“Much better. I’m warmer already.”
He unwrapped his own muffler and tied it over her head, then helped her onto the horse and tied her carpetbag and food bundle behind the saddle. “Guess we’re set.”
“What about you?” she asked. “Aren’t you going to ride?”
“I’ll walk. It will be quicker, and besides, I’m used to it.” He didn’t tell her that because of the snow, the horse couldn’t carry double. He glanced up, where a flurry of white swirled from the sky. He also didn’t tell her that the way it was coming down, they’d have to hurry or they wouldn’t be able to get through at all.
Knowing they dare not tarry, he led the horse back to the trail and called to the dog, who was scratching around beneath a pine tree. “Come on, Fluffy. Let’s go home.”
The huge beast bounded past him and trotted up the trail, effectively breaking the way for the horse.
“You might be good for something, after all,” Tanner said, watching the dog plow through the thick powder.
By the time they reached the summit, the storm had set in in earnest and, by the look of it, wouldn’t let up anytime soon. In the mountain meadow where his cabin sat, it would be even deeper. He wouldn’t be able to fell timber, not for a while at least. Aside from doing a few chores in the barn, he’d be housebound, a condition that he normally detested. This time he looked forward to it, because he’d have Kate to keep him company. He remembered the other night after the play when they’d been together in the buggy, and the kisses they’d shared before they’d been discovered. This time they wouldn’t be interrupted because it would be spring before anybody would be able to get up the mountain.
He envisioned long winter nights by the fire, with the boys asleep in their beds. Just him and Kate and the snow piling up around the house. Thinking of the possibilities, his blood grew hot, despite the freezing cold and snow. If it wasn’t for the timber contract, he wouldn’t care if it snowed until next June. From the way it was coming down, it might do just that.
For the first time in days, he smiled.
Chapter 12
“We’re here,” Tanner said, pointing across a snow covered meadow.
Although Kate couldn’t see anything but white, rimmed by snow-coated evergreens, she was happy to take his word for it.
A short time later, he stopped the horse in front of a large log structure that looked more like a barn than a house. He came to her side and lifted her down, supporting her until she could stand on her own. Then he guided her up a broad set of icy steps, across a covered porch and into the house. Although it was too dark to see much, the place was cozy warm.
“It’s after midnight. The boys are in bed.” He lit a lamp, then helped her out of her wrappings. He was being such a gentleman.
“I feel like I’m still on the horse,” she said, attempting to straighten what she feared might be a permanent kink in her spine.
He chuckled. “You’ll probably really be sore tomorrow. Come on in here and get thawed out. I’ll stoke up the cookstove. You might want tea or something. Make yourself at home. I have to tend to the horse, then I’ll be back.”
Just when she was beginning to feel warm again, another need made itself known. “There is one thing,” she said hesitantly. “The privy?”
“Out back. I guess we should have gone there first. You’d better take a light.” He lit a lantern and turned to the coat-rack.
“The cloak will be sufficient this time,” she said, donning it once again. She followed him outside and around the house to a small building. “I’ll manage fine from here.”
He nodded, then trudged away to care for the horse.
Kate tended to her needs quickly in the freezing weather, then left the tiny building. The snow had ceased to fall, and there was absolute silence. Overhead the clouds parted and a silvery moon appeared at the farthest horizon. It rose, tangling in the treetops, turning the mountain meadow into a wintery fairyland. Snow crystals gleamed and glimmered. Icicles dripped in spangles from the rooftops. It was spiritual, magical, and she had the feeling that if she moved the spell would be broken and all would disappear. She was unaware of how long she had stood there until Tanner appeared by her side.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, taking her hand.
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. Is it always like this?”
“Only when it snows,” he said with a chuckle. “Look over there, see the deer?” He pointed to the edge of the trees, where a doe and two yearling fawns had appeared.
“No wonder you love it up here,” she whispered.
