by Jo Goodman
"That's a fact." He held out his hand to Patrick, shook it, then got a good look at Ben's scarred forearms. "What the hell happened to you?" he asked bluntly.
"Accident in the forge," Ben said. His thick neck reddened slightly and his face took on the same ruddy hue. Dancer was the last person he had expected to call attention to his scars.
"Ain't near as bad as mine," Dancer said. "Maggie take care of you?"
"Day and night."
"She ought to be a doctor, just like she wants." He took Meredith from Connor. "In case anyone cares what I think." He sauntered off in the direction of the house, cooing and chatting to the baby.
Smiling, Maggie looped her arm in Connor's and leaned against him. "It's good to have him back, isn't it? I really thought he might not come."
Connor motioned to Patrick to take care of Dancer's horse and Ben followed. "Hmm?" he asked, realizing Maggie was waiting for an answer to a question he hadn't heard.
"What's wrong?" she asked, looking up at him. His features were drawn, the edge of his jaw cleanly defined. His eyes had a faraway look.
"Nothing." She should be a doctor, he thought. He looked down at her, smiled, and kissed her lightly on the lips. "Nothing," he repeated. "It's good to have Dancer back, isn't it?"
Maggie pretended she hadn't asked him the same question, pretended she believed there was nothing wrong. She squeezed his arm to her side more tightly, feeling desperate for a moment, as if he had slipped away from her. "Yes," she said. "And I'm going to bake something special to celebrate. A pound cake perhaps. Dancer's partial to pound cake."
Connor's hand slipped in hers, their fingers intertwining. She would make a cake, he thought. With her healing hands, his wife would make a cake. He wondered if he could get her to leave the valley, then he wondered if he could let her leave.
* * *
Queen's Point
Beryl stayed in the background while Rushton oversaw the loading of the wagon. Luke and Buck pushed the last trunk on and leaned against the buckboard to catch their breath.
"Damnable piece of luck running into them," Buck muttered under his breath.
"Rush isn't so bad," Luke said. "She's a piece of work though. Stay clear of her if you know what's good for you."
"Like I said. We should've left yesterday."
"You were busy yesterday, remember?" Luke asked. One of his dark brows kicked up and he gave Buck a rare half-smile. "Blonde. Brown eyes. About five foot two."
"Don't know how tall she was," Buck said, grinning. "I never seen her standin' up."
Luke gave a short bark of laughter and pushed away from the wagon. He saw a black bag on the wooden sidewalk and bent at the waist to scoop it up. "Missed one."
Beryl stepped forward. Her leather boots tapped lightly on the walk, her dark brown split riding skirt swung gently about her legs. "Don't bother with that," she said. "I'll take it with me."
Luke put the case in her hands. He moved out of her way or she would have brushed against him. He turned to Rushton. "We're ready to go, sir. Both wagons are loaded. Do you want Buck and me to each drive one or do you want to take a team yourself?"
Rushton's obsidian eyes narrowed slightly. There was a faint lift to one corner of his mouth. In that moment he looked very much like his son. "I'm not unfamiliar with driving a team," he said.
Luke knew about Rushton's stables in New York. Connor had told him about his father's matched driving teams. "Pardon me, sir," he said politely, "but this isn't Central Park."
"Have you ever been to Central Park?" asked Rushton.
Luke gave his hat a slight tip with his forefinger, conceding the point to Rushton. "I'll be responsible for the wagon with our supplies and Maggie's extras," he said, "if you'll take the one with your trunks and bags."
Rushton nodded. "Beryl? Do you want to ride in the wagon?"
She shook her head. "I'll take the bay mare. At least for a little while." She looked to her husband for a leg up.
"Here, let me have that bag. You haven't let it out of your sight."
She smiled coyly and gave her head a little toss. Ringlets of dark hair swept easily past her shoulder. "A lady can't be without her combs, Rushton, even in this wilderness."
He laughed, shaking his head, and helped her step into the stirrup. "You look lovely as always. Fresh as a daisy."
