Winds of Paradise (Paradise Valley Book 2)

by Vivi Holt

  Jane held out her hand again. “Good evening. I’m Jane Wilder, the new schoolmistress.”

  The woman shook it with a grin, then fixed her bonnet self-consciously. “Well, well. Pleased to meet ya, Miss Wilder – I’m Laura Langston, Rev. Langston’s wife. Won’t ya come in? We don’t usually get visitors to the chapel door this time o’ night, seein’ as the Reverend and I live in the cottage yonder. But I just happened to be checkin’ on the candles in the chapel since we burned so many Sunday last and I heard the rap on the door. Who could it be, I says, knockin’ at this hour? Must be an emergency or somethin’ o’ the like. Come in, come in, dear girl. Ya can stay with us in the cottage tonight and we’ll show ya to yer quarters tomorrow, if that suits.”

  Jane nodded her thanks, picked up her carpetbag and pulled her trunk into the chapel. She glanced back to see Dr. Underhill making his way across the street to the hotel. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Langston – I’m so glad to be here. Your cottage sounds delightful. You can’t know how glad I am to be able to sleep indoors on a bed, let me tell you. I know it was only three nights, but it felt like an eternity.”

  Mrs. Langston laughed heartily, from the depths of her belly. “Ah yes, I do know what ya mean. I’ve done a bit of the trail myself and I know what it is to find a bed for the first time after nights on hard ground. Ain’t much, but I know ya’ll be glad of what it is. We weren’t sure exactly when to expect ya, but I’m glad yer here now. The Reverend’ll be right pleased too, seein’ as Miss Smith – well, Mrs. Hackworth now – left us in the lurch. Can ya believe it? Weeks to go ‘til the summer break and off she runs to get married. Not a word to any of us ‘bout it ‘til it were too late to get a replacement. Well, I never – that’s what I said at the time, well, I never. So we’re mighty glad to have you start the new school year for us, yes, we are.”

  She paused to catch her breath as they exited the chapel and walked directly to the front door of a quaint cottage not feet from the side of the church building. “Is that you, my dear?” a man called from inside. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d run off with the baker,” he chuckled.

  Jane smiled and Laura tsk-tsked, but with a grin. “Yeah, it’s me, ya ol’ flirt. I got the new schoolmistress with me – just arrived by coach and plumb tuckered out, the poor dear.”

  Jane heard shuffling feet and folding papers, then a kindly face appeared in the doorway by lantern light. “Miss Wilder?” asked the Reverend, striding toward her with his hand outstretched. “How lovely it is to see you.”

  She shook his hand and smiled. There was something about the Reverend and his wife that brought a smile to her face – a warmth, a familiarity that made her feel at home. “Thank you for having me, Rev. Langston. I’m so glad to finally be here.”

  “Well, we can catch up more tomorrow. For now, let us show you to your room.” He smiled warmly at her and patted her hand, then went around her and hoisted her trunk with a grunt.

  Laura took Jane’s bag from her. “Ya just relax, dear – I’ll carry this for ya. Follow me.” She headed down a dark hallway, picking up the lantern from a side table as she went to an open door. “This’ll be yer room - it’s cozy. There are extra blankets in the closet if ya need ‘em, though it don’t get too cold this time of year. Just wait ‘til winter, though – ya’ll be pilin’ the covers up so high only yer nose’ll be showin’.” She chuckled at her own joke. “But I’m sure ya used to that, seeing as how ya from Missoula.” She handed Jane her bag as the Reverend set her trunk down in a corner. “Ya can keep the lantern, and there’s a wash bowl at the end of the bed. Let me know if ya need anythin’ else and make yerself at home now.”

  As the Langstons closed the door behind them, Jane set her bag on the bed. She sighed and ran her hand over her hair, closing her eyes to soak in the sounds of civilization around her. She was finally here. Bozeman seemed to be a warm, welcoming town. For the first time in months, she felt as though everything might work out. Rev. Langston and his wife seemed genuinely happy to see her, and it sounded as if the job was still hers. Maybe it would all fall into place. Maybe this would finally be her home.

  If nothing else, at least she now knew four people in town – Dr. Underhill, the Langstons and Genevieve. She couldn’t wait to see Genevieve. She’d have to write her tomorrow to let her know she’d arrived.

