A Soft Kiss in Winter

by Lily Graison

  Speaking of his brother, Graham opened the front door, looked at him and scowled. “What the hell is taking you so long? If I’d known it was going to take you twenty minutes to tell her we were headed to town I would have gone without you.”

  “Hold your horses. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “I’m not climbing that mountain again with no sleep. I’ve been up and down it more in the last week than I have in months.”

  “The mountain?” Victoria said. “You’re going back up?”

  “Yes. We left those two unconscious up there and we have to go find them. They ate nearly everything in the cellar. If they’re still there and try to stay, they’ll starve before winter is over, not that I care what happens to them, but they belong in jail.”

  She nodded in agreement before lines of worry creased her forehead. “Will you tell the marshal about the other one? The one you killed?”

  “I’ll have to tell him everything that happened.”

  She looked horrified. “You can’t do that, Gideon. Graham said they’d hang a man out here for murder.”

  “Murder?” Is that what she thought he’d done? “I didn’t kill him because I didn’t have anything better to do, Victoria. He pulled a gun on me. If I hadn’t ducked the moment I saw him, I’d be missing the top of my skull right now.”

  “But what if —” she wrung her hands, agitation clear on her face. “I haven’t told a soul about him and I never will. Don’t tell him, Gideon.”

  “I have to.”

  “But what if—“

  “I won’t hang.” He took a step closer to where she stood.

  “What if you’re wrong?”

  The fear he’d seen on her face when he first found her returned in an instant. “I’m not. If I don’t tell Marshal Lincoln everything that happened when we find the other two, they will, and I don’t think they’ll tell the marshal the truth about what really happened. It’s my word against theirs. I’ll have to tell him everything.”

  “How do you even know they’re still up there?”

  “We don’t, but we have to go in case they are. They belong in jail, both of them. They shouldn’t get away with what they did to you.”

  Her gaze slid over the bruises on his face, then lowered to the sling holding his broken arm. “Or you,” she said. Fear still lingered in her eyes but after a few moments, she nodded her head at him. “Go on then.” She looked to the window. He did the same. It was nearly full dark. They’d have to hurry. He searched the road through the window. Maybe he should take her with them. Would she think him silly for suggesting it? Would she leave again if he wasn’t there? “Will you be here when we get back?”

  She looked puzzled at the question. “I have nowhere else to go.”

  Her declaration of love whispered through his mind again as he stood there staring at her. He’d never thought to hear those words directed at him from anyone and the moment he did, he’d stood there like a deaf mute. He should have told her he loved her too and regretted he hadn’t. It was too late now. He couldn’t just say them and walk out the door. They needed time and privacy and Graham was still by the door waiting for him. “We’ll talk when I get back, all right?”

  She nodded but didn’t say anything. He left her there in his kitchen, thoughts racing wildly in his head. He’d wanted to grab her and kiss away the frown drawing the corners of her mouth down but knew if he did, he’d never make it to town to talk to the marshal. He’d tell her once he got back. He’d make things between them right again. He had to because as much as he hated to admit it, Graham was right. He was going to lose her if he didn’t do something and he wasn’t about to let that happen. Not now. If she left after he told her what really happened the night Nora died, then he could at least say he’d tried. He just prayed his worst fears didn’t come true when he did.

  Victoria woke with a start, not sure of what had awakened her. The house was quiet and the usual scent of woodsmoke and Graham’s terrible coffee didn’t fill the air.

  She sat up and pushed the blankets off her shoulders and stared at them in confusion, then looked around the room. She was in Gideon’s bedroom. How did she get in here? She’d been waiting in the main room for him, not in here.

  Pushing the blankets away, she stood. She was still in her dress and stocking feet. Her hair was falling down so she pulled the remainder of the pins out and brushed through the tangled strands before quickly braiding it.

  The house was quiet when she ventured out into the kitchen, bright morning sunlight filling the space. “Gideon?”

  The coals in the sitting room fireplace were still hot but there was no sign of Gideon. She crossed the room and rebuilt the fire to knock the chill from the air and went to Graham’s door when she’d finished. Her knocks went unanswered and she opened the door and peeked in. The room was empty.

  The clock on the mantel chimed. It was nearly eight a.m. She’d slept longer than usual. A quick glance around the room showed nothing out of place. Figuring they were outside, she crossed to the kitchen and lit the stove and started the coffee before Graham had a chance to come in and do it. Why it wasn’t already brewing was puzzling. Maybe Gideon had clued his brother in on how terrible it was and he’d not bothered.

  Sunlight filled the windows, the entire house lit in bright sunlight as the coffee brewed. Should she cook for them this morning? She and Gideon had a lot to discuss and she didn’t want to do so on an empty stomach so she grabbed a basket and headed out back to the chicken coop. As usual, it took her several tries to get the back door open. It stuck more often than not. It took several minutes of pushing and a small kick to get it to move. Graham said he’d been meaning to fix it but never got around to it.

  Once outside, she looked for Gideon. He, nor Graham, were out back. She wondered where they were as she collected the eggs. The hens must have been upset about something as there were only two of them. She collected what she found and carried them inside, setting the basket on the table. That’s when she saw the note. It was propped up against the sugar bowl that sat in the middle of the table.

