Samantha cupped his chin and raised his face so he’d look into her eyes. “You’ll need to be patient with David. Can you do that?”
“I can talk for both of us.”
“That you can.” Samantha gave Daniel a hug, which he wiggled out of. His mother released him, and he beelined for David.
The two women watched. Harriet held her breath.
Daniel bounced to a stop in front of David and immediately started talking.
David looked startled, and his eyes widened. But he didn’t appear scared, and the lost look had vanished.
Daniel plopped himself down next to David and started a one-sided conversation, seemingly unconcerned that his new companion remained uncommunicative.
Sudden tears glistened in Samantha’s eyes. “When we lived in Argentina on the hacienda, Daniel didn’t have friends. His cousins were unkind. When we moved to Montana, he took well to his adopted brothers, but they’re older, and it’s still an adjustment. Now...to see him go right up to David and pitch himself into a friendship... He’s grown a lot since we came here.”
“He has indeed.”
Samantha hooked her arm through Harriet’s. “Come on. Let’s leave them to it.”
Side-by-side they walked back to the house. Startled by the sense of companionship she felt, Harriet allowed herself to relax. If only she could board at the Thompson’s! But it was too far away from the school in the winter. Still, she felt as though David wasn’t the only one making a much-needed friend today.
* * *
David sat on the straw bale next to Daniel, enjoying the sound of the fiddle and the swirl of the dancers. Daniel chattered away, about his brothers, his horses, Argentina, school, and whatever else caught his attention. David mostly didn’t listen, but he liked the sound of the boy’s words that rose and fell with only the faintest hint of an accent.
He kept his eye on his uncle, tall and black-haired like the monster Pa had said he was. Just watching him made a shiver of fear go through his belly. David had walked almost on tiptoe around the man, his body tensed to run just in case. So far the big man hadn’t given any sign of badness, had been pretty good to him. David tapped his feet, just so he could feel his new boots. The novelty hadn’t yet worn off, although he wore an extra pair of socks to protect his feet.
But David knew he had to be prepared. His pa had nice moments too. David scratched his chin. At least he used to.
“Look!” Daniel yelled, pointing to where a man lifted a woman into the air. He spun her until her brown skirt swirled out, and she shrieked with laughter.
David almost laughed, too. He could feel a little bubble of glee inside him, but the feeling died rather than popping out.
Routinely, he tensed and looked behind and around him, then relaxed when there was no sight of his pa. Funny, how he could still worry about that. He caught sight of the pretty schoolteacher sitting by herself on a straw bale. Her eyes looked sad.
David knew sad.
I wish I could live with her.
* * *
Harriet sat on one of the straw bales that circled the makeshift dance floor. Overhead, Chinese lanterns tied to the trees, swung on lines that crossed over the area. They glowed, not unlike the plump moon in the sky that cast milky light over the scene. The crowd spilled out of the house. In the dark, it was hard to tell the porch was still missing and other parts not completed. It looked like a beautiful, moonlit Queen Anne home.
Around her, people milled around talking or sat on straw bales watching the vigorous dancing. A skinny fiddler with elongated arms and legs, whom Harriet didn’t know, pranced about the middle of the “floor” like a spider, setting couples to twirling around his web.
Several bales over, David remained side-by-side with Daniel, seeming to enjoy the music. The two boys were complete opposites in their attentiveness. Daniel couldn’t sit still. He talked, carved words with his hands, and bounced in his seat, showing his enjoyment of the scene. David sat like a stone next to him. But in the torchlight, Harriet could see the expression on his face had relaxed from its customary tightness.
Harriet smiled, thinking ahead to the next school year. She’d be trying to still fidgety Daniel so he wouldn’t distract the others and coax quiet David to recite his homework. Hopefully, by then, the boy would be talking. She welcomed the challenge.
Ant stood talking with a group of men, towering over them with his great height. From the occasional shouts of laughter, they were having a good time. But she could see he didn’t forget his nephew. He’d angled himself so he had a straight view of the boy.
