Her Wild Journey_Seeing Ranch series

by Florence Linnington

  “You’ve changed me, you know,” he gently told her.

  “No. I don’t.”

  “Yeah,” he teased. “You do.”

  “All right. Perhaps I do know.”

  He let go of her hair, taking a deep breath and dragging her sweet scent into his lungs. Soon, they would have their own house, a quiet little corner of the world that would be completely theirs. Come spring, he would be working till his hands bled to get that cabin built.

  “How come I’ve only kissed you once?”

  Cadence tossed her hair back over her shoulder. “Are you complaining?”

  “Sure, but—”

  “It is not my fault if you are not taking initiative,” she interrupted, hands on her hips. Though she gave him a hard time, there was a playful sparkle in her eye. “Perhaps if you—”

  Now, it was his turn to cut her off, except this time, he did it with a kiss. Grabbing her shoulders, he pressed his mouth against hers, taking whatever words she had planned on saying and swallowing them down.

  With an intake of air, he pulled back. The blacks of Cadence’s eyes were rapidly shrinking and growing and her cheeks were the pinkest he’d ever seen.

  “How is that for initiative?” he asked.

  Cadence licked her lips, looking as if she was struggling to make sense of what had just happened.

  “Goodnight, Miss Hurley.” Tipping his hat, Beau took his leave.

  With each step across Winding Path, the grin on his face grew bigger. By the time Beau got to his cabin, he was about ready to dance a jig. Bubba was there, stretched out across the grass and waiting.

  “Hey there, boy.” Beau scratched the dog’s ear and let them both into the cabin. As he stoked the dying embers in the stove, bringing them back to life with a fresh log, the dog curled around a few times and collapsed on the old blanket Beau kept just for him.

  Everything was perfect in the cabin. Cozy, quaint, and warm. The only thing it was missing was the love of a woman.

  How had Beau gone so long convincing himself that wasn’t for him? He’d let himself believe lies that could never be true: that he wasn’t good enough, that he would only hurt others. Cadence had cracked him right open and turned all those ugly deceptions inside out.

  Beau was better than he had always believed. He had just needed someone to help him see that.

  As he settled down in the chair near the stove, his eye fell on the top drawer of the wardrobe. He’d neglected to shut it all the way and the darkness inside it gaped like an open wound. It called to him, reminding him that the past wasn’t completely done with him yet. There was still one thing to be dealt with.

  A tornado of emotions swirling in him, Beau went to the drawer and pulled out the picture frame Anna had sent. The first two photographs were on top of his wardrobe, but he hadn’t touched the third one since hiding it from himself. Now, he took it out and inspected it.

  Her. His Abigail. So much of his life had been about her, so much love and pain… and guilt… directed her way. He’d spent too much time hating himself—something she wouldn’t have wanted. He could almost hear her words, clear as if she was in the very room with him.

  Beau Johnson, keep on being stubborn and the only person you’ll hurt is yourself.

  She’d said that to him all the time and she had always been right. Especially now. Somehow, Abigail spoke even stronger after death than she had during life.

  “Goodbye, my love,” Beau whispered. “Till I see you again.”

  He put the photograph back under the flannels and shut the drawer.

  Chapter Nineteen

  19. Cadence

  Chapter nineteen

  The next day, Cadence had one foot on Earth and the other in Heaven.

  All day long, all she could think about was Beau. She imagined what their cabin would look like, what she would plant in the vegetable garden, how many cats they might have… On and on her plans went. Cadence had never been much of a dreamer, but this was an exception. She was not merely idealizing life—she was planning the best future possible.

  Everything was going her way. Even letting Mr. Dunst down—something she had feared—had gone quite smoothly. She had run into him in town that morning and let him know, as kindly as possible, that she had decided not to marry him after all. Because she did not want him to hear the news from someone else, she also told him that her heart “lay somewhere else,” and that she had plans to marry a ranch hand at Winding Path.

  Mr. Dunst had been disappointed, but he also understood. Though Cadence felt bad for letting him down, she knew she had made the right decision. Her life was for her to live.

  Now that she was finally in a position to make her own choices, she would keep right on making them until the day she died.

  Continuing with the mood of the day, Mr. Lenox stopped by at lunch with some good news: the schoolhouse in Hudson had some books they were willing to sell on the cheap.

  The school board, thanks to some donations, had just enough money scraped together to purchase the books for Shallow Springs. As soon as someone was available to make the thirty-mile ride, they could be fetched.

  All in all, the day was better than any Monday ought to have been. The only letdown came when Nat, not Beau, came to pick Cadence up from school. Though she could have ridden Pip into town herself, Beau taking her to and from school had become their own personal ritual.