  ***

  As promised, the Langstons got Jane settled into her rooms at the schoolhouse in time to begin the new term. The following Saturday, they invited her over for coffee.

  Laura took the pot from the stove top and carried it to the table where Jane sat with the Reverend, whose nose was buried in a book. Laura poured the hot beverage into cups for the three of them, then perched across from Jane, looking at her expectantly. “So, dear, how was your first week of school?”

  “It went well, I think. The children were a little unsettled at first, but they seemed to warm to me by the end of the week. I must say, I’m certainly enjoying the friendly welcome from everyone. You’ve all been so lovely, I’m feeling very much at home already. The town is so picturesque and the mountains are breathtaking. It almost seems as if they reach up to Heaven itself.” Jane took a sip of coffee, then reached for the thick slice of tea cake that teetered precariously on her small plate.

  “Oh yes, I remember when I first arrived, thinkin’ the area quite fine. But ya get used to it, just like anything else. I suppose I really oughta ‘preciate it more’n I do. Sometimes it takes a new set of eyes to help a person see what’s right in front of ‘em.” Laura turned to face her husband, frustration flickered across her cheery features. She deftly poked him in the ribs with an elbow.

  He jumped in his seat and closed the book with a snap, cleared his throat and glanced back and forth between the two women in confusion. “Well, well now. That’s wonderful. Ahem … what were you saying?”

  His wife smiled at him sweetly. “We were just sayin’ how lovely Bozeman is. And Miss Wilder was tellin’ us ‘bout her first week at the school.”

  “Oh yes, do tell.” He picked up his steaming coffee cup and blew gently on it.

  Jane caught them up on all the goings-on from the week past. When she was finished, she bid them goodbye and donned her bonnet. It was the first day since school started that she had some time to herself, and she had errands to run. She stopped at the haberdashery to pick up a bolt of fabric, planning to re-cover the worn settee someone had kindly donated for her rooms at the schoolhouse. She also needed warmer clothes for the coming winter and wanted to get started sewing them.

  She was about to walk into the mercantile, her package under her arm, when she spotted a wagon trundling down the street. At first glance she thought it must be a rancher and his wife. The woman’s round belly protruded beneath a lace-trimmed bodice and full skirt. Her long brown hair was swept up into a chignon beneath a wide-brimmed hat. Her eyes landed on Jane, and her face lit up.

  Jane wondered who the stranger was – then her eyes widened in surprise. Genevieve! She dropped her basket and packages on the boardwalk and ran to greet her cousin.

  The wagon pulled to a halt in the center of the street and Jane jumped up and down with glee beside it. “You’re here, you’re here! I see you got my letter. I was hoping you’d come today, since I’ve been busy all week. Today was the first day I could do as I pleased and I’m so glad you’re here!”

  The man driving the wagon leaped down and hurried around to offer Genevieve his hand. He tipped his hat in greeting and his eyes sparkled as he spoke. “Mornin’ to ya, Miss.”

  “Good morning,” replied Jane, her heart racing. He really was handsome - but he didn’t look like the man Genevieve had described as her husband Thomas. He must be one of the other cowboys she’d heard about in Genevieve’s letters. She switched her attention to Genevieve, who stepped down from the wagon with one hand on her swollen belly.

  Genevieve embraced Jane. “It’s so good to see you, dear cousin. It’s been such a long time. I honestly th
ought I’d never see you again.”

  “And you, darling Genny. I can hardly believe I’m here myself. It seems like a dream. I never imagined I’d live close by family again and it brings me such joy to know you’re no more than half a day’s ride from me.” Jane lifted a hand to straighten her bonnet and the two women walked arm-in-arm to the boardwalk as the cowboy returned to the wagon and steered it to the side of the road.

  “I see your pregnancy is going well,” exclaimed Jane. “You’re so pink-cheeked and healthy! How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine, thank you. I have to admit I hoped I’d get pregnant sooner, but these things happen in God’s timing, don’t they? We’re both looking forward to meeting the little one. Thomas is almost giddy, if you can believe it. I’ve never seen a man so anxious to see a baby.” Genevieve laughed, then faced Jane, taking hold of her hands. “What about you – how have you been? Are you settling in?”

