Heart of Gold

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  “Bad news?” she asked softly as she moved toward the open chair.

  Shannon gave a humorless laugh. “Does any other kind come when people are at war?”

  Ah, the war. “No. Even in victory, people die.”

  “It’s from my friend Katie.” Shannon touched the paper in her lap. “Until Father brought me here, Katie and I lived near one another our entire lives. If only I could help her, but there is nothing I can do.” She shook her head. “Even if I was there, I wouldn’t be of any help to her, I’m afraid. Not with things as they are.”

  “I’m sorry, Shannon.”

  “I know.” She drew a deep breath and released it on a sigh. Then she looked toward the town. “Your brother should be back from Boise soon.”

  “Yes. Before supper, he thought.”

  “Do you suppose he and the sheriff will learn anything about the thieves?”

  “I hope so,” Alice answered.

  In the days since the robbery attempt, worry had weighed upon Matthew’s shoulders. He felt responsible in some strange way, as if he believed no one would have been shot if he’d held the reins. And he also feared more trouble would come.

  Softly she said, “‘Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’”

  The two women fell silent then, both of them lost in thoughts of their own.

  Shannon was unable to follow the advice of Scripture. She continued the remainder of the day to feel restless and frustrated by her inability to change things for her dearest friend in the world. After supper with her father, she decided to go to the livery to visit Ginny. It was too late for a ride, even if her sidesaddle had arrived—oh, how she hoped it had—but perhaps it would soothe her frazzled thoughts if she spent a short while with the mare, brushing her coat and talking to her.

  There must be something I can do for Katie. There has to be something.

  The livery was only one short block and one long block from the parsonage, so if there was a solution to be found in her head, it had no time to surface before she arrived at her destination. No one else was in the barn when she entered, so she went straight to the stall and led Ginny out of it. She tied the lead to a post near the open side door and began brushing her.

  “You’re very beautiful, you know,” she said in a gentle tone. “I think you’re the finest horse in all of Grand Coeur.”

  Although Matthew’s gray is rather fine too.

  No. She didn’t want to think about Matthew. Thinking about him seemed to only confuse her more, and that wasn’t what she wanted. She needed to think about Katie.

  “Maybe we could send money so she and Mrs. Davis could join us here. Do you suppose they would do that, Ginny, if we could send them the money? Would they leave Virginia and come to stay with us?”

  The mare snorted and bobbed her head, as if in answer to the question.

  But that probably wasn’t possible. Katie and her mother had shown no inclination to leave their home in Virginia. And even if they wanted to come and she asked her father to send them money for passage and he agreed, how could they get the money to Katie? It would probably be stolen before it made it across enemy lines.

  She leaned her forehead against Ginny’s neck. Please, God. Isn’t there something I can do?

  The sound of male voices in a muffled conversation caused her to look around. She’d thought she was alone in the barn.

  “Two weeks. Three at the most.” One voice became more distinct.

  The men weren’t in the barn but outside of it. Closer to her than moments before.

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “We’re all tired of waiting.”

  That was Joe Burkette. She recognized his voice now. And the two men sounded as if they were just outside the barn doorway now. Uncertainty formed a knot in her belly. She didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping on their conversation. She moved to Ginny’s other side and continued brushing the horse’s dark-red coat.

  “Miss Adair? Is that you?”

  Swallowing hard, she straightened and looked over the mare’s back. Joe stood framed by the doorway. “Hello, Mr. Burkette. I thought you must have gone home for the night.”

  “No.” A slight frown creased his forehead. “Have you been here long?”

  “Not long. At least I don’t think so. I’m afraid I’ve been talking to Ginny and paying no attention to how much time has passed.” She forced a smile. “You must think me very silly. Talking to a horse and being so lost in my own thoughts I have no idea of the time.”

  “I don’t think you’re at all silly, Miss Adair.” His frown disappeared, and he moved forward, stopping on Ginny’s other side. “What exactly do you find to say to your horse?”

  “I was telling her about my friend Katie. I received a letter from her today. Things are going very hard on the people of Virginia.”

  “They’re hard for people all over the South.” His expression was as good as a curse.

  “If I knew how, I would bring Katie and her mother to Idaho Territory.” She resumed brushing Ginny’s coat. “I don’t even know if they would be allowed to leave Virginia. Father had his position with the church awaiting him, but that wouldn’t be true of them. And I suppose it is costly to travel all this way. I never thought to ask Father about that.”

  Joe’s smile seemed almost sly. “Perhaps the Yankees could pay their fare.”

  “Whatever do you mean? Why would the Yankees pay for two women to escape Virginia and come to this territory?”

  “Allow me to think about that, Miss Adair. It’s possible I might find a way to make it happen.”

  Was he jesting with her? He must be. His suggestion made no sense.

  “But if I could help bring your friends to Idaho”—Joe leaned closer, his arms on Ginny’s back—“you’d be grateful, wouldn’t you?”

  His words made her feel more than a little uncomfortable, though she refused to show it. “Of course I would be grateful. I should be the most wretched of creatures if I wasn’t grateful for something like that.”

  “And I can be very determined, Miss Adair. Very, very determined.”

