by Jillian Hart
Her chest ached with a warmth, a pleasure and a joy remembering how special it had felt to be given such fine gifts by her admirer. To think, an admirer. That Frisco. A single thought of him could warm her heart to incandescent. She ran the pad of her thumb over the heart-shaped ruby pin resting in the center of soft black velvet.
"Oh, look!" Stella pointed out the window. "Isn't that the pony who comes to our store? And isn't that the one you went with them to buy?"
30
"Yes, and look at him so happy and all brushed up and washed. The boys must have done that after they got him home." It wasn't easy pushing warmth into her voice. It hurt to hide the devastation inside. But, a girl had her pride and she did not wish to dim her sister's happiness. Besides, this was a personal matter, just hers alone. "Oh, look. I think the feed store owner has had better mornings."
"The feed store owner?" Stella arched one brow, curious, forgetting her cup of coffee on the counter she'd poured and turned her attention to the sun-lit window. "Oh, he doesn't look happy."
"Not at all." Laughter threatened to bubble up, and with it brought warm, good, heart-whole memories of Chester first barging into the store with little Aiden ready to tumble right off, muddy as could be. She loved that moment because it brought Frisco into her life.
It was her own past that kept it from being for keeps.
"The feed store guy does not seem to be handling this well at all," Stella observed.
"True. No argument here." Jada couldn't take her eyes off the sight of the ponies in the street. Mr. Hayes, broom in hand, ran after the ponies to chase them farther down the block.
"Go! Get on with you!" he called out.
Maynard took great outrage at being told what to do and lowered his head, flared his nostrils, pawed the ground and charged. Jada swore she saw the pony wink at Chester, or maybe it was just his brief look of mischief that held her captive. Had she fallen in love with the ponies too, and not just with the boys?
Probably. Look at how easy she fell. No wonder her heart was fractured into pieces. She'd have been wise to hold back her heart, but oh, no. And she couldn't stop. So, captivated, she reached past the little jewelry box with the baubles inside, grabbed an apple, tucked it into her skirt pocket and sailed to the door.
"Hey! You're not going without me." Stella's voice carried out to her as she bounded across the threshold and into the alleyway.
So, the ponies had gotten out again, huh? A few steps took her into view of Third Street where Mr. Hayes with his broom in the air had dashed desperately behind the hitching post railing in front of their store, shouting in protest as the ponies raced on by, Chester taking the lead. Maynard arched his tail, full of pride and gave a whinny of encouragement. Chester clattered up onto the boardwalk and knocked at the wooden door frame with his nose, attempting to open it. It didn't budge.
"Wait." Stella's hand landed on Jada's elbow. "Look. He's nosing the door handle."
"I should whistle to get their attention and rescue them, but they're so funny. Look, Maynard turned around and swung his tail at Mrs. Hayes when she answered the door."
"I've never heard anyone scream like that and grab the fly swatter."
Jada stepped into the street, deciding the ponies weren't likely to notice her holding out an apple.
"Get off my door step! You're bad ponies, both of you. Scat! Go on! Bad ponies!"
Chester's nostrils flared. He risked a step toward the scolding woman and calmly grabbed the fly swatter's swat with his teeth and plucked it out of her hands.
"Ooh! Why, I've never seen the like! You thief!"
Stella leaned in close, standing at the edge of the scene, too. "Where's the newspaper reporter when you need him?"
"And the photographer," Jada added, apple still held out for the ponies to notice. "And I've never seen a man so ticked off. Look at poor Mr. Hayes!"
"I think those words he's yelling are swear words."
"I do, too." She recognized a few choice phrases as the man stopped in the street to jump up and down in place he was so mad, shouting.
"No! I said no, and leave my wife alone!" He fisted his free hand. He kicked the ground. He threw the broom. It ricocheted off the ground and hit him in the knee.
He swore again. Angrier, he turned in a circle so furious, he didn't know what to do. "He kicked me! I can't walk."