Harriet sighed, wistful, wishing she could dance, but her ankle wasn’t healed enough to bounce on. Yet as the evening went on, Harriet realized that she wasn’t enjoying herself as much as she expected to. While she felt comfortable in the presence of men she knew well—Reverend Norton, John Carter, Mr. Cobb, Wyatt Thompson, and some other fathers of her students, she cringed inside when a stranger approached her, feeling fearful that he might hurt her.
No matter how much she scolded herself, the reaction didn’t go away. So she forced herself to be polite and friendly. And she must have succeeded in acting like herself because no one gave her any strange glances. She still had plenty of company, bashful or brash cowboys, some of the men from town. Ranchers. But not the one I want.
Nick sashayed by with Elizabeth in his arms. She laughed and held on, her delight plain to see. Harriet turned away from the sight of them.
Miss Tillie Cavin plopped herself down next to Harriet, fanning herself with her hand, panting to recover her breath. “I declare, I haven’t sat out one dance!” she said in a complacent, although breathless, tone. “It’s too bad, Miss Stanton, that you can’t dance tonight.” She giggled, which shook the curls around her forehead.
Those curls must have taken her an hour with the hot iron.
Miss Cavin giggled again. “You sitting out frees up more men for the rest of us.”
With her gaunt body, bony face, and empty head, only the dearth of women compared to men made Tillie Cavin a belle of the ball. Harriet regretted the uncharitable thought as soon as she thought it. Miss Cavin, although silly and empty headed, had a good heart and was always willing to help out those in need. One of these days, a man who could appreciate those qualities would snap her up.
“Oh, there’s that Mr. Gordon. I declare. He frightens me, him so big and dark. Looks like a bandit or a rustler or a robber, although he’s clean and dresses fine. Kept me awake all night the first time I saw him. If he’d ask me to dance,” she tossed her head, bouncing her curls, “I’d say no. Who knows what he’d do to a girl!”
“Miss Cavin, don’t be ridiculous. I’ve spent quite a lot of time with Mr. Gordon, and he’s been a perfect gentleman.” Except for those kisses. The thought made her cheeks heat, and she hoped the darkness covered her blush. “I’ve found him to be quite kind. Heroic even.”
Tillie wrinkled her nose.
“When I first saw him, he frightened me, too. But when I became acquainted with him, I learned to feel comfortable around him. I’m sure you will too.”
The woman shuddered. “I don’t know, Miss Stanton. Who knows what he’d do to a gal?”
A surge of anger shot through Harriet. She opened her mouth to utter a stinging rejoinder, but a grizzled cowboy appeared in front of them and offered Tillie his gnarled hand. She squealed, put her hand in his, and jumped up.
Annoyed, Harriet stood up, wanting to get away from everyone to cool her temper. As her feet took her away from the scene, she realized she was heading in the direction of the house Nick and Elizabeth had lived in this past year. Harriet decided to keep going. She wanted to go see the house that Nick had built and dream a little in the moonlight. She left the dancing and walked through the trees on the edge of the lake, feeling a breeze cool her face. She needed to escape the sight of Nick and Elizabeth dancing.
Harriet approached from the side along the path that probably led to the kitchen d
oor. She halted at the last oak, making sure no one was around. Moonlight gleamed on the
whitewashed boards of the house and on the yellow roses planted on the split rail fence surrounding the yard.
Her heartbeat fluttered, and sadness and longing twisted in her stomach. She couldn’t believe Elizabeth had discarded the home that Harriet would have given anything to own. Tears filled her eyes and blurred the outlines of the house. She leaned against the oak until the wave of sorrow passed.
The sound of approaching voices drifted through the trees.
Harriet shrank closer to the tree, so no one would see her.
On the path opposite her, Nick and Elizabeth walked hand in hand. They passed Harriet’s tree and kept going until they stopped in front of the house, not ten feet away from her.
Elizabeth leaned into Nick. “I didn’t realize how reluctant I’d be to leave.”
He put an arm around her. “You mean we could have just stayed here,” Nick teased. “Not built that monstrosity on the hill.”
