Robin Lee Hatcher

by When Love Blooms

  It grows late, and I had better close this letter and get some sleep. Our days begin before daybreak.

  Please pray that I will be a good teacher for the children and a caring companion for Mrs. Blake. And also that Mr.Blake wouldn’t object to me quite so much as he does. I do so want to prove myself.

  Your loving sister,

  Emily

  Eight

  Emily looked up from the book. The room was wrapped in silence while the usually boisterous girls concentrated on their studies.

  Petula leaned over her slate, a piece of chalk pinched between chubby fingers, copying her letters while frowning in concentration. The girl would have the alphabet conquered in no time. She was determined and eager to learn.

  Emily’s gaze shifted to the opposite end of the table where Sabrina sat. The tip of her tongue could be seen in the corner of her mouth as she worked on her math lesson. Sabrina had made it clear that she disliked arithmetic, but she never gave up before she found the right answers.

  Satisfaction washed over Emily. She hadn’t dreamed she would enjoy teaching this much. If she had, she would have made it her vocation long ago. It was exciting to see the children’s eyes light with understanding, to answer their questions, to expand their horizons. When she returned to Boise in the spring, she would seek another teaching position at once.

  When she returned to Boise. The words saddened her more than they should. She’d grown attached to these girls, to this family, in the short time she’d been here. Spring would come too quickly.

  A door closed softly behind Emily, and she turned toward the sound. Dru smiled as their eyes met, then she placed an index finger to her lips, indicating she didn’t want to disturb the children. With silent footsteps, she made her way across the living room to a chair near the fireplace. Once there, she sat, pulled a lap rug over her knees, and closed her eyes.

  In the four days since Gavin and the other men drove the cattle from the valley, Emily had begun to understand how ill Dru was. The moment her husband rode away, she had wilted before Emily’s eyes. Her face looked older, more tired. Her shoulders were stooped. She smiled less often; only her daughters brought a look of joy into her eyes.

  Emily wished she could ask the exact nature of her illness, but something in the woman’s demeanor forbade her from doing so.

  She would have to wait until the information was offered.

  “Miss Harris.” An index finger poked her arm.

  Emily looked at Petula.

  “I did ’em.” The girl held out the slate. “I did ’em all. Just like yours.”

  “Yes, Pet. You’ve done a fine job. You learn things fast. Your mother wasn’t exaggerating when she said you were bright.”

  Petula cocked her head to one side. “What’s exag . . . exagger . . .”

  “Exaggerating.” She printed the word on the slate. “It means to make things seem bigger or better than they really are.”

  The girl’s eyes widened. “You mean lie? Ma wouldn’t ever tell a lie.”

  Emily laughed as she smoothed Petula’s hair back from her face. “Of course she wouldn’t. Your mother is a very honest woman.”

  “Girls?”

  They all turned at the sound of Dru’s voice.

  “Why don’t you take a break from your lessons and get some fresh air? You could take Miss Harris for a ride up to the ridge. There might not be another chance before we leave the basin, as cold as the nights are turning.”

  Sabrina pushed her pencil and paper toward the center of the table. “Will you come too, Ma? We could take a picnic lunch.”

  “No, darling. I think I’ll stay here and rest. I’m feeling quite tired today. But a picnic seems a good idea for all of you.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t go, Mrs. Blake.” Emily rose from her chair and walked toward the fireplace.

  “Nonsense. I could use some peace and quiet.” Dru’s smile never reached her eyes. It was there and gone in an instant. “Go on and have some fun. It’s good for the children to get to know you better. You should be more than their teacher. I want you to be their friend too.”

  “Well, if you’re sure. I hate leaving you all alone. With the men gone, I — ”

  “I’ll be fine.” Dru flicked her fingers. “Go on with you. And have a good time.”

  Their faces wreathed in grins, the girls climbed the ladder to the loft and returned a short while later with britches on beneath their skirts.

