by Jodi Thomas
Williams, the trail boss, rode close to say his goodbyes. The men were already turning the herd toward a large pasture farther north. Williams told her simply that Josh had bought the house the first winter he arrived, even though it was several miles from his mine.
Impatience struck Bethanie, and she kicked Twilight into a gallop. She’d waited all these weeks to see Josh. Though she’d told herself over and over she was making the trip to bring news of Ben’s death, she now knew she had to see Josh again. She had to know if her constant memory of him was merely an innocent girl’s dreams. She’d hidden away her ache for him in the darkest corner of her soul, but still the ache was there, as alive and real as it was the day he left. Though she’d been Ben’s wife in every way, there was a tiny part of her that cried out for the wild, undefined love she’d shared briefly with Josh…a part she’d denied long enough.
She jumped from her horse and ran into the house without knocking. She was several feet into the hall before the sight that greeted her sent sudden shivers up her spine. Trash and broken furniture lay everywhere. Discarded whiskey bottles were scattered across the floor, making it resemble an alley behind a saloon more than a home. The large rooms were bare of any life or warmth.
Bethanie stumbled backward in horror. Dirt and spiderwebs blanketed all but the latest deposits of bottles. The thought that Josh might live in such a wallow sickened her to the core.
“Whata ya want?” A shrill yell came from behind Bethanie.
Bethanie turned to see a fat woman with filthy gray hair hanging in long willow strands from a wrinkled face.
The crow-sharp voice sounded again. “I said, whata you want, dearie?”
Bethanie swallowed hard and tried to make her voice sound calm. “I’m looking for Josh Weston.”
“Well, you can look all you like, but you ain’t gonna find him here.”
Bethanie couldn’t keep the hope from her voice. “This isn’t his house?”
“Sure this is his house, but he stays up at the mine. Don’t come down but once in a while to sleep off a drunk. I’m the housekeeper, since some men broke in here a year ago and busted up the place. He wouldn’t be too happy to know there’s more strangers here, so suppose’n you tell me what you want and be on your way.”
Bethanie could smell the whiskey on the housekeeper’s breath, but she stood her ground. It would be dark in less than an hour, and she had no intention of sleeping outside. She stepped around the old woman and took the first two stairs. “Are there bedrooms upstairs?”
“Maybe there is, but this ain’t no hotel, miss. I ain’t got the place cleaned up from the last bunch of strangers who came in here drinking and fighting. So why don’t you just be on your way before I…”
“Mrs. Weston.” Cain sounded from the porch. “Mrs. Weston, are you all right?”
Shocked twisted the old woman’s face into a thousand wrinkles. “Mrs. Weston,” she whispered.
“Yes;” Bethanie answered, her low voice bearing a ring of steel. “I’m Bethanie Weston, and I’d like to see if there is a room clean enough to sleep in.” She moved up the steps. “Tomorrow we’ll begin cleaning this place.”
The old housekeeper wiped her hands on a filthy apron. A touch of worry blended through her bloodshot eyes. “Your room is at the top, Mrs. Weston. It’s been closed off ever since I’ve been here, but Mr. Weston told me to sweep it out every once in a while.”
Bethanie opened the door the woman indicated, fully expecting to see more trash. To her surprise the room was orderly, but dusty. All the furniture was draped with sheets, as if waiting to be unveiled. As she pulled the covers, she was delighted to find finely carved, delicate furnishings.
The housekeeper let out a long breath as Bethanie smiled. “I knew Mr. Weston was married, even if he never talked about it to no one in these parts. There ain’t a man in the territory who would buy the things in this room unless he had a woman in mind. Besides, I see you wear the same kind of band he does on your finger.”
Bethanie realized the woman’s mistake. She thought Bethanie to be Josh’s wife. She twisted the ring that had once been her grandmother’s. If she told the woman of her mistake, there was a chance Josh would get the news of Ben’s death before she could tell him. Also, she might get more work out of the old drunk if she believed Bethanie to be the wife and not just the widowed sister-in-law. Bethanie bit her lip and decided saying nothing was not really a lie. After all, she was Mrs. Weston, and she did own half of the mine. Cain eased the silence by bringing Mariah and the bags.
