At twelve, she held a childish infatuation for the handsome, thirty-nine-year-old man with the boyish smile and intoxicating chuckle and had visited the mercantile daily. Before school, after, and any time in-between. Tommy was a permanent fixture behind the counter, stacking shelves, or sweeping the floor. His wink and smile were sure to send a bevy of butterflies racing up and down her back and make her blush to her roots. He’d always chuckle and toss her a piece of hard candy from the jar.
The age difference between them never bothered Beth in the least. Thirty years separated her own parents, who’d had Beth late in life. Beth fancied Tommy distinguished and herself open-minded. The girls at school shied away, so she’d spent most of her time alone in her room, dreaming of the day she became Mrs. Tommy Hollyhock.
At fourteen, she suffered the death of her father. The small home they lived in was paid off, and he’d set away enough money for her and her mother to live on for years. Never very hardy, two years later her mother went to her grave from an unknown illness. But until then, she’d encouraged her daughter’s feelings toward Tommy. She’d twist Beth’s hair in rag curls each night, no matter how uncomfortable they were on the pillow, because the result of shiny brown ringlets swishing around her shoulders was sure to garner a compliment. You look like a princess in a fairy tale with all those curls, Miss Fairington. You better be careful, or someday a handsome prince will scoop you up onto his white horse and spirit you away into the sunset. Beth cherished each morsel of attention Tommy sent her way.
At eighteen and alone, she’d made her move, fearful another woman would come along and catch his eye. She applied for the part-time position Violet had advertised in the window—and got the job.
By then, Tommy was forty-five, a confirmed bachelor, with stories of taking off and seeing the world. More to life existed than his ma’s small mercantile in Valley Springs, he’d say with a faraway gleam in his eyes.
The words always brought a haunted look to Violet and sent fear and pain slicing through Beth’s heart. By then, he’d branched out and started a side business of his own. When he wasn’t in the mercantile, he was doing odd jobs for anyone who’d pay. He roofed, built sheds or barns, painted, helped with plowing when planting season rolled around, and even branded cattle if a ranch in the area was short a hand. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t or wouldn’t do.
Still, no matter how much Beth smiled, accidently-on-purpose touched his hand, or brought him baked cookies and left little notes, he thought her a girl, a child, and chucked her under her chin, to her frustration. More than a few times, she’d hurried home to an empty house, ignoring concerned looks from passersby, to lock herself away in her bedroom and cry her eyes out. Something had to be done. Something drastic! If not, her beloved would pack his bag and leave Valley Springs without a by-your-leave. The day after her nineteenth birthday, she formulated a plan that was sure to succeed. And it had, for a while.
Someone knocked on Beth’s door.
Beth wiped her eyes and quietly blew her nose on the handkerchief crumpled in her fist. “Go away. I’m resting.”
The door slowly squeaked open, and Jessie peeked in. “I’ve made some chicken soup that’ll be finished soon. Can I set you a place at the table? Lunchtime has come and gone. You must be hungry.”
“No, thank you, though. I ate before I came out, but I appreciate the gesture.”
As if she hadn’t heard a word, Jessie stepped into the room and softly closed the door, staying where she stood.
Jessie Strong Logan, one of the banes of Beth’s life, showing pity at her most vulnerable moment. Everyone in Valley Springs had loved Jessie the instant Nathan Strong brought her home. She’d stepped into town, and all the single men took notice. And who wouldn’t? Young, fresh-faced, and beautiful, with a blanket of long, golden hair flowing down her back. Beth had been surprised she hadn’t come with angel wings. Didn’t matter in the least that Jessie was already married.
“Beth, your lips are blue. Please come out and warm yourself by the fire. Or at least open your door so some of the heat can get inside. This room is freezing.” She came closer and edged her hip onto the bed. “Mr. Hollyhock is still in with Violet, so you’ve nothing to worry about.”
Nothing to worry about? Just like Jessie to downplay the situation. How would she feel if the joke was on her? When the town got wind of this, Beth would be the laughingstock of Logan Meadows, even more than she already was. Had Tommy returned to put the finishing touches on her never-healing broken heart?