  “We’ll get the horses into the barn and brush ’em down,” Sabrina told Emily. “But you’ll have to help with the saddles. I can get the saddle on the horses’ backs, but I’m not very good with the cinches.” A shadow of doubt darkened her eyes. “Can you do that?”

  “I’m an excellent horsewoman, Sabrina Blake. I can certainly help you with the saddles. I’ll change into riding attire and join you in the barn.”

  After the front door swung closed, Emily looked at Dru. “Is there anything I can get you before we go?”

  The woman shook her head, her eyes closed once again. “Just take care of my girls. When I’m not around, take care of my girls.”

  “Mrs. Blake?” Emily took another step forward. “Are you certain — ”

  “Yes, I’m certain.” She drew in a breath and released it. “I’ll enjoy having the house all to myself for a spell. Take some dried apples and slices of cheese and bread. You’ll be hungry by the time you reach the ridge.” Her smile looked strangely sad. “It’s one of my favorite places in the world,” she added in a whisper. Then she was silent. Perhaps she even slept.

  Emily hesitated a moment longer before she turned and walked to her bedroom, careful not to make a sound.

  Gavin slowed his horse as he approached the cabin. He’d left Stubs and Jess with the herd along the Salmon River yesterday. With the aid of Duke and Duchess — two of the best cow dogs he’d owned — the cowboys would drive the herd the rest of the way to the Lucky Strike.

  It hadn’t taken much encouragement from Stubs for Gavin to turn around and head back to the basin. Things had been quiet on the summer range this year, but he didn’t like leaving the women and children alone for long. The Bannock tribes had caused trouble on occasion, plus there were always a few strangers — most of them miners — wandering through the valley. Even though he’d only been gone a few days, he needed to know all was well with Dru and the girls . . . and Emily.

  As if summoned by his thoughts, Emily Harris stepped out the front door of the cabin. She wore a powder-blue riding habit with a matching bonnet swathed in darker blue netting. For all the world a woman of society, wealth, and beauty.

  He pulled his gelding to a halt.

  Although loathe to admit it, it had been her image that haunted his thoughts during the past four days. Emily smiling. Emily laughing. Emily hanging laundry. Emily with the children. Emily speaking with Dru. She had been in his thoughts when he rose in the morning and in them when he bedded down for the night.

  As he watched, she checked the cinch of the saddle on the stocky mare the girls always rode. That’s when Sabrina and Petula stepped into view from the opposite side of the horse. Emily said something to them, and Sabrina laughed before slipping her foot into the stirrup and swinging onto the saddle. Then Emily lifted Petula onto the mare behind her sister. More laughter carried to him across the distance. The sound had been all too scarce in recent months. For all the reasons he had — good reasons too — for not wanting the young woman here, he had to admit she’d brought laughter back to Dru and the girls. For that he was grateful.

  Emily moved aside the train of her riding habit with a tiny kick as she turned toward Dru’s palomino. It was an easy, graceful movement, much like everything she did. She mounted the horse with practiced ease, hooking her right knee over the pommel and ignoring the extra stirrup.

  Fool woman. This wasn’t some fancy park like the ones gentlewomen rode in back east, and that wasn’t a sidesaddle on her horse either.

  He nudged his gelding forw
ard. Dru came outside as he rode into the yard.

  “Gavin.” She moved toward him. “We didn’t expect you back until tomorrow or the next day.” She laid her hand on his knee. “You’re just in time to go with Miss Harris and the girls up to the ridge. They’re taking a picnic lunch with them.”

  His gaze flicked to Emily, then back to Dru. “You coming too?”

  “No.”

  “I’d better stay here.”

  “Please come, Pa,” Sabrina said.

  “Yes, please,” Petula chimed in.

  “Perhaps your father is too tired,” Emily offered. “He can join us another time.”

  It was true. He was tired. But he didn’t like her being the one to say so.

  “Go with them.” There was a pleading tone in Dru’s words. “It’ll be good for the girls to have some time with you.”

  His chest tightened as he was reminded again of what was ahead. “All right. I’ll go, but we won’t be long.”

