Heartstrings

by Lily Graison

  The conversation was still fresh on his mind. His brother had understood his predicament and had agreed to let Grace know that although her help was appreciated, they didn’t need her around as much now. The knowledge was going to hurt her. He knew it would, which is what led him to the saloon in the first place.

  He was halfway across town when he saw Evan Reid walking down the sidewalk, heading back to his office, if he had to guess. He needed to have a conversation with him as well and found a clear spot to pull the wagon into.

  The crowd on the sidewalk blocked his way and by the time he reached Evan’s office, the sign on the door read closed. “Damn it.” He sighed and raised his hand, knocking anyway. If he had to, he’d go around back to his private residence. Either way, he was going to settle this once and for all.

  Surprisingly, Evan opened the door after one knock.

  “Rafe.” He smiled in greeting. “I was just about to head out for the day.”

  “I know and I won’t keep you long.” Evan moved away and let him inside. The room was dark, the curtains all pulled closed and the lamps that usually burned were all extinguished. He gave the office a once over before turning to face Evan. “I came to talk to you about Grace.”

  Evan’s deep sigh told him all he needed to know. The town doctor was weary of their predicament too. “I told Grace—”

  “—I know what you told her. A medicine man near Missoula.” He waved his hand as if brushing the idea off. “I’ve not told her no flat out but I will.” He shifted on his feet and gave a sigh himself. “I appreciate all you’ve done, Evan, we both are, but I think its time Grace comes to terms with the fact she’ll never be a mother. It’s going to break her heart. Mine too for failing to give her what she wants so desperately, but I can’t sit back and continue watching her do this. She gets her hopes up and then falls into a depression when it doesn’t happen.”

  Evan crossed to his desk before sitting on the edge of it. “I doubt the medicine man would do much for her. According to those I talked to, he had helped a few women who were in similar situations Grace is but none of them had ever conceived at all. Getting pregnant isn’t Grace’s problem. Carrying to full term is and I don’t think there is a cure for that. I only mentioned the Indian because she’d looked so hopeful that I might have news. It was a cowards way out and I’m sorry I got her hopes up again. My advice would be to just let her know that it's all right. That you love her regardless of children and make sure she believes it.”

  “Easier said than done.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  “I’ve asked Jesse to gently tell her they didn’t need her helping out with the babies as much as she has been. Do you think that’s a mistake?”

  “I hate to say it, but no. I don’t think she’s in the right frame of mind to do it at the moment.”

  “I don’t either.” And she wasn’t. She was too preoccupied with thoughts of babies and it wasn’t healthy. How could it be?

  They talked for a few more minutes, then he said his goodbyes and left, climbed back into the wagon seat and headed home. He wasn’t sure what else he could do to prove to Grace that he loved her but he’d think of something.

  The sun had begun its decent over the mountain by the time he made it home. He left the feed in the wagon and saw to the horses, made sure the other animals were bedded down for the night and headed to the house. He stopped when he reached the steps leading up to the porch. The cradle from the nursery was by the back door.

  Rafe climbed the steps and looked in the kitchen window. Grace was by the stove. He watched her for a few minutes and when she finally turned, the look on her face wasn’t the one he thought she’d be wearing. She looked almost—happy.

  He glanced at the cradle. Her moving this outside either meant she was ready to store it, or something was wrong with it, and she wanted him to fix it. Both options hurt his heart. She was either still determined to live in denial, or she’d finally accepted the unavoidable, and that last choice was undoubtedly going to leave her devastated. Except—she didn’t look devastated.

  Opening the door, he stepped inside and hung his hat. She turned and gave him a smile that for once reached her eyes. “I was beginning to think you were staying in town all evening.”

  “Now, when have I ever, not come home?”

  She laughed. “I can remember one such occasion.”

  He crossed the space separating them and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest before placing a kiss to the side of her neck. “And you were wrong about where I’d been.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You were still out all night. At least you don’t stink of cheap perfume and cigar smoke.”

  Rafe laughed. “I won’t deny being in the saloon but I went no further than the bar.”

  “I’m sure Miss Chloe was disappointed.”

  His arms tightened around her waist. “She was disappointed the day I married you.” He kissed her again. “I haven’t so much as looked at her since.”

  “And you better not.”

  She pulled away and headed back to the stove. He opened his mouth to ask about the cradle but closed it, rubbing his hand over his face. If he brought it up, and it caused her stress, he’d kick his own ass but ignoring it would be even worse. He cleared his throat. “So, what’s with the cradle outside?”

  She stilled for long moments before grabbing the pot on the stove and placing it on the center of the table. “Its time to put it away.” Her voice was soft but when she looked at him, a tiny smile curved her lips. “I’m never going to be a mother.”

  “Grace—”

  “—No, it's all right, Rafe.” Her eyes grew glassy, but she blinked the moisture away away. “I know it's true. You do as well. As hard as it is to accept, I know I have to.”

  He kissed her. “I love you, Grace, babies or not.”

  “I know you do.”

  He kissed her again. Lingered until every cell in his body craved more. “Doesn’t mean we can’t keep trying.”

