“No, of course not. But you’re here in the kitchen working when I get up in the morning, and you’re here working late at night.” He blew on his hot coffee. “I don’t want you working that hard. So I’ll hire another cook. It should only be a few days until—”
“Please don’t do that, Garret.”
He stared at her, taken aback by her plea. “I don’t understand. I thought you would be pleased.”
She smiled and placed her hand on his arm, her touch light and timid. “I am pleased that you’re concerned for me. But you’re my child, and I have missed eighteen years of caring for you and doing for you.” She lifted her apron and wiped her eyes. “These past few weeks have given me such pleasure! It was a true blessing when I came here and found you. And an answer to my prayers when your wife asked me to help her during the blizzard. It was a chance to make up a little for all the things I couldn’t do for you when we were apart. I like to cook. And I like feeling...needed. Please don’t take that away from me.”
He put down his cup and straightened, plowed his fingers through his hair. “All right...”
Her smile settled deep in his heart. He took a breath and hugged her close, the tenderness of his mother’s touch healing years of hurt.
* * *
“I understand you have ignored my wishes and are still working as a shopgirl.”
Virginia nodded, glanced at the clock. The trains were so fast. Where was the letter now? Chicago? Omaha? Laramie? Her heart ached to have it back. “Yes, I am. But I don’t want to discuss it now, Father—please.”
She whirled, the ruffled silk of her long skirt billowing out around her, and rushed from the sitting room. Tears blurred her vision. She blinked, grasped the banister.
“Virginia, wait...” Her father’s hand closed on her shoulder.
She stiffened, tried to stop the tears and steady her voice. “Please let me go, Father.”
“Not until you tell me what is wrong.”
“What is wrong?” She jerked around to face him, shaking beyond her control. “My life is wrong! My days are empty—meaningless! I have no use! No purpose! I cry until my head aches. My stomach clenches at the smell of food. And my heart—my heart...” She bit down on her trembling lower lip and buried her face in her hands.
“And your heart is breaking. I can see that now.” Her father’s arms closed around her. “Forgive me, Virginia. I’ve made a terrible error. I knew you entered into that pretend marriage to get away from me—to escape my poor choice of Emory Gladen for your husband. I thought your talk of love was mere posturing—strengthening your position against me and my choice of a husband for you in the future.” His hands slid to her shoulders, pushed her an arm’s length away. “I was wrong, Virginia. I see now that you truly care for Garret Stevenson. And, while I still doubt the wisdom of your in-name-only marriage to him, I believe you should return to Whisper Creek and settle the matter in your own way. And meanwhile, I will be here if you need me.”
She stared at him, astounded by his words, stunned by a flash of pain. It was too late.
He reached into his pocket, withdrew his monogrammed handkerchief and held it out to her. “Dry your eyes, daughter. Tomorrow, you will go and resign your shopgirl position, come home and prepare to return—”
She shook her head, took a deep breath. “It’s too late. Your remorse comes too late, Father.” Laughter and sobs mingled, bubbled from her aching, constricted throat. Her knees gave way and she sank down onto the stairs behind her. “I—I sent a letter telling Garret I would not oppose an a-annulment of our m-marriage.”
Her father grasped her arms, gave her a small shake. “Stop it, Virginia. Hysteria will help nothing.”
She gulped in air, stared up at him. “Did you not hear me, Father? There’s nothing to help!”
“Of course there is.” He narrowed his eyes, stared into the distance. “When did you post the letter?”
His brisk, businesslike tone steadied her. “Yesterday morning on my way to the shop.”
“Two days then...and you directed it to Garret Stevenson?”
“Yes—”
“And where do the people go to get their mail in that excuse for a town—the railroad station?”
“No, the mail goes to the general store.” She watched him turn, stride to the sitting room door and yank on the bell pull. She rose and followed him into the sitting room. “What are you doing, Father?”
