“We have to get back to town before Grandma starts to worry.” Yet Jake didn’t move.
Luke stood beside him. “Who lives out there?”
“Mostly miners, but I suppose farmers, ranchers, and townspeople, too.” The wagon turned a corner and disappeared from sight, but still Jake and Luke stared down the road.
Sammy pulled away from Hannah’s grasp and went in search of the caterpillar. She shifted so she could keep an eye on the younger boy yet watch the other two. It seemed they had both been mentally drawn away by the passing wagon.
“I heard there are big caves in the hills to the west,” Jake said.
“I want to see them,” Luke replied.
“It’s too far.” Jake led the horse and boy back to the road and waited for Hannah to fall in beside him. The caterpillar had disappeared, and the boys ran ahead in search of new discoveries. “I always wanted to see the caves,” Jake said then sighed. “Don’t suppose I ever will.”
“Why not? Don’t you deserve a holiday?”
“I’m the boss.”
“Exactly. If you want to go see caves, you put someone else in charge and go.”
He shook his head. “You’ve been boss of your business how long? A month? You’ll soon find that being the boss doesn’t mean you just sit around and give orders.”
She laughed at his assessment. “I could shout orders all day long, but there’s no one but Mort to hear me, and he does what suits him. But you have people who can help. I’ve seen some of your men. They appear very capable. So why don’t you go see the caves?”
Luke had joined them. “Uncle Jake, can I see the caves, too?”
Jake laughed. “If I go, I promise to take you.”
“Sammy, Sammy, we’re going to see the caves,” he screamed, racing toward his brother.
Jake caught Luke around the waist. “Hold up there, young man. I said if I go. Truth is, I don’t plan to go, so you’ll have to wait until someone else can take you.”
Luke scowled at his uncle as he squirmed out of his grasp and stomped down the road, leaving little clouds of dust in his wake.
They soon arrived in town and turned the boys over to their grandmother, who had recovered from her headache.
Halfway across the dining room, Jake caught up to Hannah. “Let me take you out for dinner.”
She ground to a halt. “Dinner?” They’d just spent the afternoon together and argued about the differences in how they viewed the world. They would always argue, because he would never accept her independence and she would accept nothing less. “Why?”
“You need a reason to consider an invitation from me?” He sounded shocked.
“I suppose you’re accustomed to people seeing your invitations as orders?”
“Now that you mention it…” He chuckled. “Of course not. But I thought you might enjoy a nice dinner at the Regal.”
She’d stolen glimpses through the window as she passed but knew she couldn’t afford such luxuries. “I’m rather a mess.”
“I am, too, but we could clean up.”
Still she hesitated. She couldn’t honorably accept an invitation just to get a free meal. Inside her, in a spot deep beneath her heart, something else urged her to say yes. Even though she knew they could never be more than friends, and not even good friends, not with his attitude toward her independence, something about this man appealed to her—his strength of character.
The very thing making it impossible to relax around him proved to be what she admired the most and the very reason she should refuse his invitation. But although she informed her brain of this fact, her mouth said, “I’d love to. Give me an hour to clean up.”
❧
Jake held the chair as Hannah took her place in the Regal’s dining room. She’d cleaned up really nice. She’d brushed her hair until it shone enough to make him think of a mink he’d once seen. He fought an urge to touch it to see if it were as smooth and soft as the animal’s fur.
She wore a snowy white blouse with a narrow pin at the neck with some sort of clear stone that caught the light and shafted it into a rainbow of colors. Could it be a diamond? He hardly thought so. A woman who owned diamonds wouldn’t be scrubbing smoke-damaged walls.
She nodded her thanks as he pushed the chair in for her. He took his place across from the table, hoping he’d cleaned up as nicely as she. He’d chosen a white shirt with a black string tie and his best black trousers. He’d even cleaned and polished his boots until they gleamed.