  For the first time in days, she laughed. “You can’t use everything in life as an excuse to have sex, Rafe Samuels.”

  “Yes, I can.” He lowered one hand and cupped her left breast, brushing his thumb over her nipple when it peeked. “And I will.”

  Grace laughed and tried to swat his hand away. “Don’t start messing. Your supper will get cold.”

  She was smiling as she said it. He ignored her and reached for the buttons that ran along the front of her dress, unbuttoning them one at a time as he looked at her. When he reached the last one and parted the material, the look in her eyes changed, her breaths coming quicker. “Supper can wait,” he said, sliding his hand against her flesh to cup her breast in the palm of his hand. “Right now, the only thing I want is my wife.”

  He kissed her again, plucking at her nipple with his thumb and forefinger while pulling her skirts up with his free hand.

  “Rafe, the food will burn.”

  “Then let it.”

  He had her there in the kitchen, on the table they shared their meals on, the entire thing rocking, wobbling on its old legs until he picked her up and fell to his knees, laying her on the floor and loving her until there was no doubt how much he loved her.

  There was a water stain on the ceiling. Grace stared at it as she tried to catch her breath, a smile on her lips.

  She couldn’t remember the last time Rafe had been so unpredictable. After thirteen years of marriage, routines were set and nothing much changed. Their sex life was still good, but they were only intimate when they’d turned in for the night, after the day had faded away. This—was different.

  She turned her head and looked over at him. If the expression on his face was any indication, he was well sated, his pleased smile all the proof she needed.

  He blinked his eyes opened and sighed long and loud before looking over at her. “That was worth every bruise I’ll have on my knees come tomorrow morning.”

  She laugh
ed. “Well, I would hope so but bruised knees isn’t your only problem. Your supper is probably stone cold by now.”

  Rafe rolled to his side and cupped her exposed breast. “I’ll live. Besides, you taste better than that old pig you cooked up.” His hand lowered and slid between her legs to cup her damp curls. “I’m thinking I may have more for dessert.”

  Grace laughed and smacked his hand away, then sat up. Her hair was coming undone and reached a hand up to straighten it. Rafe was still stretched out on his side, propped up on one elbow, his pants still undone. He never looked away as she fumbled with the pins holding her hair and some unreadable expression covered his face.

  She set the last pin and pulled her skirt down and started buttoning her dress. “Why are you staring at me?”

  “Just thinking how lucky I am.”

  “How so?”

  He sat up, leaned toward her and placed another small kiss to her lips. “I have a beautiful wife and a home I can be proud of—thanks to you. This place was a ramshackle mess before you showed up. You’ve turned it into a proper home and given me a reason to want to be inside of it.” He leaned in and gave her another soft kiss. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Grace, and I love you more than I could ever show you. You’re my whole world and I can’t think of a single thing I want more than to have you here with me. You’re my everything. I don’t want for anything other than you and if that doesn’t make me the luckiest man in all of Montana, I don’t know what else would.”

  Tears burned the back of her eyes, that familiar ache in her throat whenever she cried present as she looked at him. What he was implying with those words was more telling then what he’d actually said. She was all he needed. It wasn’t a house full of babies like she wanted, it was simply her. Guilt made her heart clench. All this time longing for things she knew deep down she’d never have, she’d pulled away from the one thing that had always been there—him.

  The loss of their babies had hurt him as much as they had her, but he was content with what life had given him and she realized she should be too. They had their health, a home that kept them sheltered and warm, and they had each other. Come end of the day, they didn’t need more than that.

  She leaned forward, bracing her forehead against his own. “I love you Rafe Samuels. I know I don’t always show it, but I do.”

  “I know you do, Grace.” He placed a soft kiss to her lips. “I see it in every thing you do for me. If you couldn’t ever say it again, I’d still know.”

  Grace wrapped her arms around his neck while every thing she did have ran through her mind. She was blessed beyond measure and even though they would never be parents to living, thriving children, they had each other and that would have to be enough.

  Chapter 3

  Willow Creek, late December, 1885

  * * *

  Dealing with Edna Pearce on a daily basis was going to be the death of her. Grace smiled around clenched teeth, nodding as Edna told her what was wrong with her plan and made corrections to everything Grace had written down. If Edna knew what she wanted already why hadn’t the stubborn woman told her what to do to begin with?

  Ellie gave her a sympathetic grin as she headed back into the kitchen. For once the stagecoach station was free of travelers. With the road to Missoula nearly impassable with accumulating snow, and looked to be that way for a while, it meant the space would be free for Willow Creek’s first Valentine’s Day dance.

  When Rafe had told her he’d heard Edna talking about it in the mercantile, and was looking for volunteers to help organize everything, the idea had seemed like the perfect excuse to get out of the house. The worst part of winter was being cooped up for weeks at a time and her complaining about it endlessly had eventually pushed Rafe into purchasing a sleigh. He’d disguised it as a Christmas gift but she knew her cabin fever was driving him as insane as it was her. She’d taken the reins and guided her small sleigh into town not an hour after he’d shown it to her and told Edna she’d love to help out.

