by Jodi Thomas
A little before twilight they watched the schoolteacher walk down the street on her way home from church. She didn’t so much as glance in their direction. Not once.
“You sure you kissed her, Abe?”
Abe didn’t bother to answer. He could almost taste her. The need to hold her again ached all the way through his body. She’d come to him twice, and he guessed she’d come again but not tonight.
Killian emptied his flask and wandered off, saying something about going back to his hotel to sleep. The judge was still a long way from being drunk, but Abe had a feeling he’d get there by midnight.
Abe went inside and collected his tools and the extra key he kept to the schoolhouse.
Slowly, he made his way across the street to put up the blackboard. This would be the only way he’d feel near her tonight.
As he worked, the setting sun weakened, and finally he stopped to light the lamp. He found a tin of matches high on a shelf behind the teacher’s desk. He smiled. Smart, he thought. Out of reach of any children.
As he pulled the tin down, a polished wooden carton about the size of a cigar box tumbled with the matches to the floor. He picked them both up and lit the lamp, then looked inside the box to see what might be so dangerous that she kept it tucked away on the top shelf. He found a few pages of inexpensive stationery and several cards postmarked from Maryland, along with a thin little notebook.
Abe knew he shouldn’t, but he turned the first page and scanned down a list of things she planned for the year. Work harder with Tim on his penmanship. Try to get school board to allot more money for supplies. Save money for a visit home by next summer.
Then there was her “never” list for the year. Never sleep before the grading is done. Never eat the boardinghouse fish. Never lose my temper at Mr. Henderson.
Abe smiled and read on, but he wasn’t mentioned again.
When he turned the page, he saw the “dream” list for the New Year: Be more open to tasting life. Have an adventure. Allow someone else to make decisions now and then. Don’t always have to be in control.
He stared at the page for a while, knowing that she couldn’t have written them long ago. Maybe only a day or two before he’d kissed her.
He flipped through the stationery to where she’d written the beginning of a letter to her mother.
Dear Mom, she’d started. I promise I’ll try to make it home this year. I miss you terribly. I got your last letter, and you’re right—I fear I will never marry, but the way I see it there are worse things. I see many women unhappy, old before their time with work and too many mouths to feed. I have a mission here and do good work with the children. That is enough.
I do wonder what it would be like to be cherished. To be held. To be treated as though I were not plain and ordinary.
Now don’t worry, I haven’t gone mad. Like I promised, I still keep to myself and never speak to a man unless absolutely necessary.
She stopped there, as if distracted, and never returned to the letter. Maybe she wrote her Christmas note in the boardinghouse or maybe she just had no more to write.
Abe moved his fingers over the writing. How could she think she was plain? He now knew why she’d let him kiss her. Why she’d come back to the storage room again. It hadn’t been about him at all. She’d only wanted a taste of life, nothing more.
As he closed the box and placed it back on the shelf, he made himself a promise. If she returned to him, he’d do all he could to make her feel cherished, if only for a blink in her controlled life. If there was never to be a “them,” he’d make their time together about her. If there would never be a future together, at least they’d have a memory to share.
Chapter 8
Main Street
The evening air drifted over Rose like a thin blanket of damp cotton as she opened the door to the long balcony that ran in a wide U-shape along all the second-floor rooms. The day had been endless and frustrating because she never found one moment to be alone with Victoria. The bride seemed far more worried that her new wardrobe wasn’t altered than that the bridegroom hadn’t bothered to show up. In fact, Tori and her father rarely mentioned him. August seemed just a detail of the wedding, no more important than the cake knife or the altar flowers.
Rose leaned against the doorframe and stared out into the shadows. She could hear Hallie snoring away in the maid’s quarters just beyond her bedroom. The undercover maid had spent the evening with Betty Ann helping with the alterations, but for all her effort she learned only one fact. Victoria had cried herself to sleep every night since she agreed to marry August Meyers.
The thought occurred to Rose that maybe August was blackmailing her or somehow forcing her into the marriage, but that made no sense. The major was a powerful man. August, on a newspaperman’s salary, couldn’t even keep Victoria in shoes. Also, even if August were a bully, he wasn’t here now to force Victoria to do anything. He’d apparently jumped trains and headed to Dallas to cover some big trial. A man in love wouldn’t be thinking about work a few days before his wedding.
Rose thought of the line of men who’d tried to court her over the years. Some were just looking for a wife, any wife. A few were far more interested in a slice of her family ranch than in her, and three swore they’d fallen hopelessly in love with her. Two of those she’d made the mistake of accepting an engagement ring from, hoping that she’d either grow to feel the same way or that they’d lose interest. In the end, she’d broken both engagements long before the date was set. She didn’t know why, but they just weren’t right.
The curtain moved as Duncan walked in from the balcony. “About time you opened the door. I thought I might freeze solid out there.” He was dressed in a suit tonight and what looked like a new gray Stetson. Clean-shaven and washed he made a handsome ranger.
But Rose frowned at her cousin. “Too bad I didn’t know you were there. I would have gone to bed early and forgotten about needing fresh air. Besides, you don’t feel the cold like most folks do. Ever occur to you that one of your parents might have been cold-blooded? Maybe a lizard or a frog.” She brushed the frost from his windblown hair.