Beryl wrinkled her nose at him. It was not an attractive expression. "I'm not a daisy," she said. "Daisies are common." She missed Rushton's low chuckle as he turned away and motioned to the others that he was prepared to start. Beryl gave the mare a kick and moved ahead of the group. She held the black bag in front of her and from time to time she twisted the catch. She'd oiled it so it would unlock easily and from time to time she'd do just that, easing the bag open so she could look inside.
From time to time, she'd smile.
* * *
Maggie carried Meredith in a sling on her back as she picked spring wildflowers. A clearing among the trees on the hillside was proving to be particularly abundant. The sunny patch of high grass and flowers was also invitingly warm. Maggie took off her straw bonnet, let it drop to the ground, and placed her collection of flowers inside the crown. She raised her face and let it be bathed in sunshine. "Oh, Meredith, this is a day to be enjoyed. Have you ever seen such a sky?"
She took off the sling and laid it out like a blanket, putting the baby down. She sat beside her and stroked her daughter's hair. At three and half months, Meredith was more recognizable as an individual in her own right. She squealed with excitement, chortled, and cooed. She made eyes at her father when he approached. She batted at things that were put in her way, and when she got something in her tiny fist, she held on stubbornly.
Lying on the blanket in the sunshine, Meredith turned her head in all directions, trying not to miss anything. Maggie unbuttoned her blouse, lifted Meredith to her breast, and let her daughter suckle.
"That's what you were really looking for," she said as Meredith sipped daintily. Maggie watched her lovingly, slightly awed by her ability to care for such a fragile life.
Connor came upon them sitting in the patch of sunlight. A light breeze ruffled Maggie's unbound hair while nothing stirred on Meredith's protected head. Maggie's features were serene. A hint of a smile touched her mouth as she looked fondly at her daughter. Her dark lashes were lowered, her brow untroubled. It was a profoundly private moment and Connor respected it, staying at a distance, content to have been part of it in his own way.
He never knew what alerted Maggie to his presence. He didn't think he'd made any sound or movement, but suddenly he was aware of her looking in his direction and the smile on her face was for him this time and it beckoned.
Connor stepped out of the sheltering pines into the clearing. His long-legged stride brought him quickly to Maggie's side. He was carrying a large wicker basket and a blanket over his arm. Hunkering down beside her, he kissed her, lingering on the mouth.
"What was that for?" she asked, aware her heart was beating rapidly in her breast.
He laughed softly. "Does it have to be for something in particular? I saw a beautiful woman sitting in the sunshine and I wanted to kiss her."
Maggie ducked her head at his compliment, embarrassed by it. She stroked her breast with her forefinger, helping Meredith take the milk.
"I mean it, Maggie," he said, lifting her chin toward him. "You are beautiful." Her smile certainly was. He could never get enough of it. He dropped the basket and blanket and kissed her again.
Meredith was jostled from her food source and made certain her parents knew about it.
Connor pulled back, grinning. "Brat," he said. He guided Meredith back to Maggie's nipple. "She doesn't want to share today."
"You're incorrigible," Maggie admonished.
He shrugged, unabashed. Picking up the blanket, he unfolded it and snapped it sharply over the grass. He helped Maggie move onto it, careful not to disrupt Meredith this time. "Dancer said you took off in this direction
. He thought you might enjoy a picnic."
"That was thoughtful of him. And even more thoughtful to send you with the basket." She stroked her daughter's soft cheek. "Meredith and I wouldn't have liked it so much with just anyone." She gave Connor a sidelong glance.
"All right," he said. "It was my idea. Are you satisfied?"
"I don't know why you pretended it wasn't. It's a lovely idea."
He rolled his dark eyes and the hard, handsome lines of his face were suddenly boyish. "Maybe because you'd say it was lovely."
"Well, I won't tell anyone else, so your reputation won't suffer. Now show me what's in that basket."
Connor knelt on the blanket and opened the basket's lid. He pulled out cold fried chicken, thick slices of ham, baked beans, half a loaf of fresh-baked bread, and preserves.
