Of Peaks and Prairies (Paradise Valley Book 1)

by Vivi Holt

They’d camped just outside Bozeman two nights previous and he, Cookie and Coop had ridden to town with the wagons to stock up on most of the supplies they’d need to make it through the winter in Paradise Valley. He’d placed orders with various retailers, including the mercantile and the produce store – he’d have to collect the rest of the supplies the next time he came to town. They couldn’t carry all of it in the two wagons, and he had a lot of mouths to feed and bodies to clothe.

  Most of the cowboys were ill-prepared for a Montana winter, so he’d given them, Genevieve and Sarah an advance on their wage to purchase woolen shirts and coats and dresses, fur caps, mufflers, mittens and socks, long underwear and leather boots. Everyone had everything they needed to brave the coming snow and ice, and Thomas felt a lot better because of it.

  But now, it looked as though the snow would arrive before they reached their destination. He felt his pulse quicken as he considered the risks to the herd and crew. If it was a blizzard, they were in for a wagon-load of trouble. But if it was just a sprinkle, they’d manage. He prayed it wouldn’t last.

  Genevieve rode ahead of him on Bess. She’d taken to riding the mare more often as their journey progressed, and she looked much more comfortable now than she had at first. He felt pride stir in him as he watched her canter along beside the chuck wagon and wave her arm at a runaway steer, guiding it back to the group. Ranching may turn out to suit her after all.

  The thought surprised him. He’d almost given up pursuing the idea that he and Genevieve might have a future together. Since their kiss in the rain, they’d barely spoken a word to each other. He’d just started telling her about Paradise Valley and his dreams for the future when they’d come under attack. Since then, it was as though she’d been in hiding. Genevieve and Sarah whispered together, no doubt about Sarah’s secret past that they’d all learned about during the fray, but he hadn’t had a chance to talk to Genevieve yet.

  And even if he had, he wasn’t sure what he’d say to her. Every day that passed, the certainty inside him grew stronger – they didn’t have a future together. She was married and neither one of them was likely to settle for anything less than wedded bliss. Even if she were willing, which he was sure she wouldn’t be, he would never put her in that situation. To live with a man she loved but wasn’t married to, would destroy her reputation, her friendships, and eventually her love for him would turn to bitterness.

  He’d seen it all before when his uncle had taken a mistress. His wife had left him to return to New York – she couldn’t stomach the Ohio ranch lifestyle. So he was alone but still married, and she refused to agree to a divorce, since she believed it would ruin her own reputation among New York society. He’d agreed to remain married for her sake, out of a sense of loyalty to the woman who’d vowed to honor and cherish him for all of his days

  So when he fell in love with a girl from the local saloon, he’d made a choice, one that cost them dearly and in the end destroyed their love. Thomas was just a boy at the time, but he remembered the way his parents and all of the neighbors ostracized his uncle and the woman he’d chosen to live with. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, do that to Genevieve. She deserved so much more from life and from him. If all he ever did was admire her, love her, from afar, then he could live with that. He couldn’t live with being the cause of her destruction.

  The Yellowstone River ran sluggish and cold beside them, meandering through the valley that was clothed in dull gray. It would be winter soon, and they were late getting here, but they were close. He scanned the horizon, looking for a recognizable sign that they had reached his property line.

  There it was – a rocky outcropping that looked like a cougar about to pounce, overlooking the river. His heart leaped with excitement in his chest and he stood in the stirrups to survey the land. It was his. He felt a surge of pride and joy flood through his inner being and he cried out, a loud whooping sound that made all heads turn to look at him in surprise and scattered the steers trotting close by. “We’re here!” he cried, lifting his Stetson from his head and waving it in a wide arc above him. “This is my land! Everything south of here, one thousand acres of it – it’s home! We made it! Woo-hoo!”