“Or alligator.” He grinned, shaking his head enough for bits of cold rain to sprinkle her face. “Any chance you’ll order room service? I didn’t want to come through the front door. Right now I’d just as soon make sure no one knows where I am.”
Rose didn’t ask why. In truth, from the time he was five no one usually knew where he was. “I told them an hour ago to deliver a late snack for two.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You couldn’t have known I was coming.”
“I didn’t. It’s for my maid and me. The major insisted we all go to dinner tonight. My dress was laced so tightly I couldn’t eat more than two bites. Hallie said that was the style and promised we’d eat later. Only she dozed off on me before the food arrived.”
“Since when did you ever have a maid, Rose?” He looked her over from nose to toes. “There’s nothing wrong with your body like it is. Why would you want to lace up any part of it?”
She opened her mouth to answer, but a tap on the door forced him back out on the balcony while the tray was delivered. Then he joined her and began eating both plates of food. Rose drank her hot chocolate and watched.
“Want to tell me why you’re here? And don’t bother saying it’s to watch over me. You’ve got Stitch and probably half the hotel staff doing that.”
“I came over to tell you that the trial will drag on through Monday at least. I figured it would only take a day or two to find the Tanner brothers guilty, but the press is going crazy, so the lawyers are talking every murder and robbery out detail by horrible detail so the reporters can get it all. Everyone knows the Tanners are guilty, but the longer it lasts, the more papers sell.”
“So? Why are you here, Duncan? It’s a long ride from here to Dallas and back. If you’re working a twelve-hour shift guarding, you’re losing almost half the downtime traveling.”
He set his
fork aside and seemed to be picking his words carefully. “Rose, the longer this thing goes on, the greater the chance is that one guard will look away at the wrong time or take a bribe, and two of the worst outlaws I’ve ever come across will break free. A few of us believe the Tanners are working for someone. If they are, he might find a way to break them free.”
“You don’t think they’d come here?” She grinned. “As far as I know they’re not on the guest list for the wedding.”
He didn’t laugh. “I don’t think they’d come here, but I’d feel better if you were back at Whispering Mountain.”
“Why?” She leaned closer. “The truth, Duncan. Don’t you dare lie to me.”
“All right. If they got free, and that’s a big if, they might have it in their heads to kill me or any McMurray they could find. I’m top on their list to murder right now and you’re second.”
“I’m not surprised you are.” She shook her head. “But me? You think they might want to kill me? That’s ridiculous. I don’t even know the men and don’t plan to.”
Duncan wanted to take back his words, but it was too late. He’d come to check on her, not frighten poor timid Rose half to death. But he could never lie to her, never fool her. She was smart and what he was telling her didn’t make sense.
He stood, pacing the little room. “Just be careful. That’s all I’m asking.” Dropping into the nearest chair, he added as if to himself, “Not that you would ever be anything but careful, Rose. In a family of wild reckless people, you’re the only one who always prepares, always takes precautions. You’re the only McMurray no one ever has to worry about, so heaven knows why I’m worried about you now.”
Rose straightened her dressing gown, playing with the material as if she could brush her misgivings away. “It’s not like I didn’t already have enough to worry about with Tori and her August. I haven’t told you that I have my suspicions that they don’t love each other. Forget that now. Now I have to worry about outlaws murdering me.”
She looked up, hoping he’d reassure her.
Duncan didn’t seem to be listening. He stared out the balcony window at two figures moving in the shadows.
For a second, Rose felt her heart stop beating, then she realized Duncan wasn’t reaching for his gun. If danger lay just beyond the glass, he would have the Colt ready to fire.
“I don’t think you have to worry about your friend being in love,” he said, his words so low they barely reached her. “Not from the way someone is kissing what looks to me like Miss Victoria Chamberlain right now.”
“Really?” Rose rushed to the window. A couple stood in the far corner of the long balcony, locked in one another’s arms. Branches from the trees and vines that surrounded the garden crossed over them as if protecting them inside their own world. His black hat blocked both their faces, but she had little doubt what they were doing. There was no mistaking Victoria’s long midnight cape that she’d worn to dinner.
Rose leaned against Duncan’s chair, knowing she shouldn’t spy but unable to look away from the beauty of two lovers holding one another. Both bodies seemed like porcelain figures swaying to music she couldn’t quite hear.
“Isn’t it beautiful?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Duncan answered honestly. “Every woman I love turns me down or joins the nunnery.”
“I wouldn’t know either. I probably never will. I’m beginning to believe there is no man for me born in this lifetime.” She frowned at Duncan. “It could happen.”
Duncan tugged her to the arm of his chair, the couple outside holding no interest to him. “Well, it’s not from my lack of trying. I’ve sent you half the eligible men in the state and you bounce them all back. I swear, Rose, couldn’t you pick one so my dad and uncles will stop asking me if I know anyone right for sweet, dear little Rose?” He played with her braid as he’d done for as long as she remembered.
