by Anna Schmidt
He took a couple shortcuts cross country to lessen the distance between them and ended up riding along the ridge above an arroyo with an expansive view of the countryside. He scanned the horizon, looking for a lone rider. Instead, he saw a wagon plodding along with two people on the seat and somebody curled up in the back. A pack mule was tied to the rear. Since these folks were the only sign of life he’d seen, and they were squarely on the trail Amanda would have taken, he decided to ride down and see if they might have seen her.
But the closer he got, the more familiar the two people sitting up front on the wagon got. He recognized Amanda’s hair first and then realized Jim Matthews was driving the wagon. The whole scene made no sense. Where was Amanda’s horse? Had he misunderstood her message at breakfast? Was she really headed to the ranch—and with the druggist?
Jealousy ate at him like an attack of fire ants. He considered riding on, but when Matthews glanced his way, he decided there was little choice but to meet up with them. Amanda said something to Jim, and then the druggist pulled the wagon to a halt and waved. Seth waved back and kicked his horse to a gallop to make up the distance between them.
“Miss Porterfield ran into a bit of trouble,” Matthews said when Seth came alongside. “Somebody shot the old man back there. We’re headed for the ranch to meet up with my daughter, and hopefully Addie.” He snapped the reins, and the team started forward. Seth and his horse kept pace.
“You found him like this—shot, I mean?” Seth asked, keeping his eyes on Amanda. He’d gotten a better look at the man passed out in the rear of the wagon, recognized the clothing, and knew this was the same man he had seen going into the abandoned shack after the Baxter kid came and went.
“Not exactly,” she replied, squinting and focusing straight ahead as if she were trying to see her way through a dust storm.
Seth remained silent, his gaze fixed on her. Matthews glanced from him to her and back again. “There was a rider who apparently had a beef with the prospector. According to Amanda, he shot the man and rode off.”
“Did he see you?” Seth asked. Again, he was speaking only to her.
“Maybe. I guess.” She shook her head like a horse ridding itself of a pesky fly. “What does it matter? There’s a man back there who’s been shot, and we need to get him help and—”
“Ever occur to you that you might have been the one shot?” He watched as she slowly turned her face to look directly at him.
“Ever occur to you that this is none of your business?” she challenged. “Either help us or—”
Matthews chuckled uncomfortably. “What are you doing out this way, Grover? Come to check on that property over in Whitman Falls?”
Seth took the lifeline. “Exactly,” he said, and grinned at Amanda. “You don’t mind if I ride along with you, do you? It can get pretty lonesome out here.”
If looks could kill, Seth would have been a dead man.
Eight
When they reached the ranch, instead of riding on as Amanda had hoped, Seth insisted on staying with them all the way to the house and helping Jim carry the prospector inside. Of course, that prompted her mother to insist that Seth stay for the noon meal, although Amanda had not missed the way her mother’s eyebrows had lifted in surprise at the sight of him riding alongside the wagon. Ginny and Addie arrived shortly after they had gotten the old man settled. Amanda made sure she stayed close to Addie, fetching whatever she might need to treat the prospector’s wounds. But once Addie had pronounced the man in critical condition, Amanda worried that she had not done enough.
“You did what you could,” Addie assured her. “Now come, eat something. There’s nothing more we can do here.”
Seth sat across from her at the table, wolfing down Juanita’s menu of chicken enchiladas with rice and beans, announcing this might be the best meal he’d had since leaving home.
“And where is ‘home’ exactly, Mr. Grover?” Amanda’s mother delivered the question with a tone of polite conversation, but also a piercing glance that told everyone paying attention that she intended to gather information about Seth Grover.
“Chicago,” he replied.
That launched Addie into a long stroll down memory lane of the days she and Jess had spent there on their honeymoon. “I got my medical license there,” she told Seth. “An actual license.”
“Congratulations,” Seth said, and flashed her those dimples.
Amanda pushed away from the table. “I just want to… I just… Excuse me, please.”
She fled the room, reaching the open courtyard and gulping in fresh air as if it were manna from heaven. I cannot breathe when that man is around, she thought, and then she gasped. He quite literally takes my breath away.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, get a grip,” she muttered as she stalked off toward the creek and plopped down on a flat rock. But it was true. Seth Grover did not need to be within ten feet of her to feel his presence, see his handsome face, imagine what it might be like if they were to…
“Amanda? Are you unwell?”
She did wish people would stop asking that as she turned to see Jim Matthews coming her way and forced herself to work up a smile. “I’m fine,” she said, and patted a place on the boulder next to her. “I guess the chaos of the last few hours became a little overwhelming. Join me?”
He sat down next to her. “Addie says Jess sent word to Fort Lowell. Since the range is under their jurisdiction, they’ll send somebody to question the patient about what happened—if he makes it.”
“And they’ll want to question me as well, I expect.”
“No. Jess kept you out of it. Your mother suggests you stay the night, but Ginny and I should be getting back.”
