“I can’t just laze around here all day,” Colton interjected. “There’s work to be done.”
“Then you shouldn’t have let that horse kick you. You’ve got bruised ribs and two dislocated fingers. You’re fortunate there, as well.”
Recalling the pain of re-locating those fingers, he bit back an oath. “I don’t feel very fortunate.”
Beatrix pulled open the door, then in an attitude of pure exhaustion, leaned her head against the frame.
Immediately concerned, he attempted to rise and winced. “Is something wrong?” he demanded.
There were dark circles beneath her eyes, and even her delightful curls appeared to droop a bit.
“Nothing is wrong.” She glanced between him and Dr. Boyd. “I’ve simply been worried about you.”
“Then stop being worried.” His order sounded more petulant than threatening. “I’m fine. All this fuss is for nothing.”
She ignored him, just as she’d ignored every variation of those words he’d said all day. “I’ve made you two lunch.”
She disappeared and returned a moment later holding a tray stacked with sandwiches. She set the offering on the table near his headboard, then backed away.
Marlys smiled her appreciation. “Danke schön, Frau Werner. Wie geht es euch?”
Colton collapsed onto the pillows and gaped. He’d heard the doc was smart, but he hadn’t realized she spoke German, as well. Her accent was impeccable.
At the sound of her own language spoken with such perfection, Beatrix’s face lit up as though she’d seen the first tulip of spring.
For the next twenty minutes, the two women completely ignored him. They chatted away as though he was invisible. Despite the improvements he’d made with his German since Beatrix’s arrival, he could barely keep up with them. The more they spoke, the faster the words tripped together.
To the best of his ability, he followed the conversation, using all his powers of concentration. Marlys asked about the baby and Beatrix’s health. She gave orders for him to rest and to visit her offices for a mineral bath once he was able.
Not likely.
He wasn’t lounging around in some mineral bath like a pampered heiress.
Watching the two of them together, a painful weight settled on his chest. He hadn’t taken into consideration how Beatrix had been suffering with isolation and homesickness all these weeks. Because of his own experience growing up, he’d treated their tribulations as though they were equal, but the reality was far different.
Sure, he’d struggled with the language barrier when he’d first lived with his grandparents, but that experience paled in comparison to what Beatrix was going through. His grandparents’ farm was only a twenty-minute ride from town.
He’d been twenty minutes from immersing himself in his own language once more. Beatrix was worlds away from anything familiar.
Dr. Boyd stood and removed her white apron, then cast him a withering glance. “I won’t tell you to rest, because I know men. The more I order you to rest, the more determined you’ll be to work. Instead, I’ll simply ask that you perform only light duties for the next few days. Though your ribs are only bruised, they’re vulnerable. Another blow and the bones will snap. Then you’ll truly be laid up for a week, doctor’s orders or not.”
The mattress depressed beside him, and Beatrix touched his cheek. “Promise you’ll be careful?”
Her thumb caressed the side of his jaw. The motion was relaxing...hypnotizing. “I always follow doctor’s orders.”
“Liar.”
Her eyelids lowered at his touch, and he felt her lean slightly toward him. The look was unconsciously inviting, alluring. He longed to pull her into his arms but refrained because of the doctor’s audience.
Dr. Boyd, always brisk and efficient, lifted her leather bag and crossed to the door. “Call on me if you need anything. Remember, don’t wrap the bindings too tightly. Only light activity. Come by the office for a mineral bath when you’re feeling up to the journey.”
She and Beatrix spoke a few more words of German before the doctor quietly exited the room.
He reached for Beatrix, but she scurried out of the room. “Rest. The doctor has ordered you to rest.”
The remainder of the day passed with boredom punctuated by Daniel and Will who gave him no end of teasing for his predicament. He spent a sleepless night, each toss and turn pressing against his bruised ribs, waking him. The following morning he managed a few chores before the pain caught up with him.
In deference to Beatrix, he crawled back into bed after lunch. There was no use making her sick with worry.
Except there was something decidedly determined in the set of her jaw this afternoon. Something that didn’t bode well for him.
She paced before the foot of the bed, her lower lip pulled between her teeth. “The ladies in town are working on a time capsule. They are writing down the stories of the war.”
“I heard.” He reached for the coffee she’d brought him. Some parts of being laid up weren’t half bad.
“They have asked me to help them.”
“Good.” He liked the idea of her having a hobby. “I’m sure the ladies are pleased with your help. Is Marlys involved?”
“Yes.”
Even better. Beatrix would have someone near who spoke her language, and could help her navigate the new culture.
“I want to tell your story,” Beatrix said softly.
Colton’s hand jerked, sloshing the coffee, and he winced. “That’s not a good idea.”
“Will says that you have many medals.”
His throat worked. The mere idea of someone writing down his experiences filled him with revulsion. His knuckles whitened around the handle of his mug.
Beatrix took a cautious step back. Was his expression that terrifying? He felt a rush of remorse. After the incident on the day of the move, he was fearful of frightening her.
