by Jody Hedlund
Had he been as wrong about giving up on her as he’d been with the ranch? Did he need to find a way to hang on and fight for her, for them?
He had to convince her to stay a few more days, at least until he was done with butchering and selling the beef. He couldn’t do anything or go anywhere until he salvaged what he could of his herd. But after that, he’d travel to Denver with her and Astrid for the winter. Now without the cattle, Judd could more than handle the ranch by himself.
First he had to persuade her to give him a second chance, and he prayed to the good Lord she would.
Chapter 21
Greta awoke with a start. At the sight of sunlight pouring through the windowpane in the front room, she bolted upright in bed. The movement shot fire through every muscle and brought back the memory of the long night.
Before dawn, Wyatt had insisted she return to the cabin and asked Judd to take her back. Though they still had over half the cattle to finish butchering, she’d been too tired and cold to protest.
They’d stopped by the river to wash the blood from their hands. She’d already been frozen down to her bones from the frigid temperatures. And the iciness of the river had confirmed the urgency of making it out of the high country to Denver before it was too late.
Even so, she couldn’t leave Judd and Wyatt in such desperate straits. Though they hadn’t said so, she guessed they’d work through the day and again into the night until they finished the job.
After packing up a basket of food and coffee, she’d given it to Judd with the promise to bring more at noontime. She fed the chickens, milked the cow, and watered and fed Dolly and the four oxen that hadn’t been out in the pasture with the others. Then she’d fallen into bed next to Astrid.
Greta shoved the covers away and glanced again at the bright sunshine, attempting to gauge how much time had passed. She sensed it was later than she’d anticipated.
“Astrid?” she called as the cold of the cabin enveloped her and sent chills across her skin. She’d shed her garments from last night, and now they sat in a heap next to the bed, the blood splatters turning brown and crusty as they dried. Did she have time to scrub out the blood to prevent staining? She had so few garments and couldn’t abide losing an outfit.
Attired in only her shift, she touched her feet to the cold floorboards and shivered. “Astrid?”
When the little girl didn’t answer, Greta pushed all the way up and shuffled out of the bedroom, her muscles protesting each step. She glanced out the window, expecting to see Astrid with Chase. The chickens roamed the yard, but otherwise it was deserted without a sign of the girl or the pup.
Frustration pooled inside Greta. Before climbing into bed, she’d stressed to Astrid the need to stay in the cabin for the morning, explaining what had happened to the cattle. The girl had been sullen and quiet and had rolled over, ignoring Greta. At the time she’d been too tired to reprimand Astrid.
Returning to the bedroom, Greta heaved a breath. Hopefully, Astrid was just in the barn and hadn’t decided to go fishing. Greta didn’t have time this morning to track her down.
She dug through the trunk to find her oldest skirt, trying not to disturb her packing from the previous evening when her anger at Wyatt had given her all the energy she’d needed to place everything she and Astrid owned back into their trunk and bags.
Astrid had tried to stop her but had been too tired and resorted to curling up next to Chase in the bed and crying. “Please, Greta,” she’d pleaded through her sobs. “Please don’t make us leave.”
“We have to go.” Greta knelt in front of the trunk, folding another of Astrid’s skirts. Although she wanted to gather the girl in her arms and comfort her, she stiffened her backbone in order to make herself stand firm against Astrid’s pleas and wiles.
“Wyatt’s real sorry. Real sorry. I could see it. And he said he wants you and me to stay.”
“It doesn’t matter what Wyatt thinks.” Greta continued arranging the garments into a neat stack. “What matters is that you get better. And since you’re not getting better here the way I thought you would, now we need to try the hospital in Denver. Now before snow covers the mountain passes.”
Greta would probably earn enough for the stagecoach fare once she sold the butter she’d churned with cream from the new cow. But she didn’t know how she would afford the care or the lodging after they arrived in Denver. All she knew was that she had to get Astrid the help.
“I don’t want to go to a hospital.” Astrid hiccupped through her sobs.
“We have to try it. It’s all we have left.”
“I want to die here.” Tears streamed down the girl’s cheeks. “Please, Greta, let me die here where I’m happy.”
Greta’s heart, already aching from Wyatt’s betrayal, couldn’t hold any more pain. “You’re not dying, Astrid.”
“I am, and we both know it.”
“We can’t give up yet.”
“I’m not giving up; I’m just being realistic.” Astrid sounded much too grown-up.
Greta shook her head, unwilling to listen to the child’s gloomy predictions any longer. “I’m taking you to Denver tomorrow. So please resign yourself to leaving.”
She’d turned her back and held herself together until Astrid’s sobs had given way to slumber. Only then had she broken down and let the tears flow—tears for Astrid, for Wyatt, and for broken dreams. She’d still been crying when Judd had galloped into the yard and delivered the news that Brawley had slaughtered the cattle.
After that, she hadn’t had time to grieve. She’d been too consumed with helping Wyatt and Judd to feel sorry for herself and Astrid. Now, by the light of day with the trunk and bags staring at her, Greta’s heart grew heavy again.