She leaned forward, smiling. “This is as nice as I imagined. All the white linen and sparkling white china.” She took her time looking around the room. “Maybe someday my dining room will be as nice.”
The waitress handed them menus, sparing him from speaking the words springing to his mind—that he doubted she would ever get her dining room usable, let alone fancied up like this one.
“Roast turkey. Sounds good.” He hoped they provided large servings. He was starving.
“Sounds good to me, too,” Hannah said.
The waitress filled the crystal water goblets and took their orders. Jake wished for something a little sturdier for his big hands but gingerly took the glass and sipped his water, unable to think of anything to say.
Hannah leaned forward. “See that old couple over there? He’s so sweet. Look at the way he tries to please her.” She watched them.
Jake kept his gaze on Hannah, wondering about her observation. “The old gentleman is taking care of his wife,” he said. “Seems contrary to your stand on independence.”
She slowly brought her gaze back to him. “Not at all. A person can be thoughtful and gentle and caring without robbing another of the right to make her own decisions. My father taught me that. There wasn’t a more thoughtful man.” She turned back to watching the older couple. “In fact, if he’d lived, I can imagine him and Mother like that.”
He waited for their meals to be placed in front of them and inhaled the rich aroma of turkey and dressing, mashed potatoes and gravy, and a mound of peas and carrots. “A dead father, idealized, makes for stiff competition for any man.” He knew he could never measure up to the standard her father set. Not that he wanted to. A woman like Hannah would be constantly challenging him. Life was complicated enough without asking for more trouble.
She concentrated on her meal for a moment. “I would never want anyone who didn’t make me feel special like my father did.”
Jake thought he saw sadness, regret even, in her eyes. “How did he do that?”
“He encouraged my independence. Told me I could do anything I set my mind to. At the same time, he—” She paused as if searching for the right word. “It’s just that I knew I was special in his eyes.” She turned back toward the older couple. “Just like that.”
Seemed she had expectations no man could ever meet. It irked him. “You’re the only child?”
“I am.”
He recalled what she’d said about her mother. Seems the mother liked being taken care of. Hannah was less like her mother and more like— Jake narrowed his eyes. More like a son. “Did your father regret not having a son?”
She smiled. “If he did, he never said so.”
To Jake, it seemed her father had tried to turn Hannah into the son he never had, despite the impossibility of disguising that she was a very pretty young woman. Those thoughts were best kept to himself.
She edged forward. “I thank God every day for allowing me to come west.”
He studied her. She was a woman made to be cared for. She shouldn’t be trying to clean up a burnt-out hotel that would challenge Zeke and half a dozen of his men. A man’s job was to take care of such a woman, but determination blazed from her eyes. He stifled the argument building in his chest and fought the idea he wanted to take care of Hannah. He knew she wouldn’t let him. Wouldn’t even entertain the notion.
He filled his mouth with dressing, letting the sage flavor sift through his senses.
“Don’t you find it awful
ly quiet?” Hannah whispered. “I seem to have gotten used to Sammy and Luke’s volume of conversation.”
He gave an expansive sigh. “It’s bliss. Their noise is always a shock to my hearing. I don’t know how Audrey and Harvey put up with it.” He paused. “Or why. Seems they could have just as much fun without bringing down the roof.”
“Your poor mother is about at the end of her patience with them.”
“I know. Thank you for helping her as much as you have. It’s a good thing we go home Monday. Even if Audrey isn’t back, at least Sarie is there to help. She’s our cook and also a good friend.”
Hannah put her hands beside her plate and took a deep breath before she looked at him again. “So you will be leaving soon?”
“Monday. As soon as the cattle are sold.” He wondered if she would miss him—them. He thought of his nephews’ noise. If she missed them, it would no doubt be mixed with gratitude for the peace and quiet. “I hope Mother doesn’t overtax herself in the meantime.”
“It will be awfully quiet with you all gone.” Her gaze held his. Went deep into his heart as if she sought something in him. Then her expression grew friendly but impersonal. “I’ll miss the company.”
