She saw him too. A good man, a good, good heart. A touch of loneliness, someone who always did the right thing. He climbed into his wagon seat with a ranching man's athletic ease. Raised a leather-gloved hand to her as he drove by.

  She managed a little finger wave, mesmerized as his wagon rattled down the street and out of sight. Odd how she just knew he was the one. Gabriel Daniels was the man she would love for the rest of her life.

  Behind her, Primrose gave a questioning nicker, perhaps unsure why they were standing instead of heading home.

  "Sorry," she said, laughing, whirling around--no, twirling. She actually twirled to the post to untie her mare's reins. She felt so light, so changed. Life was never going to be the same.

  "Can you believe it?" she asked Primrose, whose gentle loving eyes blinked, as if amazed by the unexpected chain of events too. "Someone wants to come calling. I'm not going to let Mother mess this up. I just won't."

  Elated, she floated to the buggy and practically drifted up into the seat. Oh, she had to tell Laura right away, and Josslyn. They would be so excited. And then she had to figure out what to wear--