Her Wild Journey (Seeing Ranch series) (A Western Historical Romance Book)

by Florence Linnington

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

  Gemma stood in the hall, hands on her waist. Though her voice was kind, her face was hard.

  Beau left the door and stepped close to Gemma, whispering so his voice wouldn’t carry. “I need to talk to her.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “It is most likely best if you give her some time first.”

  Beau worked that theory around in his head. He couldn’t rightly argue, being the man who had just taken two whole hours to calm down.

  “Fine, fine.” He paced in frustration, looked for something to kick, then remembered that wasn’t the right way to deal with his anger.

  “Come into the kitchen. Have some tea with us.”

  Gemma and Clara thought tea was the answer to anything. Still, he had nothing else to do right then. Going back to the cabin that was sure to be filled with nothing but his thoughts and regrets seemed unbearable.

  He grunted in agreement and followed Gemma into the kitchen. There, Clara was just finishing the dishes. As instructed, Beau sat down. He couldn’t help but cross his arms, though, nor stop himself from continuously adjust his weight. Cadence was right down the hall… and probably hating him.

  Would she forgive him for what he had done? Or would this be the end of their short happiness?

  He hated to admit it, but maybe he had been wrong about change. Maybe he was cursed after all and happiness just wasn’t meant for him.

  Clara set a cup of tea in front of him and both women took their seats, solemn and looking very much like a judicial committee. Beau braced himself for the lecture.

  “You got your pants?” Clara asked. She was already getting to work on the next task, kneading dough for tomorrow’s bread.

  “Uh.” Beau cleared his throat. Surely, this was some kind of trap. “Yes. Thank you.”

  She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Cadence is…” Clara paused, her eyes going toward the ceiling as if she might find her next words up there.

  “Very disturbed,” Gemma finished for her.

  Beau let out a grunt and sat up straighter. As much as he admired and cared for these two women, he wasn’t going to put up with them just sitting there and telling him how wrong he was. He understood well the ways he had messed up; he ran over the list every day in his head. The biggest shame in it all was having others know about his transgressions.

  “She told you… about...”

  Gemma dropped her eyes. “I know why you never mentioned her, Beau.”

  A big ol’ hollow space opened up in Beau, wind whistling through the spot where his happy heart should have been. His mouth was so full of cotton, he wasn’t even going to try speaking.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clara stop her kneading to dab her face with her apron. “You could have told us, Beau. We would have understood.”

  Gemma shot her a sharp look. “It is not that simple, Clara. It’s Beau’s past to do what he wishes with.”

  Beau stared at Gemma. He’d never seen her lash out at Clara. What’s more, she didn’t seem apologetic about it in the slightest.

  Clara pursed her lips and looked back to Beau. “Have you talked to anyone? The reverend? He was a good help when my husband passed.”

  Unease squirmed its way through Beau. Again, Gemma spoke for him. “It was so long ago,” she said. “Wasn’t it, Beau?”

  He nodded.

  Gemma shook her head, loose tendrils of hair slapping against her neck. “What good is talking to someone about something that happened years and years ago? It’s now that we need to concern ourselves with.”

  Still, Beau could only stare at her. When had she become so wise to the ways of gruff cowboys like him? Or had she always had this secret knowledge up her sleeve?

  Beau cleared his throat. If he hoped to eventually say the right things to Cadence, he needed some practice. Might as well start now.

  “Are you all mad at me?”

  “No,” they both responded at the same time.

  “Oh, Beau,” Gemma moaned. “Don’t think that.”

  “We feel for you.” Clara pressed her palm against her heart.

  Beau had to look away again. The sentiment was appreciated, but hard to take without getting emotional himself.

  “Do you...” Gemma paused. “Do you want to talk about it? To tell us about…”

  “Abigail,” he inserted, the name rusty on his tongue.

  Gemma nodded.

  “It was six years ago.” He cleared the tickle in his throat. That was all he needed to say. They understood, though. For a few minutes, the three of them sat there, Clara kneading dough and the steam rising from Beau’s tin mug.

  He knew he was lucky to be where he was, to have friends who were just as good as family. Though he’d left his birth family far behind and failed so far in creating a new one, he knew he would always have Winding Path and its inhabitants. Remembering that was enough to make him a tad more hopeful.

  “Do you want our advice?” Gemma asked.

  Beau looked from one honest, caring face to the other. He wasn’t one to ask for help. Most of what needed to be done, he could figure out on his own, but this was different. He was in the land of women, treading on ground he’d probably never fully understand.

  Beau nodded.

  “Please,” he added as an afterthought.

  “Were you planning on telling Cadence about Abigail?”

  “Yes,” he forcefully answered, sitting up straighter.

  “When?”