  23

  On Saturday, Matthew carried the smaller saddle from the stable and set it on the sorrel’s back. “Did you eat something?” he asked Todd, who stood near the horse’s head.

  “Yes.”

  “We won’t be back for at least a couple of hours. Don’t want you getting hungry while we’re up on the trail.”

  “I won’t. How ’bout you? Did you eat?”

  Matthew chuckled. “Sun Ling made me a big breakfast.”

  “I’m glad Miss Shannon’s saddle came so she can go with us.”

  “Me too.” He reached over and ruffled the kid’s hair. “You need your hat.”

  He smiled to himself as he cinched the saddle, remembering what had happened the previous evening. Todd had given him a rather good thrashing in a game of battledore and shuttlecock. Of course Matthew hadn’t tried as hard as he could have to master the game, but he’d taken pleasure in watching the boy enjoy himself so much. That’s when the realization had hit him. He and Todd and Alice had become a family.

  He’d learned to genuinely care for the boy. In fact, it surprised him how strong his emotions toward his nephew were.

  He’d never expected to have a family. Never thought it was something he wanted. Settling down, living in one place, hadn’t appealed to him. He’d liked being on the move all the time. He’d liked being considered by many as one of the best stagecoach drivers west of the Mississippi.

  Still liked it. And yet maybe settling down wasn’t such a bad thing. There were routes he could drive and still be home most nights. And he could make a good home for Todd with the right woman by his side.

  With Shannon by his side.

  “Uncle Matt, here.”

  Caught woolgathering, he turned from the sorrel to find
Todd right behind him, holding his uncle’s saddle in his arms, leaning slightly backward under the size and weight of it.

  “Let me have that.” He took the saddle from Todd and walked over to the gray, moving more briskly now. Why think about Shannon when he could be with her instead?

  Clad in her riding habit—attire that had gone unused for several years— Shannon led the bay mare out of the livery barn and looked up the street to the east. No sign of Mr. Dubois and Todd yet. Where were they?

  Should she ride to meet them or wait here as agreed?

  The sound of footsteps drew her gaze in the opposite direction. Joe Burkette walked toward her.

  “Good morning, Miss Adair.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Burkette.”

  “Off for a ride, I see.”

  “Yes.”

  “Nice morning for it. It would give me great pleasure to join you.”

  “Well, I—” She glanced once more to the east and felt a rush of relief when she saw Matthew and Todd ride into view. “I’m already part of a riding party,” she added, turning back toward Joe. “And here they come now.”

  It was his turn to look down the street. A frown furrowed his brow. “Mr. Dubois is that someone, I take it.”

  “Yes. And his nephew.”

  Joe stepped closer and took hold of the mare’s reins. “Allow me to assist you into the saddle.”

  Strange how unwelcome his offer was. She was able to mount on her own. Or she could wait for Matthew to help her. But it would be rude to decline Joe’s offer. She nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Burkette. You are kind.”

  Shannon was securely seated on her sidesaddle by the time Matthew and Todd arrived in front of the livery, and Joe was once more holding on to the bay’s reins close to the bit.

  “Mr. Burkette,” Matthew said with a nod.

  “Mr. Dubois,” Joe answered.

  The air felt thick.

  Matthew looked at her and this time he smiled. “Miss Adair. Fine horse you picked for yourself.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Dubois.” She took the reins in hand and backed the mare away from Joe, forcing him to let go. “Good morning, Todd. How’s your mother this morning?”

  “She’s good. She said we’re to have a pleasant time. I’m glad you’re coming with us.”

  “Me too.” She smiled at the boy as she nudged the bay toward the street.

  “Enjoy your ride,” Joe called after them.

  Shannon chose not to respond.

  “Uncle Matt’s right,” Todd said. “You got a good horse. I remember her from when we got ours. I’m glad you went back to buy her. Ma says it’s good for us to get out of the house. You too.”

  Matthew, riding on the other side of Todd, turned his head to look at her and smiled.

  Something unfamiliar unfurled in her chest.

  “Where are we riding today, Uncle Matt?”

  “I thought we’d take the main road north.”

  “I’ll lead.” The boy nudged the gelding into a jog, moving out ahead of Shannon and Matthew.

  Grand Coeur had disappeared from view before Matthew broke the silence. “You look at home in the saddle, Miss Adair.”

  “I feel at home. You can’t possibly know how much I’ve missed riding. I’m not sure even I knew how much I missed it.” She looked from one side of the road to the other, mountains rising to the east and the west, the road following the snaking creek off to their right. “Of course the countryside was quite different where I used to ride.”

  “I reckon so. One thing I’ve learned driving stage, America’s got something for everybody when it comes to land. Great deserts. Tall mountains. Crystal-clear lakes full of fish. Deep and muddy rivers.

  Land that’s good for not much more than mountain goats. Land that’s made for farmers, with soil that’s rich for growing things.”

  “Creeks that are rich with gold.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, plenty of wealth in places like this, but not many make their fortunes. Not from what I’ve seen over the last decade.”

  “You never felt like trying to find gold for yourself?”

  “No. That’s not the kind of life for me.” He motioned with his head toward the boy riding up ahead of them. “Not the sort of life for him either.”