Amanda nodded. “I’m so glad you came along when you did, Jim. I really don’t know what…” She fought the tears she tried to hide with her smile.
Jim wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to him so her head rested on his shoulder. “You would have figured it out, but I’m glad I could be there.”
It had been a long time since she had felt so comforted, so safe. And the fact that Jim didn’t seem inclined to take advantage of her vulnerable state made her like the man all the more. Maybe she was being foolish in rejecting the idea of allowing their friendship to blossom into something more.
“You and Ginny have a long trip ahead of you,” she said as she sat up and faced him. “You should probably get started.”
He nodded, but made no move to leave. “Amanda, about Ginny’s mother…”
It was a statement out of the blue. “Your wife,” she confirmed, realizing that a romance with Jim Matthews came with its own problems.
“When she left us, Ginny was only six. I had no idea where Essie had gone, or if she might return, so I took things day by day, waiting and trying to make sure Ginny and my boys understood that their mother’s leaving had nothing to do with them.”
“You’re telling me that she’s been gone—what? Ten or twelve years?”
“Eleven, to be exact.”
“And in all that time, you never…”
“I wrote to her regularly in care of a sister in California, but never got an answer. Her sister would remember birthdays and send Christmas greetings, but never a word about Essie. And then two years ago, a package came with the news that Essie had died, killed in an avalanche on her way to Oregon.”
“How horrible. What was in the package?”
“Some personal items—her Bible, a few trinkets of jewelry, and a picture of Ginny as a baby.” He drew in a long breath. “Until now, there seemed to be no reason to tell others about Essie’s passing. Ginny and I had settled into a good life. Still, it’s past time for Ginny to follow her dreams and find a man who will love her. But I know she worries about me. I’ve tried to assure her I’ll be fine, but the truth is I’ve been dreading letting her go.”
“She
won’t be gone altogether. My mother has always said that…”
“I know.” He played with a small stone, rolling it around in his hand, coating his palm with the red dust that covered it. “Look, I know we’ve just met and spent very little time together, and it’s far too soon to consider that there might be something beyond friendship for us, but…if Ginny thought I had found…”
She did not understand why, but she knew she had to stop him from saying more. She placed her hand on his, trapping the stone between their palms. “Jim, you are someone I know I can rely upon. I am so grateful for the help you have given me with the Baxter twins, and I truly look forward to working with you on the jailhouse project, and…please, can we let it be just that for now?”
He smiled, but kept his eyes on her hand, now covering his. “Yes. All right.” He turned her palm up and placed the stone in it. “A symbol of our everlasting friendship,” he said before pushing himself to his feet. “Ginny and I will see you back in Tucson,” he added, and walked away.
Amanda watched him go and saw her mother observing the scene from the courtyard. Constance Porterfield would have questions about her relationship with James, but she would not raise them. She would simply let her personal preference for James over Seth be known through veiled statements and comments about what a solid citizen he appeared to be and how she still had her doubts about Seth. But in the end, when it came to matters of the heart, Amanda’s parents had always believed that they needed to allow their children to find their own ways and trusted them to seek guidance when they were lost.
She waved to her mother, a signal that all was well. Then she walked along the banks of the creek, allowing precious childhood memories to wash over her—she and her siblings had played there, and she and her father had gone fishing together. She walked for some time, following the winding trail of the water, listening as it splashed over rocks, and savoring the certainty that whatever choices she made in life, this would always be home.
She was farther afield than she had realized when she heard footsteps behind her—boots that crunched over the ground with purpose. Secure in the knowledge that she was still on Porterfield land, she stopped and prepared to face whoever was coming.
Seth Grover strode across the land as if he’d walked there a thousand times before. He did not hesitate and choose one path over another, but came straight to her, his face shaded by the brim of his black hat. “The old man died,” he said.
“Did he suffer?”
“No. Doctor Porterfield said he never regained consciousness—just slipped away.” He placed his hand on her forearm. “There was nothing you could have done, Amanda.”
She walked toward the creek.
“We have to talk,” he said, following her.
“So you said in your note. What can possibly be so urgent that it cannot keep until tomorrow?”
“Sorry about that. I misread your comment at breakfast. I had no idea your real plan was to meet up with Matthews.”
“That was not…” She shook off any attempt to offer an explanation. Let the man believe whatever he chose. “Well? What is it we need to discuss?”
He removed his hat and ran his fingers through his thick black hair. He squinted at the sun, then back at her. “Mind if we get out of this sun?” he asked, nodding toward a cluster of cottonwoods that anchored a bend in the creek.
“Very well, but I do have to get back to the house.” She picked her way through brush and tall grass toward the creek.
“Too late. Matthews and his daughter pulled out already.”
“Will you please not concern yourself with my personal life? You don’t like it when I question your activities, so please show me the same simple courtesy.”