"It was just a graze," the sheriff called out from the boardwalk, arms crossed over his chest, amusement warm in his voice. "Don't have a fit or anything, Mr. Hayes. They're just ponies."
"I want my wife's fly swatter back."
"Any fool would be smart enough not to try." The lawman's baritone rang with amusement. "Never wave a broom at that pony. Did you know he was Mr. Johnson's?"
"No, why would I? That's not the one who bit the horse trader in the knee, is it? No one would buy him after that."
"It wasn't the only bite." A familiar voice sailed on the slightly dusty wind, sending a shock wave through her system.
Jada took a step back into the shadows of the side street, heart kicking with adrenaline and fear. She didn't know if she could bear speaking to him face to face again, and so soon. Time healed, they said, and it's true, distance from the shocking depth of pain helped, but this wound would never heal.
Time, she thought. I need time and, more than that, distance from him. I'd do better if I never saw him again. Otherwise it hurt too much. She slipped the apple in her pocket, struggling to breathe and feeling as if the air had suddenly vanished. Seeing him stride into sight, she wondered, how did she protect the broken pieces of her heart?
She retreated another step to the open doorway, standing on jelly legs, trembling. It wasn't easy to watch him stride into view, silhouetted by the sun.
"Ha! That will teach me to trust you, Maynard." Frisco's saddle horse trailed after him, led by one loose rein. The man's calm and kindness drew both pony's attention. "I didn't figure you knew how to untie a knotted rope. Those are some good skills you've got there."
Maynard stopped attempting to get past the feed store owner's wife in front of the gaping door, a third fly swatter in hand. He arched his neck, nickering in recognition and welcome, or at least Jada hoped. It looked as if the difficult pony had a very quick-to-love heart.
Chester threw down the fly swatter he'd stolen and it landed next to the first one laying in the middle of the street. He spun toward Frisco and scented the air. With a whinny of approval, he strolled over to bow his head and eat out of Frisco's outstretched hand.
"I have molasses treats for you too, boy." Frisco's voice dipped warm and manly, the best sound in all the world. He stretched out his other hand, leaving his saddle horse to come to a stop behind him and nibble affectionately on his collar. Encouraged, Maynard hobbled over warily, clearly used to getting into trouble instead of rewarded with bribes. "You're all too smart for me. What am I gonna do about keeping you in the paddock? Oh, I think I see who you might be looking for, huh? There are the boys."
A horse and buggy rattled to a stop in the middle of Third. An older, quite dapper and distinguished but not stuffy version of Frisco leaned back on the seat, reins in hand, amusement wrinkling his features so like his son's. "Well, who do we have here? I'm just driving the boys back, and what do I come across? The ponies out. It's a good thing I didn't take Second Street instead."
"Very funny, and good to see you, Pa." Frisco caught hold of Maynard's halter before he could bolt or finish chewing his molasses grain treats. Grabbing hold of Chester was a piece of cake after Maynard. "I could use a little help here."
"So I see. Boys, you'd best be responsible about those ponies. You got some great ones."
"Better than great!" Aiden leaped from the seat, landing with a two-footed thud in the dirt.
"We got the very best-est." Austin landed beside him and launched forward to give Maynard a pet. The pony nickered, leaned down to nibble a horsey kiss on the boy's forehead and stole his hat. So, he was attached after all. Caught by the heart.
>
Jada knew exactly how that felt. No longer needed, she slipped back inside the kitchen. So, that was that. Whew. What a relief. She hadn't had to endure the shine of his smile or the intimate knowledge of his touch in the dark. But her soul remembered.
She set the apple back on the crate on the counter, heart skipping a beat when she saw the jeweler's box sitting untouched on the counter. This wasn't easy, but she had to stop the affection she felt for him. She had to put away the feelings in her heart. They were apart and would stay that way. That was for the best.
Because this was the way it would always be. Nothing could change it. Not one thing.
"I'll see if Mindy needs any help," Stella was saying, not unaware that something was wrong. Sympathy shadowed her gaze, crinkling her caring eyes in the corners in a dear way. "If not, then I'll start packing up the sewing supplies. What are we going to do with all the pattern books?"
