“There’s so much to see and touch and taste.” He moved to the stove. “I’m tired of my own cooking.”
Birdie’s gaze met hers. “It’s too late for him to catch a train home.”
“That’s right.” Hedd edged closer to the stew. “But I promise I’ll board one tomorrow if you feed me tonight.”
“Fine. But you’ll have to wait until the Peregrine men get home.”
A blush rose on Birdie’s cheeks. “We don’t have enough plates, or seats, for six people. I’m—” Birdie’s spoon halted. “I’m sorry that I’m not a better hostess.”
True guilt etched Hedd’s face as stared at the counter with its limited space. Before either of them could reassure Birdie that she was a wonderful hostess, the door opened and in strode Jack.
Without Max or Gus.
Jack blinked in surprise as his gaze locked on Hedd. Then he smiled and offered his hand to shake. “You must be Heddwyn.”
It was Hedd’s turn to look confused. “How does he know…?” He trailed off as he glanced at Robyn and then Birdie, who was grinning at her husband.
“Of course. You described me to your husband. The same way you described him to me.” He grabbed Jack’s hand and pumped it vigorously. “Hello, wild-haired man who never stops working. No, that’s too long a name. You’re…” He stared at the ceiling as if deep in thought, then proclaimed with a devilish smile, “Busy Bee. On account of you being so short and yellow-haired.”
Jack cocked a brow as he studied her brother’s height with the eye of a carpenter used to measuring everything. Hedd wasn’t more than a hand’s-breadth taller than Jack and Max.
A smile twitched Jack’s lips. He didn’t need her to explain her brother’s tomfoolery. When he winked at Birdie, Robyn knew she’d told her husband about the tomfoolery as well. “Or you could just call me Jack?”
Hedd huffed with indignation, but his devilish smile had returned. “Where’s the fun in that? You’re an awful lot like your brother you know.”
“Where is he?” Robyn struggled not to let her anxiety creep into her voice. “And Gus too?”
“Max took a wagon to fetch Gus from Ezra’s ranch.”
“He’s been out there the entire day?” Birdie’s tone turned relieved. “That’s good to hear. I wasn’t certain where he was.”
Jack frowned as he went to his wife, bent down on one knee, and gently cupped her cheek. He didn’t comment on her needing to rest or not worry so much. He probably sensed he’d pestered her enough yesterday. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
Birdie laid her hand over his and leaned into his touch. “An apology is unnecessary. There is no need to mollycoddle me, but in Grand-père’s case… Perhaps delivering him to Ezra’s ranch where he’ll be content to sit and knit every day is a wise idea. At least until their project is finished.”
Jack placed a kiss on Birdie’s forehead, a slow one that expressed so much love it made Robyn’s heart ache. Max had yet to even hold her hand.
“Could you rustle up a seat for our newest arrival?” Birdie whispered.
Jack rose to feet. “Start eating without me. I’ll be back in a flash.” He scowled at the counter as he lifted the passageway that bisected it and crossed through. “Need to make a table someday as well,” he muttered.
“But where would you put it?” Hedd asked. “You need more space.”
“Yes, we do. And you know what you’d better do?” Jack hollered over his shoulder as he strode toward his carpentry shop. “You’d better start eating because I can’t make extra plates.”
“Oh, I’m sure you could,” Hedd yelled back. “I’ve seen ones made out of wood.”
“Stop jawing and start eating,” Jack ordered with a surprising amount of humor in his voice. Not everyone took to her brothers’ teasing so well. “Or there may be no food left for you when Max and Gus get here—which should be soon.”
Robyn stared at the door, now equally dreading and anticipating it opening. Hedd had reacted very unexpectedly to her new appearance. What would Max say, and do, when he saw her? And then saw Hedd in Noelle?
She hoped knowing at least two of her brothers still remained in Denver looking after Max’s office was enough to keep him in Noelle. At least until he saw her differently. Maybe tonight, her changes would inspire him enough to hold her hand or even kiss her.