She dressed quickly and then put a pot of coffee on the stove before starting her search for Astrid. As she crossed to the barn, the late-morning sunshine bathed her and brought warmth to her aching body. She glanced to the distant north pasture and pictured Wyatt as he’d been all night, bent over the dead steers, working feverishly to butcher them.
Deep inside, she knew she couldn’t remain angry at Wyatt for what he’d done. The truth was, she would have entered into the marriage of convenience even if she’d known fully about his cattle deal. She’d been too desperate to care.
And as much as he’d used her in an attempt to get what he needed, she’d used him to be able to stay in Fairplay and take care of Astrid. How, then, could she condemn him for being selfish when she was equally so?
At least he’d been honorable in keeping their marriage chaste. He could have taken advantage of her and used her in other ways, but he’d had the decency to give her a way out if that’s what she wanted.
Maybe he should have been more up-front with her about his arrangement with Mr. Steele, especially once they’d gotten to know each other better. But Wyatt had probably been worried about her reaction—and last night she’d proven he had reason to worry.
Now after losing his herd, he needed the loan from Mr. Steele if he had any chance of making it. Yet, once she left, Mr. Steele would pull out of the deal, and Wyatt wouldn’t be able to get the new herd.
Was there any way to help him keep the loan? Could they pretend to remain married for Mr. Steele’s sake? She gave a quick shake of her head. No, they’d already let the news of the pregnancy linger all week, and she couldn’t lie about anything else.
She lifted her gaze beyond the north pasture to the mountain peaks, including Kenosha Pass. The jagged rocks above the tree line were snow covered. And the snowfall would continue to accumulate. Her time was running out. All she had was today. She’d help Wyatt today, and then she needed to leave tomorrow.
Shoving aside her tumultuous thoughts, she picked up her pace. “Astrid? Come out, please.” She opened the barn doors and let the scent of the recently cut alfalfa greet her. The new dairy cow bleated, letting Greta know she was ready for her midday milking. But otherwise, the barn was silent and the shadows within were motio
nless.
After spinning on her heels, Greta retraced her steps to the cabin and then veered to the path that led down the embankment to the river. She called Astrid’s name and searched along the bank, checking the usual fishing spots.
With mounting irritation, Greta returned to the cabin and searched the perimeter of the barnyard, hoping to find Astrid playing with Chase or lounging in the shade taking a nap. Finally, Greta returned to the barn, climbed to the loft, and searched the stalls only to realize that Dolly was gone.
She breathed a sigh of relief even as she wanted to throttle the child. No doubt Astrid had taken the puppy and ridden out to see Wyatt and Judd and offer to help with the butchering.
While doing the milking and then cooking up a simple meal to take out to the pasture, Greta rehearsed the scolding she planned to give Astrid for disobeying and leaving in spite of the strict instructions not to go anywhere. She could only pray Wyatt would have the foresight not to let Astrid stay out in the pasture overlong.
When the noon hour passed, Greta’s insides stretched thin with impatience, even as she kept herself busy with the laundry. By midafternoon, she stood in the yard and peered into the distance toward the north pasture, fuming at Wyatt and Judd for not being stricter with Astrid and insisting that she come home.
As Greta paced back and forth, she made up her mind to set out by foot. It was a long walk, especially carrying food. But they’d left her no other choice. The moment she stepped out of the cabin with her bonnet securely in place and a basket in hand, she caught sight of a rider approaching.
She hoped to see two horses but realized Wyatt was returning without Astrid. She released an exasperated breath. The child had likely twisted Wyatt’s arm into staying. She lost sight of him when he reached the river and waited for him to cross over.
When minutes passed without sight of him, she set the basket down and hurried along the dirt path that led to the river. Upon reaching the bank, she stopped short at the sight of him stripped to his waist and kneeling at the water’s edge.
She hid behind a bush, though the branches with their dried leaves could hardly conceal her. Her mind traveled back to the first time she’d happened upon Wyatt at the river, how he’d been in his union suit. She had been embarrassed to see him in such scant attire and also reluctant to disturb his morning routine. Since then, she’d refrained from going to the river until he had time to groom and bathe.
Now in full daylight, his sculpted chest and arms and shoulders were fully visible. As he splashed water over his arms and scrubbed away the blood, she couldn’t make herself look away. She knew she ought to. She was leaving the ranch and couldn’t let herself admire this man, not when she’d never see him again.
She took a step back, but then he straightened and she froze again. The sunlight glistened off the water that ran down his arms and chest into the trousers that sat low on his hips. He’d discarded his hat in the grass next to his shirt, and his hair was damp and slicked back. His handsome features were made darker by the unshaven stubble that covered his jaw and chin.
He was the handsomest man she’d ever seen. She’d known it the day she’d first watched him saunter down the street toward her in Fairplay. And it was truer now seeing him this way.
She’d once marveled that he’d been interested in her since she wasn’t anyone special and didn’t have the ravishing beauty of some women. Now, after knowing about the cattle deal, she realized he hadn’t had any initial feelings of attraction.
Even if his interest had developed over the past few months, she no longer knew how to interpret his intentions.
“And it doesn’t matter,” she whispered to herself sternly. It didn’t matter what Wyatt thought about her. She was leaving, and he’d be free to find a woman of his own choosing when he was ready rather than having a stranger foisted on him.
