by Jillian Hart
She walked around the curtain and into the kitchen area. Gabe was pouring two cups of warm milk and she could smell the slight sweetness of the drink.
“You’re fortunate to have a cow,” she said as she stepped closer to the table.
“I bought her when the children came.”
She nodded, unsurprised that he would do that for them, and then set her letters on the table before pulling out one of the chairs.
“I owe you an apology,” she said as she sat down. “Daniel told me he was the one who took my letters.”
“He was only worried you wouldn’t stay.” Gabe set the cup of warm milk in front of her. “He didn’t mean to do anything with them, except maybe show them to you. I’m sure he’d forgotten he even put the letters in my coat pocket.”
Annabelle nodded. “He said he couldn’t read them anyway.”
“He needs to go to school and learn,” Gabe said as he sat down, as well, and set his cup on the table. “I guess we just keep waiting for everything to become more settled before we send him.”
Annabelle took a long sip of the warm milk. “You mean for Adam to become more settled, don’t you?”
Gabe was silent for so long that she thought he might not answer.
Finally, he said, “Adam is a good man. If you can be patient with him, he’ll be a fine husband.”
Annabelle put her hand on the stack of letters almost without realizing it. “I wrote him six letters. It wasn’t much, but I think he should know me from them.”
The wooden planks of the table had been worn smooth with years of use. She moved her hand away from the letters and laid it by her cup. Then she looked up at the man sitting across from her.
“Adam thinks you are a wonderful woman.” Gabe smiled. “You should have heard how proud he was when you agreed to marry him.”
Annabelle felt suddenly very tired. “It was the hat, wasn’t it? He wrote how much he liked the hat in my picture.”
She wondered if she should have worn something else in her photo. That hat made her look like someone who she wasn’t. It might work to attract a husband, but she was beginning to wonder if it would make it more difficult to have a congenial marriage. The only other hat she had was a small black one she’d worn to her father’s funeral.
“I’m sure my brother was proud of you for more than what you wore on your head,” Gabe said softly, almost as though he knew what she was thinking. “He said you would be an excellent mother.”
“I love the children already.” She smiled at him. He couldn’t have said anything that would have soothed her heart better. She might not find love with Adam, but the children would be enough. They already accepted her. “I can’t force anyone to marry me, though. I thought Adam was willing to do so, but...” Her voice trailed off.
“He’ll marry you,” Gabe insisted and then paused. “He just has a hard time saying goodbye. He may have told you that our father sent him east to live with our grandparents when he was four years old.”
Annabelle nodded as the cup of milk grew cold in front of her.
“Adam resented it bitterly,” Gabe continued. “He’s having a hard time letting go of his feelings for his late wife. But he will. He just needs to wear himself out first. My grandmother said he was that way when he went back with them. He didn’t settle in for months.”
It took Annabelle a few moments, but she finally saw the pain hiding in Gabe’s eyes.
“And how long did it take you?” she asked softly. “Before you were at peace with his leaving?”
Gabe looked surprised. “I wasn’t worried about me. I wasn’t the one who had been sent away. I was fine.”
Annabelle nodded, but she didn’t believe him. Not really. Maybe that’s why she reached her hand across the table and lightly touched his. “It’s all right if you were sad, too.”
He looked down at the table, but not before he’d turned his hand enough to clasp hers.
The surge of warmth that she felt race up her face didn’t have a trace of sorrow in it. If Adam had the same depth of feeling that his brother had, Annabelle was beginning to think he might be worth waiting for. She felt closer to Gabe than she had since she met him and she wanted him to know her better, too.
When Gabe let go of her hand, she reached over and pulled the stack of letters to her. Then she started looking at the envelopes, one by one.
“I would like you to read one of the letters I wrote,” she said as she kept sorting through the paper. She never knew how to tell people about her injuries from the fire and she had done a good job of it in the letter she’d sent to Adam.
She went all through the letters and didn’t see the one she wanted.
“Is this all of them?” she asked Gabe, looking up at him.
“Adam kept your letters on that shelf. I’m sure they’re all there.”
“But they’re not.”
“If the letter came, Adam would have put it with the others. He had no other place to keep it.”
They were both silent as she looked through the letters once again, this time checking to be sure two letters hadn’t been put into one envelope. “I still can’t find it.”
She looked at Gabe. “You don’t suppose it fell out of your pocket when Daniel was walking around?”
“We would have seen it.” Gabe shook his head. “And I’ve never known the boy to be careless. Knowing him, those letters were tucked deep into that inside pocket of my jacket.”
“He showed me that pocket,” she said. A letter would not have blown out of it.
Gabe thought a bit longer. “I’ve heard people in town complain that we don’t always get every piece of our mail out here in the territories. It’s better since the railroad came, but sometimes a letter just never arrives.”
Annabelle’s heart sank. That meant Adam didn’t know about her injuries. She’d been so careful to be detailed about what she could and couldn’t do and he’d never read the letter. She felt foolish now for thinking that his lack of comment about her injuries had been because he was sensitive to her feelings. He might not want her for a wife even if he came back. Worse yet, he might think she was trying to trick him by not telling him about her limitations.
