Saffron: A Sweet Western Historical Romance (Wild West Frontier Brides Book 5)

by Cindy Caldwell

“No, I haven’t. Is everything all right?”

  Suzanne sighed and rested her hand on Adam’s arm, her eyes brimming with tears. “I suppose all right. Nobody hurt—well, not too badly anyway. Maybe a bruised heart or two.”

  He forgot all about the pie and swung the door of the mercantile open, oblivious to the crash it made as it hit the wall, and making it to his horse in two long strides. His farrier tools flopped in the saddlebags as he urged the horse faster, his mind racing with images of what could have happened to Carol, to the boys. To Saffron.

  He jumped from the horse and tossed the reins around the post and took the porch stairs in one hop, flinging the front door open. His pulse beat in his ears as he threw his hat on the hook, frantically searching for any sign of movement.

  “Carol? Luke? Andy?” he shouted as his eyes flashed through the parlor and he poked his head into the empty kitchen.

  He held his breath as Andy poked his head out of Carol’s bedroom door, his eyes ringed with red and his head held low.

  Adam grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him close, holding his breath as he felt his young brother shudder and wrap his arms around his waist.

  “We’re so sorry, Adam. We didn’t know.”

  Adam lifted Andy’s chin and met his eyes, his heart in his throat. “Tell me what happened, Andy. I need to know right now.”

  He looked up as Saffron stepped into the hall, catching a glimpse of Carol on the bed before she closed the door behind her. He sighed in relief as she appeared to be all right.

  Saffron placed her hand gently on Andy’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’ll tell him, Andy. It was my fault, not yours.”

  Andy nodded and walked down the hall into the kitchen.

  “She’s all right, Adam. They’re all right.”

  Adam let out a whoosh of breath and fell back against the wall as the thundering in his ears subsided. He slid down the wall and crouched as he wiped his forehead and took in another breath, waiting for his heart to slow.

  He stood and looked in Saffron’s eyes as she reached for his hand. She pulled him toward the parlor, gesturing for him to sit as she moved to the settee. As he sat and waited, she folded her hands in her lap and hung her head.

  “Saffron, you have to tell me what happened. I imagined all sorts of things after I heard someone had been hurt. I came as fast as I could, not knowing what to expect...”

  Saffron looked up at him, her deep brown eyes moist. “Adam, I—Carol fell and—well, she’s all right, but it was quite a fright. She’s resting.”

  Adam leaned his elbows on his knees and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve caught her trying to stand more times than I’d like to. I keep telling her not to do it, that it’s not safe. I’ll have to talk to her again, I guess.”

  They looked up as Luke entered the room and Adam squinted at his hung head as well. He looked from Luke to Saffron, who was now studying her hands in her lap.

  “Adam, it wasn’t that. She didn’t fall on her own.”

  Adam stood and crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll tell him. It was really my fault,” Luke said as he crossed the room and sat down beside Saffron.

  “No, I’ll tell him,” Saffron said. “I’m the one who agreed.”

  Adam steadied himself with his hand on the mantle. “Well, somebody better tell me. And soon.”

  Saffron stood and Adam’s eyes narrowed as she tugged at a thread on her sleeve.

  “Do you remember Carol asking if she could go to the circus?” she said slowly as she looked up and met Adam’s eyes.

  “Yes. I saw it today as I rode past. And I remember that I said no.”

  “Yes. About that—” Saffron started.

  “It wasn’t her fault, Adam,” Luke said as he stood. He walked over to Saffron and shoved his hands in his pockets. “It was ours. Mine and Andy’s. Carol was so sad and wanted to go to the circus so badly that we asked Saffron if she’d take us. We didn’t think we should take Carol alone, and—”

  Adam’s head spun as he looked down at the offenders. The kitchen door swung open and they all looked at Andy, his blue eyes flying open wide when he saw them all looking at him. He spun on his heel and headed back toward the kitchen.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Adam crossed the room in two long strides, grabbing the back of Andy’s collar. “You’ll stay right here until I hear the whole story.”