“I don’t bounce them back. They just all leave. Besides, I don’t want you picking a husband for me.” She patted his arm as if he were a spoiled child. “You can’t even pick your clothes, Duncan. Look at you. No one in the state would guess you’re a lawyer. I’d be willing to bet none of your clothes have ever seen a pressing and your boots are two winters muddy. Most of the time you look like you’ve been trailing cattle for a hundred miles. Don’t you think the rangers should have a dress code?”
“We do. We have to wear them.”
“Seriously, you could use a few more . . .”
“Forget my clothes, Rose. I’m talking about you.” He put his arm around her to steady her on the chair arm. “You make the men I send leave, Rose. You know what they all say. They say you’re too perfect. Couldn’t you burn a few meals or get a little dirt on the hem of your skirt or cuss now and then? Men don’t know how to handle perfect women. They can’t measure up.”
He was on a roll and she knew there would be no stopping him. One of their favorite pastimes seemed to be remaking each other and it was his turn.
“Maybe you could take up smoking—men hate women who smoke cigars—or drinking, only it would have to be hard liquor.” He brushed her hair braid with his hand. “Cut your hair lopsided, or maybe some makeup could ugly you up a little. Start thinking only about yourself, maybe even talk in the third person like you’re the queen of something.”
“Stop it.” She shoved him and would have fallen off the chair arm if he hadn’t held her safe. “You’re making me sound like Victoria.”
“You’re nothing like her. She’s like a glass statue. I swear I could feel a norther coming in when I danced with her that once. You’re flesh and blood. You’re a good woman, Rose. So good you make a man see his own imperfections.”
“She’s not much of a statue tonight,” Rose said as she looked back to the window. “She looked very warm-blooded in the arms of that man in the shadows. I guess we can stop worrying about her fiancé making it to the wedding on time if he made it in to kiss her tonight.”
The couple had vanished. Probably disappearing into one of the rooms or down the wrought-iron stairs to the garden. The memory of them seemed to linger in the shadows of branches brushing the railing.
Duncan stood and tugged her to the opening. “I like the silence of this place. We’re in the middle of town, but here, walled in by the hotel, the garden seems magical.”
“I know what you mean.” She’d felt it too. “I see why people stay here. In this place it’s easy to believe the world is beautiful and you can be or do anything you want to.”
“You can, Rose. Just stop being afraid to try. Take a chance. Go wild.” He smiled. “Who knows—for you that would probably be eating dessert first.”
“I couldn’t . . .”
“You could.”
When he winked, Rose pushed him out the open door afraid of what he might suggest next.
Duncan stumbled acting as if she’d hit him a blow and not a tap. Before he could recover, he collided with a tall thin man passing along the balcony walkway.
Rose squealed with laughter when she recognized Killian O’Toole.
“Attacking another unsuspecting stranger?” Killian said calmly as if just stating a fact.
Rose fought down a giggle. “No, Judge O’Toole, this time I was attacking my cousin and I promise you he deserved it. Please step out of the night and meet him.”
Duncan stepped back inside, straightened, and offered his hand to the man. “We’ve never met, Judge, but I’ve heard of you. My father says the West could use more men as dedicated as you.”
“Ranger Duncan McMurray.” Killian accepted his hand and set his black hat on the back of the nearest chair. “You’re a legend and I’m told you brought the Tanner boys in. Fascinating. I’ll bet the trial is interesting.”
As the two men talked of the trial going on in Dallas, Rose felt invisible. Out of habit, she began to tidy the sitting room. When she opened the door to the hallway to set the tray out, Major Chamberlain stood with his hand up preparing to knock.
“Major, I’m afraid you have the wrong room. Victoria is next door.”
“She’s not in her room,” he huffed like the big bad wolf. “I was told she was seen on the balcony with a man.”
Rose started to agree but hesitated. The major seemed far too upset to be simply checking on his daughter.
The father of the bride looked past Rose to the two men standing by the balcony windows. “Did either of you see my daughter?” He moved into the room waving Rose aside as if she were no more than a doorman.
Both men stepped out onto the balcony as though they planned to help the major in his quest.
“I was told she was seen out here with a man.” The major stormed back and forth as if in front of his men. “When I ran into the garden, I saw a couple embracing, but they seem to have vanished.”
Rose joined them. Even in the shadows she didn’t miss the look that passed between Duncan and Killian O’Toole.
The major seemed to be building steam. “She’d better not be . . .”
“Wait a minute, sir, did the couple look something like this?” Duncan grabbed the black hat from the back of the chair and tugged Rose a few feet into the night.
Before she could react, he lifted the hat to cover their faces, tugged her against him, and lowered his mouth to hers for a light kiss.
The major swore. “They looked exactly like that, Ranger McMurray. You have my apology for interrupting you. Your cousin, Rose, is obviously not held to the same standards as my daughter.”
Rose didn’t know which one of the men to fire at first. Duncan had no right to kiss her on the lips. A kiss on the cheek or forehead would have been proper but not a real kiss. And . . . the major had just insulted her.
Duncan, the idiot, just smiled at her and said, “It was just a friendly kiss. Though we both took the name McMurray, we’re not related by blood. I guess you might say we’re just kissing cousins.”
If Killian O’Toole hadn’t decided to come alive and step between them, she might have killed Duncan.