Maggie's mouth watered as Connor made a plate for her, cutting the ham and chicken so it was finger food. She put Meredith at her shoulder and patted her soundly on the back. "Don't you think Luke and Buck will be back soon?" she asked. "I'm getting anxious to have material for some more clothes for Meredith, and I know Dancer wants to restock the pantry."
Connor put some strawberry preserves on a slice of bread. "I wouldn't be surprised if they're back this week. There'll be mail for you from Queen's Point."
She nodded. "Letters that have been sitting there all winter. It's the one thing I can't get used to."
"I didn't realize it bothered you."
"It didn't when I was trying to avoid my family, but now I want them to know everything that's happening. You realize, of course, when Mama and Jay Mac learn about Meredith, they'll descend on us."
"Maybe I should reconsider Rennie's offer for that tract of land."
Maggie didn't try to hide her surprise. Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped slightly. "You're not serious."
"Not the land she wanted initially. I wouldn't sell that, but I might think about letting Northeast Rail lease a back tract that Rennie once considered for an alternate route."
"But—"
Connor shrugged. "The Double H has different needs than it did before. Maybe we can't remain isolated out here. If there were a track on the property we'd be connected to Queen's Point and Cannon Mills would be connected to us. Denver wouldn't seem like the other side of the earth to you."
"It doesn't," she protested.
He wasn't listening. "We wouldn't have to drive the herd so far, and I wouldn't have to be gone for weeks from the property. It never mattered before, but now... with Meredith..." His voice trailed off thoughtfully.
"You grew up here without the rails. So did your mother."
"It was a different time," he said philosophically. "There are more choices now. And I'm thinking of you, too. You shouldn't have to wait half the winter for the things you want, not if there's another way." He looked at her and saw her face was ashen and that her eyes were wet with tears. "What's wrong, Maggie?"
"I don't want you to do these things for me," she said. "I don't want the valley to change because I came here. Meredith doesn't want it either."
He smiled faintly. "You can't speak for Meredith."
"Don't make fun of me, Connor. You know what I mean. You fought Rennie and Jay Mac because you were so opposed to having this valley cut by a rail line. You did whatever it took to keep your land just as it was meant to be. You sacrificed—"
He cut her off. "What did I sacrifice, Maggie?" he asked softly. "Loneliness? Dawn to dusk work with no one to make me smile at the end of the day? That's all I gave up." He put down his plate. "You gave me back this land. You gave me a daughter and you gave up your dreams. You're the one who made the sacrifice."
Though she didn't agree, she didn't know what she could say to make him see it differently. She wanted him to understand that she knew how he felt about the land, that she respected and admired his reverence for the space and the silence. She didn't want it altered on her account.
Connor picked up a small chunk of ham on Maggie's plate and fed it to her. "Eat," he said, brooking no argument. "You'll need your strength for what I have in mind."
Meredith belched loudly.
"That's what your daughter thinks of your suggestions," Maggie said. "It's the middle of the afternoon!"
"So?"
Under Connor's darkly searching glance, Maggie's objections were never voiced. "Incorrigible," she said affectionately.
His eyes dropped to her uncovered breast as she lowered Meredith onto her lap. "Encourageable," he said.
Maggie smiled and drew her blouse modestly over her breast. "In good time," she said. "Take your daughter and let me eat." She handed Meredith over.
Connor lay back on the blanket and allowed the baby to sprawl across his chest. Maggie dangled a sliver of tender chicken above his mouth. He took it with the enthusiasm of a fledgling chick. "I could get used to this," he said.
"Don't choke." She began to eat from her own plate. "And don't get used to it." Maggie let the silence fall over them. It made things seem close and comfortable. Gradually sounds from beyond the clearing made themselves heard. There was the sweet song of robins and the cry of the kingbird. A flutter in the trees high above them signaled a golden eagle taking flight. Squirrels moved in the underbrush. A pinecone was shaken loose and dropped to the ground. An intermittent breeze would shift the grasses, feathering them so a dozen different hues of green shimmered in the sunshine.