  Adam plopped Andy down in the chair next to settee Saffron and Luke had sat back down on. He sat on the chair opposite them and leaned back, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes scanning the three of them.

  Saffron looked up and laid a hand on each boys’ knee. “I’ll tell him, boys. It truly was my fault as I am an adult and I agreed.”

  “Well, at least that’s something.” Adam squinted at Saffron. “What in tarnation happened? What did you do?”

  Saffron cleared her throat. “As Luke said, Carol was quite distraught about not being allowed to go to the circus. The boys came to me and asked if I’d escort them.”

  “And you said yes?” Adam said, not believing his ears.

  Saffron twisted her hands together. “Adam, my entire family was going, the children included. I let the doctor know that I’d like to borrow the chair with wheels and he agreed. We were going for a short time, and I thought—”

  “I had good reason for that. Clearly, I was right,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

  “It shouldn’t have happened at all,” Andy cut in. “If it hadn’t been for that horrible old lady, it would have—”

  Saffron placed her hand on his arm to shush him and Andy looked at the floor.

  Adam raised his eyebrows. “Horrible old lady?”

  “It wasn’t completely her fault, but do you remember the Widow Samson? The woman we met at the Occidental with her friend, peering in the window?”

  Adam did remember, especially that the woman was a bit difficult. But what did that have to do with Carol getting hurt?

  “You wouldn’t have believed it, Adam. She was so rude to Carol. If I could have, I would have punched her right in the—”

  Adam stood and held his hands up at the threesome. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. We don’t talk like that around this house. Do I need to show you where the soap is?”

  Luke lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry, Adam. It was just so horrible. You would have wanted to, too.”

  Adam could barely contain his anger as Saffron relayed the horrid tale—his anger at the boys, his anger at the Widow Samson but most of all, his disappointment in Saffron. How could she put them all at risk like that? He’d watched her with people, knew she was kind and understanding, but this? He’d never expected something like this, especially from her.

  Chapter 30

  On the ride home from Carol’s house, Saffron was sure her heart would break. Adam had asked her into the kitchen and sent the boys outside. Carol was still resting, and Saffron did her best to hide her sorrow while she listened.

  Adam hadn’t even tried to hide his disappointment in Saffron and had explained several times how dangerous it had been, focusing on what could have happened. She could have been killed, he’d said, and her cheeks had flamed with shame.

  The more she meandered home, though, her thoughts turned to Carol. Had she really ever been in any true danger? It was an unfortunate accident, and she’d love to have had the opportunity to have a word with the Widow Samson about her horrid behavior, but she’d never intended for Carol to get hurt, and would never knowingly put her in that kind of position. Never.

  Carol was a grown woman—a young one like herself, granted—but just because she couldn’t walk didn’t mean she shouldn’t be able to go out, see the world, have experiences. And the more Saffron thought about it, the more her cheeks burned, but now for a different reason. Carol should be allowed to have a life full of friends and people and adventures. Just like anyone else.

  It was honorable that he was concerned for her, looked
after her and the boys, but he was so heavy-handed that someone, sometime would object. And it was beginning with her. She could count on one hand the times in her life when she’d been angry, truly angry, and this one was a doozy.

  By the time she pulled into the stable at Archer Ranch, she couldn’t ignore the tightness in her chest. She unhitched the buggy and secured the horses, marching up the drive and past her mother’s garden. She paused for a moment—certainly her mother wouldn’t have given up and would have championed Carol, wanting her to see the world.

  With an even more firm resolve, she untied her bonnet and yanked it off her head, throwing the tall wooden doors open and stepping inside—stopping short as she ran straight into the chest of her father.

  “Oh. Hello, Papa,” she said as she shook her braids out and hung her bonnet on the hook by the door.

  “Hello, my dear.” Her father stood in the foyer, seemingly with no intention of moving as he rocked from the heels to the toes of his boots. “I hear you had an interesting time at the circus.”