“Nick! It’s not a monstrosity. You should stop calling it that, or everyone will think I forced you to build it.”
“I could have sworn you stood over me and the rest of the builders with a bullwhip.”
“That, as you well know, was because Eugenia was standing over me with the whip. Who knows what she would have done with everything if she had to wait one week longer to redecorate my brother’s house from top to bottom. We should thank God having the baby slowed her down.”
Nick gave her a smile that was so tender it brought tears to Harriet’s eyes.
“I thank God for your sister-in-law every day, Elizabeth.”
“Silly man.” Elizabeth laid her head on his shoulder.
“If she hadn’t married your brother, you’d never have come to Montana.”
“And we never would have married.” She lifted her head. “I’m so glad the mansion is almost finished, and we’ve finally moved in. Yet...I’ve spent the happiest year of my life in this house. You built it with your own hands...with some help.” She laughed. “Small and fast so we could get married right away, instead of waiting for the big house to finish.” Elizabeth pointed toward an unlit window. “I learned to cook in that kitchen.”
“And I learned to eat what you cooked, no matter how burned or strange tastin’.”
Elizabeth elbowed him.
“Hey,” he pretended to dodge.
“I’m trying to be serious.” Elizabeth placed a hand on her stomach. “Our child was conceived in the bedroom.” She reached up to wipe away a tear.
Nick hugged her to him. “Now who’s being silly?” He kissed the top of her head.
Harriet shut her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see any more. But she couldn’t drown out the sound of their kissing.
“Do you think anyone would notice if we said goodbye to our house in the bedroom,” Nick said in a suggestive tone.
Elizabeth gave a shaky laugh. “I think we’d be missed.
“Then, we’ll christen the new house once everyone leaves.”
AAGGG! Harriet would have slammed her hands over her ears, but she didn’t dare move. If they caught sight of her.... The very thought made her blush with shame.
She opened her eyes.
Elizabeth wiggled free from Nick’s embrace. She took his hand, and, with the other waved at the house. “Good-bye, little house. Thank you for being such a lovely home for us. I hope everyone who lives in you will be as happy as we are!”
“Not possible.”
She laughed. “Almost as happy as we are.”
“Now, wife,” Nick bent toward her stomach, “and child.” He straightened. “It’s time to return to our party. We’ve worked a long time for this, and we need to enjoy the fruits of our labors. I want to dance with my wife some more.”
Elizabeth wrapped both her arms around Nick and gave him a kiss. He returned the kiss with fervor.
Harriet squeezed her eyes shut and rested her forehead against the tree. Will they never leave!
Finally, the two stopped, and she heard the crunch of footsteps walking away. She pressed a hand to her stomach, trying to quell the nausea churning there. What had started out as a nostalgic and sad little journey had turned sordid and shameful. She’d eavesdropped on the couple’s private moments, and all that had done was drive a knife deeper into her heart.
* * *
Standing in the group of men, talking crops and politics, Ant felt a sense of kinship...of belonging. They’d worked together today, he and these men, building camaraderie.
Ant watched Harriet leave the crowd watching the dancers and sidle off toward the lake. A quick glance around showed him that no one else had noticed. He checked on David, who seemed as relaxed as Ant had ever seen him, next to another boy his own age. Ant had watched them together for the last hour or so, and, although the other boy did all the talking, a fast friendship seemed to be forming between the two.
I might have made the right decision to stay here.
Conscious of needing a reprieve from uncle duties, Ant eased out of the group of men. He sauntered over to the trestle tables, still loaded with some, although not much, uneaten food and pretended to search for something else to eat. Then, as if he’d changed his mind, he headed in the direction Harriet had taken. He cut through some trees to head her off, hoping for some private time with her in the moonlight by the lake, hidden by the trees from prying eyes. The cheerful violin music trailed after him, and he found himself almost matching his footsteps to the beat.
He rounded some trees and realized he’d become privy to some intimacy between a man and his wife, although thank goodness, he couldn’t hear what they said to each other. But he could clearly see Harriet’s face, and the pain he saw there gave credence to a rumor that had been hinted to him a time or two.