“I’m not hungry, Jessie,” Beth gritted out. “But thank you. You really don’t need to worry. Go out where it’s warmer.” She’d like to give Jessie an earful, tell her to mind her own business, leave her in peace, but she just didn’t have the energy anymore. Why bother? She was thirty-five, a spinster, and destined to live out her life in the back of Maude’s store with the lumpy cot and broken mirror.
Jessie had two children, a loving, handsome husband, and a beautiful home.
All Beth had ever really wanted was Tommy. But he’d not wanted her in return. A wad of emotion pushed painfully up Beth’s throat, threatening to strangle her. She gasped and turned away, embarrassed because she couldn’t stem the hot tears threatening to fall.
Jessie surged forward and wrapped Beth in her arms. “Please don’t cry. Things’ll work out. Mr. Hollyhock asked you to stay. He probably wants to talk and tell you he’s sorry for what happened.”
No, he probably wanted to blame her for wrecking his life. As hard as she tried, she just couldn’t keep her sobs inside. One was followed by two, then four. By the time she ran out of tears, she’d been in Jessie’s arms for a good ten minutes. She prayed to God no one else had heard, especially Tommy.
They sat still for several moments longer, and then Jessie leaned back and gently brushed Beth’s hair, soggy from the snow, out of her eyes.
Humiliated, Beth couldn’t meet her gaze.
“I have no idea what Mr. Hollyhock is thinking, or what he’ll say, but I hope you’ll hear him out with an open heart. For your sake, as well as his. I know he hurt you in the worst way, and you have every reason to scorn him, but I hope you won’t. He’s been carrying the guilt of what he’s done for a long time.”
“Fifteen years,” Beth whispered.
Jessie nodded. “That’s punishment enough. And you’ve been carrying your own hurt. That must have been awfully heavy.”
Using her hanky, Beth wiped the tears from her face and composed herself, feeling foolish to have fallen apart in such a manner. She should say something kind to Jessie, but her mind was still fogged with regrets and pain.
Jessie looked at the floor. “I’ll take your dress out and hang it by the fire, but for now you can borrow one of mine. I’ve been staying here since Violet took sick and have the room down the hall.”
“Oh no, I—”
“You can, and you will! The snowstorm has not lessened. I don’t believe anyone will be going back to town today. It’s a good thing the Red Rooster has plenty of rooms.” She smiled and patted Beth’s hand. “You came out to make peace with Violet and lost your nerve?”
Beth nodded. Why not admit to another foolish decision? It was only one in a million. Nothing mattered anymore. “After walking all the way from town, I hesitated, my resolve crumbling. I didn’t want to get thrown out a second time. So I changed my mind at the door. Silly, I know…”
“Not silly. But I know she wouldn’t have thrown you out. Even though she won’t say as much, she misses you dearly and has been sad since you left. You’re like the daughter she never had, Beth. You must know that by now, and all the years you’ve been together. Once, when she was delirious, she mumbled your name and said she was sorry. I’m happy you decided to come.”
Boots clomped past her door.
Jessie’s eyes widened. “That must be Mr. Hollyhock.”
“I would think so.” How old was Tommy now? To retain her sanity, she�
�d stopped keeping track years ago.
Jessie stood. “I’ll go get a dress you can use and some fresh water to wash your face. Dinner will be ready as soon as I make a batch of biscuits to go along with the soup. Freshen up.”
She never believed she’d be taking advice from Jessie Logan, but that was the case.
Jessie bundled up the dress crumpled on the floor and gave her a fleeting smile before she left the room.
Apparently, Jessie did have angel wings, just ones that couldn’t be seen.
Chapter Forty-Seven
By the time the wagon reached the ranch, Courtney felt like a cube of ice. Snow swirled everywhere. The barn was buttoned up tight, and no ranch hands were around to be seen.
Tyler drove the wagon up to the ranch house. “Get inside and get warm,” he shouted into the wind. “Could be a whiteout.”