“Fixing my mistake.” He crossed to the secretary desk in the corner, lowered the writing surface and took out pen and paper.
“But I don’t understand, what—”
“You rang, sir.”
“One moment, Thomas.”
Her father looked at her. “What is the name of the proprietor of the general store?”
“Mr. Blake Latherop.” Her heart leaped, reached for a thread of hope. She watched her father scrawl a note on the paper, pull a coin from his pocket and hand both to Thomas.
“Take this to the telegraph office. I want it sent immediately.”
“Yes, sir.” The butler hurried from the room.
Her father flipped the writing surface closed, clasped his suit coat lapels and gave a nod of satisfaction.
“What did you do, Father? What does that telegram say?”
“It says that you, Virginia, accidentally sent a wrong letter to Garret Stevenson and that you are ordering the postmaster of Whisper Creek, Wyoming, Mr. Blake Latherop, to return that letter to you at this New York address upon receipt. That the letter is not to be given to Mr. Stevenson. Now, I suggest you go and pack a valise for your journey back to Whisper Creek. I will have a ticket and money for your trip ready for you in the morning.” He rubbed his chin, walked to the window by his chair and looked out. “If you resolve your...situation with Mr. Stevenson and will be staying in Wyoming, write and tell me. I’ll have Millie pack the rest of your things into trunks for shipment. If you do not resolve your situation, come home. I’ll be waiting.”
“Oh, Father...” She ran to him, threw her arms around his neck and squeezed.
He returned her hug, gave her a mock frown. “And see that you eat a good meal tonight. Or no ticket or money.”
“I’ll eat, Father. If I’m not too happy and excited.” Her smile faded. “But don’t buy my ticket for tomorrow. I can’t go yet. Mrs. Lamb needs me in the shop in the mornings this week, and I’ve given her my word.” She pushed a strand of hair that had fallen free back into the mass of curls at her crown and met his astonished gaze. “I’ll tell her tomorrow that she needs to find a new girl, as I will be returning to Whisper Creek at the end of the week. I can wait, now that I know I’ll be returning, and you’ve sent the telegram so Garret won’t be getting the letter.”
“Being in Wyoming has changed you, Virginia.” Her father studied her a moment, then touched her cheek. “You’ve grown up.”
“I hope so, Father. I want you to be proud of me. And I want—” Her throat tightened, closed off her voice.
“And you want Garret Stevenson to fall in love with you.”
She blinked her eyes clear and nodded. “With all of my heart.”
* * *
“You’ll be in room six, Mr. Herzog.” Garret handed the well-dressed man the key. “It’s the first door on your right at the top of the stairs. And the dressing room you will be using is at the end of the hallway. Dinner begins at twelve o’clock and is served until three o’clock. The dining room is through those doors.” He pointed that direction. “Your room is ready, but if there is anything you need, such as an extra blanket, please tell our maid. She will be happy to get it for you. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
The man nodded, picked up his bag and climbed the stairs.
The front door opened. Garret looked up from the ledger Mr. Herzog had signed and hurried around the desk. “What can I do for you gentlem
en?” He glanced from the engineer to the conductor. “Is there a problem?”
“Not for us.” The conductor grinned, took off his hat and stuck it under his arm. “The telegraph line to the east is down again, and we can’t move without new orders, so we came to have a good hot dinner. We’ve heard how good the food is here.”
Pride surged through him. It was an odd feeling, being proud of the mother he’d hated for so long. How wrong he’d been! “Right this way, gentlemen.” He led them toward the dining room, motioned for Liu Yang to come to the table by a front window. “What happened to the telegraph line?”
“Who knows?” The engineer pulled off his cap and jammed it in his pocket. “Could be some of Red Cloud’s warriors decided to cut it. Or could be some buffalo decided to use one of the poles for a scratchin’ post. Or half a dozen other things. Whatever it is, it’s good news for us. Somethin’ sure smells good.”