  “Take all the time you want.” Dru smiled at each one of them in turn. “Enjoy yourselves.”

  Gavin glanced at Emily in her fancy riding attire, the kind of clothes Dru would never wear, the kind that he could never provide for her daughters either. It irritated him, just to look at her. “We won’t enjoy it much if Miss Harris falls off her horse and breaks her neck.”

  She sat a little straighter. “I won’t fall off.”

  “That saddle’s meant to be used astride.” He pointed at the palomino. “And that mare’s not used to being ridden sidesaddle.”

  “I assure you, Mr. Blake, that I can handle both this horse and this saddle.” With that, she clucked her tongue and touched her heel to the mare’s side. “Come along, Brina.”

  Before Gavin could follow, Dru touched his leg a second time. “Give her a chance. Whatever’s stuck in your craw, it isn’t Emily’s fault. There’s a lot about that young woman to like, and you will see it if you only try.”

  He nodded but didn’t reply as he tightened his heels against the gelding’s ribs and started after the other three.

  Emily felt Gavin’s gaze on her back, as tangible as a touch of his fingers would be. Knowing he watched made her nervous, made it hard to concentrate on anything the children said. If only he had returned half an hour later . . .

  “Look, Miss Harris.” Sabrina pointed toward the tree line, where green forest stopped and the jutting crags of the Sawtooth peaks began. “The sheep. Up there. See it?”

  “Sheep?” Emily squinted as her gaze swept the mountainside.

  The heavy-bodied animal didn’t look like any sheep she had seen before. It reminded her of a short, squat deer with its brown coat and white rump. It could have been a deer except for its head. Even from this distance, she saw the pair of massive, spiraling horns.

  “It’s a bighorn sheep.” Gavin rode up beside her. “The Sheepeater Indians were named for them because the bighorn are a staple of their diet. Better than mutton. We eat them regular in the summer. They’re easy to hunt except when they climb up that high.”

  His nearness increased her anxiety. What if she fell off this saddle, as he’d warned? That would please him no end.

  But it was silly of her to think it. She’d sat more high-spirited horses than this docile mare. She wasn’t in danger of falling, with or without Gavin Blake’s company. She drew a deep breath as she nudged the mare to the right, putting some space between her horse and his.

  A short while later, the trail led them into the forest, tall pines towering over them, filtering the sunlight. She heard the breathing of the horses and the crunch of their hooves on the carpet of dried needles. Doing his part to break the mountain silence, Joker barked as he raced ahead of them.

  A line from the Psalms came to her, and she spoke it aloud. “Let the field be joyful, and all that is therein: then shall all the trees of the wood rejoice.” That’s what it was like, here in this forest. As if the trees themselves were rejoicing in their Creator.

  She would do the same. She would set her thoughts on the Lord rather than the oft-times surly Gavin Blake, and she would be the better for it.

  Gavin hadn’t much knowledge of the Scriptures, but unless he missed his guess, Emily had been quoting from the Bible. Perhaps it had been the soft reverence in her voice that gave it away.

  Dru wanted her daughters raised in a Chris tian home. He supposed that was one reason she was so keen on Miss Harris. Emily shared Dru’s faith, and she would make sure Sabrina and Petula remembered all that their mother had taught them. If she stuck it out. If she lasted long enough. He still wasn’t convinced she would. She was young and inexperienced. Wait until winter set in. Wait until Dru’s health worsened.

  Emily’s horse pulled ahead of his as the trail narrowed. She sat her horse with ease, her body swaying with the horse’s gait, her posture straight and sure. Watching her almost mesmerized him.

  He gave his head a slow shake and forced his gaze in another direction. He had no business letting his thoughts get caught up on that young woman. He had a sick wife and two stepdaughters who would soon be motherless. Those were the people he should be thinking about. In fact, he should turn his horse around and go back to Dru right now.

  The trail spilled out of the forest and into the clearing on the ridge. As soon as they all brought their horses to a halt, Emily looked over her shoulder at Gavin. “It’s spectacular!” She clapped her hands together. “I never imagined it would be so beautiful. No wonder Dru loves to come here.” She faced forward again, taking in the panoramic scene.