“The war isn’t something I like to talk about.” He forced calm into his voice. “I’m sure you can assist the ladies some other way.”
“Is there something you’d like to donate? A piece of memorabilia?”
“I burned my uniform.”
At his harsh tone, her face paled.
“Beatrix—” he held out his hand, then let his arm drop against his side with a wince “—nothing good can come from digging up the past.”
“But if you had medals, you must have earned them with your courage. Don’t you want someone to understand your sacrifice?”
“There was no sacrifice. The medals, the stories. Everything is a lie. They’ll still be lies in one hundred years.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Help the ladies all you want, but I want no part of the project.”
There was no way to explain, no way to tell her without bringing up the past.
She perched on the bed beside him and gently rested his injured hand in her palms. “How is your hand?”
“Better.”
“I’m sorry I brought up the project. I don’t want to argue.”
“We’re not arguing.” He cupped her cheek. “I’m being surly because I let old man Bishop’s horse get the better of me.”
“Dr. Boyd seems like a very good doctor.”
Colton flexed his fingers. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to follow her advice. The salve she gave me has helped.”
Beatrix rubbed one of the scars on the back of his hand with the pad of her thumb. “I don’t think a mineral bath can hurt anything.”
“I’m sorry about the project.”
“I don’t mind. I promised the committee that I would ask. I have done what I promised.”
She’d asked so little of him, and yet he must refuse. There was no way of telling her the war stories
without telling her about Joseph. No way of being totally honest with her without digging up the past.
The memory of her joy at speaking with Marlys the previous day lingered in his memory. Beatrix deserved some comfort. She deserved some news from home.
He placed his hand over hers. “I think you should write to your sisters.”
She looked away. “They don’t want to hear from me.”
“You don’t know that. Your father sounds like a very strong man. While your sisters were reluctant to face him, I’m certain they’re worried about you.”
Her face brightened. “I almost forgot. Leah is organizing a Thanksgiving celebration in the ballroom of the Cattleman Hotel.”
“Leah keeps busy, and you’re changing the subject.”
“Yes.”
“All right.” They both had a stubborn streak. “Tell me about this celebration.”
“There will be food. And Piper Kendricks is going to do a stage show.”
“I think her name is Pippa.”
“Ah, yes. Pippa is going to do a show. They say she is very beautiful and very talented.”
Having Beatrix near was provoking all the longings he’d feared. Everything about her drew him to her—her touch, her smile, the way she cared for Joseph. Yet with each joy came the same guilt. If he allowed himself this slice of happiness, what did that mean for all the people he’d hurt with his actions? What did that mean for Joseph’s memory? He felt the pull toward happiness, but shied away, fearing that his joy would be snatched away again.
He didn’t believe a higher power was preventing their happiness, which meant he was sabotaging his future because of the guilt he carried from his past. Always before the consequences of his youthful actions had been his alone to bear, but now he had Beatrix to consider. Now his actions punished them both.
She unconsciously rubbed the back of his hand in tantalizing circles, and he struggled to recall what they’d been speaking about. “Pippa organized a show at the opera house last spring.”
Pippa had been a darling of the mail-order brides from the first bride train. She was beautiful and vivacious, and more than one man in town had fallen for her before she’d married Gideon Kendricks.
“You like this Pippa person?”
“She’s an excellent actress. Personally, I don’t know her very well. As far as women are concerned, she’s not my preference.”
He didn’t want to think about the past anymore. He didn’t dare ponder the future. He simply wanted this moment. If his happiness was fleeting, he’d take what little he could grab. He caught her gaze and something flared between them. A reckless anticipation took hold of him.
Winding his free hand around the nape of her neck, he drew her close. Having her near incited an unbearable longing. Beatrix trembled, and she moved her hands tentatively, sliding her fingers up his shoulders. He pressed closer and felt her soft whimper against his lips. His hands caressed the delicate skin behind her ear and moved down to cradle her side.
A knock sounded on the door. He pressed his forehead against hers and bit back a curse. Perhaps he wasn’t meant to be happy. Each time he and Beatrix came together, something always drew them apart.
She tsked at the frustrated look on his face and muffled a giggle behind one hand. “It is always something with us, ja?”
“Ja.”
“That will be the Walter Frye, from the livery, I think,” she said. “He has some questions for you.”
“I’d better speak with him.”
The work didn’t stop simply because he’d been laid up.
Beatrix blew him a kiss from the doorway. “We can finish our...ahem...discussion later.”
Heat flooded his face. “Yes.”
No doubt they’d simply be interrupted again.
His past would always stand between them. He was starting to believe he wasn’t meant to be happy. And if he wasn’t meant to be happy, what did that mean for Beatrix?
Chapter Eleven
“Beatrix!” Leah called from the door leading into the ballroom of the Cattleman Hotel. “This way.”