  “I’m well now. I’m just relieved to be here. And Bozeman already feels like home to me. My rooms behind the schoolhouse are sweet and cozy, and I certainly have everything I could possibly need. The children are well mannered and I believe we’ll have a lot of fun together over the coming year.”

  Just then the cowboy joined them, having finished watering the horses from the communal trough on the street and attaching their feedbags. He removed his hat and stood with it clasped in his hands. His brown hair, mussed by the hat, was full and wavy, his skin tanned, and strong arms and a wide chest filled out a checkered green and white shirt. He smiled at Jane.

  Genevieve released Jane’s hands. “I’d like you to meet Dusty Lewis. He works at Paradise Ranch and is a dear friend. He offered to drive me to town today to see you, since he has to purchase supplies for a cottage he’s building on the ranch. It really is the most beautiful little place – you’ll have to see it for yourself when you come to visit.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Miss Wilder.” He reached out a work-hardened hand.

  Jane shook it, and it was as if a spark passed between them. It almost made her cry out. Her hand trembled as she pulled it away. “And you, Mr. Lewis. I’m very much looking forward to visiting the ranch. From Genny’s description, it sounds wonderful.” Was he married? She couldn’t remember if Genevieve had mentioned it in her letters. She’d have to ask when they had a moment to themselves. She blushed and wiped her damp hands against her skirts.

  “It’s a fine place,” said Dusty. “Well, I’d best be off to the hardware store. I need nails and a few other things. Should I come to get ya in a while?” he asked Genevieve.

  “I suppose I can’t stay long,” she sighed. “We do have a long journey home and I want to make it back before dark. Thomas will be so worried if we’re late. He didn’t want me to come in the first place in my condition. So perhaps in an hour?”

  “I’ll pick you up at the schoolhouse then.” Dusty pressed his brown Stetson back onto his head and tipped it to the ladies.

  “That sounds fine,” responded Genevieve.

  Jane nodded farewell then linked her arm through Genevieve’s again. “Do you mind if we stop by the mercantile?” she asked. “I want to pick up a few things to get me through the week. Then I’ll show you my new home.” She squeezed Genevieve’s hand. “Oh, I’m glad to see you. I was so unhappy in Missoula. Mr. Figway made my life miserable and I had no friends to speak of once they found out about … well, never mind that. I’m here now and I couldn’t be happier.”

  Genevieve kissed her on the cheek and patted her arm lovingly. “Well, you’ve left all that behind you. Time for a fresh start and new friends.”

  As they walked to the mercantile, Jane couldn’t help thinking how grateful she was. This was her chance to start over. She just hoped things would work out better than they had in Missoula.

  She thought again about Dusty and wondered if she’d have a chance to get to know him better. Not that it could be anything more than a friendship between them, she knew that. Anytime she got close to anyone, there was always the chance they’d discover her secret. She couldn’t face that again. This time, she’d just keep to herself, live a quiet life, and hope and pray things would stay that way.

  She could see herself living in Bozeman for a long time, perhaps forever. She wasn’t going to risk losing that chance for a man. She’d done that in Missoula and had her heart broken when her fiancé left her at the altar. No, she’d forget all about Dusty Lewis and his sparkling eyes and heart-thumping smile. She needed to keep her focus on building a life here in Bozeman, a life she could enjoy for many years.

  And that meant staying out of trouble, and out of love.

  Chapter Five

  As Dusty strode toward the hardware store, his thoughts weren’t focused on the nails he needed. All he could think about was the delicate woman he’d just encountered. He’d been so busy that morning thinking of supplies and packing for the journey to town, he hadn’t stopped to consider who Genevieve was traveling to meet. He’d known it was her cousin Jane Wilder, and other than that hadn’t given it any more thought.

  But when he saw her by the wagon, he’d broken into a cold sweat and his heart had danced as though it would jump right out of his chest. He’d never met anyone like her before. She was pretty, true, but there was something more that drew him to her.

  He frowned and shook his head. What did it matter to him if she was pretty? She was likely snooty beyond repair, being from a big city like Boston. And from the way she talked, he could tell she was from money. She’d barely said a word to him and had looked at him only briefly before turning up her nose. He was better off putting her out of his mind. But as he strolled into the hardware store and selected the supplies he needed to finish the cottage; all he could think about was Jane and how he might see her again.