“The letter was important, wasn’t it?” Gabe finally said.
She nodded, trying not to let her worry show. She looked up and saw Gabe watching her.
“You’ll just have to tell him about it when he gets here,” he said kindly as he reached over and squeezed her hand lightly. “I’m sure everything will work out fine.”
Annabelle didn’t know what to say so she just nodded. Gabe must know his brother better than she did. She looked at the man sitting across the table from her. His face didn’t seem as forbidding as it had when she first saw it this afternoon. His forehead still creased in a slight frown and she supposed that a person glancing at his visage would think he was scowling. But she focused on his eyes now and she saw the depth of compassion in them.
“You’ll have to come visit us,” she said then. “When Adam and I move up to his ranch.”
She saw the shift in his face. The frown deepened and he looked down at the table.
“We’ll have to see what comes,” he finally said.
He sounded like he didn’t believe the visit would ever happen. But she nodded politely and tried not to let her disappointment show.
Before long, Gabe took a final drink from his cup and announced that he was retiring for the night.
He laid the key on the table. “Lock the door behind me.”
Then he went into the storeroom. Annabelle sat at the table by herself for a few more minutes, her fingers wrapped around the cup as it grew colder.
The circle of light from the lamp seemed to spread as the night deepened.
Father. She prayed the one word and stopped. She never was certain God cared when she called Him by that name. So she cleared her throat and began again, Lord, be with me tonight. Show me what to do tomorrow. I need your help and guidance. A
men.
Then she went over to the door and locked it like Gabe had asked. She was just going to need to trust God that Adam would accept her.
Chapter Four
Early the next morning, Gabe stood in the lean-to and slowly put a blanket on the back of his horse. The air was icy cold and he figured a few preparations now would make his journey easier later in the day. He was in no hurry. A thin layer of snow covered the ground, but his horse was accustomed to winter weather. The only reason Gabe paused so often in grooming the animal was because he wanted to give Annabelle time to wake up before he knocked at the door to the kitchen.
He’d already milked the cow and set the bucket where the cream would rise. The few chickens he had weren’t laying eggs right now, but he’d scattered a handful of field corn under their roost anyway. The children had turned him into a farmer.
But today, he had other work to do. He needed to assure Annabelle that he was going to find his brother and bring him home, if he had to tie him on the back of his horse to do it. After the way Gabe had felt, sitting at the table last night and drinking his cup of milk, he figured he should get his brother back here as fast as he could—and not just to satisfy nosy Mrs. Baker and her sister.
The truth was, he felt all too inclined to put his arms around Annabelle. He wasn’t as acquainted with God as he should be, but he knew a man was forbidden to covet what belonged to his brother. That’s why he’d prayed for strength to do the right thing last night. And, while some of his wanting to hold Annabelle was because he felt responsible for being the one to bring her the bad news about his brother’s absence, he knew that comforting her was not all there was to his feelings.
So he was determined to wipe away any feelings for Annabelle. She was promised to his brother, and, as near as he could tell, she still wanted to marry him. Besides, there were the children to consider. They wanted her for a mother and, it seemed, she melted at the sight of them.
“So that’s the way it’s got to be,” he muttered to himself as he ran his hands along the smooth neck of his mare. She turned to look at him with something like sympathy in her eyes and he patted her for it.
He knew it wasn’t always easy to live the right kind of life. But sitting in church these past Sundays had made him want to try.
He hadn’t been able to sleep last night so he sat up working on a tiny leather bag with a floral design on it. He hadn’t fashioned flowers on leather before and it required concentration. It didn’t stop him from wondering where his brother could have gone, though. Finally, in the middle of making a rosebud, he realized Adam wasn’t the kind of man to be content with green coffee and beans for long. That meant, when he’d left the mercantile in Miles City, there was only one place he would have been headed—Fort Keogh.
Gabe was so excited when he realized where Adam was that he was halfway to the other part of the building before he stopped himself. The door was locked and he didn’t want to disturb anyone’s sleep. He went back to his workbench.
In the past, Adam had always found something to do at the fort that would be rewarded with an invitation to have dinner with the troops. He liked it there. In the evening, there would be a game of poker. And maybe a jug would be passed around cautiously, while a soldier kept watch for any officer who might be walking by. Since Adam didn’t have money to drink and play poker in any saloon from here to Helena, the fort was the only place he would find a comfortable place to hide out.
Thinking of it now, Gabe pressed his lips together grimly. If he knew his brother, he’d regaled the troops with the story of how he’d run away from the parson’s noose. Adam was popular for his humorous stories. Gabe hoped he had enough sense not to mention Annabelle. Because if Adam did say anything, all of the soldiers in the fort would find some excuse to stop by the post here. And, no matter what reason they gave for coming, Gabe would know what really brought them. They would be hoping to marry the mail-order bride themselves. Women were scarce enough around here that Annabelle would have no trouble finding another husband if his brother didn’t follow through on their agreement.
