by Amanda Cabot
Shaking her head, Catherine said, “And I thought the most exciting thing that happened today was when Nate’s nephews found a rattlesnake nest on the school grounds.”
Lydia shuddered. She still hadn’t become accustomed to the presence of poisonous snakes in Cimarron Creek. “I’m glad my news is happier. It was a relief to know Edgar’s alive. Opal never gave up hope, but I had my doubts. So did Travis.”
Catherine was silent for a moment, her expression thoughtful. When she spoke, her voice was soft. “I probably shouldn’t say anything, but we’re friends, aren’t we?”
Lydia nodded, wondering where this was leading.
“It’s just that I can’t help noticing.” Catherine paused again, as if she were choosing her words. “At first I thought I was mistaken, but it kept happening. Even now when we were discussing Edgar.”
Feeling as if she were walking through a dense fog, unable to identify familiar landmarks, Lydia stared at her friend. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Travis,” Catherine said, as if that would make everything clear. “I’ve seen the way you look when you’re with him, but it happens even when he’s not here. All you have to do is pronounce his name and your face changes. It softens, and your eyes get this faraway starry look.”
Lydia felt the blood drain from her face. “I had no idea.” Just as suddenly as the blood had drained, it rushed back, coloring her cheeks.
Reaching over to put her hand on Lydia’s, Catherine smiled. “Don’t be embarrassed. Your reaction is perfectly natural. Travis has stolen your heart.”
He wasn’t a coward, Travis told himself as he headed toward Aunt Bertha’s house. He’d remained at home long enough to see Edgar and Opal settled in the bedroom farthest from Pa. He’d stayed through the unusually silent supper. Edgar and Opal hadn’t seemed to mind. They’d spent most of the meal staring at each other, as if they still couldn’t believe they’d been reunited. Pa, perhaps mindful of Travis’s admonition to be civil, had said nothing beyond “pass the biscuits,” but Travis could see the anger stewing and had no desire to be there when it erupted. That wasn’t cowardice; it was prudence. Besides, he wanted—no, he needed—to see Lydia again.
“Lydia’s off visiting Catherine,” Aunt Bertha said when she opened the door. “I tried to tell her she ought to move in with us rather than live alone, but Catherine refused. Said she couldn’t impose on me. As if it would be an imposition.” Aunt Bertha gestured toward the sweeping stairway. “I’ve got enough room to house half of Cimarron Creek. Besides, it would be good for both Catherine and Lydia. Young folks need to be together.”
Without stopping to catch her breath, Aunt Bertha took Travis’s arm and led him inside the house. “I know I’m no substitute for a pretty young girl, but I hope you’ll keep me company for a few minutes. There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”
Travis followed Aunt Bertha into the parlor, knowing there was no way to refuse her invitation. Even if he claimed sheriff’s business, she would have insisted he could delay it for a few minutes. Experience had taught Travis it was easier to simply agree.
Declining her offer of a piece of candy, Travis settled into the chair Aunt Bertha indicated and waited for her to make whatever announcement she had planned. He didn’t have to wait long.
“It’s customary to ask a father’s permission, but since that’s not possible, I want you to know I approve. It’s clear to me that you have feelings for her, and I don’t believe I’m mistaken in thinking she returns them.” Travis’s confusion must have been evident, because Aunt Bertha cleared her throat and continued. “What I’m trying to say is that you have my permission to marry Lydia.”
Marry Lydia. The idea had occupied Travis’s thoughts for weeks, and though he’d tried to tell himself it was a bad idea, he had failed. Aunt Bertha was right. He did have feelings for Lydia. Oh, why mince words? He loved Lydia, and he wanted nothing more than to marry her.
“I can’t.”
Aunt Bertha’s jaw dropped. “Why on earth not? You two are perfect for each other.”
But they weren’t. Lydia might be perfect for him, but he was far from perfect for her. She’d already been disappointed in love once. There was no way Travis would risk her future happiness by asking her to be his wife.
“You’re right that I love her, but that’s the reason I can’t marry her. I can’t bear the thought of Lydia ending up like my mother. I heard Ma crying, Aunt Bertha. I know how unhappy she was. She claimed it wasn’t Pa’s fault, but . . .”