  He hurried back to the wagon to load his purchases. The horses hadn’t gotten much rest for the return trip, but they’d have to make do today. He didn’t usually like to drive a team from Paradise Ranch to Bozeman and back again in one day, but Thomas, worrying about Genevieve, had insisted they return. It was clear he felt unsettled with her so far away, though the way Dusty saw it, an entire day spent in a jolting wagon couldn’t be good for her either. But no one had asked for his opinion.

  He climbed onto the wagon seat and clicked his tongue to the horses, who trotted forward obediently. It wasn’t far to the schoolhouse, and the sight of it sent his heart beating wildly once more. Why was he so anxious at the thought of seeing her again? He’d never felt this heart-palpitating, nausea-inducing fever at the thought of a woman before.

  He shook his head with a wry smile. It was something new – he’d always been so confident, so matter-of-fact with women in the past. Maybe it’d been too long since he’d courted — he’d had the confidence shaken clean out of him.

  He lifted the reins and pulled the wagon to a gentle halt outside the quaint whitewashed schoolhouse. Tying the horses to a post, he strode to the back door and knocked on the sturdy timber. The sound of women’s voices chattering excitedly met his ears, and his discomfort increased by the second. He mopped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and shuffled from one booted foot to the other, the rowels of his spurs clacking against the top step.

  Quick footsteps hurried to the door and it flew open. Jane stood there. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone, as she greeted him with a shy smile. “Dusty, here you are. Won’t you please come in?” She stepped aside and motioned for him to enter.

  He slipped his hat from his head and twisted it between his hands as he stepped inside. The room was sparsely decorated, needed a coat of paint, and he could see gaps between some of the boards, but it was cheerful; brightly lit and sparkling clean. “Good to see ya too, Miss Wilder,” he said with a nod.

  Genevieve waved from the corner. “Come over here and sit with me, Dusty.”

  He hurried to join her. She was seated on one of a set of old mismatched chairs placed comfortably around a small split-timber table,
sipping coffee. The table was covered with a cotton cloth and set with a chipped vase of fresh-cut wildflowers and a plate of tiny cakes.

  Jane’s cheeks flushed red. “Please, Mr. Lewis, won’t you sit down? I’ll fix you some coffee and you can have currant cake while you wait. It’s my first attempt at baking, so I hope it’s tasty.”

  Dusty dipped his head, set his hat on the table and sat. He took a cake from the plate and bit into it, but it was hard and dry. He chomped down harder still, and a small piece broke free and caught in his throat. His eyes widened and he coughed loudly, then placed the rest of the cake on the table as he blinked watering eyes. “Thank ya … delicious.”

  Mercifully, Jane was busy at the stove, refilling the coffee pot and stoking the fire. He glanced at Genevieve, who was laughing silently into her handkerchief, her shoulders shaking. With raised eyebrows, he pointed at the stone-like cake. “I’m afraid I’m gonna chip a tooth,” he whispered.

  She laughed all the harder, until her eyes filled with tears. Finally she drew a deep breath to compose herself. “Tell me, Jane, where did you find the recipe for these currant cakes?”

  Jane hurried to join them and sat down, selecting a cake from the plate for herself. “Well, I didn’t have a recipe as such.” She took a sip of coffee. “I just tried to remember what Mother used to do.” She smiled, then attempted to nibble a dainty piece from one side.

  Dusty watched carefully, feeling a bubble of laughter well up inside. He tried to think of something else, something serious to fight the urge. It wouldn’t do to laugh at Jane’s cooking, lest it offend her delicate sensibilities. Women like her expected “company manners” from folks. He’d have to remember his manners and pretend nothing was amiss. He cleared his throat.

  Jane continued to nibble the cake, then finally tried a big bite. Her eyes went wide. She pulled a handkerchief from her skirt pocket, spat the cake into it, then collapsed in a coughing fit. When she’d found her breath again, she exclaimed, “Heaven’s above, that’s not a cake, it’s a rock! I’ve never tasted anything so horrible. I’m sorry for making you eat this – please don’t eat any more. I never learned how to bake – Mrs. Wishart did all the baking in Missoula. And before that it was Mother …”