  She turned quickly to look at him. How—who—oh, it must have been Maria and Sage who’d told him what happened. She let out a sigh, hoping that her heartbeat would slow before she had to explain.

  He raised one eyebrow as his eyes met hers and he gestured for her to follow him into his library. He sat in the big, burgundy leather chair behind his desk and she sat opposite him, in the chair she’d sat in ever since she was a little girl and had gotten a talking-to.

  He leaned back in his chair and it creaked as he steepled his fingers. He peered at her over them and waited.

  “What exactly did you hear?” she asked him as she tugged at her sleeve.

  “That you’d taken Carol and her brothers to the circus.”

  “Oh, Papa, you should have seen how excited they were! Carol was in an accident, you know, and can’t walk, and she hadn’t been anywhere exciting for ages. She asked me to take her and I just couldn’t refuse.”

  “I see you’ve become quite close with the girl.”

  “Yes, yes. She’s very dear, and Adam won’t let her out of the house much, and— “

  Her father leaned forward, his elbows on his desk and held his hands up. “Stop for a moment. When they were here for Sunday dinner, I didn’t get the impression that she wasn’t able to go anywhere.”

  Saffron nodded and smiled. “He is beginning to allow her to go some places, it seems, as when they came here, but he still worries about her a great deal.”

  Her father smiled and winked at her. “It was very nice that he brought her here, but there may have been another reason for that. And this is the same man you were with at the Occidental.”

  She looked down at her hands. “Yes, Papa, it is. I’m sorry I hadn’t mentioned that before.”

  “Mentioned what? That he’s courting you?”

  Saffron’s cheeks flamed and her eyes flew open wide. “No, Papa, He’s doing no such thing. It—we—no, we’re not courting.”

  “All right, then,” he said with a brow raised and a twinkle in his eye. “You’re escorting Carol, his sister. Keeping her company.”

  “Yes, and she so wanted to go to the circus. Everything would have been fine if it hadn’t been for the Widow Samson.”

  Her father coughed. “That infernal woman?” His ears reddened and he caught himself. “What did she have to do with the accident?”

  Saffron explained, and by the end of her diatribe, her father nodded. “Someday that woman will get an earful—and not only from me. And if what you say is true, likely sooner rather than later.”

  “Thank you, Papa, but I have a bigger problem. Adam didn’t exactly give Carol permission to go.”

  He raised his eyebrows at his daughter. “No?”

  “No. In fact, he was quite upset. But he just doesn’t understand how important it is to Carol, for her to be able to feel like everyone else, do what other people do. She is very dear to me, and she’s poured her heart out in tears, wanting to be treated just the same as everyone else. It’s heart-breaking. So I was just trying to help.”

  “He was upset, was he?”

  “Furious, really,” Saffron said, and tears sprung as she remembered his face as he told her to go and never come back. “He told me I was no longer welcome at their house, and that I couldn’t be friends with Carol. How could he, Papa?”

  She swiped at her tears with the back of her hand, angry with herself for crying. She was supposed to be the strong one. She’d held the hands of her sisters when their mother died. She was supposed to have broader shoulders.

  Her father stood and circled around the desk, sitting in the chair beside her. He pulled a white linen handkerchief from his vest pocket and gently dabbed at her tears. He took a deep breath and reached for her hand and squeezed it.

  “My darling Saffron, how much like your mother you are. I see her in your smile, hear her in your voice when you speak with kindness to everyone you meet. Your heart is big, and you’ve helped more people than I can count. Just like your mother. I’m very, very proud of you.”

  Saffron pulled her father’s hand to her cheek and closed her eyes. “Thank you, Papa. That means the world to me.”

  He patted her cheek and stood. “I would expect nothing less from you than to stand up for Carol, to try to help.”

  Saffron smiled and looked up at her father. She knew he’d understand.

  “However, do you not think that maybe you could be wrong here? Adam is responsible for his siblings—one who needs extra help, to boot—and he’s very young. Either way, it’s his decision to make, not yours.”