  “Some cattle got stuck down in the mud near the creek,” Nat explained once he saw the look on Cadence’s face. He started to get down from the wagon to help her in, but she was already (albeit with some difficulty) pulling herself up into it.

  “That is unfortunate.” She frowned.

  “It happens every once in a while. Some of the cows are smarter than the rest.”

  Nat proved good company for the ride back to the ranch. They chatted about what summer would be like and his life growing up in Shallow Springs.

  “My parents live in town,” Nat explained. “My Ma used to fill in for Mrs. Flaherty at school.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “Yep.” Nat put his foot on the wagon’s front board and leaned back.

  Cadence had never seen someone get so comfortable while driving a team. “She thought about taking on the job before you popped up, but Pa didn’t want her to. He says she’s always exerting herself, what with church and the house and all. He likes to say she’s gonna work herself to death one of these days.”

  At the ranch, the yard was quiet, with only one of the dogs sniffing around. After dropping Cadence off at the front door, Nat took off to put up the team. She ambled inside, still feeling strange and empty thanks to not seeing Beau yet.

  “Good afternoon,” Clara sang as Cadence walked into the kitchen. There was a fire roaring in the cook stove and the room smelled of spices. Certainly, the kitchen was the best part of Winding Path.

  “Those look nice and warm.” Cadence nodded at the pair of pants Clara was darning.

  “Mm-hmm,” she nodded. “They are for your new fiancé. And I am just now finished!” With a flourish, she laid the pants across the table.

  “The men here do get a lot of tears in their clothing, don’t they?” Cadence asked as she took a seat next to Clara.

  “Yes, they sure do. I feel as if I’ve spent half my life fixing and threading pants. Take these down to Beau’s cabin, will you, dear? But first, have a cup of tea. It’s so chilly today.”

  Cadence did as Clara asked, having her tea and then tenderly folding up the pants before trekking down the hill.

  Gemma had arrived in the kitchen by then and supper would be on the table soon. If Cadence did not run into Beau at the cabins, then she would see him in the dining room.

  Humming a little tune one of the girls had been singing at school that day, Cadence knocked on the door of Beau’s cabin. No answer.

  Poking her head in first to make absolutely sure it was empty, she entered, leaving the door open for light. It was odd being in Beau’s
cabin without him there and she paused in the middle of the floor, looking around. The space was so sparse, so orderly, the bed made and everything dust-free. The only sign that someone regularly spent time there was the book laying on the table.

  She would put the pants on top of the wardrobe, she decided, right where Beau would see them. As she set them down, she noticed the top drawer was cracked. And though she did not mean to look, she could not help but notice the edge of a picture frame.

  Now, why did Beau have a photograph tucked away in his drawer? There were two other ones in the room, but displayed on the wardrobe.

  Not even really thinking about what she was doing. Cadence pulled the frame from its nest under a pile of flannels. It was a picture of a woman. Beautiful and young, she stared off into the air with large, emotional eyes.

  A sound at the door made Cadence turn around. She still had the photograph in her hand and sudden shame filled her. She had never been one to snoop, absolutely abhorring the practice.

  “I was bringing your pants Clara darned,” she quickly explained.

  Beau came farther into the cabin, his eyes going to what Cadence held. His throat twitched as he swallowed and silence enveloped the room. Why was he not speaking?

  “This was poking out,” she continued. “I did not mean to rifle through your belongings. I am sorry.”

  Cadence quickly put the frame flat on top of the wardrobe, afraid to return it to its hiding place, for that would make her feel even worse.

  “It’s fine,” Beau said, his voice strange. “Thank you for bringing me the pants.”

  Cadence clasped her hands and nodded. Her eyes could not stop darting to the photograph. “She is quite beautiful. Who is she?”

  Beau’s chest rose high and slow before he let out a long breath. He pushed his hat back and rubbed his forehead. “Cadence, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  Her heart hitched like it was mechanical and having a hiccup. “All right.”

  He was doing his best to look at her, but she could tell it was hard. His eyes kept straying, going to the wall, the floor, before returning to hers again—and only for a brief second each time.

  “The woman in the photograph was Abigail. She was my wife.”

  Cadence’s ears rang. Surely, she had heard wrong. “Your...”

  Beau nodded. “She died about six years ago,” he thickly said.

  “Um...” Cadence’s lips had gone dry. She tried licking them, but her tongue had no moisture either.

  “I had planned on telling you, Cadence—”

  “Then why did you not?” She had found her voice quite suddenly and with it, a fury that she had not known was brewing.