“It wasn’t his fault.” Aunt Bertha did not let Travis finish his sentence. “Abe did his best to make her happy, but the one thing he couldn’t do was be Chet.”
“Chet? Who’s Chet?” Travis had never heard the name.
“He’s the man your mother loved.” Aunt Bertha continued as if she hadn’t dropped a bombshell. “Cynthia met him when she was in Houston visiting some cousins. The way she told the story, it was love at first sight. They planned to marry when the summer was over, but then Chet caught swamp fever and died. When she came back to Cimarron Creek, it was as if the life had been sucked out of her.”
Aunt Bertha leaned forward slightly, her hands clasped in her lap. “Abe thought he could help her, and heaven knows Cynthia needed help. Both Jonas and I urged him to wait, but your father always was a stubborn man. He was determined to marry Cynthia, even knowing she might never love him. To give him his due, I think Abe made her as happy as she could be. It was clear Cynthia doted on both you and your sister, but I could see there was an emptiness deep inside her that nothing would fill. ”
Travis stared at the far wall, feeling as if the foundation of his life had been shifted. So much was clear now. It was no wonder Pa was as cantankerous as he was. Travis couldn’t imagine what it must have been like, loving a woman yet knowing she would never return that love. It wasn’t, however, difficult to understand how frustration and a sense of failure could change into anger.
And Ma? What must it have been like to have lost her true love? When she looked at Travis and his sister with their obvious resemblance to Pa, did she dream of what her children might have looked like if Chet had been their father? Travis’s heart ached for both of his parents.
“You may look a lot like your pa,” Aunt Bertha said, almost as if she’d read his thoughts, “but you’re like your ma in one respect: there’s only one true love for you. Don’t let her slip away.”
22
I don’t know how to thank you. I’ve never seen Aunt Bertha so excited.” Lydia spoke softly, though she suspected there was no need and that Aunt Bertha was so caught up in her own thoughts in the backseat of the surrey that she would not hear anything either Lydia or Travis said. “I don’t think she’s slept more than a few hours each night since you told her we could go.”
It had been over a week since Edgar’s return to Cimarron Creek. While the town was still reeling from the news, the surprise had made it an exceptionally good week for Cimarron Sweets. The women had all wanted to talk to Opal, but rather than admit that they were indulging in gossip, they preferred to pretend that they’d developed a sudden yen for a pound of fudge or a dozen chocolate creams. No matter what excuse they used, when they left the store, they could be overheard discussing how well Opal looked.
The focus on Opal pleased Lydia for several reasons. First, and most important, was that Opal was being accepted by the townspeople. Though they’d been polite in the past, Lydia had had the impression that they were watching Opal carefully, almost as if she were on probation. Edgar’s return seemed to have changed that. Now Opal was being treated like a full-fledged resident of Cimarron Creek.
That was good. So too was the fact that with Opal being the center of attention, no one was taking particular notice of Lydia. Ever since the day Catherine had declared that she wore a special look when she spoke of Travis, Lydia had worried that others might guess her secret. It was true that she cared for him. It was
true that his happiness was more important to her than her own. It was true that she sometimes dreamt of sharing her life with him. All those were true, but did they mean she was in love? Lydia wasn’t sure.
What she was sure of was that Opal was a woman in love. There was no ignoring the change in her, the new lightness in her step, the way happiness practically bubbled out of her. Opal’s face brightened, and she became almost beautiful each time Edgar entered the store. Though his duties as a deputy sheriff did not compel him to visit each of the business establishments on Main, Edgar had made it a habit to do so several times a day, thus giving him an excuse to check on his wife.
Opal was thriving, and so was Edgar. Each day his limp seemed less pronounced, perhaps because as his confidence grew, he forgot about his leg. All Lydia knew was that she had never seen either of them looking happier. Even Travis seemed less worried now that he had someone to help him keep the peace.
“It feels good to be out of Cimarron Creek,” he said as they crested another hill. “I’m trying to put my worries aside.”