  If she had only known then what she knew now, she would have occupied her time by knitting lace doilies big enough to cover every piece of furniture she owned instead of telling the woman she’d help out.

  Miranda Talbert, who’d also volunteered with the dance, hid a smile behind her hand as Edna finally straightened and went after Ellie to discuss food for the party. “I’m not sure why she asked for volunteers when its plain she just wants underlings to do her bidding.”

  Grace grinned and stood, folding the paper back up and sticking it in her reticule. “Well, at least now we can’t mess anything else up.” She reached for her cloak and slipped it back on. “Same time next week?”

  Miranda nodded as she put her cloak on as well.

  Grace left the stagecoach station and headed straight for the mercantile. The things Edna wanted would probably be impossible to manage, but she’d do her best to find what she could.

  Commotion from further up the sidewalk drew everyone to a standstill as raised voices filled the air moments before those standing on the sidewalk started to yell and move to either side of the walkway.

  “Stop her!”

  A young girl Grace had never seen before ran straight for her, fear evident in her eyes. She skidded to a stop before slamming into her. She was rail thin, the hollows of her cheeks all she needed to see to know the girl was half starved. The girl looked over her shoulder as another shout went up before giving her one last look and darting between the buildings, running for the clearing behind them.

  Mrs. Jenkins ran into her line of sight and stopped, huffing out deep breaths. “Where did she go?”

  Those on the sidewalk pointed in her direction, telling Mrs. Jenkins where she’d gone. When she started toward her, Grace stepped into her path.

  “She’s long gone, now Mrs. Jenkins. What in the world happened?”

  “That little scamp just stole an entire loaf of bread!”

  “Oh, well that’s terrible.” Grace looked in the direction the girl had run. “I’m sure nearly being caught will keep her from doing it again.”

  Mrs. Jenkins looked down the alleyway between the buildings. “Have you ever seen her before?”

  “I’m not sure I saw her that time.”

  “I don’t know who she is or where she came from, but she’s been inside the store every day this week and I’ve suspected she’s been stealing from me. I only caught her today though.”

  “Well, I doubt she’ll be back.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Mrs. Jenkins bid her a good day and hurried back up the sidewalk. Grace watched her go, then turned to the clearing behind the buildings. The space was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months, and the small garden oasis had hosted more than a few summer parties and even a wedding or two. But, except for the benches that had been added over the years, there wasn’t much there. Grace stepped off the sidewalk, her trip to the mercantile forgotten as she went in search for the girl. As she’d suspected, she was no where to be seen.

  The bushes near the back of the clearing moved. Grace cocked her head to one side, listening for any sound but heard nothing. “Hello? Are you there?”

  She was met with silence and stayed a few more minutes before turning and heading back. Stepping onto the sidewalk, she looked to the clearing again and could have sworn she saw the bushes move. If the girl was there, it was no place for someone to be in the dead of winter and hoped she was just hiding from Mrs. Jenkins.

  Turning away, she headed to the mercantile, her thoughts still on the girl. Who was she? And where had she come from? And more importantly, where was her mother?

  The picnic basket was empty when Grace picked it up from the bench. She smiled and glanced toward the bushes she’d seen moving the day before. Whoever the girl was, she’d taken the food she’d packed and left for her.

  “My name is Grace,” she said. “Are you there?” Not a leaf blew on the bushes. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to help.”
When she got no response, she hooked the basket handle over her arm and blew out a breath. Surely she wasn’t still hiding in the bushes.

  The area behind the mercantile was barren this time of year. The trees were void of leaves and their spindly branches gave little protection from wind, rain or snow. Luckily it had been a mild winter so far. Hopefully the girl wasn’t living out here.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow with more food.” Grace waited for a response but heard nothing. “If you need anything before then, ask someone in town to bring you out to the Samuels place. Tell them Grace said it was all right.”

  It took three more days before Grace caught a glimpse of the girl again. She saw her in town, walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the road. She’d watched her until she slipped between the buildings and was gone.

  The food Grace left every morning was always gone by lunch when she went to retrieve her basket. She’d yet to tell Rafe why she was coming to town daily. He thought she was still busy planning the dance with the other ladies in town. If he knew she was chasing after what she assumed was a homeless girl—

  She bit her lip. She knew what he’d say. It was the same thing she’d been saying to herself since the day she saw the girl. You can’t keep her. But thoughts of a child alone out here gave her too many sleepless nights, and if she could just talk to her, then maybe she could put her mind at ease.

  Grace crossed the street and hurried up the sidewalk to the narrow alleyway she’d seen her run down, then darted between them herself. When she reached the clearing, she smiled. The girl was heading away from the buildings toward willow creek.

  The first time she’d seen her, she’d seemed much smaller than she was. She was still rather short, but she looked much bigger than she had previously. As Grace studied her, she realized the bulk was probably due to clothing. She wore a cloak over top of what looked like a man’s long trail coat. Her skirts were wool and a bulky scarf was around her neck and looked as if the ends were tucked up underneath her bonnet. Thick gloves covered her hands, so she was staying somewhat warm it seemed.