  His cry was met with an echo of whooping and catcalling all down the valley, as the men passed the news from one to the other with hand signals. Genevieve pulled Bess to a halt and her eyes met his. Her face was full of happiness and her mouth fell open in a wide grin. She lifted one hand above her, threw her head back, her dark curls cascading down her back, and let out a loud whoop as she joined in the chorus. Thomas laughed out loud and trotted Alto toward her to stand beside Bess.

  “Finally – we’re here,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “So where is this famous hilltop – the one where you’re planning on building the ranch house?”

  “Just around the bend – you’ll see it in a few minutes. I hope you’ll love it as much as I do.”

  She blushed and lifted a hand to push a few strands of hair from her face. He couldn’t believe how well she looked now, almost as though she were a different woman to the one he’d first laid eyes on in Fort Worth. Her cheeks were plump and pink, her hair was shiny and her figure was all curves. He swallowed hard as his eyes traveled down the length of her, taking in all of her beauty. “Ride with me?” he asked, lifting his hand toward her.

  She nodded and grasped his hand for a moment, a light squeeze. Then the two of them took off across the plain toward the bend in the river. Before long, they’d streaked ahead of the rest of the herd and were alone under the thunderous Montana sky.

  ***

  Genevieve lifted her face toward the mountains, letting the frigid air caress her face and blow her hair out behind her as she rode. The valley truly was as breathtaking as Thomas had described it. She couldn’t take it all in at once: the mountain peaks, the lazy river, the evergreens and the rolling plains. A bubble of laughter burst out from deep within and she smiled across at Thomas, who was grinning at her.

  He led her up a grassy hill to a flat table-top that overlooked the valley. The outlook was amazing and backed onto the Bighorn Range. “This is it,” he said, pulling Alto to a stop and spreading his arms wide. “What do you think?”

  “It’s … it’s stunning. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

  “I have,” he said. His eyes locked on hers and he drew close. His movements were slow, deliberate, his eyes full of passion and hunger. He reached out his hands and cradled her face gently in his palms. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. You are. Only you. I know I shouldn’t say it, I know I shouldn’t think it. But I can’t help it.”

  “No,” she whispered, pushing against his hands.

  He didn’t let her go. Instead he stood up in the stirrups and leaned closer still, his eyes never leaving hers. He kissed her on the cheek, and his lips traveled down to her neck, nibbling, savoring, tasting her as he went.

  She tilted her head to the side and a quiet moan escaped her lips. “Stop. Thomas, we can’t.”

  He stopped, his face flushed. She stared at him, her eyes trained on his lips and her face hot. In one fluid motion, he pulled her from her saddle and sat her directly in front of him. Alto let out a nicker and stepped away from Bess, who immediately set to grazing. Thomas continued to kiss Genevieve’s neck, and she thought she’d burst from the pleasure of it. Her whole body tingled, from head to toe and her mind grew fuzzy, her head light.

  Then his lips found hers and he nipped playfully at them, drawing her in. She returned his kiss eagerly and wound her hands around his neck, pushing her fingers through his thick hair and grabbing hold of it with both hands. He responded by wrapping his arms tightly around her, pulling her body in close to his. They melded together and he deepened the kiss, his hands running feverishly up and down the length of her back.

  With an effort that took every ounce of willpower she had, Genevieve pulled away, breathless. She opened her eyes and looked directly into his. The intimacy of the moment would usu
ally have left her squeamish, feeling vulnerable and exposed. But she embraced it, her eyes locked on his, unable to look away. “You know how I feel about you, Tom. But –”

  “Actually, no I don’t. I mean, I can guess that you’re attracted to me by the way you kissed me just now.” He grinned mischievously at her and arched an eyebrow. “But I don’t really know, because you’ve never told me.”

  Genevieve hesitated. How did she feel about him? How could she put into words the chaos that thundered through her entire being? She’d never really acknowledged to herself how she felt about him, so how could she, in all honesty, tell him? “Well … I care about you.”

  He snorted and tipped his head to the side. “You care about me? Is that somewhere between how you feel about Patches and chocolate cake, or is it more like the affection you feel toward Bess here?”

