Come Spring

by Jill Marie Landis

  Curious, she leaned closer. Of course, she’d never seen his chest, either. Was it covered with a thatch of golden hair like Buck’s? Were the muscles of his chest as sharply defined as an armor breastplate, like Buck’s? Her cheeks aflame, she let her gaze drop to the crotch of his pants. Was there anything about Richard that was like Buck Scott?

  As she sat there mentally undressing him, she knew he would be aghast at her blatant perusal and speculation over his anatomy. She nearly leapt off the settee when he glanced up from the paper and met her curious stare.

  He smiled. His teeth were white and even, his skin smooth and freshly shaved. She wondered if he shaved twice a day to keep it that way. Buck would surely have to.

  Buck again.

  And again and again.

  Buck Scott might be lost to her, but he was never out of her mind. It wasn’t fair to Richard to let him dangle on the end of a long rope.

  She had to end this travesty and end it now.

  But before she could speak, he said, “Is Rose making tea?”

  Annika cleared her throat. “Yes. Yes, she is. I should go see if I can help.”

  Coward. Coward.

  He folded the paper shut with a snap, set it on the pedestal table beside him, and took her hand. “I’d prefer it if you stay. I haven’t had you to myself for a moment since I arrived.”

  Tongue-tied, she looked down at their joined hands.

  Unfortunately, so did he. “You aren’t wearing my ring.”

  Annika pulled her hands away from his and smoothed her skirt for the hundredth time. She cleared her throat. “No. I left it in my mother’s keeping. I’m certainly glad that I did, under the circumstances. Richard, I—”

  “Annika, I want you to know that I’m still willing to marry you despite what’s happened.”

  “I’m glad you’ve finally brought it up because, you see, I—” Just when she had gathered courage for her revelation, he cut her off again.

  “I hope you don’t think your abduction matters to me. Oh, I know you were forced to spend two months in close proximity with that barbarian who carried you off, but the mere fact that you survived and were able to keep your wits about you only goes to prove what strong stuff you’re made of. That’s the kind of woman I need beside me. I’ve always been intrigued with your exotic nature. With you beside me I can conquer the world, or at least my little part of it.”

  She tried to imagine Buck uttering such romantic phrases, but the idea seemed ludicrous enough to make her smile. Richard had to be the most understanding man in the world, the most forgiving. Anyone who had read the account of her abduction in the papers knew that she had spent two months in intimate contact with a stranger—and now Richard was willing to overlook such scandal when most men would not

  She felt terribly guilty turning him down again. He was exactly the man her parents wanted her to marry. He was the epitome of Back Bay Boston. His hands were soft and his skin hardly ever saw the sun, but that was no reason to cast him aside for a man who didn’t even care enough to find out if she were dead or alive.

  With a glance toward the parlor door, Richard leaned closer.

  He’s going to kiss me now. Then I’ll know. I’ll know for certain.

  But he did not kiss her. Her merely squeezed her hand and said, “I love you so much that I’m willing to overlook your abduction just as I have everything else.”

  Taken aback, Annika frowned. “What else is there?”

  He shook his head as if she were the simplest creature alive. “Well, you know, the Indian blood and all.”

  22

  “THE Indian blood? What exactly do you mean by that?”

  Annika jerked her hand away from his and stood up, her throat tightening.

  He got to his feet and put a hand on her shoulder. “I had no idea it was such a sensitive subject or I would never have brought it up.”

  “It’s not a sensitive subject. It’s just not a subject at all.”

  He looked so condescending she wanted to slap him and slap him hard. “I suppose it’s best you handle it that way.”

  “That’s not what I meant. I just never think about it one way or another. It’s part of me, just as it’s part of Kase and my father.”

  “I’m sorry. I can see I’ve upset you, darling.”

  “Please, tell me what you meant by overlooking my Indian blood.”

  He reached out, fingered the matched pearls at her throat. She stepped back, unwilling to let him touch her.

  “Surely you must understand. I just wanted you to know it doesn’t matter to me in the least.”