His, too? Suddenly his brain flooded with wishes for things that could never be. Sharing more discoveries with this woman. Sharing laughter. Sharing enjoyment. Sharing each other’s loads.
He turned to watch a young couple take their places at a table near the door.
Hannah did not want anyone to share her load. Nor did he need any more responsibilities.
The waitress took away their plates, replacing them with generous portions of apple crisp drowned in thick, farm-fresh cream.
He inhaled the scent of apples and cinnamon and prepared to enjoy the tasty dish when he heard Hannah suck in air like someone had hit her. He turned his attention back to her.
Eyes wide and glistening with tears, she choked out a whisper. “The last time we dined at a restaurant as a family, my father ordered this dessert.”
He placed his hand over hers and squeezed. “I’m sorry. You must miss him a lot.”
She nodded. “I thought I was over this. After all, it’s been four years. But every once in a while something hits me and it’s like it happened yesterday.”
He wondered if she knew she’d turned her hand over into his palm. If they weren’t in public, he’d have pulled her into his arms and held her. Despite her protestations, she needed holding and protecting.
“I guess I’ve been thinking of him more than usual because I feel like I’m finally living up to his expectations for me.”
He couldn’t fight her dead father. And she didn’t seem to be able to let the man go.
She shuddered once, pulled her hand away, and then took a mouthful of the dessert and smiled. “It’s good.”
He had no reason to feel he’d been shoved out into the cold because she no longer reached for him. He watched the young couple, whispering together, flashing smiles as they spoke, and clasping hands across the table. He guessed they were fresh off the farm from some settlement to the west and thrilled by this new experience. He smiled at the way the girl’s eyes widened at each new thing—the fine goblet, the steaming plate of food, and the silver teapot the waitress served from.
Hannah noticed his attention. She, too, smiled. “I bet they’re newly wed,” she murmured, “with eyes for no one else.”
“They’re noticing all the new things around them, though.”
Jake pulled his gaze back to Hannah at the same time she looked toward him. His heart gave a peculiar leap he couldn’t explain as if trying to escape his chest, as if stretching toward Hannah. A fleeting thought raced through his numb mind. Will she ever consider giving up her freedom to become someone’s wife?
The waitress appeared at his side to ask if she could remove the dishes and inquire if they wanted anything more. He answered her without looking away from Hannah. “Are we done?” he asked but barely waited for her to answer before he shoved his chair back.
She nodded.
He hurried around to pull back her chair.
She paused to straighten her skirts.
They turned as the young man made a hoarse sound.
“I don’t have enough money,” he whispered to the girl across from him. “I must have left the rest in the hotel.”
Hannah looked with shock-filled eyes toward Jake.
He took her elbow, steered her toward the exit, and left her waiting at the door as he went to pay the bill. He gave some extra money and spoke quietly to the waitress. “This is to pay for the young couple over there. Tell them God’s best on their new life together.”
As he and Hannah made their way out to the dusk, he took Hannah’s hand and pulled it through his arm, telling himself he meant only to steady her in the darkening street. He felt rather pleased with himself when she didn’t protest. “Do you want to go with me to check on the herd?” he asked.
“I’d love to.”
They tramped along the sidewalk until they reached the end then crossed the street and made their way to the pens. Shorty had built a fire, filling the dusk with dancing shadows. Jake paused at the rail fence and breathed in the familiar, comforting smell of the animals. He expected Hannah to withdraw her hand.
Instead, she pulled him around to face her. “I saw what you did for that young couple. You were very kind.” Exerting gentle pressure on his forearm, she leaned forward, raised her face, and kissed him on the cheek.
He couldn’t believe it happened. Then a stampede of emotions raced through him. Emptiness finding its fullness, heart finding heart with a matching rhythm. He wanted nothing more than to hold this woman and keep her safe and protected. He slipped his arms around her shoulders and stared into her eyes, half hidden in the dim light. “Hannah,” he whispered. Slowly, hesitantly, giving her plenty of opportunity to refuse, Jake lowered his head and kissed her.