She waved her hands over the crowds, drawing their attention. Beatrix made her way toward her friend, pushing through the good-natured jostling of people swarming into the ballroom for the Thanksgiving celebration. She carefully guarded the cake she’d slaved over for most of the morning.
The friendly chatter spilling from the enormous space was nearly deafening. Colton hoisted Joseph higher on his shoulder and placed a protective hand around her waist. Beatrix smiled at the baby. His eyes were wide, and he stuffed a fist into his mouth. He seemed to be enjoying all the commotion.
Using his superior height to his advantage, Colton led them toward where Leah and Tomasina stood.
“I’m so glad you could make it,” Leah said once they’d navigated the crowd. “The parlor has been set aside for the children.” She indicated the room opposite where they stood. “Once Joseph is situated, you can help with the buffet table. We have more food than the table will accommodate.”
Beatrix strained for a view of the ballroom. The ladies on the Thanksgiving Committee had outdone themselves. A stage had been erected at the far end of the room. Row upon row of tables and chairs had been situated lengthwise from the stage. Each table had been set with centerpieces at varying intervals. There were heaps of gourds and cornucopias brimming with nuts. Candles scattered throughout the space gave the room a warm glow along with the light from the enormous chandeliers hanging overhead.
“This way,” Colton said. “I’ll forge a trail.”
Beatrix smiled and shouted her thanks over the noise.
The parlor had indeed been cordoned off for all the children. There were cradles lining the walls for the babies, and the older children had been recruited to watch the younger children. Hannah Johnson, the owner of the dress shop, had taken the first shift overseeing the chaos.
Colton handed over Joseph to Hannah. The dressmaker patted the head of a young boy, no more than eight years old, with dark eyes and curly dark hair.
“This is August,” Hannah said. “He’s been helping me out today.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “His father is Sam Mason, editor of the newspaper. You didn’t hear this from me, but I think there’s a romance brewing between Mr. Mason and Dr. Boyd.”
The crowd surged around them once more before Beatrix could even digest the shocking piece of gossip. Dr. Boyd seemed so independent and solitary, she’d never considered her courting someone.
There was little time to ponder Hannah’s announcement. Beatrix clutched the edges of the cake pan and made her way toward Leah again. She’d woken up an extra hour earlier to work on the cake, and her effort and paid off. The torte had turned out beautifully. Colton had begged for a slice, but she’d held him off.
Once, she’d even had to slap his fingers away from the edge. He’d laughed and made her promise to bake two tortes the following year.
Leah glanced at the cake and clasped her hands, exclaiming in delight. “Oh my, that’s too pretty to eat.”
She led them toward a buffet brimming with food. The sight was magnificent as well as overwhelming. The scent of roasted turkey mingled with the various pies and side dishes.
Beatrix laughed. “Who will eat that much food?”
“Don’t worry.” Leah joined her laughter. “Nothing will be wasted. We’ll eat what we can, and send the rest home with the bachelors and the drovers. There are always plenty of men to feed around Cowboy Creek.”
Beatrix carefully set her cake toward the back of the table.
Colton leaned over her shoulder. “You have the prettiest dish on the whole buffet.”
Her chest swelled. Though not as accomplished a baker as some of her sisters, she knew she’d done a fine job on the cake this
morning.
“Thank you,” she said. “You look very handsome today.”
He’d worn the somber gray suit and string tie he’d donned the day he’d brought her the wedding ring. While he was handsome in his work clothing, he was devastating in a suit. Without pausing to think, she reached out and adjusted his tie, then smoothed his collar.
His face flushed, and he covered her hand. “Thank you, Mrs. Werner. I have the prettiest girl in the room on my arm.”
She glanced at his hand and her heart stuttered. “You’re wearing a wedding ring.”
“Yes,” he said. “I can’t wear a ring for work, but nothing says I can’t have jewelry for special occasions.” He tugged a box from his pocket. “You should wear yours. I wanted to surprise you.”
She hastily slid the ring on her finger. “Thank you.”
Hope stirred in her heart. He’d remembered her ring, and he’d even bought one for himself. That had to mean something.
“You are quite welcome,” he said.
The next half hour passed in pleasant chaos. Beatrix was introduced to so many new people, she’d never remember all their names. When she was introduced to Mr. Mason, she made a point to remember him. He seemed like a nice man. Dr. Boyd had been such a help to Beatrix over the past week, she felt protective toward her.
Dish after dish was passed around the table. Pippa performed her show to a standing ovation. The room heated from all the bodies, and Beatrix’s face flushed pleasantly. Colton tolerated the crowds, greeting people and ensuring she had everything she needed.
When the ladies broke away to serve the desserts, he clasped her hand. “Would you like a breath of fresh air?”
“Please!” she exclaimed.
Laughing, they fought their way through the maze of tables and emerged triumphant into the lobby of the hotel.
Colton grasped her shoulders. “Beatrix, I—”
“Mrs. Werner,” a male voice called. “I have something for you.”
Colton’s hands dropped away. He rubbed his forehead. “I should have known.”
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