“Fair enough.” He indicated an old cottonwood tree that had fallen so it jutted into the creek. “Okay if we sit a minute?”
She sat and released an audible breath of exasperation.
He leaned against the trunk. “Eli Baxter has been making midnight forays into the countryside.”
“I know.” His look of surprise pleased her. “I saw him one night. He sneaked out of the house and took a horse and left. The following morning he was—not surprisingly—too ill to attend class.”
“Did you mention this to his father?”
“No. Ezra Baxter has a temper, Seth. I have seen the marks of that temper on his children, and it goes beyond acceptable discipline. I decided to let the matter stand unless it became clear that Eli had made a habit of these outings.”
“And how were you going to judge that?”
She sighed. “If he’d continued to miss class, especially in the mornings, then I was going to do something about it. I would have spoken to him first, with the warning that if I learned of any more forays, I would report it to his father.”
“But you never had that conversation.”
“I didn’t feel the need. Eli has been a model student, especially since Jim agreed to work with him.”
Seth’s mouth tightened at the mention of Jim’s name, but he shook it off and pushed himself away from the tree—and her. “Here’s what you need to know. Eli has not only continued his rides, he’s gotten mixed up with pretty bad ruffians in the bargain.”
“How do you know this?”
He smiled. “Now, there you go again, Amanda, asking questions you know I can’t answer.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
He stared at her for a long moment, as if trying to make a decision. Then he reached out and touched her cheek with his forefinger, tracing a feather-light line along her jaw. “Both,” he said softly.
He seemed to gather himself, pulling his hand away as he put on his hat. “That’s all I wanted to say, Amanda. The kid is headed for trouble. Hopefully, you—and Matthews—can get him back on the right trail.”
He turned to walk away, but she grabbed his arm. “Wait a minute. If you know all this, why not speak to him yourself? He would certainly pay attention to someone like you. You, of all people, could convince him…”
He went so still that she felt a tremor of fear rocket through her. When he looked down at her hand on his forearm, she released him. “Someone like me?” It was a raspy whisper. “Is that how you see me, Amanda? As someone people should fear? As someone not quite right for polite society? As…”
“I don’t know what to think. One minute you’re mysterious and standoffish, and the next you’re sweet and caring and…”
He took a step closer, his eyes dancing over her face. “And which do you prefer, Amanda?”
“Both,” she replied. She did not retreat as she knew she should have. This was a moment she had thought about a good deal. She had feelings for this man that had gone unexplored for too long, and now, as he studied her, reached for her, and folded her into his embrace, she understood that nothing she felt was one-sided. In this moment, at least, he was every bit as curious as she was about taking that next step and kissing her again.
* * *
Seth had kissed his fair share of women, but kissing Amanda Porterfield was different. As he had that night in town, he felt the expected carnal urge to take her then and there in the tall grass along the creek, and yet in the light of day, there was a stronger feeling—a confusing mix of the need to savor and protect, as well as the sense that one time would not be enough. A thousand times would not be enough.
He was touched by her sweetness and inexperience, and at the same time, driven by her willingness to go wherever he might lead. When he pressed his mouth to her lips, she settled in to learn the dance he silently proposed. She pushed his hat off and buried her fingers in his hair, tugging him closer. He could feel the pounding of her heart through the fabric of his shirt—or maybe it was his own heartbeat he felt.
Only the need to take in air could make him release her for so much as an instant. And when he did, they stood toe to toe, br
eathing as if they had run miles as they stared at each other. With both hands, she framed his face and allowed the pads of her thumbs to stroke his cheeks, the stubble of his beard.
“Amanda,” he said, and his voice was hoarse with wanting. “You don’t understand… We can’t… I’m not…” Words failed him as he felt the riptide of those emerald eyes surround him and pull him under.
“Then make me understand, Seth,” she pleaded.
In the distance, he heard the laughter and whoops of the cowhands coming in off the trail. The interruption brought him to his senses. Gently, he moved his hand from her back to her upper arms, and stepped away.
“I have a job to do, and when that is done, maybe then you and I can talk about where this might lead. But in the meantime, I’m urging you to take a serious look at Matthews. He’ll be good for you—good to you.”
“And you wouldn’t be?”
“That’s not the point, Amanda. The point is that what just happened here can’t happen again. I won’t allow it.” He looked around for his hat, found it, and held it in both hands. “Now let me walk you back to the house so I can say good-bye to your family and head back to Tucson.”
“I know the way back, so I hardly need you to walk me there,” she said, and this time she was the one to take a step closer. “I also know, Seth Grover, that you have not seen the last of me. Whatever it is that Eli is mixed up in has something to do with you and your mysterious midnight rides. Let me in, or I will take matters into my own hands until I can figure out what’s really going on.”
“No!” Seth saw the full extent of the danger she could not possibly realize. “You will stay out of this. I will talk to the Baxter boy and make sure he doesn’t get hurt, all right?”