Oh, he was cruel, tempting her with the deepest, most selfish desires of her heart. She tried to pull away, tears on the brink now, but he didn’t let go.
“I had a thought last night,” he said. “It might be a crazy idea, but knowing the way you love Luke, maybe you’d consider it. Stay here. Help him adjust. There’s no reason you have to leave.”
She gasped, hand to her mouth. Stay? Be with Luke? It was horribly tempting, but that would mean the end of Gabe and Felicity’s dream. “I—I can’t.”
“Luke will need someone he trusts, someone who loves him.”
She ducked her face, torn by conflicting emotions. “It wouldn’t be proper for me to stay in your house,” she protested weakly.
He barked a short laugh. “That might be a problem in New York, but out here, we do what we have to. You’ve seen my staff. You wouldn’t be alone.”
True, but it was still improper. “I shouldn’t.”
“I’ll hire you, then. You can be his teacher, tutor, governess, nanny, whatever you want to call it.”
At a glance, it seemed like that might be the best solution to a terrible situation. If Luke had to come to Brunley and stay with a man like Gillard, he’d need someone he trusted to look out for him and protect him. Maybe her involvement would even help Gabe and Felicity accept their loss.
He waited with his hat in his hand. “You don’t need to give me an answer now. Think about it overnight, and let me know tomorrow when we tour the park. I’ll pick you up at eight in the morning.” He didn’t ask if she wanted to tour the park with him, but she was too overwrought to argue.
“Tomorrow.” She had the rest of the day to figure out what she was going to do.
Hendrick saw Mariah with him. Gillard watched her poke her head into the tribal council building and then joined her the moment she headed back this way. She was clearly agitated, but that man would not let her go. He hounded her and even blocked her path. Any decent man would know when to quit, but then, Gillard wasn’t decent, was he?
Hendrick’s stomach churned as he strode out the filling station door. With the Indians’ help, he’d gotten the pump mounted on the old fire engine, and they’d taken it to the creek to test it. He should be following, but he couldn’t let Mariah fall victim to that snake.
He saw Gillard glance briefly in his direction before touching a finger to her chin. Then Mariah stopped trying to get away. Her hands pressed to her cheeks as her mouth dropped open. Gillard must have promised her the moon, but his promises were fool’s gold. Why couldn’t she see he was deceiving her?
“Think about it overnight, and let me know tomorrow…”
Hendrick froze. The only time a man was willing to let a woman think over a proposition was when that proposition was for marriage. No! The revulsion tore through him with the force of a tornado. She couldn’t marry Gillard.
“Tomorrow,” she said, giving that snake such a vulnerable smile that it cracked Hendrick’s heart in two.
He had to prevent this, not just because he loved her but for her own sake. A life with Gillard would break her spirit. That man didn’t want a lively filly; he wanted a broken mare. He’d tether Mariah to that ranch until she went mad. She’d be little more than a servant. A person only had to look at how a man treated the less fortunate to know his true character. Gillard didn’t even call his housekeeper by name. His staff cowered before him. If Mariah married him, soon she would, too.
Fists clenched, Hendrick hurried toward her. Gillard flashed him a confident grin and sauntered to his car. She hadn’t said yes, had she? Hendrick hadn’t heard it, but then he couldn’t see her face.
He quickly closed the gap. “Mariah. I’m sorry for earlier.”
She shot him an indecipherable look before hurrying toward the hotel.
“Mariah, wait.”
She walked faster.
He matched her stride. “There’s something you need to know about Frank Gillard. He’s not what he claims to be.”
“What do you mean?”
He caught his breath. She was going to listen. “He got his ranch by bilking the Indians out of their land.”
Her hopeful look disappeared, and she wiped a tear from beneath her eye. “That won’t help. It’s not enough.”
“But don’t you want to know who he really is?”
“I know who he is. He’s Luke’s father.” She gripped his shirt, her voice low and desperate. “Hearsay won’t help. I need something more, something that would disqualify him for claiming Luke.”