Lydia glanced at the backseat, still amazed that the normally garrulous Aunt Bertha was content to sit so quietly, apparently enjoying the late September sunshine and the pastoral landscape. Though she had sighed heavily as they left Cimarron Creek, since then a small smile had creased her face.
Lydia turned to Travis. “Are you afraid Edgar’s attacker will do something while we’re gone?”
He shook his head. “I was thinking closer to home. I hope Pa won’t cause Opal and Edgar too much trouble.”
Lydia had wondered what kind of reception Opal and Edgar—especially Edgar—would receive and had been surprised by Opal’s description of their first days living with Travis and his father. “Opal says he’s pleasant to her.”
Raising an eyebrow, Travis asked, “Did she also tell you that he ignores Edgar?”
“No, but that’s probably better than yelling at him.” Opal would have hated having her husband referred to as the Cursed Enemy.
“No question about that,” Travis agreed. “Edgar says he isn’t bothered by the silence. He claims he’s relieved to have Opal away from the Spur, but I can’t help wondering if the truce—if you can call it that—will last.”
Since they were both concerned about tiring Aunt Bertha, Lydia and Travis expected to be gone four or five days, perhaps longer if they found something that led them to Joan.
“Edgar can always walk away,” she suggested.
“Or arrest Pa.” Travis chuckled as he flicked the reins. “That would keep the town buzzing, wouldn’t it?”
The hours passed more quickly than Lydia had thought possible as she and Travis talked about everything and nothing at all. She heard about his sister and her daughter, while she shared amusing stories about her former pupils. It didn’t seem to matter which subject they chose. What mattered was being with Travis and knowing they were helping Aunt Bertha.
When the sun reached its zenith, Travis chose a spot shaded by massive live oaks for their lunch stop, and the three of them devoured the fried chicken, hard-boiled eggs, peach pie, and cool tea that Aunt Bertha had prepared last night. As soon as Lydia had packed the remaining food, Travis assisted her and Aunt Bertha back into the surrey, then continued toward Ladreville. Though he’d explained it might have been possible to reach their destination in one day if they left early and made no stops, Travis had suggested they break the journey into two days for Aunt Bertha’s benefit. And so they stopped at dusk, enjoying supper at a small hotel.
As she savored the beef stew and biscuits the innkeeper provided, Aunt Bertha smiled. “I haven’t been this excited since the day before my wedding.” She laid a hand over her heart, as if to slow its beat. “I can’t wait to see Sterling and meet his wife. She and I’ve exchanged dozens of letters over the years, so I feel like I know her, but we’ve never actually met. It seems like a dream come true that we’ll be together tomorrow. I just know they’re the key to finding Joan.”
Though Lydia wanted to urge caution, she refused to do anything that would dampen Aunt Bertha’s enthusiasm. They would reach Ladreville tomorrow, and then Aunt Bertha’s questions would be answered. “I hope so.”
Travis simply nodded, as if he shared Lydia’s concerns, and continued to clean his plate. When he swallowed the last bite of the apple cobbler, he turned to Aunt Bertha. “Would you like to stretch your legs before retiring? I thought I’d take a short walk.”
Aunt Bertha shook her head. “I’m going to try to sleep, but don’t let that stop you and Lydia.” She gave Lydia a quick smile. “Don’t worry about waking me when you return. I’m a deep sleeper.”
Though that was a lie and she would probably disturb the other woman when she entered the room they were sharing, Lydia simply nodded. “I’m worried about her,” she said a few minutes later as she and Travis strolled down the road away from the hotel. A quarter moon shone from the ebony sky, its reflected light doing nothing to dispel the concerns that weighed so heavily on Lydia.
“What will she do if she can’t find Joan?” Even though Aunt Bertha had once admitted that she knew it was unlikely she would discover anything that might lead her to her daughter, her excitement today told Lydia she had new hopes. Lydia hated the thought that those hopes might be dashed.
Travis laid his hand on top of the one Lydia had put on the crook of his elbow. “At least she’ll have tried, and you’ll be there to comfort her.”