“I can see you, Greta.” Humor laced his voice.
She pulled herself up tall, trying to retain some dignity. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d be bathing, or I wouldn’t have come.”
“Didn’t think you’d want me walking into the cabin full of blood and guts.”
“True.” Although, after today it wouldn’t matter. The thought filled her with wistfulness. “I’ll let you finish and meet you at the cabin.”
Without waiting for a response, she started back up the path and was surprised a moment later when he caught up with her, leading his horse. Although he’d put his hat back on, he was still bare chested.
As he fell into step next to her, she couldn’t stop from ogling him once more. Up close, his body was more beautiful, the muscles in his arms taut and bulging, his chest smooth and corded.
He slanted a glance at her and cocked a brow.
Heat infused her cheeks, and she picked up her pace. “You really should put your shirt on.”
“I reckon you’re right, and I apologize.” He kept stride with her. “But figured you wouldn’t want to see me decked out in this.” He held up his balled-up shirt, which was damp with sweat and blood and all manner of filth.
She was acting like a prude when there was no reason to. “I should be the one apologizing. You have every reason to go shirtless, and I shouldn’t even be thinking about such things at a time like this.”
“What things?”
“Your bare chest.” The moment the words were out, she flushed again. “I mean, I shouldn’t be thinking about how you look without a shirt—” She cut herself off. The more she talked, the more awkward she was making the situation. She’d do better to say nothing more about it, to change topics entirely.
“How do I look?”
“I’d rather not say.” As they crested the rise, the cabin came into view, and she was suddenly anxious to disappear inside and put a safe distance between herself and Wyatt.
“Hopefully, better than I feel.” He released a weary sigh, one that stirred her compassion. After all that had happened and the long hours of work, he had to be weary and hungry and frustrated.
“You look good,” she conceded, hoping to encourage him but once again feeling as though she’d overstepped herself.
“Good? That’s all?” His tone contained a note of teasing that helped ease some of her discomfort.
“I refuse to say anything further.” She lowered her head, letting the brim of her bonnet shield her embarrassment.
He reached for her hand and stopped abruptly, tugging her to a halt next to him and twisting her until she was facing him. He stood an arm’s length away and examined her from her head to her toes, the light in his eyes making her skin tingle with strange anticipation.
She waited for him to say something, but he dropped his gaze and let it wander again. “What are you doing?” She was surprised to find herself somewhat breathless.
“You got to stare at me. Figured it’s only fair I get to do the same to you.”
“There’s nothing to stare at.” She tried to tug her hand free.
He held her fast. “From where I’m standing, there’s a whole lot to stare at. You’re the prettiest woman I ever did see.”
The tingles changed to hot streaks that raced along her limbs. Even so, the insecurity of moments ago came back. “You’re just being nice.”
“Nice? I ain’t in the habit of saying things to be nice.” His fingers tightened against hers, and with his other hand he reached up and skimmed her collarbone.
The touch was so light and unexpected and exquisite she forgot to breathe.
For a moment his fingers stalled, then he captured the fluttering ribbon of her bonnet and tugged it, loosening first one side and then the other. Before she knew it, he pushed her hat back so she was left defenseless without anything to hide behind.
As she allowed herself to meet his gaze, she lost herself in the heartache and desperation in the dark, vast woodland of his eyes. She could read there his keen disappointment in losing his cattle and now possibly having to give up on his ranch. She could read the frustration and understood
it well after how hard they’d worked all autumn. And she could sense his disappointment in himself for not finding a way to make his dreams come true.
He lifted his hand, and this time he caressed her neck starting by her earlobe and ending at the hollow of her throat. Again, she couldn’t breathe, could only watch the murky brown of his eyes and feel his pain deep within herself.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely. “I never meant to hurt you. And now that I’ve lost everything I’ve been working for, I realize you’re all I really want.”
His words, his touch, the honesty—it reached deep inside and stirred the emotion she’d been trying so hard to ignore, an emotion she could no longer deny. In spite of everything, she was without a doubt falling in love with Wyatt.
“With all that’s going on,” he continued, his voice still hoarse, “I know this ain’t the best timing. But I had to see you and ask you to wait to go—at least ’til we can talk. I kept thinking I’d ride back today only to find you and Astrid long gone.”
She started to nod, but then froze. “Hasn’t Astrid been out working with you and Judd?”
“Nope.” His brow shot up, and his eyes clouded with confusion.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure as a gun.”
Greta’s world crumbled in one swift fell. And she knew exactly what had happened. Astrid had run away.
Chapter 22
Greta’s face lost all color, and she swayed as though her legs might give out. Wyatt grabbed her arm to keep her from toppling.
“What’s going on?” He tried to steady her even as his own exhaustion took a slug at him.
Her eyes widened and filled with horror.
“Calm down and tell me what’s wrong.”
Her fingers shook, and her silver blue eyes brimmed with tears. “Astrid’s gone.”
“Where’d she go?”
“I don’t know. She’s been gone since I awoke this morning. I thought she rode out to work with you and Judd. . . .”