  Reaching for it, she noted the penmanship, the letters curling a bit much for a man to have written it and she wondered which of the Hart brothers had such lovely handwriting.

  * * *

  Headed up the mountain. Marshal Lincoln wouldn’t wait since the weather was clear. He feared something going wrong when we found those two and didn’t want a storm rolling in and stranding us up there if it did. We’ll be back as soon as we can.

  Gideon

  * * *

  Her shoulders slumped. He was gone?

  She’d sat on the sofa the night before waiting for him to get back with full intentions of telling him to admit he loved her or they’d end whatever had been between them for good. Now that he wasn’t here, that talk they needed to have would be delayed even longer.

  She looked around the silent house and sighed.

  Breakfast wasn’t the least bit appealing now but she needed to eat. Her limbs were shaking from lack of food so she fixed the two eggs but barely tasted them. Cleaning her mess turned into sweeping, then dusting every surface in the house for lack of anything better to do. Gideon’s room held the most dust and she swept, cleared cobwebs from every corner and opened the window to let it air out.

  The large armoire against the wall drew her across the room. In all the days she’d been there, she’d not looked inside it. There wasn’t much there. A few shirts, a coat, and a stack of trousers. She pulled one of the shirts from the hook holding it and brought it to her face. It smelled like him. She smiled into the material, thoughts of him filling her mind’s eye until she felt his absence like a living thing.

  “Stop torturing yourself, Victoria.” She put the shirt back and closed the doors. She had to get out of here. She couldn’t sit in this house all day counting the seconds until he came back. Grabbing her cloak, she slipped it over her shoulders and headed to town to try and occupy her mind with something oth
er than thoughts of Gideon.

  The mercantile seemed to be where most townsfolk congregated and she found herself there again, listening to Ewan Campbell regale her with more stories about his Highland ancestors before he started to bemoan the fact his granddaughters were turning into old maids, Rose especially. She was nearly thirty and looked to be in no hurry to marry.

  As wonderfully amusing as she found the old man, little he said eased her desire for Gideon to come home. It was making her miserable so she refused to think of him again until she got home. She put him out of her mind and was enjoying the day before Ewan was led away by Daisy, the third granddaughter she’d met on one of her earlier visits to the store.

  Rose walked her way and stopped by the chair she was sitting in, holding her hands out to the large pot-bellied stove that sat in the center of the room. It looked out of place but it helped keep the worst of the chill out. The small circle of chairs around it seemed to be a popular spot for folks to sit and converse as well. Rose didn’t say anything, but something about her demeanor said she wanted to.

  Of all the sisters she’d met, Rose was the most standoffish. It wasn’t as if the woman was unfriendly, she just seemed to always be rushing about doing one thing or the other. Maybe she was the type to not strike up conversations with strangers. Victoria stood and warmed her own hands, glancing at the elder Campbell sister out of the corner of her eye. “So—are there only three of you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  Victoria felt her cheeks heat. “Your sisters,” she clarified. Maybe small talk wasn’t the best idea when it came to Rose. “Um, just curious if there was just three of you?”

  “Ah.” Rose nodded. “Yes, there’s just the three of us now. I’m the oldest, followed by Violet, then Daisy. Heather was the baby but we lost her the same winter my parents died.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right. It was a long time ago. Silver Falls lost a lot of people that winter. Half the town was sick and nothing Doc Tibbens did helped.”

  Victoria wondered if that was the same time Gideon and Graham’s parents took ill and died. She didn’t want her first conversation with Rose to be a bleak reminder of what she’d lost so she smiled and said, “You were all named after flowers.”

  Rose chuckled. “My mother loved flowers and named us each after her favorites. She said we were her own personal bouquet of happiness.”

  It was a lovely thought. The bell above the door chimed and Rose excused herself. Victoria had lingered for nearly an hour now and there was no reason to be there if Ewan was no longer around. Rose and Violet had better things to do than entertain her so she left the store and stared across town.

  Silver Falls was nestled at the base of a mountain. The waterfall could be seen from almost anywhere you stood and made the little town seem quaint, even though there were several shops lining both sides of the dirt road. The mercantile was the largest and seemed to be the one most people were drawn to.

  There was a dressmaker, a boarding house, a livery stable that doubled as the stagecoach station, the marshal’s office and a large white tent at the end of the street that men lingered around before going inside and coming out staggering and happy as larks.

  She turned and headed up the street, intending to look through the windows when Violet called her name. The girl was smiling when she turned to look at her.

  “Rose wants to know if you still need to send a telegraph. Tanner is riding down to Helena and can send it for you.”

  Excitement caused her pulse to race and she hurried back to the store, then stopped. She didn’t have any money.

  “What is it?”

  Victoria sighed. “I have no money to pay and I’m not sure when Gideon and Graham will be back.”

  “Put it on their account. They can pay it at the end of the month.”

  She was appalled at the idea. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t spend money that isn’t mine, that’s why.” She laughed and shook her head. “I’ll have to wait until they get back.”