  From this vantage point, they had a clear view of the rocky mountain sentinels that surrounded the basin. Through the dense woods below them, they caught glimpses of the crystal-clear lakes that dotted the area, the icy waters fed by melting glaciers, and the Salmon River that wove through the tall, drying grass on the valley floor. The colors of autumn were everywhere. Reds and oranges and yellows were splashed among the forest greens, aspen and birch trees quivering in the breeze.

  “It’s so . . . so untouched,” Emily said, her tone reverent.

  Gavin dismounted and walked to her horse. “Let me help you down. There’s a spot over there where you can see even more.”

  Their eyes met, and he saw the wariness there. Did she think he would drop her? She might, given how coolly he’d treated her from the beginning. At last, she leaned forward and placed her hands on his shoulders, allowing him to lower her to the ground. She was light, yet there was something real and solid about her. Not like Dru, who was wasting away to nothing.

  The breeze ruffled the net of her bonnet and teased him with whiffs of her honeysuckle cologne.

  “Thank you, Mr. Blake.”

  It wasn’t until she pulled away that he realized he’d held onto her waist after her feet touched the ground. He rubbed his palms on his trouser legs and turned toward the children, hoping they could distract him from the unwelcome sense of loss that had filled him after Emily moved from his grasp.

  Nine

  Sabrina didn’t always like being the oldest. Sometimes it was hard. She knew things her little sister didn’t know. Sometimes she heard the adults talking when they thought she was asleep. Other times they thought she wasn’t smart enough to understand what they were saying. But she was smart enough. She did understand. She longed to be able to talk to somebody about the things she heard and the things she knew. But who? She couldn’t talk to her little sister about any of it because it might scare her. She couldn’t talk to Ma because Ma didn’t want her to know.

  Sabrina remembered when their pa was gored by the bull. Not Gavin, their new pa, but their real pa. She’d heard her ma weeping after Mr. Martin and Mr. Chamberlain brought him home in the wagon, and she’d known he was gonna die. Nobody had to tell her. She’d just known. And now she knew their ma was gonna die too. Ma tried to hide it, tried real hard, but Sabrina still knew.

  Some days it was nice to pretend she didn’t know. Days like today, up there on the ridge with her pa and
Miss Harris and Petula. Days when she could play games, like she and her sister were doing now. The two girls stood with their backs pressed against a tree, waiting to see if Miss Harris would find them in their game of hide and seek.

  “Brina?” Petula tugged on her skirt. “What’re those?” She pointed at large prints carved into the hardened earth.

  Sabrina studied the prints, then answered, “Bear tracks, I think.”

  “Is there a bear around here now?” Her little sister scooted closer to Sabrina’s side.

  ”Shh.” She put an index finger to her lips. “We don’t want Miss Harris to hear us.”

  “But is the bear around?”

  “No, those tracks are old. They were made when the ground was muddy. See? It’s hard now.”

  “I’m scared of bears, Brina. I think we oughta go back. Miss Harris would be scared too if she knew there was a bear around here.”

  As if summoned, Miss Harris called for them. “Brina! Pet! Game’s over. You win. Your father says it’s time to go.”

  Sabrina squeezed Petula’s hand. “Let’s see if it scares her.” She grinned. “Let’s pretend there’s a bear chasing us.”

  “Come on, girls.” Miss Harris’s voice was closer now. “We don’t want to be gone so long that it worries your mother.”

  Sabrina let go of her sister’s hand and ran from their hiding place. “A bear! There’s a bear after us!”

  Petula shrieked as she followed right behind.

  Sabrina had expected their governess to turn and run away with them.

  Instead, Miss Harris grabbed each of them by their hands before they could rush past her, drawing them to a sudden halt. “I’ve never seen a bear before. Let’s wait and have a look at him. Is he very big? What color is he?”

  Sabrina felt a flash of panic. What if there was a bear? What if the prints weren’t old?