"Why don't we ask the other seamstress in town if she would like a donation? After all, we won't need to work any more." Jada didn't dare hope, but if she kept working the gold claim in secret and it continued to produce better, even for a little while, then the three of them would have enough to live on for years to come, maybe more, if they lived carefully and spent frugally. That meant a better life than they'd ever had, spent in their own home.
Odd, how things were looking up, finally, in her life when it felt like everything good was a closed door. She sidestepped, afraid she might accidentally look up and see him through the window. How she wished that things could be different.
How she adored him still.
* * *
"You boys look like you had a good time at your grandparent's." Frisco watched his pa drive off farther down the road, his buggy rocking a bit over the ruts in the road where it turned around a copse of alder and then out of sight. "And Grandpop was pretty generous with helping you boys catch and bring your ponies home."
"He's a pretty great grandpop," Aiden nodded with deep sincerity.
So did Austin. "The best-est."
Did they just keep getting cuter, or what? He hardened his heart against them, sure he was on the brink of being taken in and completely at their command. "What do you have to say about buying some new fly swatters for Mr. Hayes? I'm sure his traumatized wife would appreciate it."
"I've got an extra penny," Aiden volunteered.
"Me, too." Austin rubbed Maynard's shoulder, gazing up at the pony adoringly. "And the twenty-five cents."
"Then we can probably go into town later and see how this works out. Maybe they have a good supply of the finest fly swatters in stock."
"Maynard didn't seem to like them," Austin observed.
"Neither did Chester." Aiden petted his pony's nose.
"I'm not even going to explain how embarrassing those two were. Mr. Hayes might need a new broom. I'll add that to my shopping list." He took his saddle horse by the reins and led Trigger across the grassy lawn. "You boys bring those ponies. Let's see if we can't contain them for at least the rest of the morning, huh?"
"Pa?" Aiden called out.
"Help!" Austin hollered.
He glanced over his shoulder and stopped in his tracks. "Why am I not surprised? Those ponies don't want to seem to move."
"I told them to giddy up, come along."
"I did, too."
Frisco considered his sons. Their hearts were in their eyes. Had they made the wrong decision loving the kind of ponies who didn't obey? He could see their worries. "I've been waiting for you to find the secret."
"Bribery?" Aiden guessed.
"Trickery?" Austin wondered.
He gazed at both boys and shook his head. "You just have to love them enough, that's all. And sometimes it helps if you let them decide by telling them the opposite. I noticed Jada knew to do that."
"She did?" Aiden lit up.
"We love Jada," Austin brightened up.
"I do, too." Thoughts of Jada weighed down his heart. He'd seen her and her sister's shop in the background as he'd tied both ponies to the back of Pa's buggy. This was going to be complicated. She hadn't come out to see him, and he wished he'd had the time and leisure to wander in and talk to her. To try and get back he'd lost: The hope for her love.
The sound of a steeled horse shoes sang on the breeze. His first thought was if his father had turned around and circled back for a longer visit, but, no, he didn't recognize the pair of fine-stepping bays trotting his way. But he did know the face of one of the men on the front seat, the one holding the reins.
"Stuart." He strode forward, glad and surprised to see a lucrative client and a fine horseman. "What are you doing here? I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow!"
"Came in early to grab the horse auction at Virginia City before I came here, and couldn't get accommodations! The place was filled up, every last hotel and boardinghouse room rented." The amiable, but laid-back horseman shook his head, drawing his bright-eyed team to a halt. The pair of geldings looked him over as if he didn't quite meet their standards. "I remember training these two for you."
"If you're interested, I might have a green-broke pair of mustangs in need of training up. First, I have to make a bid on 'em." Stuart leaned forward, his gaze straight-forward and friendly shadowed by the brim of his Stetson. "Same terms as last time?"
"That's a deal I'll take. I know it's early, but do you want to come to the barn and take a look at the draft horses I trained for you?"