  “Carol has a right to make her own decisions, doesn’t she? You’ve always encouraged us to do so, Papa.”

  Her father laughed a hearty laugh. “My girl, between your mother and the six of you, I hadn’t a chance to do anything else. You were all in cahoots, and I always found out about things after the fact. And apparently, that hasn’t changed.”

  Saffron’s heart warmed at her father’s laugh, and she thought of Adam, and how he’d felt. Likely much as her father would if he were frightened for one of them, and trying to protect them.

  “Saffron, if you care for him at all, and I think maybe you do, you should do the right thing. You meddled where you shouldn’t, and disharmony in a family is never good.”

  She sighed and stood. “Thank you, Papa.” Did she care for Adam? She knew that although she was exasperated with him now, when she was around him she felt comforted, cared for and safe. Just as he wanted Carol to feel. “I’ll apologize tomorrow.”

  Chapter 31

  Adam stood as Saffron approached the house. It was her regular day to be with Carol, and he’d had to wrestle with some difficult decisions—ones which had given him three sleepless nights in a row now.

  He’d thought about Carol, the beautiful young woman that she was. He’d thought of his parents, and the horrible accident that changed their lives and changed the course of all their children’s. He’d broken out in sweats, night after night as he tried to imagine Carol out on her own, at the circus, on the ground, unconscious. He tried very hard to envision her also out and about, happy and smiling. But it always came back to one thing—he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t take the risk that something worse might happen to her, and he’d have broken his promise to his father—and to himself.

  He’d finally made up his mind, and now it was time. No matter how much he enjoyed having Saffron at the house—and no matter how much Carol loved her—this just had to end. He’d lain awake too many nights, worrying about Carol being out even just in the wagon, wondering what could have happened to her—to them, really—and he needed to put an end to it.

  The thought of not seeing Saffron, laughing over a ball of dough, sitting on the porch with Carol, making lemonade, reading to them of an evening gave him a different kind of emptiness but he folded his arms over his chest against his own feelings. He’d made a promise and he meant to keep it.

  He sat o
n the porch swing as she climbed the stairs, and she looked up at him from under her long, brown eyelashes. She removed her bonnet and the aroma of lavender washed over him as she sat beside him, her hands folded in her lap. She sat back against the swing, turning her face toward the dappled sunlight of the lone shade tree in the front of the house.

  “Saffron, we need to talk about what happened with Carol.”

  She sighed, her eyes downcast. “I know. I’m terribly sorry, Adam. It was wrong of me to disregard your wishes.”

  Disregard his wishes? Of course she should have respected his decision not to take her. But couldn’t she see the risk she’d taken with Carol?

  He stood and paced, his boots thudding against the long planks of the porch. “Saffron, she could have died. You know that, don’t you?”

  She looked up at him quickly, her puzzled expression quickening his heartbeat. “Adam, it was a horrible accident, but my family was there and she was in good hands. If it hadn’t been for the Widow Samson—”

  He stopped in his tracks and rested his hands on his hips. “It wasn’t just the Widow Samson, Saffron. Many things could have happened. There were tigers there, and monkeys.”

  He narrowed his eyes as she smiled.

  “Monkeys? The monkeys weren’t interested at all in us. We had no bananas.”

  “Please don’t make light of it. You know what I’m referring to. Heck, even the clown could have scared her.”

  Saffron stood and set her bonnet on the bench. “Adam, I am truly sorry that I disrespected your wishes. That was wrong of me. But Carol is a grown woman. She got a bump on her head, but I’d venture to guess if you asked her if it was worth it, she’d say yes. You should have seen the camel. It was huge, bigger than two men, and she wanted to see it. I shouldn’t have done that against your wishes, Adam, but they were so sad. So insistent. I never imagined that something like that could happen.”

  “And that’s the problem, Saffron. You didn’t think. You didn’t imagine. You couldn’t imagine, because you’ve never been in a situation where you’re responsible for other lives beside your own.”