Chapter 9
December 23, 1877
Two days until Christmas and the party
“He did nothing?” Felicity’s voice rose with disbelief. For someone of average height, midway between Robyn and Birdie’s stature, the reverend’s wife had a very unaverage voice. She talked fast and had opinions on everything.
Usually Robyn appreciated such outspokenness, but discussing her challenges with Max had her squirming on her chair. “He said nothing about my hair, but he did ask me to work with him and Jack today.”
She scanned the faces of the five women seated with her around Peregrines’ office counter. Jane Creary had been too busy to join them, but her sister, Rosalind, had assembled a diverse crew of teachers. And with Jack’s creation of a stool for Heddwyn, there were enough seats for everyone.
“Good for you for saying no. You’re a guest in Noelle.” Penny’s gray eyes flashed like lightning as she slapped the counter, behaving a lot like Gus when he wanted to make a point.
Birdie had written that Gus had given Penny and many of the Brides of Noelle considerable advice about relationships and life. Robyn smiled seeing the mayor’s wife now doing the same.
Minnie shifted on her seat, with good reason. She, like Birdie, was pregnant. “Since you can’t stay long, your time here should be a holiday.”
Holiday. There was that word again. Practicing ladylike conversations—or the art of idle chatter as they’d also labeled the endeavor—with her new friends felt like a lot more work than hauling freight.
She’d rather speak plainly, even if the discussion forced her to address her issues with Max. “I told him I was staying at Peregrines because I wanted to try running the postal office.”
Rosalind, whose family ran the nearby boarding house, wasn’t one to take a holiday either. She rose and started refilling their cups. “I thought you said you wanted to spend more time with Jack’s brother.”
“I do. But his lack of reaction to my hair made me as ornery as a mule.” She stiffened in remembrance, then her shoulders slumped. “Plus, I felt guilty for not helping Birdie yesterday.”
They all glanced toward the carpentry shop. Birdie and Daphne had retreated behind its closed door to discuss their dress and hat pairings. Away from the other women’s nattering. Who knew conversation lessons could be so repetitive?
Say it like this.
Not quite right. It’s more like this.
You’ve almost got it, but try this.
Ugh. She’d asked for this, but she struggled with forced politeness. She couldn’t understand half of the things her new friends were saying. She had to keep trying though because her conversations with Max kept growing increasingly difficult. Maybe today’s lessons would help. She was now inclined to try anything to resurrect their easy banter.
“What happened after you said you wouldn’t work with him?” Felicity asked, driving the conversation as usual.
“Gus told me the steps for receiving and distributing the post. Then he declared he was going to bed. That his fingers were tired from—” Robyn bit back the word knitting. “A secret project.”
“More leather tooling gifts?” Penny smiled as she contemplated Gus’ tool rack on the wall.
“Maybe,” Robyn said with a shrug. “But last night, the strangest part was Birdie being short of breath, and then after dinner admitting she was also tired and heading upstairs early. I’ve never known her to slow down, let alone stop.”
“She does appear paler than usual.” Pearl’s voice was quiet but concerned. Of Robyn’s five instructors, the sheriff’s wife was the most soft-spoken. Most of the time. Rob
yn couldn’t imagine surviving a life of prostitution or breaking free from it, as Pearl had, without being incredibly strong.
Robyn’s grip on her cup tightened. Since Brynmor lost the sight in his eye and could’ve easily lost his life at the same time, she’d become increasingly worried about losing the people she loved. With her feet resting on her stool’s foot ring, she couldn’t stop her knees from bouncing up and down.
When Pearl patted her hand, she went completely still. In the best way possible. Maybe she was getting used to all this…softer stuff. She felt an urge to hug Pearl.
The woman’s words kept her still. “Being pale doesn’t always mean poor health. With Birdie’s raven-black hair and midnight-blue eyes, her skin has always seemed startlingly white in comparison.” Pearl had an eye for details, an artist’s eye. Not only had she created the beautiful drawings proudly displayed in the Peregrines’ office, but she’d helped Birdie with sketches of dress designs.