The warmth of her lips went straight to his heart, where a gate exploded open, revealing yearning for a love of his own and loneliness he’d denied over and over. He slammed shut the gate. Dropped his arms to his side. Letting himself get too fond of Hannah presented major complications. Stubborn, independent, and determined to run a derelict hotel. He backed away. Time to pull his head together, or was it his heart that needed corralling?
“I better see if Mother is coping with the boys.” He turned his steps toward the street and waited for Hannah to join him.
He’d been so busy with his own thoughts he hadn’t given her any study. Now he did. She avoided looking at him as she pulled her arms around herself as if she felt suddenly cold. He half raised an arm to pull her close and protect her from the elements, dropping it again without touching her. No reason to think she might have had the same jolting reaction to his kiss. She likely had other things on her mind.
They murmured mindless comments about the weather and the town as they returned to the hotel. They barely made it through the door before he bolted for the stairs, claiming an urgency to make sure things were under control in the rooms his mother shared with his two nephews.
Seven
Hannah’s first waking thought had been to leap from bed and hurry out to the lobby. Jake checked the herd every morning. Maybe he’d ask her to join him. She wanted to spend every minute of the day with him. Tomorrow he’d be gone—along with his mother and nephews. She would be alone again except for Mort, who really didn’t count as company.
She wanted to selfishly enjoy this, their last day. She had no illusions that once he got back to the ranch and his responsibilities he would give her another thought. They both knew they didn’t fit into each other’s worlds.
Her second thought kept her in bed staring at the white sheet blocking the early morning sun. It was Sunday—no reason to hurry out of bed. She wouldn’t be doing any work. And after her foolish reaction to Jake’s kiss last night, she’d be wise to avoid him.
She pressed her fingertips to her lips. Of
course, she couldn’t still feel his kiss. But she hadn’t forgotten how she’d felt. She shifted her hand to a spot over her heart. She massaged gently, trying to ease the tightness, knowing the tension wasn’t in her chest, nor in her muscles, but in her emotions. She felt safe in his arms. Felt a sudden urge to let go of all her burdens.
She blew out her lips. What burdens? The hotel was her ticket to independence and as such, a welcome challenge, not a burden.
She slipped from the bedcovers and prepared for church. If she took extra pains to look nice, it was only her self-respect as a businesswoman, not because she hoped Jake would notice.
She heard the boys yelling as they came down the stairs, heard Mrs. Sperling call to them, and then heard Jake’s deeper voice ordering them to be quiet.
Hannah’s heart broke into a breathless gallop, all her mental admonitions instantly forgotten. She had only to hear his voice for the tightness in her chest to return.
She remained in the kitchen, waiting for them to leave. She’d follow later, slip into the church unnoticed, and escape the same way. She couldn’t face Jake, try and make ordinary conversation, when she had to keep fighting herself.
She went to the mirror over the cupboard and stared at herself. “Hannah Williams, you know what you really want. It’s to open this hotel, become independent. Nothing less will ever satisfy you. No use in pretending you’d be happy being something you can’t be. You can never be what Jake wants—a woman to take care of.”
“What do I want from a man?” she asked her reflection. She recalled the words she’d spoken to Jake. A man who would treat her as her father had. Cherish her while allowing her independence. She pointed her finger at her reflection. “And that, Hannah Williams, is not Jake.”
“Hannah.” The sound of Jake calling from the dining room caused her to spin away from the mirror. “Are you coming to church?”
Her heart soared. He wanted her to accompany them. She grabbed her Bible and hurried out to join him. “I’m ready.”
Not until they were striding down the sidewalk toward the little white clapboard church at the north end of town did she realize she’d ignored her own advice to keep away from Jake.
Linda Ford Page 9