  She frowned. He wasn’t being fair. She was doing her best trying to express herself, but she’d never had to do it before – not like this, not with rawness and honesty and vulnerability. I mean, he’d never told her how he felt about her either, and here she was about to dive in headfirst without any idea of what he might say in response. She pulled away from him, her eyes downcast.

  He sighed and slipped a finger beneath her chin, lifted her face to meet his and kissed her forehead, her cheeks and finally her lips – lightly and lovingly. “Genny, my darling. Do you want me to go first?”

  She nodded, a lump forming in her throat at his tender words.

  “I’m in love with you.”

  Her eyebrows arched in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to say that! She thought perhaps that he’d say he admired her or ardently longed for her or something similar. But to say that he loved her – could it be true? “You love me?”

  “Yes, my darling. How could you possibly be unsure of it? Haven’t I shown you over and over? I don’t want anyone else – only you. It’s why I care so much what you think about where the ranch house will be built, because I want to share it with you. I long for it to be our home.” Her eyes filled with tears that welled over and ran down her cheeks, and his own eyes flew wide with concern. “What’s the matter, my darling? Have I upset you somehow?”

  She shook her head and sniffled into her sleeve. Where was a handkerchief when she needed it, for Heaven’s sake? “No … yes! You have, because you love me and I love you and we can’t be together. So what’s the point of talking about it?” She let out a loud howl and buried her face in Thomas’ coat, grabbing hold of his lapels with both hands. She was mortified at the scene she was making, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. The tears ran, mewling sounds emitted from her core and her nose sniffled — as though she had no control over her own body.

  Thomas laughed and encircled her with his arms. “Oh, is that all? But you do love me, then?”

  She lifted her head and nodded through the tears. “Yes – how could I not? But it doesn’t matter – none of it matters. You have to forget me, Tom, put me out of your mind. I couldn’t bear to make you miserable and that’s what I’d do if I let you love me. Because we couldn’t be together, you’d hate me in the end, I know you would. And I’d sooner die than have you hate me. So let me go!”

  She leaped from Alto’s back, landing hard on the ground. Her ankle twisted painfully and she reached out her hands to save herself from going headfirst down the hill. With a shove, she pushed herself to her feet and hobbled over to Bess.

  “Genny, please don’t leave like that,” Thomas begged, coming after her.

  “No – leave me be, Tom. Leave me be, please.” Still blubbering and sniffling, she climbed onto Bess’ back and took off at a gallop down the hill, south along the edge of the Yellowstone River.

  She saw the herd, led by Dan, coming round the bend as she rode. He waved, but she kept her head down and pressed Bess forward. A glance over her shoulder told her that Thomas hadn’t followed her. He’d conceded to her request and sat, still and erect, on Alto’s back as he watched her leave.

  A fresh wave of tears erupted from her at the sight of him, hurt and alone on that hilltop. She felt as though her heart was being torn into tiny pieces, the ache of it filled her entire body. What would she do now? She knew she couldn’t stay here, not with the way they felt about each other. It would only end badly for both of them. If she wasn’t able to get out of her marriage, she’d have to leave. But where would she go?

  Chapter Thirty One

  Genevieve squatted beside the Yellowstone River, scrubbing a petticoat on a washboard. She worked with purpose, but her mind was elsewhere. Thomas and a few of the men had taken the wagons to town the previous day for the rest of the winter supplies. It had been two weeks since they’d set up camp in Paradise Valley and so far the snow had held off, other than a few scattered showers here and there.

  She plunged her hands into the frigid water and rinsed the soap suds from the fabric. Things between her and Thomas had been awkward and their conversation stilted since their arrival. She still hadn’t figured out what she should do. If she didn’t make a decision soon, she’d be stuck here for the winter. It might already be too late to leave. And even if it wasn’t, where would she go?

  She shook her head and scrubbed even harder, trying to distract herself from her own thoughts. I have to think about something else. Anything else!