  Beau sighed. “I don’t know.”

  Gemma frowned. “Beau, you know when I came here to marry Mitch, I was engaged.” Her face colored. “Not in a truly consensual way. My parents wanted me to marry this awful man in New York, so I left. The very thought of telling Mitch about it made me feel sick to my stomach.”

  Beau didn’t know what to say to any of this. It was comforting to be reminded he wasn’t the only one with a past full of secrets, though.

  “No one is perfect,” Gemma continued. “Least of all me.”

  “You’re pretty grand, Gemma Reed,” Beau fiercely told her, his protective streak coming out. No one talked ill of his friends—not even those friends themselves.

  “I wish I could add my own story,” Clara sighed, “but my husband and I were fairly close. We married young and things stayed just, well, normal for many years. That’s not to say there weren’t difficulties. We had a lot to forgive each other for. It’s all just part of this life here.”

  Gemma nodded. “Every day, my marriage brings me a new challenge. Do you know what is so good about it, though? Each difficulty brings us closer.” She smiled to herself, her mind privy to something it wasn’t sharing.

  “What do I do?” Beau asked. “I already apologized.”

  Gemma scrunched her face in thought. “Then she is truly hurt… It is going to take more than saying you are sorry. Women like to be shown that they are loved. Usually through an action of some sort. Saying ‘I am sorry’ and ‘I love you’ can only take you so far. Anyone with a tongue can do that.”

  Beau’s gut began twisting something awful. Had he ever told Cadence he loved her?

  No, he dumbly realized. He didn’t think he had. How had something so important slipped his mind?

  Maybe it hadn’t slipped his mind. Could be, it was yet another thing he was afraid of doing. Beau often didn’t understand himself, but one thing he did get: he had a way of sabotaging his own will.

  “You could make something special for her,” Gemma was suggesting. “Or you could take her on a picnic.” She frowned. “I suppose it is too cold for that. Too bad. A picnic is such a romantic gesture.”

  “I think I know what I need to do,” Beau said, heart pounding and nausea rising.

  The sick feeling in his stomach was good. It told him he was on to something.

  “I’m gon’ go talk to her,” he said, standing up.

  Gemma gasped in pleasure. “What are you going to do?”

  “I th
ink I know the right thing. Thank you for the talk, ladies.” Beau left before Gemma could grill him any more.

  At the end of the hallway, the light coming from underneath Cadence’s door had softened. That was no tell-tale sign. With Cadence’s relationship with the night, Beau wouldn’t have put it past her to fall asleep with the oil burning. Not exactly the safest thing to do, but it likely comforted her a great deal.

  Swallowing down the knot of nerves that told him not to do this, not to expose himself and put his heart on the line, he softly knocked. Again, there was no answer. Cadence could have been asleep or, like before, awake and ignoring him.

  “Cadence.” Beau got closer to the door. “I just want to say once more that I’m sorry… And I love you. Good night.”

  Though he had been half afraid that saying the words would rip him open, what actually happened was they set him free. Beau loved Cadence. He’d known if for a while, of course, but saying the words out loud had an unpredictable effect.

  So, though Beau didn’t know if Cadence had heard his revelation or not, he left the house smiling.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  21. Cadence

  Chapter twenty-one

  Cadence arranged her books and slate, all supplies the school board had equipped her with, on her desk. They made a neat little pile. To the right, her freshly-sharpened pencils sat awaiting the next day’s use. The school was clean. The stove crackling. The children sat at their desks, busy finishing up the day’s math assignments.

  There was nothing left to do and it pulled Cadence down like a prisoner’s ball and chain. The morning had been busy enough. Taking her breakfast with her and getting to school early meant she’d been able to evade everyone but Clara and Gemma. The two women had attempted to milk her for information on whether she and Beau had talked, but Cadence remained tight-lipped.

  For now, she did not want to speak of what had passed with anyone. Nor did she want to think of it. She only wished to stay busy, to keep her hands and head moving so her heart would not have the chance to express itself.

  After leaving Beau’s cabin, she had run into Gemma at the house. The other woman had been able to extract the gist of what had happened and after that, Cadence took to her room, where she promptly proceeded to cry herself to sleep.

  She woke halfway through the night with her whole body aching. The pain felt almost like a fever, except it was different because she knew the soreness would never leave. Her heart had been broken. That kind of hurt, she would carry around for the rest of her years.

  And now, here she was, stiff in soul and body. The ups and downs of her life in Shallow Springs had finally beat her down. There was no more fight left. If she and Beau were to be finished, then she would accept that. No longer was her heart his. No longer did she wear the ring he gave her, having opted to leave it on her wardrobe that morning.

  “It’s three o’clock, teacher,” little Eddie Beeler announced.