  “Meaning that it does to some people?”

  “You can’t tell me you don’t realize your family has never been fully accepted in Boston? Good heavens, everyone knows the stories about your half brother and his savage temper.”

  “Don’t use that word in reference to my brother!”

  For the first time ever she saw a flicker of anger cross Richard’s face. “Which word,” he said, “temper or savage? It’s a well-known fact that your brother lost his job at the law firm because he nearly strangled a man in the office with his bare hands.”

  She remembered Kase’s abrupt departure from Boston. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

  “And the fact that your mother has been involved with not one but two Indian men?”

  “Involved? You make it sound as if she’s been having an affair all these years! Caleb is her husband. And my father, too, so don’t ever forget it.”

  He was sweating now. A thin line of moisture beaded his upper lip. “The only reason they have a foot inside the door in Boston society is because of Caleb Storm’s father’s family background and his connections in the capital.”

  “Why, Richard, I thought perhaps you had forgotten he’s a lawyer, not just a savage. His connections in Washington go back twenty years.”

  “Annika, let’s not fight over this, please. As I said, it means nothing to me.”

  “Stop saying that! If it meant nothing to you, you wouldn’t have brought it up.” Unable to settle her rattled nerves in his presence, she turned away and walked to the parlor door. She strained to hear Rose in the kitchen, but the house was silent. Determined to end it, she swung around and met his stare.

  “I can’t marry you, Richard.”

  “Look, I’ve apologized,” he said.

  “It’s not only because of what you said today. I just don’t love you enough. I don’t think I ever did.”

  “But—”

  “I was infatuated. I think perhaps what I loved most was the idea of being married. I wanted it all—the wedding, a home of my own. I wanted independence, not marriage.” She turned away from him and walked to the back of the settee. Grasping the walnut trim that outlined the velvet upholstery, she squeezed until her knuckles whitened. “My parents, bless them, have always made my world safe and secure. Obviously a little too sheltered. Because I don’t look Indian I’ve escaped the slurs my father and brother have faced, but I’ve never turned my back on my heritage. They kept me from the truth, obviously to spare me this sort of pain.” She thought of Buck and the vast differences between them, of her initial reaction to him and his way of life, and then of the change that had come over her when she opened herself up to love.

  “I see now that my mother and father should have at least given me a glimpse of real life, complete with its poverty, its prejudice, its pain, and its promise. I’ve had a taste of a new life since I left Boston and it agrees with me, Richard. I want to know more. I want to have the pleasure and the pain. I want to live. I want to face up to what I am and what I want, whether it’s good for me or not.”

  Richard’s face slowly colored from the neck up. The only other visible sign of his tightly controlled anger was the way he held his fists balled at his sides. “You’re making a big mistake, Annika.”

  With a slight half smile, she shook her head, denying his words. “I don’t think so.”

 
“Ankah! Ankah!” Unaware of the strain between the two adults, Buttons ran into the room. She grabbed Annika about the knees, bunching the many yards of velvet in a great hug.

  Annika swept Buttons up into her arms and held her, burying her nose in the little girl’s thick, bouncing curls, and breathed in the fresh smell of soap and talcum. Hugging her tight, Annika used the child to comfort her own aching heart. She was further comforted when Buttons hugged her back. Richard stood immobile, staring at the two of them.

  “I don’t understand how you can keep that child with you. Surely she can only remind you of that man,” he complained.

  “Apparently there is a lot you don’t understand.” “Rose says come now.” Baby was tugging on the strand of pearls around Annika’s neck.

  “Rose says come? Is she in the kitchen?” Annika asked. “Upstays.”

  Annika shifted Buttons from one hip to the other and held her away so she could understand what the child was trying to tell her.

  “Rose needs me upstairs?”

  Buttons put the strand of pearls in her mouth, sucked on them a minute, then let them drop onto the bodice of Annika’s gown. She nodded yes over and over. “Go get a baby.”