Though Bethanie was tired, she and Cain worked until midnight cleaning the bedrooms and hall. They scrubbed a room clean for Mariah and put her to bed before starting on Bethanie’s room. The housekeeper kept disappearing, but Cain did the work of three people. Before they said good night he had hauled all the broken furniture that had lined the entry and halls outside to burn. As he walked toward the barn, Bethanie wondered at his unyielding devotion. It was as though he couldn’t sleep without first seeing that she and Mariah were comfortable.
Bethanie bathed and crawled into her bed, smiling contentedly at the warm room around her. The fine oak furniture reflected the glow of the fireplace in golden tones of warmth. Whatever Josh’s reasons were for buying this house and these furnishings she could only wonder, but the room made her feel at home. She dared to hope he would welcome her and not still resent her. She fell asleep feeling Josh was near for the first time in three years.
In the darkness of the house before dawn, Bethanie’s nightmares returned. In her dream, the room was cold and barren. She heard shouts from outside. Suddenly her mother was yelling, “Run, Bethanie, run!” She climbed down from the bed. She was running for the woods behind her house, running until her lungs were on fire. She heard her mother scream behind her. Then she was falling, falling into blackness.
A cry of horror escaped her lips and woke her to reality. Bethanie sat up in the cold room and felt sweat bead across her body. Though it was only a dream, to her emotions it always seemed real. The dream never ended. She always woke at the same point.
She lit a candle and filled the room with shadows. Tears stained her eyes and she wished Ben were close. His presence had kept the dream at bay for so long; Bethanie had almost forgotten the hollow fear that echoed each pounding of her heart, each shallow breath. She rose slowly and dressed. There would be no more sleep for her tonight.
She pulled the blankets from the bed and noticed two chairs turned with their backs together by the window. They’d been against the wall when she first looked at the room, and she hadn’t thought of moving them. As she draped the bedcovers over the chairs and opened the window, she couldn’t help but wonder if Cain had done the rearranging. To her knowledge, he’d never been inside the ranch house, much less her bedroom back in Texas. Someone must have told him of her habit of airing all the covers every morning. A habit passed down from her Shaker mother. His thoughtfulness never ceased to amaze her.
As if her thought of Cain drew him to her, a light knock sounded at her door. Bethanie pushed the bolt back and opened it without hesitation. She knew it would be Cain. The housekeeper was probably sleeping off her drunkenness. No one else could have passed Cain to get to her door.
As always, he seemed nervous talking with her. “Mrs. Weston, I saw you open the window and knew you were up.” He stepped back a few feet into the hallway. “The housekeeper left during the night. From the large bags she had, I’d say she took a bonus.”
Bethanie shrugged and started down the hall. “I don’t think we’ve lost much of a helper. I know finding someone to take care of this house must be a problem in this country, but it seems to me the house is better off without her.”
When she turned to see if he agreed, Cain’s face was twisted in agony. “I want to talk to you about that, Mrs. Weston.” He knew she was watching him, and turned the scarred side of his face away from her. “I know my job was just to get you here, but I was thinking…”
Bethanie had to smile. Never in her life had she frightened anyone, yet she seemed to scare this man to within an inch of death. She had the feeling if she yelled “boo” at him, he would bolt like a wild colt. He looked like a rock of a man who’d never taken anything off anyone, yet around her, he was as jumpy as a rabbit in a dog kennel.
“I thought…if you would allow me…I could stay on around here and help out. This place needs lots of fixin’ up and the barn needs a new roof…and the fence out back wouldn’t hold a goat…and I could…”
“O.K., O.K., Cain,” Bethanie laughed. “I would consider myself fortunate if you would agree to stay.”
Cain let out a long-held breath. “Thanks, Mrs. Weston. I made some coffee in the kitchen. The trail boss told me there is a small settlement about five miles north. I thought if I left at daybreak, I could be back with supplies by noon.”