“That wouldn’t? It’s a crime, isn’t it?”
She dropped her hands. “If it was, he’d already be charged, wouldn’t he?”
He grasped at straws. “Wouldn’t character references count for anything? Can’t you use that to deny placement?”
She shook her head, eyes hollow with despair. “I have no real power to keep Luke away. Gillard has all the rights. He c-can take him anytime.” Her voice broke, and she ran into the hotel.
Hendrick crushed his cap in his hands. He had to help, but how?
The hotel room was deathly quiet, but Mariah’s heart still pounded as loud as a sledgehammer against stone. Everyone was pulling her every which way. Gillard wanted one thing, and Hendrick wanted another. Gabe and Felicity loved Luke. Did Gillard? According to the law, it didn’t matter. Gillard was Luke’s father. He had the birth certificate. Luke must come west.
Her head ached.
She went to the washroom and splashed water on her face to cleanse the dust from her skin. If only she could wash away the layers of deception so easily. What should she do?
She patted her face dry and looked in the mirror. A little redness puffed her eyes, but not enough to notice.
“Should I?” She sighed, thinking of Frank’s idea.
Working with Luke would help him as well as Gabe and Felicity, but she’d be bringing both Luke and herself into a situation that just felt wrong. They didn’t belong here. For all Gillard’s wealth and fine manners, something wasn’t right about the man.
“What should I do, Lord?”
The best place to find answers, in her experience, was the Bible. She pulled out her worn copy and leafed through the annotated and dog-eared pages.
Normally, Mariah read from her Bible every day, but on this trip she’d fallen out of the habit. Perhaps if she’d been reading faithfully and lifting her concerns to God each day, she would have heard His direction clearly, instead of wallowing in this muddled confusion.
A passage in Matthew caught her eye. You will know them by their fruits. She’d always understood that passage to mean that people’s actions spoke louder than their words, that the works of their hands meant more than idle promises. Christians bore fruit or were cut from the vine. But how did that verse apply to this situation? What fruits? And whose?
She shut her eyes and lifted her confusion to God in prayer. “Please tell me what to do, Lord,” she whispered, knowing she must give the situation over to Him, yet afraid of His answer.
Mrs. Pollard turned out to be a romantic. When Anna insisted that a picnic supper was the ideal way to capture Mariah’s heart, Mrs. Pollard supplied a small folding table and chairs as well as a white tablecloth, china and silverware. Two dollars bought a full chicken dinner, packed into a basket so Hendrick could drive to the perfect location, which she also supplied.
“She said that it’s next to a pretty stream,” Anna relayed, “not far from the road about five miles that way.” She pointed toward the mountains.
Hendrick was skeptical. The nearby creek was low, certainly not a full-fledged stream, and the blazing sun would make a picnic torturous.
“Even if it is nice,” he said, “how do I get her to go?”
“Simple. We’ll all go together, and then after we eat, I’ll make some excuse to go off somewhere while you and Mariah talk.” She shoved a book into his hands. “I suggest you read poetry to her.”
“Aloud?”
“She’s not going t
o hear you if you read to yourself, is she? Of course, aloud.”
If only he could impress her with something more comfortable, like fixing her car or driving her somewhere, but apparently women found none of that the slightest bit romantic.
“All right,” he grudgingly agreed. If humiliating himself would save her from Gillard, he’d do it.
Mariah tried to beg off with a headache, but she was hungry. When Anna insisted that food would help clear her head and Mariah smelled the fried chicken, she accepted. They’d all be together, after all.
Hendrick solemnly took off his cap when she approached and clutched it to his chest. “I’m sorry. I was wrong.”
His boyish abashed smile melted her heart. “Me, too. Friends?” She stuck out a hand.
He hesitated but shook it.