  “Oh, my God!” Annika thrust Buttons at Richard with a curt “Please watch her,” gathered her skirts, and ran up the stairs. At the top of the landing she raced down the hall, nearly tripped over a wrinkle in the carpet runner, skidded to a stop, and then as calmly as she could she opened the door to the master bedroom.

  Rose was slowly pacing the room, her hands at the small of her back, her forehead shining with perspiration.

  “Oh, God, Rose. Is it the baby?”

  “Sí.” Rose stopped, panting for breath, and then kept walking.

  “What can I do?”

  “Nothing. I think I do it all.”

  “This is no time to joke, Rose.”

  “Kase is back?” The usually headstrong woman looked panicked without her husband at her side.

  Annika shook her head, trying to stem her own mounting nerves. “He’s still in town.” She stared at Rose’s abdomen.

  “Oh, God.”

  Rose paused long enough to grab both of Annika’s hands. “Basta, Annika. Stop. Oh, God, oh, God. Maybe Richard will find Kase. And the doctor. Maybe there is time. I think though, it is better Kase is not here.” Her dark eyes swam with tears. “It is too hard for him when the babies die.”

  Shaking, Annika held Rose’s hands tightly and tried to calm her. “Don’t say that, Rose.” Then, pulling herself together, she tried to smile. Someone had to take charge. “We’ll do just fine. Now”—with the efficiency of a seasoned nurse, she led Rose to the bed, folded back the coverlet and sheets, and plumped the pillows—“you just relax. I’ll take care of everything. We can do this, Rose, just you and I, if need be.”

  Rose sat on the edge of the bed but refused to lie down. “I’m going to send Richard to town after Kase and the doctor, then I’m going to come back and I won’t leave you again.”

  “Buttons?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get Richard to send in one of the hands before he leaves. They all love to play with her.” She frowned, hoping there was a plate of cookies she could use as a bribe to entice one of her brother’s cowhands into babysitting.

  She raced back downstairs, wishing she hadn’t donned the heavy gown. It was a stupid thing to wear on a ranch, but she had felt guilty wasting all of the beautiful clothes she’d brought along with her. Back in the parlor, she found Richard seated on a chair, leaning forward with elbows on his knees, as he watched Buttons turn a somersault. Her three ruffled petticoats and full skirt completely covered her head and shoulders. Her plump round bottom swathed in frilly pantalettes stuck up in the air.

  “You have to go to town to get Kase,” she ordered smoothly. “There should be a horse already saddled—he’s had one ready every day for three weeks. Send Tom in before you leave. When you get Kase, bring the doctor and come straight back. Rose is having the baby.”

  She expected him to refuse after the way she had just treated him, but ever the gentleman, his refined background wouldn’t let him do anything so dishonorable. “Of course.” He stood and coolly bowed. “I’m on my way.”

  She felt her shoulders sag with relief. “Thank you, Richard.”

  He paused in the doorway. “Annika, I’m going to forget our conversation of this afternoon and I hope you do the same. I’m willing to take you back once you’ve come to your senses.”

  Before she could reply, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

  “I have come to my senses,” she said aloud. “For the first time in my life.”

  “ANOTHER one, marshal?”

  No matter how many times he told them not to call him marshal anymore, the citizens of Busted Heel ignored Kase Storm’s request. He nodded to Paddie O’Hallohan, the bar-keep, and tapped the rim of his glass. The bald Irishman with a fringe of white hair above his ears liberally sloshed whiskey into his glass.

  Kase looked past Paddie and stared at himself in the mirror over the bar as he tossed back the drink. He never drank this early, hardly ever imbibed at all. Liquor didn’t agree with him. But when he’d scoured the town looking for the only doctor available for miles and found him missing, he had needed a stiff one to calm his nerves. It was too early for any of the cowhands to be in. It was too early for him, too, but he needed it. The place was deserted except for him and Paddie.