Harriet is in love with Nick Sanders.
Ant felt as if he’d been punched in the gut, and wasn’t sure why. Yes, he’d felt attracted to the woman, given her some casual kisses, and might have come to feel more. Maybe did feel more. He didn’t know. All he knew was that a place long frozen in his heart had begun to thaw, and look where it got him—an attraction to a woman who loved another—even if he was already taken. Ant had experienced enough pain in his life without looking for more.
He’d been warned and could pull back while there was still time to emerge from this situation without further pain.
Maybe I should leave this town, but I promised the Almighty I’d stay. I’m bound by that.
Ant walked back to the dancers, thinking to collect David and head on back to Widow Murphy’s. The music of the violin swirled around him, but the scene that had previously sounded so festive now felt flat. The feeling he’d had earlier—the sense of belonging—had vanished with this realization of Harriet’s attraction for another.
An older man with a craggy face framed by a bushy gray beard and thinning hair came up to him. To his recollection, he hadn’t yet met the man.
The man stopped in front of him and extended his hand. “Abe Maguire.”
“Ant Gordon.” They shook.
The man tucked his thumbs in his suspenders over his potbelly and rocked on his heels. “Hear tell you’re gonna stay here.”
“Hear tell?” He’d only told the minister. Ant didn’t like the idea of all and sundry knowing his business.
“Talked to the preacher earlier. Told him I was heading out to live with my daughter. Selling my house.”
That caught Ant’s attention. “Tell me about it.”
The man jerked his head in the direction of town. “Half mile on the other side of town. Nice farm.”
Ant shook his head. “I’m not a farmer.”
Able snorted. “No more land to farm. Sold it off to Harrison, my neighbor. He didn’t want the house, though. Has a good one of his own and only one girl. Don’t need another.”
“How big?”
“’Bout the size of Doc Cameron’s. Three bedrooms. Wife and
I had one. Boys one and the girls another.”
“Don’t any of your children want the house?”
“Scattered around. Except for my daughter. And she has a bigger house.”
“How old is your place?”
“Built it for my bride back in ’59. Kept it up good ’til the last few years when my wife was doing poorly. Solid though. Logs. Built it to last.” He looked away. “Never thought I’d walk away from it. Wife died last year. Ain’t the same.”
Ant had a feeling the man’s grief ran deep. Must not be easy to leave a place where you belong. Even if it’s lonesome there. Uncomfortable, he shifted, then he, too, looked away. He brought his gaze back to McGuire. “I’m sorry for your loss.” The pain on the man’s face made Ant offer up a bit more. “Know what it’s like to lose a good woman.”
The older man couldn’t meet Ant’s eyes. He just swallowed and scuffed a booted foot across the dirt.
Ant checked on David and saw his nephew raise his hand to point at something. The boy next to him rocked back and forth with laughter. Even in his silence, his nephew was communicating...making a friend.
Suddenly Ant knew. They were staying. David’s small victory cinched it. “I’ll ride out tomorrow and take a look.”
The man shook his head. “Tomorra’s Sunday. It’s church, then spendin’ the day at my daughter’s. Ride out Monday, can ya?”
Ant nodded.
Abe gave him directions and walked away, heading for the buggies and wagons parked at the side of the house.
Ant gazed after him, wondering about the depths of grief that came from a lifetime of loving a wife. He’d only had Isabella for six months, and her death still hurt. He thought back to Harriet...the look on her face as she spied on Nick and Elizabeth. Yes, it’s better to keep my heart to myself.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sunday morning, Ant discovered getting David ready for church wasn’t as easy as any other morning. For one thing, even though the boy didn’t speak a word, his body protested loud and clear that he didn’t want to go to the service.
Truth be, Ant couldn’t blame him. He didn’t want to either. Irritation made him snappish. At one point, Ant spoke sharply to David for him to hurry up, then immediately regretted it when the boy cringed away from him, a wild look in his eyes.
Debra Holland Page 14