With that out of the way, he helped her into the Overland. The whole thing was awkward, from the way he hovered over her to his apologies for slamming the door too hard. Then, before starting the car, mortification colored his face. “I should have asked if you wanted to drive.”
She could have echoed Anna’s groans, but settled for a polite response. “I don’t know where we’re going.”
His oversolicitous awkwardness crumbled into a shy smile. “Mrs. Pollard says it’s pretty there.”
“Mrs. Pollard, eh? I imagine she knows the area inside and out.” She settled back in the seat. “Where are we going, or is it a surprise?”
Anna bounced in the backseat. “Joshua says it’s where all the Indian guys take their gals.”
“Joshua?” Mariah turned to Anna. “You have a guy?”
Anna blushed. “He’s just a friend.”
“Joshua Talltree,” Hendrick explained. “From the filling station. Good man.” Though he shot his sister a warning glance.
Mariah smiled to herself. Hendrick couldn’t help being the protective older brother. She supposed it was natural, since he’d practically raised Anna. The eight-year age difference meant she was just seven when their father died. At fifteen, he’d taken charge of the business and the family.
Hendrick drove the car out of town toward the mountains. A thrill ran through Mariah at the sight of the tall peaks. A few still had traces of snow near the top. They couldn’t possibly be going into the mountains. Gillard said no roads ran west through the park. The nearest way to get across the Continental Divide was to take the Great Northern Railway over Marias Pass.
Before long, the dry hills grew steeper. After a particularly long ascent, they descended into a fertile valley shaded by trees. Mariah breathed in the cooler air, relishing the relief from the heat.
“It must be near here.” Hendrick slowed the car, and everyone hunted for the famed picnic spot.
Undergrowth made picnicking impossible almost everywhere. When Anna pointed out a passable location, Hendrick vetoed it.
“That can’t be it,” he said.
“What if it was?” she countered.
Mariah laughed at their sibling rivalry. “We’ll be in Canada before long.”
“Not heading in this direction,” he groused.
“There it is.” Anna pointed to their right, where a lazy river wound past, its surface dappled by sunlight.
Mariah drew in her breath. Compared to the hot town and prairie, this was blissful, serene and almost like…
“It looks like Pearlman,” she said.
“No, it doesn’t,” Anna contradicted at once.
But Hendrick said nothing. His experienced eyes must have seen what she did, a river so similar to Pearlman’s that it felt like home.
He pulled off the road and stopped the car. Anna immediately flung open her door and hopped out.
“It’s beautiful,” Mariah breathed.
Anna ran to the water where she yanked off her shoes and stockings and dipped her feet. “Yikes, it’s freezing.” But she didn’t get out of the water.
“Youngsters.” Hendrick sighed, sounding so much more mature than his years. Though a few years younger than Mariah was, Hendrick was so worldly-wise that he seemed older.
She closed her eyes and listened to the birds chirp and the wind rustle the leaves. After all the frustration and confusion, she needed this peace, this sense that God had created the trees around her, that He could be felt in every leaf and blade of grass and drop of water.
“I could stay here forever.” She sighed as she heard her door latch click and felt the breeze against her arm. Hendrick must have swung open the door.
“No hurry,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll set up the table.”
She shook her head and opened her eyes. The peaceful moment had passed.
“May I?” He extended his hand to help her from the car.
Though he was trying too hard, she gave him her hand. It looked so small and white against his.
“I scrubbed as hard as I could,” he apologized.
Only then did she notice the stains of his profession. From her own tinkering, she knew that engine grease was impossible to wash off completely. Truly, that didn’t matter. She smiled, and he looked at her so hopefully that her heart broke. How he must care for her. Yet he did not push for her to feel the same way. Unconditional, yet impossible.
“Thank you.” She hazarded a glance at his eyes, warm and soft in the sunlight. It was a fatal mistake, for she saw in them the love he’d harbored for her these past two years. As far as he knew, that love was unrequited. It had to stay that way.
She withdrew her hand. “I think I’ll soak my feet, too.” Without waiting for a response, she headed for the river.