  The last few weeks had been hell. He was scared to death for Rose, terrified she’d lose this baby. He wouldn’t even let himself think about losing Rose. Before he left the ranch today he’d forced himself to climb the slight knoll behind the house, to walk into the fenced area beneath a wind-twisted tree, and stare down at the tiny graves of his babies. He went down on his knees and called upon all the gods and prophets he could think of: Wakantankan, the god of his Sioux ancestors, Jehovah, Jesus, Allah, Buddha, Mohammed. He then opened his heart to the universe and swore that this child, this spark of hope, would live. His prayer was not a plea but an affirmation of hope. His child would live and Rose would live. He thanked the gods as if it were already true.

  The plan to house the doctor at the ranch had been his own. The long wait and building fear that Rose would have to deliver without an expert at her bedside worried him nearly to death. The first baby had come long before expected. It arrived in a rush of blood and was far too small to survive. He had delivered it himself and swore he’d never do it again.

  The others had been premature, too, one stillborn, the next lived less than three hours. She had perfect little hands and feet and features just like his. He had hidden his pain. It had seemed easier for Rose. She claimed God was testing her as she cut roses for the graves and visited the tiny mounds on the hill. She dealt with her grief openly and then lived life to the fullest.

  He couldn’t do the same. He was terrified. The doctor had arrived in time for the last two births, but barely. Now, with Rose already a week late, Kase was sick of getting up every morning and saddling a horse so that he could send a man off at a moment’s notice. This morning he had asked himself, why not have the doctor at their beck and call? He was ready to pay the man a year’s wages to get him to agree to stay on at the ranch until the baby came, but his trek into town had been futile.

  Before he started back, Kase had decided a drink was in order. A drink or two. He deserved it. Living with two temperamental women under his roof was getting him down. Annika was a bundle of nerves. And Richard Thexton? He wondered what his sister had ever seen in the man. He was everything Kase had left Boston to avoid. Straitlaced, dictated to by society’s rules, Thexton hadn’t so much as held his sister’s hand in front of him.

  Kase stared down at the empty glass and waved Paddie away when he started to pour another. It wouldn’t do to go home drunk. Rose would have his head.

  Hell, he thought. No wonder poor Annika had fallen for Buck Scott—if Richard was any indication of what s
he’d been exposed to, Scott was probably the first real man she’d ever met. Still, Kase didn’t know what he would do if he ever met Scott face-to-face. Not after what the man had done to his sister.

  Annika. Kase shook his head. Now there was a pickle.

  “Need something, marshal?”

  “Just thinking, Paddie.”

  If Annika was pregnant, he’d help her by doing everything he could to soften the blow for his mother and Caleb. God, but fate could be unkind—and they said lightning never struck twice.

  He picked up his hat off the bar and centered it on his head. He ran his fingers around the brim, pulled it low, and pushed away from the bar. “Thanks, Paddie. See you next time.” He flipped the man two bits.

  Paddie caught it in the air.

  BUSTED Heel wasn’t any different from any other small town Buck had drifted through in his youth. The false-fronted stores and saloons, the Chinese laundry, the livery, and the blacksmith were like all the rest. And like all the rest, Busted Heel was no doubt full of small-minded people set in their ways. That’s how it was with towns. Strangers were rarely welcome.

  He reined in the powerful bay and dismounted outside the saloon and pulled his rifle out of its holster. Standing in the dirt in the street, he pushed back the brim of his hat and stared up at the sign across the building: RUFFLED GARTER SALOON. With a quick twist, he wrapped the reins around the hitching post and stepped up onto the boardwalk. It was dark inside the saloon, but the doors were open. As he crossed the walk, his moccasined feet soundless against the wood planks, he hoped he wouldn’t have to be in town long. All he’d come for were directions to the Storm ranch. Hopefully the first man he asked would know.

  KASE turned in time to see a hulking form fill the doorway. Silhouetted from the outside, the man was impossible to identify. The sun backlit his stark blond hair until it looked like a wild nimbus around his head. A momentary flash of thought made Kase think of Thor, the Viking god of Thunder.

  “Anybody know how to find the Storm ranch?” Buck stepped inside and squinted, waiting for his vision to adjust to the dim light. The saloon smelled like stale cigar smoke, whiskey, and sweaty men—just like all the others he’d ever been in.