What comforted Lydia was the warmth of Travis’s hand on hers. Though they often walked together, this was the first time he’d kept his hand on hers, and it felt good. Oh, so good.
“You’ve made a big difference in Aunt Bertha’s life,” Travis said. While it was difficult to see his face in the darkness, Lydia heard his voice deepen. “For that matter, you’ve made a big difference in mine.”
She had? The thought caused Lydia’s heart to skip a beat. There had been times when she had thought he might return the tender feelings she had developed for him, but never before had Travis said anything like this. “What do you mean?” Though she longed to know how she’d affected Travis, Lydia focused on Aunt Bertha. “I feel like she’s the one who gives, and I’m the taker.”
Travis stopped and turned to face Lydia. “You’re wrong about that. You’ve given Aunt Bertha a new reason to live. Before you came, she was lonely and discouraged. Now she’s energized again. She reminds me of the Aunt Bertha I knew ten years ago.”
Travis tightened his grip on Lydia’s hand, the warmth of his palm sending pulses of delight through her veins. “I won’t say you’ve taken her daughter’s place, but you’ve become the granddaughter Aunt Bertha always wanted.”
That was more than Lydia had dared hope for, and tears of joy filled her eyes as she said, “I couldn’t love her more if she was my real grandmother. She made me feel welcome my first day in Cimarron Creek, and she hasn’t stopped since.”
“I notice you didn’t say that about me.”
Though Travis’s voice held a mocking tone that told Lydia he was joking, she decided to answer seriously. “You were preoccupied the day I arrived.”
He laughed. “That’s one way to describe it. All I could think about when I went to meet the stagecoach was that trouble was coming.”
“And then I stepped off it and proved you right.”
“Hardly.” His voice turned serious. “I was expecting my father. I knew he’d have nothing good to say, but instead of an angry old man, I saw a beautiful young woman. My life hasn’t been the same since.”
“Because now you can have all the fudge and toffee you want.”
Travis laughed again. “That’s true. I’m not discounting the appeal of your candies, but that’s not the biggest change in my life. I don’t know how you do it, Lydia, but somehow you make me laugh. That’s the nicest gift anyone’s ever given me.”
As he looked down at her, Travis smiled. “It’s too beautiful an evening to waste talking.”
“What
did you have in mind?”
His smile widened. “This.”
Travis placed his finger under Lydia’s chin and tipped it up. Then, slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, he lowered his lips to hers.
Lydia had heard about kisses. She’d dreamt about them. She’d even experienced one the day Edgar had asked her to marry him and another the day he’d left Syracuse. But never had she known a kiss like this one. The touch of Travis’s lips on hers sent waves of pleasure up her arms and down her spine, turning her into a tingling mass of nerves. She tasted the sweetness of apple cobbler, smelled the fresh scent that was uniquely Travis’s, and heard his faint intake of breath as he paused for a second before deepening the kiss.
It was wonderful, marvelous, stupendous. Though Lydia was a teacher who prided herself on her extensive vocabulary, the reality of Travis’s kiss was greater than anything she had ever imagined. Words were inadequate to describe how she felt, how being so close to Travis made her senses sing. All that mattered were the unforgettable sensations his touch was creating.
When her legs threatened to buckle from sheer delight, Lydia leaned against Travis and felt the reassuring warmth of his arms around her. This was what a kiss was meant to be: sweet, sincere and oh, so special, because she was sharing it with Travis.
23
You look as excited as me.”
Lydia smiled at the woman seated next to her. Aunt Bertha was her talkative self, which was one of the reasons Lydia sat in the back of the surrey this morning. The other and equally important reason was that she feared the older woman would guess what had happened last night if she saw Lydia with Travis.
Ever since her conversation with Catherine, Lydia had been concerned that Aunt Bertha might guess the depth of her feelings for Travis. She suspected it would be even more difficult to hide those feelings if she were so close to Travis again. As it was, she had lain awake, reliving those wonderful moments when she’d been in his arms. Then, when she’d finally fallen asleep, she had dreamt of him, and this morning when he’d smiled at her across the breakfast table, she’d felt a blush rise to her cheeks.