Gabe felt his stomach tighten at the thought. His brother needed to get back here soon.
Gabe looked outside again to see if the sun had risen sufficiently to have awakened Annabelle. He was anxious to get over to the fort. But before he left, he needed to tell her not to let any stray soldiers into the post while he was gone. And, of course, the two of them needed to decide about the party they were having on Christmas Eve.
“I suppose Mrs. Baker will have the judge with her when she comes,” he told the mare. “He’ll probably want to get married, too, if he’s a bachelor.”
That earned him a snort.
Gabe decided that rather than standing here and fretting about things with his horse, he should go knock at the kitchen door and see if Annabelle was as worried as he was about the man she should marry and this party he’d offered to host.
* * *
Meanwhile, Annabelle had found a small mirror behind the washbasin across from the cookstove. She had taken it back to her bed and perched it on the shelf, the one that still held her letters, and then she tried to bring some order to her brushed light brown hair. She had already slipped on the black cotton dress she’d laid out last night. It was wrinkled, but it would be fine. It was her hair that was causing her to frown into the mirror. She was afraid she was going to have to braid it and leave it that way for the day.
After searching through her valise, she had gathered together five hairpins. She used to be able to put her hair in an elaborate coil with that many pins and have it perfectly secured. But, with her scars, her one elbow didn’t bend as well as it used to, and she couldn’t get her hair to cooperate as well as it had in the past. She needed more pins now or her hair would tumble here and there.
Not that she was going to ask Gabe for the French pins he had purchased. She hoped he would have sense enough to take them back to the clerk at the store and demand that his money be returned. She knew stores did that sometimes and, clearly, the clerk would have seen yesterday that things were unusual while they were there. The man had been so nice about the broken pear ornament; she thought he might show them some mercy over the ridiculously priced pins.
Her father would not have done so, of course, with a customer of his, but she hoped things might be different here.
She looked into the mirror again. She’d make do with a braid if she had to, she told herself, congratulating herself on being sensible, until she realized something.
“I can’t wear the hat,” she whispered aloud. “Not with my hair in a braid.”
She sat on the bed then, glancing at the small stack of letters. Adam wouldn’t even recognize her without the rose hat. Granted, it needed to be reshaped after the winds yesterday, but she had counted on fixing it up so it would look adequate.
Now she looked around in discouragement.
At least the children weren’t able to see her distress. Eliza was still curled up sleeping on the other side of the bed and, a few minutes ago, Daniel had put on those huge boots he wore and slid his arms into his uncle’s jacket. He looked like a walking snowman when he announced he was going to get water so she could make them all some breakfast.
Just then there was a knock at the door leading into the room from the trading post.
“Come in,” she called, rushing to finish the braid she’d barely started. She had unlocked the room after she’d dressed so she, at least, didn’t have to go to the door. Now her fingers flew as she crossed and recrossed her hair. She wasn’t as steady as she should be, but she figured Gabe had already seen her looking bedraggled. He might not even notice the unstylish braid. It was just a single one straight down her back like a schoolgirl would wear.
She had stepped out from behind the curtain by the time Gabe slowly opened the door and walked into the room.
“Good morning,” he said softly. And then he smiled at her. “You look nice today.”
She had to
stop herself from bristling, but she did examine him closely. “It’s still kind of dark in here.”
He looked even better this morning than he had yesterday. His black beard was a little damp, probably from the snow that was still slowly falling. But his eyes were alert and his hair tidy. His shirt wasn’t even wrinkled and her dress still had folds from being in her valise.
“You’re welcome to light the lamp anytime you need,” he said as he made his way over to the table. “I have plenty of oil for it.”
Then he looked at her with so much approval in his eyes that she was uncomfortable.
“No need to waste it,” she said, stepping into the room farther. Maybe he hadn’t noticed her braid and rumpled dress yet. “But thanks for the compliment.”
She watched him closely, but he didn’t seem like he wanted to take back his words, even though there was enough light where she stood that he could see her clearly. Her father would have criticized her on the braid and the wrinkles and the scowl on her face.
“I see you’re ready for work,” Gabe said and she figured that was why he hadn’t said anything about how she looked.
“I do have plenty to do,” she agreed, more relaxed now that she understood. A scrub maid never wore her good clothes; he knew that. “If you show me where things are, I can fix us all some breakfast and we can talk about what you want me to do to get ready for the Christmas party.”
That caused a cloud to cross his face.
“I wish I hadn’t invited Mrs. Baker and her sister out for Christmas Eve,” he said.
“You didn’t have much choice.” After he mentioned Mrs. Baker’s thoughts on the children being adopted, Annabelle knew Gabe had done the right thing. “You can’t risk them taking the children. And certainly not at Christmas.”
“No,” he agreed. “And I don’t suppose they will expect much in the way of a party anyway.”
“Oh, Mrs. Baker will expect to see that pear hanging on a Christmas tree,” Annabelle disagreed as she went over to the stove. “And she’ll want to see that the children are happy.”