Courtney grasped his arm. “No. Drive to the barn, and I’ll open the doors. The horses are weary.”
“I’ve got it!”
Feeling hollow for all the shameful admissions, having the storm to argue about now was a relief. Gabe or Chase were caring for the children. They wouldn’t miss her for a few more minutes. “Please, allow me to help, Tyler. I want to.”
He shrugged, as if to say he couldn’t stop her anyway. His lips were blue and his face wet. She suspected she didn’t look much better. The biting cold was something she hadn’t experienced in Newport. Storms happened on the Pacific coast but were nothing like a Wyoming whiteout.
“Fine then!” He slapped the long lines across the horses’ backs, and the buckboard jerked forward. Tyler wrestled the horses around and headed toward the narrow road to the barn. “Sure you can get the doors? They’re heavy.” He stopped the wagon at the barn.
“Yes, I’m sure,” she said. “I’ve been out here before.” She climbed down as gracefully as she could with frozen fingers and feet and hobbled over to the tall doors. Heaving with all her might, she opened one side to the restless sound of the horses inside.
One horse nickered. Another kicked the side of his stall.
Working the other door, she backed away.
Then Tyler drove the wagon past and down the center passageway. He pulled up on the lines.
As she closed the barn doors, silence descended. The storm raged outside but being protected from the wind brought instant relief.
Tyler went straight to work, unhitching the snow-covered horses. The poor geldings waited patiently to be freed from their harness. Quickly stabled, Tyler climbed into the loft and tossed down a good amount of hay.
“They eat that much?” she asked, amazed.
“Today they deserve extra.”
Shivering violently, she watched Tyler wipe the harnesses before hanging them in the tack room. “Will the horses be all right wet like that?”
He was on his way back. “They normally stay in the pasture. I’ll put them out as soon as they eat.”
He was a good man. He hadn’t castigated her when he’d learned the true circumstances with Wil. She’d steeled herself for his reaction, which never really came. The barn around them was quiet, with just the sound of the sodden horses munching away. His battered face looked painful.
“Come on. You’re cold, and your lips are bluer than a berry pie. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d just eaten one. Let’s get you inside.”
His kindness touched her. For one moment, she didn’t want to feel shame. She smiled back into his earnest eyes, which truly seemed concerned for her welfare. Wil had never been so solicitous in their courtship, if she could call what they’d been about by that term. As cold as she was, she didn’t want to go just yet, didn’t want to let go of the warm feelings tumbling around inside.
He stared, a small smile pulling the corners of his lips.
“Tyler, I like to—”
Somebody slid open one side of the barn doors and strode inside.
She and Tyler weren’t standing that close, but still, she took a long step away.
“Ty!”
Jake, with snow-covered shoulders, closed the distance, his saddle horse trailing behind. They skirted the wagon and continued to where she and Tyler stood. “Thought I saw you arrive.” His gaze took in Courtney’s condition and the purpling of Tyler’s face and frowned.
A spot of dried blood marked the corner of Tyler’s left eyebrow. The cut in his lower lip crusted.
Tyler nodded. “Just came from town.”
“Yeah, I followed your tracks. Good thing you didn’t wait any longer to set off, or else you might’ve gotten stuck. Could have three feet by mornin’.”
Her brother’s gaze traced back and forth between her and Tyler. What was he thinking? Something. Jake didn’t often string so many words at one time.
Tyler glanced out the door at the white wall of snow. “I think you’re right.” He rubbed a hand over his face and winced.
Jake gestured with his chin. “What happened to you?”
“You don’t know? Since you’ve been in town, I was hoping you’d say Dalton or Thom jailed Wil for fighting. Courtney sent Roberta to fetch him. We tangled in the Silky Hen.”
Jake dropped his gaze to the dirt at Courtney’s feet.
Would she ever stop causing trouble for her family?
“News to me,” Jake replied. “Dalton’s at the Red Rooster, and I was with Thom at the livery, talking with Win. I guess Roberta never found anyone to deal with Wil.”