“Excuse me, someone just came in. Enjoy your meal, gentlemen.”
He hurried out to the lobby, thinking about Virginia while he ushered a man and his wife to a table. He missed her more every day, couldn’t get her out of his mind. And worse yet, his heart—she had taken up residence there and refused to be moved.
He found himself wanting to talk over his problems with her...to share funny little things and big, important things. He wanted to tell her Mrs. Fuller was his mother and watch her face when she heard the news, to see her beautiful eyes shine up at him, to hear her soft exclamation of surprise and joy. He wanted to have his morning coffee with her, and his late night snack. He wanted her. His life was empty without her. He’d been a fool to let her go.
“Miss...could I have more coffee, miss?”
The question caught his attention. He scanned the full dining room. Liu Yang was overwhelmed. He rushed to the kitchen, grabbed the coffeepot and hurried back to the man’s table. “Here’s your coffee, sir. I’m sorry for the delay.”
A chair scraped along the floor. He glanced at the clock—ten minutes until supper was over and the dining room closed. He placed the coffeepot on a trivet on the hearth and hurried out to the lobby.
“Good day to you, Mr. Stevenson.” The engineer tugged his hat from his pocket and pulled it on his head. “That’s the best meal I’ve had in a long while! I’ll be back the next time the line goes down.”
The dining room emptied as quickly as it had filled. He picked up a tray Liu Yang had piled with dirty dishes, carried it to the kitchen and set it down on the cupboard by the sink. “The schedule will be off this afternoon, Mother. The telegraph line is down and the trains aren’t moving.”
His mother looked up from putting the worktable back in order. “What do you want me to do about supper?”
“There’s no way to plan—so no cooking. Just give the patrons cold ham and cabbage slaw, bread and butter, some fruit.” He looked at the threadbare spot on the arm of her dress, spotted another on the long skirt. “And for now, take off your apron and come with me.”
“But the dishes—”
“Li Min will do them. You need to keep that bandage dry.” He ushered her through the dining room into the lobby. “Put on your coat and hat while I get mine.”
He stepped back into the dining room. “Liu Yang, I’ll be at the general store next door. Come and get me if a guest needs something you can’t do.”
“Yes, meester.”
He grabbed his hat and coat from the sitting room, went to his mother’s room and knocked.
“I’m ready.”
Her coat and hat were more worn than her dress. He led her across the lobby, over the porch to the steps and down to the path that joined the stores, narrowing his eyes at the sunlight glaring on the snow.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To get some new clothes.” He grinned at her stunned look, helped her up the porch steps and opened the door of the general store. He blinked at the dimness of the interior after the sunlight and guided her toward the counter. “Good afternoon, Audrey. You’re looking well.”
“Thank you, Garret. You’re very kind.” Audrey placed a hand on her swollen abdomen and gave him a smile that included the older woman at his side. “How may I help you?”
His mother held back, whispered up at him. “Garret, please, this isn’t necessary.”
He grinned and urged her forward. “I know. This is for my pleasure.” He shifted his gaze to the proprietor’s wife. “Audrey, this is my mother, Mrs. Fuller. She needs some new dresses and shoes and whatever other, er, items of clothing a woman wears. She’s a bit reluctant to spend my money, so I suspect you’ll have to do most of the choosing.”
“What fun! It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Fuller. I’ve heard about your cooking and baking.” Audrey smiled at his mother, then shifted her gaze back to him. “And the limit?”
He shook his head. “You’d know the answer to that better than me. So I’ll just say however many she needs of whatever she needs, then add a few extra pretty ones just for pleasure. And make sure you include a new coat and hat and boots. How long before you can get an order shipped in?”
“That will depend on the dressmaker. Though they will have the necessary items, such as petticoats that don’t need precise sizing, already made and on hand. They’ll have skirts and shirtwaists for everyday wear, as well. Those things can be shipped as soon as they receive the order. We usually receive them in two days—when the trains are running.” Audrey picked up a paper and pencil and came around the counter. “Mrs. Fuller, if you will join me at that table, we will take your measurements, look through some of my fashion magazines and make out your order. And maybe discuss cooking while we’re at it.”