  Cadence forced a smile. “So it is. Students, you may save the answers to your math equations in the corner of your slates. I will check them tomorrow morning.”

  The class arose solemnly, acting like perfect little ladies and gentlemen until they crossed the threshold. Once outside, yells exploded. The children were off, running in the direction of games and chores.

  A knock on the door, which had been left swinging open, made Cadence stand as well. Beau was there, already closing the door behind him.

  Cadence took a startled step back, hit her chair, and collapsed right back in its seat. She stared there, tethered to one spot by anxiety.

  “Hello,” Beau slowly said, his voice low and honey-sweet. Cadence desperately wished he didn’t have one of the best voices in the world.

  “Hello,” she choked out.

  Beau removed his hat, showing off that thick, dark hair and strong face. Though she had already convinced herself she would move on, Cadence was still a woman—still not immune to the attention of a handsome man.

  “May I?” He gestured to a chair and Cadence nodded.

  With him sitting across from her desk, another uncomfortable silence followed. Cadence waited. He was the one who had come to see her.

  “You’re not wearing your ring.”

  Her hands were in her lap. He must have noticed the missing ring right when he came in. Guiltily, she looked down at her left hand.

  “It did not seem right,” she quietly said.

  “Are you breaking off our engagement?” he hoarsely asked.

  Cadence gave him a sharp look. “Should I not?”

  Beau quickly looked down at his lap before squaring his shoulders and staring straight into her eye. “I don’t want you to.” He gulped. “But I understand why you might think you should. I’m sorry, Cadence. I tried to say the right things last night. Both in my cabin and at the house.”

  “At the house?”

  He returned her questioning look. “I came up to talk to you after supper. Were you not in your room?”

  “I must have been asleep,” she murmured.

  Beau looked squeamish. “I thought you were ignoring me.”

  Cadence let out a sharp, short laugh. “No. I did not know you were there.”

  Beau twisted his lips, his face coloring. “Shucks.”

  Her laugh came out of nowhere. It seemed, despite what had happened, her heart was not as broken as she had assumed.

  “I love you, Cadence,” Beau suddenly said with no warning.

  She gasped.

  “I do,” he insisted.

  Cadence blinked, her tongue all thick and twisted, just like her heart. “This is the main reason you came here?”

  Beau let out a shuddering sigh. “And to apologize again. And again. However many times it takes.” Standing quite suddenly, he came around the side of the desk, got on one knee, and took Cadence’s hand in his. Warmth spread over her skin.

  “I’m sorry, Cadence. Really. I was going to tell you about Abigail, but...” His eyes grew red. Cadence could nearly see the pain in his heart and it made her want to break down crying.

  Pressing her palm against his cheek, she looked into Beau’s eyes. “I understand, Beau. I acted rashly. I am sorry.”

  Relief washed over his face and he stood, lifting Cadence up as well and embracing her. She buried her face in his shoulder, inhaling the wonderful smells of the ranch.

  Gently releasing her, Beau took his seat again. Cadence sat as well, happiness filling her up. But, still, there was one issue that needed addressing…

  “Beau?”

  “Uh-huh?” he eagerly nodded.

  “I have to ask something.”

  “Anything.”

  “Do you...” She gulped, glad he couldn’t see her hands twisting behind the desk. “Am I someone to replace your wife?”

  Beau’s eyes went wide. “Why would you think that, Cadence?”

  “Everything has been happening so fast. I arrived, we did not care for each other, and then we did, and… and...”

  She was losing steam. Speaking the words out loud made her wonder, was she being delusional?

  “Oh, Cadence.” Beau leaned forward in his chair. “No.”

  She sucked on her bottom lip and nodded. She believed him… she thought. Why was there still a strange hollow feeling pervading her soul?

  Beau was silent then, looking reflective. “You two are different,” he said after a while. “Neither one of you could replace the other.”

  The words were wonderful to hear, but it was the earnestness in his face that she really needed.

  “Thank you,” she softly said.

  “You believe me?”

  “Yes.” She bit down on her smile. “I do. I just… when you told me about your wife, my mind went all sorts of places. I suppose my instinct is to imagine the worst.”

  “Yours and everyone else’s.” Beau scooted his chair closer and, across the desk, took Cadence’s hand.

  For a long while, they just sat there, holding hands and
enjoying the new peace that had entered the room.

  After some time, Beau cleared his throat. “I can tell you about her.”

  Cadence looked at him in shock. “Do not feel you have to.”

  “No. I can. I want to be honest with you, Cadence. Abigail was my life… when she died...” He shook his head. “I didn’t think I would ever find something like what we had again. Until I saw you…. And I resisted it so much at first because I couldn’t open up to the idea of loving someone again.”