Tyler swallowed a curse and glanced at her. “I wish you’d let me finish the job.”
“Tyler!”
“Not kill him, Courtney, but see that he’d been properly locked up.” His gaze again tracked to the open barn doors and the white wall of snow. “I don’t like thinking he’s out there somewhere, nursing a grudge,” he looked at her, “over you or Jake. And now, with almost everyone else in town. He makes enemies faster than a rattlesnake strikes. I have a mind to ride back to Logan Meadows.”
Courtney wanted to lay her hand on Tyler’s arm. Maybe rekindle a little of the closeness she’d felt in the wagon, but she didn’t dare. “You can’t, Tyler. You were fighting, too. He’ll say you threw the first punch. Leaving quickly was supposed to keep you out of trouble. Dalton jailed both Dwight and Wil when they fought, if you recall.”
“Well, standing here chewing the situation won’t get us anywhere.” Jake glanced at his bay gelding. “I need to unsaddle, and Courtney needs to get inside.”
Tyler nodded. “I’ll walk her in and check things out. I don’t put anything past Wil.”
Courtney almost winced. As you shouldn’t.
“He’s right, Court,” Jake said. “We all have to be careful. Seems Wil’s gettin’ bolder with each passing day. We can’t take any chances.” He gave her a dark stare. “And that means you as well. If you hear from him at all, you’re to alert one of us, do you hear me?”
As much as she didn’t like the authoritative sound of Jake’s tone, she knew he was justified to speak to her in any way he wanted. He was the head of their family, and at the moment, their family was being threatened by a wild, unpredictable man—because of her. The Christmas Eve party was only seven days away, and then Wil would stand up in front of everyone and expose her shame. From then on, she’d be a different person.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Beth sat at the table across from Tommy, her stomach in knots. An hour before, because avoiding him forever would be impossible, she’d dressed in the garment Jessie had offered, washed up, brushed her hair, and then emerged from the room.
Tommy declared Violet had agreed to take some nourishment, causing Jessie to all but fly into her room with several biscuits and bowl of chicken soup, leaving Beth at the window watching the snow pile up outside. After what felt like a lifetime, and Violet had taken as much as she could at one time, the five of them—Dalton, Adaline, Tommy, Jessie, and Beth—had gathered around the table for prayer and then a simple supper.
Wh
en the meal was finished, Jessie went back to watch over Violet, Dalton sat with Adaline in front of the fire, speaking in soft tones, and Tommy asked her permission to have a private conversation at the table. If she had been able to think of an excuse to avoid this unpleasantness, she’d be the first to blurt out the suggestion. As it was, the quiet kitchen of the Red Rooster, dim from the waning light and the one lantern on the windowsill, was as good a place as any to face her demons.
He looked uncomfortable. He rubbed his hand over his mouth several times. A full chin of whiskers covered his still square jaw and not an ounce of fat had changed his powerful physique. She softly cleared her throat. A small smile curved his lips.
“So, you were coming from seeing my ma when I found you walking in the snow?”
What a strange way to begin a conversation fifteen years overdue. She nodded. “Not exactly. Speaking with Violet had been my intention, but I lost my nerve and turned around. Some days before we had a nasty argument and she threw me out of the inn. With the gravity of her health, necessity said we should make up. That exchange has yet to happen.”
“I see.”
He looked so old. Still handsome, still manly, but definitely much older than when she’d last seen him. His once-dark hair was almost all gray, and much too long for her liking. His forehead and around his eyes were plenty wrinkled, but his lips were still firm as they’d been back then. His large hands rested on the edge of the table, and he fingered a crumb on the blue-checkered tablecloth left over from the five biscuits he’d consumed.
“Perhaps tonight, if Violet feels able to listen, I’ll finish what I started earlier today—apologize for the hurtful words I said.”
How strange. His voice was so dear, the way he tipped his face down and looked up at her exactly the same as before. Who could explain life? Not her, never her.
“Miss Fairington, I want to apologize for any pain I caused you all those years ago.” He dropped his gaze to the near-empty coffee cup engulfed in his palms.
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