Bethanie agreed and went to survey the cupboards. She saw Cain off, then looked around the house until Mariah awoke. They spent the morning washing hair and clothes. If Josh came home tonight, she would be more presentable.
True to his word, Cain was back by noon with a wagonload of supplies and tools. To Bethanie’s surprise, a middle-aged woman climbed down from the wagon. Her clothes were little more than rags, but they were clean.
Cain pulled off his hat and began mutilating it with nervous fingers as he stood before Bethanie. “I met this woman in town,” he whispered to Bethanie. “She was taking in laundry and not doing too well among these dirt-loving miners. I checked around and found out she was a widow and respectable. I was hoping you could see your way clear to hire her.”
Bethanie got his point even before he said the word “housekeeper.” She nodded first to him, then the woman. How could she tell Cain that she would have hired the woman herself if she’d met her first? The woman’s face had little beauty in middle age, but her eyes reflected an openness of character. Her lips turned up in a smile even though her life couldn’t have been an easy one.
Bethanie knew firsthand what it was like to try to make a living in a mining town. She offered her hand to the woman. “I’m Bethanie Weston, and I’d be delighted to have some help and company out here.”
A bubbly smile covered the woman’s plump face. “I’m Rachel, and I’d be glad to help for as long as you need me. I’ve heard of the Weston Mine, but I didn’t know about a house. Josh Weston is kind of a legend around these parts. Some say he works night and day, never sleeping at all.”
Cain started walking the horses to the barn as Rachel continued. “When your hired hand finished frightening me to death, I decided I didn’t have nothing to lose by coming out to meet you. I’ve been having trouble keeping body and soul together since my husband died last winter.”
Rachel patted Bethanie’s hand. “Mr. Cain told me of your loss only a few months ago.” The older woman heaved her chest as if fighting off sadness with determination. She looked toward Cain and changed the subject without hesitation. “I have the feeling Mr. Cain has a heart of gold to counter that ugly face. He even asked me if there was anything I needed at the store. Imagine a man thinking of a thing like that.”
“I don’t know what I’ll be able to pay you.” Bethanie realized she was probably being rash in replacing Josh’s housekeeper. “But I’m sure it will be fair,” she added. She already liked this woman who was free with her compliments and honest in her judgment of Cain.
By the time they had lunch, Bethanie knew Rachel was going to work out just fine. She doted over Mariah like a grandmother, and the child was delighted.
Everything was falling into place, but Bethanie still hadn’t seen Josh. The uncertainty of his reaction gnawed at her self-confidence. If he didn’t come home tonight, she knew she would have to go to the mine tomorrow.
Chapter Eighteen
Josh Weston waved good-bye to the miners as they climbed into buckboards. They were headed into town for their Saturday night fun. He knew that half, or more, would be out of money when they returned Sunday and wouldn’t even remember where they’d spent their pay. But the men were in high spirits tonight. He only wished that he could feel their wild, carefree abandon. If he were being honest with himself, it had been some time since he’d felt anything.
Josh grabbed a clean towel and headed between the trees that hid the spring. Maybe feeling nothing was better than feeling pain. He smiled bitterly to himself. He hadn’t even gotten drunk in weeks, so he must be getting better.
He stripped off his shirt and squinted watching the sun spread its fool’s gold over the mountains. Trained for alertness, he heard a noise at the camp and laughed to think one of the men must have forgotten something in haste. Josh ducked his head low in the stream and felt the icy water wash away the dust of the mine.
He raised his head as a twig snapped behind him. Slowly, Josh turned around. His face was relaxed, but his hand hung ready at his gun handle. The past years had been peaceful, but he remembered a time when claim jumpers were as pesky as mosquitoes. A woman’s form moved as gracefully as a spring breeze from the shadows of aspens.
Josh watched her slender body come toward him like she had a hundred times before in his fantasies. Her hair was red-gold fire and her eyes the green of new leaves. She was dressed in black, this time, in a riding skirt and boots. “God,” his mind cried. “How could she grow more beautiful with each dream?”