"Keeping my appointment with you tomorrow around two o'clock to see them is just fine by me." Stuart touched his hat. "I have a chance to get an early look at the auction horses in an hour or two. I'm anxious and raring to go, and three days is just too long to wait. I just wanted to check your training schedule. It's good to know you've got room for me if I wind up with a few more horses to train than I warned you about."
"I've always got room for you and your horses, my friend."
The talk turned more personal. Frisco answered questions about his folks and the ponies they were still trying to make follow them to the barn (two carrots had been fetched from the house), and he asked questions about Stuart's parents. Glad his father had recovered from his bout of quinsy, he tipped his hat in goodbye to his client and the brother and turned his attention back to the boys.
"That's it, that's right, Maynard." Austin's voice had turned tender and coaxing. When it doubt, use bribery.
"Good job, Chester, that's my good boy, the best boy in the world," Aiden drawled. A lot of praise helped, too.
With a smile on his lips, Frisco's gaze drifted behind the boys and ponies to the house standing lonely in the sunshine, surrounded by the vibrant green of summer, a house instead of a home. His bedroom windows winked in the sunshine, drawing his gaze.
Jada. He missed her. He needed her. He never should have let her go, he should have made her stay. He should have made sure exactly why she was so sure she had to go. It was her, she'd said. But it hadn't occurred to him that maybe she was being kind, just being Jada, just being her wonderful thoughtful self and not blaming him.
What if she wouldn't change her mind? There was only one reason why she wouldn't, that he knew of. And that was something he had to fix. He couldn't live unless he tried.
* * *
"This house certainly will do." Stella's delightful squeal came from the front porch of the clapboard cottage on the sunny and roomy corner lot that late afternoon, almost evening. "Jada, I can't believe you aren't jumping for joy."
"I already did that when Nelson showed me the place." She set one of the boxes down on the edge of the front porch, next to the recently painted white railing. "His father not only approved the offer immediately, but is giving us the keys one day early. They record the deed tomorrow morning, and it's officially ours."
"All ours! I can't believe it!" Stella swept down the steps, waltz-perfect, looking beautiful in the light yellow day dress she and Mindy had insisted she wear. She smiled up at the man towering in the shadows of the two alder t
rees in the yard. "Tristan, I can't thank you enough for lending a hand."
"It's my pleasure. I have my cousin's entire staff to ask favors of. As it turned out," he said in his pleasant, manly way, a truly dependable and respectful man, "they knew just who to hire. Half of them wanted the extra income."
"It's good to work while the weather is good," one fellow commented on his way by, hefting two heavy crates, one stacked on top of the other. "Once winter comes, most businesses close up or go to part time. Where do you want these boxes, Stella?"
"In the parlor against the wall is just fine, thank you," she answered sweetly, looking just right at Tristan Haywood's side. As if she belonged there for life, even if it took her back to New York.
Jada's heart pinched at the thought of losing her sister to New York State, but not to a loving man. No, never that. She had a great feeling that a happy marriage was in the future for Stella. Tristan mentioned extending his visit to Alder Creek for another month at least. Maybe two. Definitely promising.
"Oh, I can't believe the bedrooms are so spacious. We each get one, and we even have a day room." Mindy danced off the porch steps and bumped up next to Jada at the wagon to lift their more delicate and unmentionable items, as they did not want strange men, no matter how good and decent, carrying their bundles of underthings. It simply wasn't proper. "It gets the south sun, and to think all winter we could be in that large sunny room enjoying that big window view at the trees while we sew, knit or read."
"Exactly. I can't wait to unpack and settle in." She grabbed hold of the box with some of their corsets and petticoats, along with the jewelry Frisco had given her. Jada's heart caught.
"Eventually I may be living here by myself. It seems like Stella and you may both have a different future by wintertime. Who knows what the future holds? Maybe an engagement or two?" Mindy's expression turned bright and hopeful. "Such things couldn't happen to two better sisters."
"You and Stella are the better sisters," Jada attempted to quip, unable to open up to talk about her sorrow. "I have a feeling there might be the right man for you one day."