  Beau’s jaw hardened. “I was waiting for the right time.”

  A dry noise somewhere between a laugh and a cry left her. “The right time, Beau? I just told you that I can likely not have children.” Tears pooled in her eyes, more from shock than from pain. “Do you not suppose that might have been a correct time to share your own past with me?”

  Shoulders slumped, he rubbed the back of his neck. “That wasn’t the right time, Cadence,” he murmured.

  She hated that he kept saying her name. It made her feel trapped in a situation that was quickly spiraling out of control.

  “I wasn’t about to heap my story on you right after you told me that,” he explained.

  Cadence bit down on her bottom nip and gave a tight nod. She understood that much. She still could not make sense of what else he had said, though. Or, rather, believe what he had said.

  “How do I know you were truly planning on telling me about her?” she asked.

  Beau spread his hands in helplessness. “What?” he cried, voice loud, almost shouting.

  Cadence’s shoulders tensed and he turned away from her, knowing he’d taken it too far. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he shut his eyes. The painful sounds of both their breathing peppered the air.

  “I’m sorry, Cadence.”

  “I should go,” she whispered.

  Beau stared at her with wild eyes. “What?”

  “I need to go.”

  She did not move, though. She waited for an act from him, though she wasn’t sure what that act needed to be. He needed to stop her, to show her that he loved her as much as he should have.

  Yet… did he? Beau had told Cadence he cared for her, but he had never once told her he loved her. And still, she wore his ring. Why was that? Their engagement had been born not out of a prior arrangement. She was not a bride he had ordered.

  So, why had he never expressed true feelings of love for her?

  “Why are you marrying me?”

  “What?”

  “I will not repeat myself.”

  Beau shook his head in disbelief. “I’m marrying you because I care for you.”

  Cadence shut her eyes so she would not have to look at his face any longer. “I must go.”

  “Cadence...”

  She skirted around him, leaving the cabin and pushing her way up the hill.

  What was she doing here? Better yet, what was Beau doing? If he did not love her in a deep and real way, why had he asked her to marry him? He did not need a wife. Not like Mr. Dunst or some of the other men in Shallow Springs did. Without a practical or romantic reason behind their relationship, what was it there for?

  As Cadence blinked back tears, a painful possibility surfaced. She was a placeholder, a warm body to replace the wife Beau had lost years ago. He had already loved someone and Cadence, no matter how hard she tried, would never be her.

  Chapter Twenty

  20. Beau

  Chapter twenty

  Beau’s hands curled into fists and he resisted the urge to punch the wall. A log cabin could put up a good fight.

  There was no point in wondering what he had done wrong because it had been everything. He’d kept Abigail a secret from Cadence for too long and when the truth finally came out, he hadn’t been able to find the right words.

  Unfortunately, he also had no idea how to fix things now. But he still had to try.

  Leaving the cabin, he stomped through the dry grass. Bubba joined him, following close at the heel. Darkness had fully descended, supper long passed. Beau had spent the last two hours alone in his cabin, alternating between hating himself and searching for the right way to apologize to Cadence.

  The main house was alive with its usual post-supper banter. Several of the hands sat in the dining room, running their gums while drinking coffee. Without more than a glance their way, Beau went on into the kitchen, to where the women congregated.

  With his arrival, Gemma and Cadence spun around from their cleaning up to look at him. Right away, Gemma’s mouth went into a hard line.

  So, she knows everything.

  “Where is she?” Beau demanded.

  Gemma took in one of her long breaths, signaling she was about to go on a rant. Beau didn’t need to hear it. Turning right back around, he passed through the dining room once more and into the hall. Cadence was staying in the room at the very end of the house, in the part that had been added on earlier in the year.

  He knocked on the door gently as he could. “Cadence?”

  With the light coming through the bottom of the door, he knew she was in there. Beau rubbed his eyes, wanting to push away the last few hours. Everything had been so good not too long ago. Couldn’t they just take one giant step back and make it that way again?

  Beau pressed his palms against the wood and dropped his face. “Cadence, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I’m not that smart. I just… don’t know what I’m doing here, all right?”

  He licked his lips. By Harry, he just could never find the right thing to say. Two hours alone in a cabin rolling over every word he knew in the English language just hadn’t helped at all.

  “Cadence?”

  Not even a board creak came from within the room. He imagined her sitting in there on her bed, still as a mouse, hands in her lap. She had to be in so mu
ch pain, probably feeling like she couldn’t trust a soul. Beau had promised to protect her, to make her happy, and he had let her down.

  He hadn’t even meant to. He was just that lame of a man.

  “Let it be,” a gentle voice said behind him.