The excuse was easy. Seeing his hopes dashed wasn’t. She wanted to say she was sorry. She wanted to rest in his strong arms and create that future he so desired, but it couldn’t be.
Here, by this peaceful river, she knew what she must do. Luke’s needs mattered most. She must stay.
Hendrick caught Mariah smiling at him so often that he was sure she’d forgiven him for that jealous outburst. Now that the heat of anger had died, he recognized his reaction for what it was. Gillard was trying to win Mariah’s heart, a heart Hendrick desperately wanted. But it wasn’t Hendrick’s to claim. Mariah could bestow it on whomever she chose, even Gillard.
She didn’t tell him if she planned to accept the man’s proposal, and he didn’t bring it up. Better to enjoy one last meal together. So he sat across the folding table from her and memorized every curve of her face, the way the light danced off her curls, the strength of her jaw and the brightness of her light hazel eyes.
“Mrs. Pollard is a good cook,” Mariah said after they’d finished the berry pie and sat drinking coffee from real china cups. They didn’t match exactly and the rims were chipped, but it was better than a tin cup or straight out of the vacuum bottle.
Anna excused herself and returned to the river.
Hendrick watched her wade into the water. “Not too far,” he cautioned. This was probably her way of leaving him and Mariah alone, which didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.
Mariah glanced at Anna. “Oh, she’s fine. The stream’s no more than knee-deep.”
That wasn’t the problem, but he couldn’t very well tell Mariah that he was nervous being alone with her. Too many times over the past two years he’d dreamt of this moment. He always wondered if he’d have another chance, but he didn’t expect it to be a last chance. If he didn’t win her today, he’d truly lose her.
The moment had arrived, and he had no idea what to do. What would capture her heart? A brilliant thought? Wit? Humor? He wasn’t good at any of those.
He lifted the vacuum bottle and swished the remaining liquid. Perhaps one cup remained. “Want some more coffee?” What a stupid thing to say.
Still, she smiled at him. “Oh, no, I couldn’t eat or drink another thing.” Her eyes softened, and she placed her hand lightly on his. “Thank you, Hendrick. This must have cost a lot. I’ll pay you back.”
Though her hand sent a hum of electricity throu
gh him, her words snapped it off. Why did it always come back to money? Yes, compared to her, he was poor, but that didn’t make him any less of a man. He’d made his own way in this world, and he could pay for a picnic dinner if he wanted to.
“That’s not necessary. Judge Weiss paid for my work on the fire pump.” He omitted that it was fifty dollars. To her, that would be nothing.
Her eyes widened. “You’ve been working on a fire pump?”
He’d told her that earlier, but she hadn’t been listening. Still, she looked interested now.
“All they had was an old hand-pumper,” he explained, relieved to talk about something familiar and impersonal. “It wouldn’t put out a grass fire. Joshua Talltree and some of his pals have been helping me motorize it.” He shrugged. “I just wanted to keep busy.”
Her smile could melt the hardest heart. “Oh, Hendrick, that’s so thoughtful.”
“It needed to be done.” He stared into his cup of coffee, not sure what to say next.
She didn’t speak, either.
He glanced at the river. Anna had wandered downstream a little, but she was still within sight—and earshot. Probably waiting for him to embarrass himself reading poetry. The little book weighed down his trouser pocket. He supposed he’d have to take a stab at it, if only to please Anna.
He slipped the slim volume from his pocket. “I, uh, thought I’d read a little from this book.” He didn’t dare look up. No doubt she was laughing.
“That would be wonderful.” She didn’t sound like she was laughing. In fact, she sounded delighted.
His eyes met hers, and for an instant he forgot what he intended to do. The sun brought out the green in the hazel, making her eyes sparkle like drops of morning dew.
“Who is the author?” she asked softly, waking him from his reverie.
He glanced at the spine. “Oh, uh, Tennyson.”
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