“It’s always pretty. At least we think so. You should see it in the spring. So green it hurts your eyes. And the wildflowers... And summers—flowers then, too, and wild berries. You can’t imagine how sweet they are. We don’t get the heat of the valley, so the air stays clear. At night the stars seem so close you could gather them in a basket.”
Kate closed her eyes, picturing the scenes his words were painting.
“In the fall, the mountains are gold and crimson and every color in between. It is a sight to behold.”
“It sounds like paradise.”
He laughed. “And like paradise, we also have a few snakes.”
The moment they were sharing was so special, so intimate, and it showed her a side of Tanner she hadn’t been aware of. She didn’t want it to end, but the cold air made her teeth chatter.
Noticing, he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “Well, right now we are both going to be in paradise before our time, if we don’t go in and get warm.” He picked up the lantern and walked her back to the house.
“It’s warmer in the kitchen,” he said. “The boys have the fireplace banked for the night.” He fixed them both a cup of hot chocolate, then excused himself and disappeared down a narrow hall. He reappeared with his arms full of sheets, which he tossed into a basket in the corner.
“I don’t want to put you to a lot of trouble,” she said.
“No trouble at all.” He slid into the seat across from her and drank his chocolate; every once in a while his eyes would meet hers, and he’d smile.
“What’s so funny?”
“You’ve got chocolate on your upper lip. John does the same thing.”
“Oh, my.” Blushing, she brought her hand up and wiped it off.
“Don’t be embarrassed. It makes you look younger. I was sitting here imagining you as a child. Bet you were feisty.”
“My hair was always a tangled mess, and I was skinny as a stick. My mama despaired of me ever being a lady.”
“She’d be proud of you now. All of your folks are gone?”
She nodded. “Except for a cousin. Mama died of a fever, then my father died shortly after the war.”
“I lost my mother when I was young. Pa married again, then they had the boys. Maggie was really the only mother I ever remembered. She died when John was two. I guess I became the mother after that. Pa worked in the woods all the time.” His face grew sad, tortured.
“What happened?”
“A limb got him. It would have gotten me, but he pushed me out of the way.”
“It was an accident,” she said, realizing he blamed himself for his father’s death.
“Yeah. But I intend to make sure no such accident ever happens to the boys.” He swallowed and looked away.
She wanted to go to him, hold him, comfort him. But it wasn’t her place, and she sensed he wouldn’t like it. Tanner Blaine was always so strong, stalwart, he wouldn’t like anyone seeing this softer, more vulnerable side. Especially her.
“Guess we’d better go to bed or we’ll meet ourselves getting up,” he said gruffly.
A scratching at the door drew their attention.
“I forgot about Fluffy,” Kate said.
“I’d better let him in before he knocks the door down.” Tanner rose and let the dog inside. He laughed. “He looks like a white bear with all that snow clinging to him.”
“If you
have a rag or something, I’ll clean him up, otherwise he’ll drip water all over the floor,” Kate said, dodging the dog’s ice-crusted tail.
“Here, use this. Has to be washed anyway.” He tossed her one of the sheets he’d removed from the bed. “Maybe I’d better help.”
“He likes all the attention.” She wrapped her arms around the dog’s neck in an attempt to hold him still, but he wriggled free.
“Sit,” Tanner ordered.
Fluffy obeyed.
“Minds better than the kids,” he said, wiping the animal’s fur free of snow. “There. That’s good enough. At least he won’t get your bed all wet.”
“Thank you.” She stood, undecided about where to go.
“This way.” He picked up her carpetbag and the lamp and carried them down the hall. “Nothing fancy, but the bed sleeps pretty good.” He set her bag on the floor and put the lamp on a pine dresser.
Curious about Tanner’s home, Kate glanced around.
The honey-colored log walls gave the oversized room a coziness it wouldn’t have had otherwise. “What a big bed!”