  “Are you sure? It might be another week or so before—“ Violet stopped mid-sentence and scowled. Victoria turned as the girl stared over her shoulder and saw Ewan step up onto the sidewalk beside her. “Grandda, you’re supposed to be at home resting.”

  “Keep your heid, lass. I can rest when I’m dead.” He grinned and threw a look at Victoria before winking. “And I’ll cover the charge for your telegraph, lassie. You go give Rose your message.”

  His offer surprised her. He barely knew her. “Thank you, Mr. Campbell, but it’s quite all right.”

  “Och, think nothing of it. Now go. I’ll settle with Tanner while you do.”

  A tiny part of her wanted to accept, but she couldn’t. Could she? Ewan was still looking at her, waiting for a reply, if she had to guess. She really needed to get a message home. Her parents were probably making themselves ill with worry over her. Thomas had refused to let her contact them when they stopped in Fort Benton and bought the wagon. He said they needed every penny they had to buy their supplies but now that she’s had time to think, she knew her parents would have sent someone for her—and Thomas probably knew it, too.

  But Thomas was gone now and she needed to at least let them know she was still alive. Getting a message to them was important, even if they were forever disappointed in her. If things with Gideon didn’t work out, she’d need her parents. She only hoped they’d take her back in. She smiled at Ewan and met his gaze. “I would be most thankful for your help, Mr. Campbell.”

  He grinned, his chest puffing up as he straightened and looked down at her. “You run on in and give Rose your message, lass. I’ll go have a word with Tanner.”

  Victoria entered the store behind Violet and followed her over to the counter where Rose stood with pencil and paper in hand.

  “What’s the message?” Rose said. “Make it short. They charge by the word.”

  A short message? How would she ever tell them all that’s happened in only a few words? And what did she tell them? That she was alive and well? To not worry?

  More questions rattled inside her head as she stood there thinking and one screamed the loudest. Did she tell them she was staying or did she ask them to send money so she could get home?

  “Well?”

  “I’m thinking. Give me a moment, please.” Things with Gideon were still so confusing. Did he want her to stay? Would it make a difference to him if she wasn’t there? He’d seemed concerned for her well-being after finding her when she got lost on the mountain. Surely that wasn’t the actions of a man who didn’t care about her.

  But were they actions of a man who wanted to keep her forever?

  Rose was still staring at her, waiting, and she was out of time. “All right,” she said. “The message. Put—Alive and well in Silver Falls, Montana. Thomas dead. Will write home soon.” She didn’t mention money. She didn’t want to advertise her circumstances to everyone within hearing distance and she wasn’t even sure how’d she get it if they did sent it. Was there a bank here? She hadn’t seen a building that looked as if it was one but she’d not been inside them all.

  She thanked Rose and Tanner and tried to thank Ewan Campbell again but Daisy entered the store, her face red, breath heaving and ushered him off back home. She said her goodbyes to Rose and Violet and headed back out onto the sidewalk.

  If her parents were still willing to see to her welfare, she could imagine they’d send someone to fetch her once they learned where she was. Getting to know the people who lived here would be pointless if that happened—unless Gideon wanted her to stay.

  She sighed. She had to stop thinking about him. She was doing nothing but driving herself slowly crazy with all the “what if’s” of their relationship. There was no reason to worry herself sick over things she couldn’t change and until he came back nothing was settled.

  Turning, she headed toward the house. The streets were busier today th
an she’d seen them over the past week and the narrow sidewalks in front of the buildings lining the street were full. She stopped more than once to let someone by. When she neared the end, the foot traffic grew and she wasn’t able to move in time and plowed into a man who stank to high heaven. “Excuse me.” She tried to skirt around him but he grabbed her arm, in an attempt to steady her, she assumed.

  “No harm done, pretty lady.” She smiled to be polite. The one holding her arm was a skinny fellow with bad teeth and bloodshot eyes. He also smelled as if he hadn’t bathed in months. His portly friend was covered in dirt and both men were staring at her a bit too hard.

  She pulled free and took a step back. “Good day, gentlemen.” She hated to be rude to anyone—her parents raised her better than that—but something about these two made her skin crawl. They’d said nothing inappropriate but the way they were looking at her made her feel—naked. As if they were peering clean through her clothing and were about to reach out in hopes they could get a feel of her.

  Her thoughts were confirmed when the portly one stuck his tongue out between his chapped lips and wiggled it at her before his eyebrows rose and fell in quick secession. The skinny one laughed as she turned, both men calling out for her not to run off as she doubled her steps. She looked back once she’d stepped off the sidewalk but didn’t see them and took off at a run. She didn’t stop until she reached the house.

  Chapter 23

  Gideon cursed under his breath as the glass beneath his booted feet crunched. Those two men he and Graham had left lying in order to search for Victoria had destroyed the cabin. Every window was broken along with every glass, lamp, and lantern. The pantry shelves had been picked clean, the flour, salt, and sugar thrown about the room and jars of canned food they didn’t take from the cellar had been thrown against the walls and now lay busted, the contents left to rot on the floor. The fabric coverings on the chairs had been sliced open, the sheets and blankets ripped to shreds, and the mattress on the bed lay strewn about the floor.