  How very wrong she’d been about him when they first met. How very— Ginny stumbled, jerking Shannon’s attention away from the man riding next to her. She pulled in on the reins.

  “Something wrong, Miss Adair?”

  “I think Ginny’s limping.”

  Matthew stopped his horse.

  “I’d better check. She may have picked up a pebble.” Shannon unhooked her knee and slipped to the ground.

  Before she could lift the mare’s left front hoof, Matthew had dismounted too. “Allow me,” he said, stepping close.

  She looked up and her breath caught in her chest. She’d stood near him before, but this time he felt taller, his shoulders broader, his eyes bluer. It was impossible to look away from him.

  Matthew hadn’t planned it. Hadn’t even considered it a possibility. Not this soon and not this way.

  But in that moment, standing so close to Shannon, seeing her beautiful eyes staring up at him, her generous mouth slightly parted, her chest rising and falling, only one thought existed—he wanted to kiss her. Wanted it more than anything he’d wanted in a long, long while.

  She seemed to sway, first backward, then forward. His hands closed around her upper arms to steady her—and then to draw her to him. His head lowered, his gaze never breaking away from hers. Not until her image blurred because of her nearness. Only then did he close his eyes.

  Her lips were soft. She tasted sweet. She went utterly still, not even seeming to breathe. A fire of wanting ignited within him.

  “Uncle Matt!”

  Matthew drew back from Shannon, releasing his grip on her arms.

  Her eyes opened and went wide. Her hand flew to her mouth.

  “Yes,” he called to Todd without looking toward the boy.

  “What’s keepin’ you?”

  “Miss Shannon’s horse picked up a rock.”

  Todd trotted his horse back in their direction. Matthew took another step away from the lady he wished he could keep on holding.

  “I’ll check her hooves,” he said.

  “Please do.” Her reply was a mere whisper. Then she turned and disappeared around the mare’s rump. Hiding from him. Getting as far away from him as she could without running for home and leaving her horse behind.

  He wanted to call himself all kinds of a fool. For all of her friendliness toward him and his family, she wasn’t used to men like him grabbing and kissing her on a public road.

  He lifted Ginny’s front left hoof. No stone. He repeated the motion with the hind left hoof. Nothing there either. He went around the back of the mare to repeat the procedure. At the same time, Shannon moved around the mare’s head.

  Still hiding from him.

  He stepped to the mare’s head and looked to where Shannon stood, her right hand resting on the seat of the saddle, her eyes lowered toward the ground. “I don’t see anything,” he said.

  “Maybe I should lead her back to the livery. If she’s lame—”

  He took a step toward her. Her head came up and her gaze met his.

  “Please, Miss Adair,” he responded quickly. “Don’t go back.

  Ride with us. Your horse isn’t lame. I’m sure she isn’t. Try her again.”

  Splashes of pink rose in Shannon’s cheeks, and the color of her eyes seemed to go a shade deeper.

  Matthew lowered his voice so Todd couldn’t hear. “I ask your forgiveness, Miss Adair. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  The surprising thing was Shannon didn’t want his apologies. She wanted to be back in his arms with his lips upon hers. She wanted him to go on kissing her until she fainted for lack of oxygen.

  Benjamin had kissed her on the mouth the day they’d become engaged. It hadn’t been anything like this. Bri
ef and pleasant, as she recalled, and she’d felt fondly toward him afterward.

  It wasn’t fondness she felt toward Matthew Dubois. It was more than that. Much more.

  “Will you forgive me, Shannon?”

  Her given name sounded sweet from his lips. She wished him to always use it. “Yes, Mr. Dubois. I forgive you. And I shall ride with you as long as Ginny is all right.”

  “Thank you. I hadn’t given up hope that you would.”

  Trying to take control of her emotions, she gave her head a slight toss. “I fear you think me entirely predictable.”

  “You’re wrong,” he answered, eyes and voice serious. “I may think you many things, but never predictable.”

  Was that a compliment or a criticism? She wasn’t sure. In truth, she didn’t care.

  “Mornin’, Mrs. Jackson.”

  Alice stirred in the chair on the veranda.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. Didn’t realize you were asleep.”

  “It’s all right.” She blinked away the slumber and forced her eyes to focus on the man standing on the steps. “Oh, Sheriff Dickson. Hello.”

  “I was hoping to speak to Matt, if he’s got a minute to spare me.”

  “He isn’t here at present. He’s gone riding with my son and Miss Adair.”

  Jack glanced toward the road that went past the house. “Miss Adair, huh? Mighty pretty woman.”

  And one who isn’t available to you, sir. Her brother had warned her that Jack had a way with the ladies.

  “Mind if I sit?” he asked.

  His question took her by surprise. “If you wish.” She motioned to the chair beside her.

  “Matt told me you haven’t been feeling well.” He removed his hat as he looked at her.

  Alice was quite certain Matthew hadn’t said it that way. He would have told his good friend the truth, that his sister was not expected to live long. But apparently he had done so after Jack had come for supper at the Dubois home rather than before. She liked Jack Dickson and decided to be candid with him.