“My pa was tall, like me. He wouldn’t fit in a regular bed, so he built it special. Maggie said it was too big, claimed she got lost in it. After she died, Pa wouldn’t sleep here anymore. Said it was too lonely.” He pointed at a cedar chest at the foot of the bed. “After Maggie passed on, I packed away her curtains, best quilts and stuff. Figured to give them to the boys when they got married, so they would have something of hers to share with their own kids someday.”
She traced the smooth pine footboard with her finger. “We had big sleigh beds on the plantation, but nothing of this size.”
Worn, but clean, rag rugs were the rooms’s only decoration. One lay beside the bed; another, larger, one was at the foot in front of the chest. A doorless closet containing heavy work clothes took up most of one end of the room. A straight-backed chair sat beside a rustic table. Above it was a shelf with a half dozen books.
“It looks very nice,” she said.
“Probably nothing like you’re used to, but at least I’m not cramped. I’ll grab a pillow and some blankets, then I’ll get out of your way.”
“Where are you going to sleep?” .
“I’ll bunk in the front room. That old couch is danged near as long as this bed, so I’ll make out just fine.” He gathered up the things he needed, then gazed at her a moment. “If there’s anything you need...”
“Only a little sleep,” she said, stifling a yawn.
“Good night, Kate.”
“Good night, Tanner.”
He hesitated for a moment, then left the room, softly closing the door behind him.
She quickly changed into her nightclothes, climbed onto the bed and slid between sheets so cold they took her breath away. She doubled into a knot, wondering if she’d ever be able to warm a spot in the massive edifice; then about halfway toward the foot she located a lump of heat. Reaching down to touch it, she felt a hot rock wrapped in a thick towel. Tanner must have put it there after he’d changed the bed. How thoughtful.
Her toes touching the rock, she curled her arms around the pillow, knowing that only last night it had cradled Tanner’s head. It rustled. Not feathers. She sniffed. It smelled of sweet grass and flowers, bringing forth images of a mountain meadow on a warm summer day. Much better than goose down, she decided.
She sighed in contentment. Never had she felt so cosseted, so protected.
She reminded herself that Tanner had brought her here out of obligation, to keep her from contracting smallpox. And as soon as the danger was over, he’d return her to town.
Nevertheless, as she lay there in his room, in his bed, breathing in his scent, she wished it could have been different.
If only it could stay like this. If only it could last.
* * *
“What are you doing sleeping in here?”
Tanner opened one eye and peered up at Luke. “Go away.” “Something wrong with your bed?” Luke persisted.
“It’s occupied.”
“By who?”
“Kate. I brought her here last night. She’s tired, so let her sleep.”
“Kate? She’s here?”
“Kate’s here?” John yelled from the hallway.
“Shhh!” Tanner said, dragging himself to a sitting position.
“W-what’s sh-she doing here?” John asked, stuttering in his excitement.
“She’s trying to sleep, so keep it down.”
“Did you de-decide to k-keep her?”
“Keep her? What are you talking about?” Tanner asked between yawns.
“K-keep her. Y-you know. Get m-married and have b-babies and stuff.”
“We’re not getting married, so don’t get any ideas about that. There’s a smallpox epidemic in Jacksonville. I didn’t want her to get sick, so I brought her up here so she would be safe.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Any more questions?”
“Yeah,” Mark said from the doorway. “Did she come willing, or did you kidnap her?”
“Damn! I feel like I’m in the middle of an inquisition.” He shook his head and stared at his brothers. “Could you at least let me have a cup of coffee first, since it appears like I’m not going to get any more sleep.”
“You didn’t answer Mark’s question.” Matt stood, arms crossed, waiting.
“I didn’t kidnap her. She came of her own accord. You can ask her.”
“I’ll do that—soon as she wakes up,” Mark said.
Tanner stared at them in amazement. He was the oldest, they should be answering to him, not the other way around. Of course they had always been protective when it came to Kate—which might be a problem if they kept it up. He’d just have to get them to mind their own business.
“Fluffy!” John yelled, running to hug the dog around the neck.