He smiled assurance at his mother, who still looked a little stunned and a lot uncomfortable, and went to the back room. “Blake...”
“Over here, Garret. I’m sorting mail while there’s a lull in the trains coming into town. You have a letter.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Thank you, Blake.” Garret took the letter his friend handed him and glanced at the handwriting. Virginia. His heart jolted. He folded the letter into his pocket and leaned against his friend’s mail sorting table, thankful Blake was busy and wasn’t looking at him. “Have you heard anything about when the trains will be running again?”
“No, all Asa said when he brought the mail was that the engineers can’t move the trains until they get their new schedules.” Blake placed the few letters in the boxes of Whisper Creek residents and removed his sleeve garters. “If they don’t get that telegraph fixed soon, you may have a hotel full of guests—the way it was during the blizzard.” He glanced toward the women. “Did I hear you say Mrs. Fuller is your mother?”
“Yes, she is.” He met his friend’s curious gaze, then glanced toward the back of the store. “Have any of the supplies come in?”
Blake shook his head. “I’m afraid not. They’re due in on the next train. Does that pose a problem for you?”
“Food could get tight if the stranded passengers all come to the hotel to eat. How is your stock of supplies?”
“I restocked after you bought me out during the blizzard. We should be all right—as long as this delay is a short one.”
He nodded, followed Blake over to the counter. “That’s good to know. But I’ve been thinking we need a couple of farms and a ranch in this valley. It’s not good having to rely on the trains to supply our food. We’re in real trouble when they stop running.”
“I agree. John Ferndale needs to change that rule. He could restrict ranchers and farmers by the amount of land he sells them so they wouldn’t cause any trouble.”
“Exactly. I’m going to talk to him about it before spring.” He looked at Blake, weighed the idea that had just come to him and made his proposal. “The hotel is doing well, and I’ve been thinking about investing in a ranch. Would you be interested?”
&
nbsp; Blake rested his palms against the edge of the counter and stared at him. “I hadn’t thought about that...” His friend’s eyes narrowed, and he nodded. “It sounds good. Of course, I know nothing about ranching or farming. I’ll give it some thought and get back to you.”
“No hurry. I haven’t made up my mind, either—but it seems too good an investment to pass up.”
It sounds as if you need to buy a ranch.
Virginia’s soft voice echoed through his head. He slipped his hand into his pocket, touched the letter. He was prodded by an urgent need to get back to the hotel and read it. Alone. “I know you’ve heard the rumor about some cowboys from Texas buying up most of the land in the next valley. If it’s true, and we bought the rest of the land, including the gap into Whisper Creek Valley, we’d have a strong bargaining point.”
He left Blake pondering his words and moved on to the table where his mother sat looking at magazines with Audrey Latherop. “Mother, I’m going back to the hotel. I don’t want to leave Liu Yang alone there for long. No, no, you stay here.” He placed his hand on her shoulder when she started to rise. “I don’t think Audrey is finished with you yet. I’ll be back to get you in an hour. And don’t forget the new coat and hat.”
He walked to the door, the letter crackling when his sleeve brushed against it. The bell on the door jangled behind him. He hurried across the porch, trotted down the steps and ate up the short distance between the general store and his hotel with his long strides. Why was Virginia writing him? Was the letter a warning that her father was still making plans to destroy him? Or was it something more? Was she coming home?
Home. His chest tightened. For the first time in eighteen years, that word meant something to him. And with Virginia to share it...
He jerked open the door and glanced around the lobby, blew out a long breath. There were no guests in sight. He tugged off his gloves, unbuttoned his coat and hurried to his office and closed the door. He pulled the letter from his pocket and threw his coat in his chair, his heart pounding.
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