“Mothers shouldn’t have to work so hard.” When Rosalind paused refilling their cups to frown at Minnie, Robyn knew she was talking about more than Birdie or even her own mother. Minnie was devoted to helping the Creary family and many others in town.
“Having the skills and opportunity to support ourselves is a blessing.” Felicity’s voice rose like she was addressing a crowd rather than a group of five. “Not all women are so lucky. But, yes, juggling work and family life can be challenging.”
Minnie caressed her rounded belly. “Has Birdie been sick to her stomach in the mornings?”
Robyn frowned. “Not that I’ve seen or heard.”
“That’s good. That part has been a challenge for me.”
“It was kind of you to watch the postal office,” Pearl said. “This way if Birdie wants to take a nap, she can.”
“She could even nap with her head here.” Penny tapped the counter. “Like Grandpa Gus so often does.”
“Is he with Birdie and Daphne?” Rosalind’s gaze went to the carpentry shop.
“No, he’s at Ezra’s ranch. For the entire day.”
“That will make it even easier for Birdie to relax.” Penny released a wry chuckle. “Gus can be a handful to keep an eye on.”
“What happened after Birdie went upstairs to bed? Did you get to talk to Max then?” Felicity’s determination to hear everything about Robyn and Max remained strong.
“Jack said he had work to do behind the barn. Max who’d been casting dark looks at my brother for leaving Denver, volunteered himself and Heddwyn to go with Jack and help him.”
Pearl patted her hand again. “And you didn’t go with them because you were still worried about Birdie and didn’t want to leave her alone in the house with only Gus.”
She’d turned into the worst nervous nelly imaginable. She tried to shift the conversation like she’d seen Felicity do today. “I wonder what Jack’s working on? When I arrived a few days ago and stabled Caradoc, I couldn’t see anything but trees behind the Peregrines’ barn.”
“The view’s no different from the back of our boarding house.” Rosalind filled the last cup, returned the kettle to the stove, and resumed her seat. “There’s only that row of thick spruce and tall pine.”
“Why hasn’t Jack cut them down for his carpentry?” Robyn asked.
Penny’s eyes shone with pride. “Charlie said the town founders decided to leave certain trees as windbreaks from the storms.”
Penny’s husband was a forward-thinking leader. From all the stories Robyn had heard, she knew he was the best man to be mayor even if some in town said differently.
“And there’s nothing beyond those trees but snow.” Minnie shrugged. “At least, the last I saw or heard.” She and her husband had recently moved to a new house high on the bluff. They probably had a view of the entire town.
“Enough about trees,” Felicity said. “What about your dance lessons?”
The change in topic made her thoughts spin. Was this part of her conversation training? She stifled her sigh. “I’ve tried twice, but Fina’s been too busy both times.”
“That’s why you helped Fina yesterday,” Penny said.
“She’s been so generous in offering me lessons, like you’ve all been, that I…” she trailed off when she saw all of her teachers nodding as if they already knew. “How did you know about my helping Fina? Or that I asked for dance lessons?”
Rosalind winked at her. “Talk spreads fast in small towns.”
And between families and friends who weren’t keeping secrets. After Robyn meet Jane at the diner yesterday, Jane must have told Rosalind, and then Rosalind had told everyone in this room.
Robyn snorted a laugh, then apologized for the unladylike sound. “Noelle’s different than what I’m used to. My brothers and I have always lived in cities.”
“It’s an admirable accomplishment,” Pearl said. “How your brothers raised you when they were really no more than children themselves.”
“Enough about the past. Let’s look to the future.” Felicity jumped to her feet. “Ladies, shall we proceed to the next step?”
Pearl’s hand closed around hers. Robyn couldn’t resist her gentle pull, off her seat and around to Pearl’s side of the counter. “We’re taking to you see Fina.”
She dug in her heels. “I can’t leave.”
Penny claimed Robyn’s seat. “Gus also taught me the basics about the post.”
Minnie moved her stool closer to Penny. “The two of us will handle this office while you’re away.”
Pearl and Rosalind linked arms with her and turned her toward Felicity who stood by the front door.