  She wondered what her good friend Cora was doing now? She’d written a letter to her and mailed it about two months earlier when they’d passed through a small town in Kansas. She couldn’t for the life of her remember the name of the town, but the “post office” was a desk in the mercantile and she’d hurried in and out again as fast as she could, since everyone had been waiting on her.

  In the letter, she’d told Cora about her wedding and how she’d escaped. She said she wouldn’t be coming back to Fort Worth, since she couldn’t risk Fred or Quincey finding her and she’d be hanged before she’d ever let Quincey treat her as she knew he’d treat a wife. She warned Cora not to mention the letter or her whereabouts to anyone else.

  Thomas was going to stop at the post office in Bozeman while he was in town and had promised to ask about any letters for her. She’d given Bozeman as her address on the letter she’d sent, and hoped that perhaps she’d get a response soon. She was dying to hear how Cora was and what their friends were up to. Even though she couldn’t imagine she’d ever truly feel homesick, she did miss her friends. Especially a Bible study group from her church – they’d been her sanctuary for so long, it was strange to go without seeing them.

  She squinted down the valley in the direction of Bozeman, hoping to catch a glimpse of the wagons returning from town. They should be home anytime now, since the sun was close to setting. As she looked, her gaze rested on the flurry of activity on the hill she’d nicknamed Tabletop. The level peak of the hill was long and wide and had plenty of room for the bevy of buildings that Thomas had planned for it.

  All of the men, other than the few who’d gone to town, were there now, working hard on erecting the bunkhouse where the staff would sleep. Thomas planned to live there as well until he had time to build the ranch house. Down near the bottom of the hill, but still a safe distance from the river, Coop and Ost were working hard on building a massive barn. Dan and Vaquero hammered away at a fence that would serve as a temporary enclosure for the cattle until they could begin on the property line fences in the spring. Everywhere she looked, work was going on and the sounds of hammering, sawing and chopping filled the brisk air.

  In the distance, she saw the wagons rock into view around the bend of the river. Her heart leaped with excitement and the anticipation of seeing Thomas again. She threw the sodden petticoats into the basket of clean clothing and linens at her feet, picked up her skirts with one hand and pressed the basket beneath her other arm to run up the embankment to meet them. As they drew closer, she laid the basket at her feet and waved both hands above her head.

  Thomas pulled the chuck wagon to a halt in front of her and grinned when he
saw her wide smile. “Miss me?” he asked, his white teeth shining beneath his dark, bushy beard.

  She nodded and felt her cheeks flush with warmth. “Did you get everything you wanted?”

  “Just about. I got a letter for you too.” He reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out a small envelope.

  She reached up and took it from him. “Thank you, Thomas.” Her heart raced when she saw the return address – it was from Cora. She scurried away to find a tree to sit beneath on the riverbank. When she was settled, she carefully pulled the letter from the envelope and began to read:

  My dearest Genny:

  How surprised I was to receive your letter. And how glad! I thought you were dead. Really, I did. Before I got your letter, I’d been visiting your house every day for weeks on end. Truly, you had me all in a panic. I thought I’d never hear from you again.

  I have news. News that may make you change your mind about coming home. And oh, how I do wish you’d come home.

  Fred and Quincey are dead. The Army found their bodies somewhere out in Indian Territory. Apparently they were shot with arrows. I had no idea what they were doing out there and when I heard they’d been killed I was sure you’d been carried off or killed as well. It broke my heart! But then I got your letter and it all made so much sense. They must have been coming after you, I suppose. Well, anyway, I can’t say I shed a tear for them. But I did for you – many times.

  Please come home. You can stay with me, I promise. There’s no reason for you to stay away now. You’re finally free.

  Write soon. All my love.

  Your friend,

  Cora

  Genevieve’s mouth fell open and she jumped to her feet, holding the letter up in front of her face. Fred and Quincey were dead all this time? That meant … that meant she was free. Free to do as she wished. She didn’t have to run any longer. She could go anywhere she wished, do whatever she chose. Marry whom she pleased.