Maggie finished her meal and put her plate back in the basket. Meredith was sleeping soundly, comforted by the gentle rise and fall of Connor's chest and the steady beat of his heart. He was sleeping, too. Maggie's smile was indulgent as she stretched out beside him and snuggled.
It was the rifle shot that woke them. Connor caught Meredith as he bolted upright. Startled by the sudden movement, the baby let out a wail. He handed her to Maggie and got to his feet, looking toward the ranch house in the hope of seeing what had prompted the shot.
"I can't see anything from here," he said. "But it can't be an emergency or they would have fired again. I'm going farther up the hill to the ridge. I'll be able to see over the trees there. Why don't you gather up everything? I'll be right back."
Maggie packed the basket, bouncing Meredith in one arm. The baby's wail calmed to a whimper. "I know, dear heart, you want changing and you want your papa," she said soothingly. "And you'll get everything you want in just a little while." Maggie returned her daughter to the sling and fitted it over her shoulders. Meredith's fingers tugged hard on Maggie's unbound hair until Maggie pulled it out of the way. She picked up the blanket, the flowers, and her bonnet and waited for Connor's return.
"I thought you said it wasn't an emergency," she said as soon as she saw his face. His expression was grave, his dark eyes distant. "What's happened?"
"Buck and Luke are back."
That was hardly cause for the hard cast to his features. "Surely that's good news," she said.
For Maggie's sake he forced a smile. It merely set his mouth in a grim line. "They didn't come alone. We have visitors."
"Guests! But that's won—"
"Beryl and my father."
Maggie's jaw clamped shut. She stared at him mutely for a moment. "Beryl," she said tonelessly.
"My father," he said.
But Maggie didn't mind seeing Rushton again. If not for his wife, she would have looked forward to his visit, in spite of Connor's apprehension. "It'll be all right," she said, as much for her sake as his own.
Connor said nothing. He picked up the picnic basket and led the way down the hill.
They met Luke and Buck first, unloading the wagons at the rear of the ranch house.
Connor looked over the trunks still on the wagon and imagined what had already been taken in. "I suppose this means they intend to stay awhile."
"Can't say as to that," Buck said. "They didn't offer and I didn't ask."
Connor held out his hand. "Good to have you back, Buck. You too, Luke. We didn't expect you'd be gone so long."
Luke swung a sack of flour off the bed of the wagon and tossed it toward Ben who was standing by the door. "We tried two different times to get back. There was a landslide in Jelly's Pass. The horses could have made it but not the wagons. We thought about getting mules, then figured what the hell, we'd wait for the miners to blast the route open. Besides that, Buck here was in love."
Maggie laughed. "Were you, Buck?"
He jammed his hat down over his forehead and applied himself to his work.
"I don't think he wants to talk about it," Connor said.
Luke hefted another trunk onto the porch where it was picked up by Ben and Patrick. "Some of these trunks are yours, Maggie. Your sister sent them along with Rush and Beryl."
Maggie gave Connor's sleeve a tug. "We should go inside. They're waiting."
Before Connor could object, there was a scream from inside the house. Seconds later, Dancer came stomping out the back door carrying his belongings in a blanket. "Hell," he said disgustedly, "I was plannin' to move to the bunk house anyway." He jerked his head toward the house, his look contemptuous, and marched off the porch.
Maggie was embarrassed for Beryl's poor manners, but Connor's expression was thunderous. "Connor, wait," she called after him as he started up the steps. "She was just frightened by Dancer. She wasn't expecting him."
"Then she should damn well wait for an invitation next time." He caught the sack of sugar Buck tossed him and headed into the house.
Maggie looked at Luke and Buck, sighed, and followed her husband. Inside, Ben and Patrick pointed down the hallway and toward the guest bedroom. She thought she heard them mention fainting as they passed in the kitchen. She could just imagine the scene Beryl might have made. "Poor Dancer," she whispered.
They came upon Rushton and Beryl in the guest bedroom. Beryl was lying down. Rushton was sitting on one of the trunks that made the room an obstacle course.
"Father," Connor said. His greeting consisted of that single word and a terse nod. "Beryl."