Josh shook the water from his head and widened his stance. “Damn you!” he shouted in pain. “Go away and leave me alone. Must you haunt both my days and my nights?”
He watched her lips part in surprise at his outburst. He could see the hurt his words wrought in her expressive eyes. How could she look so innocent, as if she were unaware of the pain she caused him?
Josh stood and pulled the towel behind his neck. Every cell in his body wanted to run to her, but he had lived this nightmare of her disappearing too many times. “Damn, how I hate you,” he hissed. “And I hate myself even more for wanting you.”
He watched her head jerk to the side as if he had dealt her a blow. He had to face her straight on or go mad. Josh laughed without humor and fought to keep the tears from his eyes. His knuckles whitened from his grip on the towel. He must be cracking up. Maybe he had finally worked himself too hard. Usually he didn’t see her except after several drinks.
He watched her straighten and saw a stamina in her crystal green eyes that he’d never seen before. She was different somehow from the Bethanie he remembered.
“I’m not a dream.” Bethanie moved closer. “Or the nightmare you seem to think, Josh Weston, so stop yelling at me.”
Josh watched her close the distance between them. He studied each line of her face, each curl of her hair. She was here, the same as he’d imagined for three long years. His heart began to thunder in his chest as he realized that his dream was, indeed, a reality. His mouth was dry, with words hung in his throat. He watched her move nearer and knew Bethanie was with him. But she wasn’t the same. Somehow the years had made her stronger and more beautiful. How could she be more lovely than the perfection he left behind? Josh tried to hear what she was saying.
“I bring tragic news.” Her eyes filled with tears and the sight tore into his heart. “I wanted to be the one to tell you.” Her voice was little more than a whisper as she stood only inches away. “Ben was killed almost six weeks ago in an Indian raid at the ranch.”
She was talking, telling him every detail of the day his brother died, but Josh couldn’t get her words to sink in. He could only watch one lone tear roll down her face. He would have moved the very mountain they stood on if he could stop the tear’s course.
Suddenly, the reality of her words registered like a bullet exploding inside his chest. Josh turned away from her, the pain of Ben’s death plowing through his mind. Never in his longing for Bethanie would he have wished Ben harm. Never! Ben was his only kin, the brother he admired and loved.
Her warm hand touched his shoulder. “I know, I know,” she whi
spered. “I loved him, too.”
Josh whirled around and encircled her in his arms. He pulled her to him in a need to hold and be held. She ran her fingers over his wet hair and whispered softly, things mothers whisper to heartbroken children.
Bethanie’s unhealed wound was ripped wide open again, and pain poured out with the same force it had the day Ben died. Held safely in Josh’s strong arms, she was free to allow her pain to flow. They clung to each other for a long moment, sharing their grief.
Josh pulled her closer to him…closer than he’d ever allowed another to come. She felt so wonderful and soft in his arms. A faint scent of honeysuckle seemed to surround her. He buried his face into the silk of her hair. He’d been wrong to think numbness was better than feeling. Even the pain of sorrow was better than the walking death he’d lived these past three years.
Slowly, he moved his hand along her back, proving to himself she was real. She lifted her head from his shoulder, and he tenderly wiped a tear from her cheek. Her eyes closed as he cradled her chin in his palm. His thumb moved across her lips in a tender action that no amount of willpower could have stopped. He remembered the taste of her lips and the way they’d quivered at his anger when she’d told him she was married.
Heavy footsteps crashed suddenly toward them. Bethanie pulled away. Without turning she called out. “Over here, Cain.”
Josh watched a huge middle-aged man emerge from the trees and freeze as if awaiting orders. The left side of his face was a mass of scars and his hair a blend of dark red and white. He was not a man Josh had seen before or would likely forget seeing.
“This is Cain. Mike hired him to get us here. I’ve asked him to stay on.” Bethanie didn’t turn her eyes from Josh as she continued. “Cain, I’d like you to meet Josh Weston, my husband’s brother.”
Cain nodded at Josh, but moved no closer. He reminded Josh of an untamed wilderness creature. He would go near humans, but not so close that he couldn’t jump back before they advanced.