A very sleepy, tousle-headed Kate stood in the doorway. “Good morning. I can’t believe it’s daylight already. Seems like I just went to bed.”
“That’s because you practically did.” Tanner shot accusing glances at his brothers. “I tried to keep these yahoos quiet, but you probably heard the results of that.”
“We’re sorry, Kate. I guess we were just excited,” Luke said, blushing.
“I’ve always been an earlier riser. I probably would have been up before long, anyway.”
“You sit over here by the fire,” Mark insisted, tugging a large overstuffed chair close to the heat. “Get you warmed up in no time.”
“What a big fireplace. I’ll bet you could get a whole tree in there,” she said in amazement.
“Not quite. We’ve got some pretty big trees, too,” Tanner said with a grin.
“I’ll fetch you some coffee,” Matt said, hurrying toward the kitchen.
John gave her a hug, then squeezed in beside her. “What’s smallpox?” he asked, singing the words.
“It’s where your face turns black and your skin falls off,” Luke said, taking up a position by her feet.
“Luke, for God’s sake,” Tanner admonished.
“It’s a terrible disease caused by a bad germ,” Kate answered. “Some of the people in Jacksonville are getting sick. But the doctor and the sisters of the Holy Names are working very hard to make everyone feel better.”
“Everybody will be well, then?”
“Soon. Then I can go back home.”
“I want people to feel better, but I hope they don’t get well too quick,” John said. “I want you to stay for a long, long time.”
“She’ll be here a while,” Luke said with a snicker.
Tanner nudged him before he could say more.
Mark and Luke looked at each other, then at him. Tanner shook his head. He wouldn’t let them tell her she was stuck here. He’d do it later when the time was right. Give her time to get used to the situation first. No sense getting her upset for nothing.
Luke gazed at Kate, his eyes full of adoration, then he frowned. “Kate, you’re barefooted. Don’
t you have any slippers?”
“We left in such a hurry, I forgot to stick them in.”
“I’ll make you some,” Luke promised. “I’ll start right now. In the meantime you can wear a pair of my wool socks.” He got to his feet and left the room.
“Here, try some of this, Kate.” Matt handed her a steaming mug. “It’s fresh and not too strong. I even scrubbed the pot.”
“That’s a first,” Tanner muttered.
“Thank you.” Kate sipped the brew. “Delicious, and different.”
“I put a pinch of cinnamon bark in the coffeepot, thought you might like the taste better.”
“It’s wonderful, Matt. I would never have thought of it.”
“You got another cup?” Tanner asked hopefully.
“It’s in the kitchen,” Matt said, not taking the hint. He took the spot Luke had vacated. “I’ve got some canned huckleberries I’ve been saving. I might just make up a batch of my special pancakes.”
“Umm. Sounds great,” she said with a smile.
“I thought you ran out of them months ago. I remember the last time I wanted some—”
“I hid them. Been saving them for a special occasion,” Matt said, gazing at Kate.
It didn’t take a genius to see how he stood around here, Tanner thought. “Think I’ll get the chores done. Work up an appetite,” he said getting to his feet.
* * *
When Tanner reached the barn he discovered the mules had broken through the corral fence and, judging by their tracks, they were halfway up the mountain. Figuring he would eat before he looked for them, he tossed some hay into the manger for his horse, then he milked the cow and fed the chickens.
By the time he’d finished in the barn and returned to the house, the rest of them had already eaten. He didn’t get any pancakes, nor any coffee. His breakfast, which he’d had to cook himself, consisted of an egg and a piece of leftover steak so tough he could have used it to resole his boot.
He didn’t even get any conversation. With the boys chattering like magpies, he hadn’t been able to get a word in all morning. He stared at the table where his brothers were gathered around Kate like pages waiting on a queen at court. He had the feeling with the boys hanging around her all the time, he’d be lucky to steal a kiss, let alone anything else.
Courting Kate Page 13