“While we three”—Felicity gestured to Pearl, Rosalind and herself—“assist Nacho with his customers, so Fina has time to teach you dancing. We organized it all before we came here.”
Their forethought and friendship overwhelmed and thrilled her. She was finally going to learn how to dance. If she mastered the activity, she stood a better chance of impressing Max at the Christmas party and—
Behind her, a loud screech made her whip around. Daphne stood in the carpentry shop’s doorway. Her eyes were wide and panic-stricken.
Dread obliterated Robyn’s happy hopes.
“Birdie’s—” Daphne gasped, then her voice rose with incredulity. “Collapsed.”
Robyn raced toward her.
“Minnie, stay here and help them. The rest of you, come with me.” Felicity’s orders bounced off the walls behind Robyn. “We must find Doctor Deane.”
Daphne stumbled back inside the shop. Robyn followed her, nearly stepping on her heels. To where Birdie lay on the floor. Eyes closed. Face white as death.
She fell to her knees beside her. Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t see or breathe. She fumbled to find Birdie’s hand. When she did, she clutched her limp fingers like they were a lifeline.
Birdie suddenly clasped her hand tight. “What am I doing on the floor?”
“You said you were tired and then you—” Daphne’s voice broke.
“You finally lay down for a nap,” Robyn teased, praying that was all that had happened.
When she swiped the tears from her eyes, she saw Daphne nodding in agreement or at least in hope. The milliner’s lips formed a determined line as she grabbed a roll of fabric and placed it gently beneath Birdie’s head.
Her actions prompted Robyn to ask, “Are you cold or thirsty? Can we get you a blanket or some water?”
“Can you get—?” Despite the evenness in Birdie’s voice, her hand shook in Robyn’s grasp. “Jack”
What if she worsened while she was gone? What if this was their last moment together? Daphne could go. Her gaze went to her.
Daphne opened her mouth, then closed it quick, still struggling to speak.
It was up to her.
“I’ll find him,” Robyn vowed. She bolted out the back door toward the barn. Caradoc could carry her more swiftly around town. To wherever Jack was hauling freight. Or even to Ezra’s ranch if Jack had gone early to pick
up Gus.
Her ragged breathing muffled the crunch of her footsteps striking the packed snow path. Her blood pounded in her temples and ears. Her hands slipped on the barn door as she tried to yank it open. The fumble halted her long enough to hear the hammering in the air.
The beat called to her with a reassuring familiarity. She froze as she strove to pinpoint its source. Somewhere beyond the barn, where there was only a row of evergreen trees, where last night Jack had said he was going to work.
She leapt off the path and battled her way through the deep unbroken snow. She silently cursed it, and her dress, for slowing her progress. Every breath had become essential to keep her legs moving. Her lungs burned with each stride.
When she reached the back of barn, she glimpsed another trodden path. It led from the rear door straight to the trees. If she’d seen that door when she’d been inside the barn with Gus, she’d have known to go through the barn not around it.
She’d lost valuable time. Birdie was counting on her speedy return with Jack. She kept moving. She couldn’t hear the hammering above her labored breathing. It might have halted, but she wouldn’t.
Only when she gained the path, did she glimpse the tunnel through the trees ahead. The shadowy arch pulled her like a beacon. The sweet scent of spruce and fresh cut wood enveloped her. The trimmed branches barely brushed her as she raced through their shade.
She burst into the light. Her feet and gaze climbed the rise of snow, up the trodden path to a house. With no door or windows. With a lot of other missing pieces. With no people in sight.
She sucked in a breath and screamed as loud as she could, “Jack!” Her voice wasn’t strong enough. Her feet weren’t fast enough. Birdie needed help and she needed— “Max!”
He barreled out of the house, dropped the hammer in his hand, and pulled her into his arms. She clutched him close and never wanted to let go.
“What’s wrong?” His voice rasped near her ear.
“Birdie.”
Footsteps pounded down the path behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. Jack sprinted through trees, racing toward the office.
Robyn- A Christmas Bride Page 8