Читать книгу Flint Hills Bride - Cassandra Austin - Страница 8

That night Jake lay on his bed in his parents’ frame house not far from the Prescotts’ stone mansion and studied the window-shaped moonlight on the ceiling. Why was he in love with Emily? Of course he had asked himself the same question many times over the years. There had never been a satisfactory answer.

Why shouldn’t he be in love with her? Now there was a question with plenty of answers. His family worked for hers, for one. Her family was rich, and he was a two-dollars-a-day deputy. She was a city girl who played at being a rancher in the summer and on holidays. He was a country boy who would be lost in the city and make a fool of himself at any fancy social event.

And it wasn’t as if she were perfect. She was more than a little spoiled, moderately lazy and very mouthy. Of course her sharp tongue had always been witty enough to be entertaining. He had usually felt he held his own in their verbal sparring.

Maybe she wasn’t really lazy. He only saw her when she was on vacation. Her family had bragged about her high marks in school, and he assumed she worked for the grades. She was actually quite an accomplished horsewoman, and, according to his mother, wonderful with Christian’s lively children.

Jake groaned and rolled to his side. Soon he would be convincing himself that she wasn’t really spoiled, that she simply deserved all the attention and advantages she had gotten all her life.

The whys and why-nots of his feelings didn’t change them. He wanted her. She made his pulse race simply by entering the room. She made him feel like a king when she smiled up at him. She filled his dreams.

God knows he had tried to feel the same way about other, more accessible, women. It never worked. He had compared them all to Emily, and they had all fallen short.

And now she was in love with someone else, someone totally unacceptable. God forgive him, but he had been thrilled to learn her family didn’t approve. He could feel less guilty for hating the bastard.

It was going to be hell being with her every day, knowing she was thinking about Berkeley, but it was something he had to do. He had to protect her. He told himself he wasn’t going to try to win her. He wasn’t acceptable, either. Someday he would have to watch her marry someone else.

But not now. And not Berkeley.

Emily woke early the next morning. It was Sunday, and both families would be attending a little country church. Martha would have been up early preparing a box dinner to eat at the church. She wasn’t sure if she was looking forward to seeing all her old neighbors or not.

She lay in bed listening to the soft voices coming from the other room. Lynnette was trying to keep Willa quiet, but it was impossible. The girl chattered nearly every waking moment.

Emily smiled as a few of the child’s words reached her. “But Aunt Emily…” and “…almost Christmas!” Not the kind of things to encourage an excitable little girl to additional sleep.

She heard doors open and close and guessed Lynnette had gone into the nursery to get Trevor. After a few minutes of Willa’s hushed chatter the little group went downstairs.

Emily considered getting up and joining them for breakfast, but she hated breakfast. In fact, just thinking about it made her feel queazy. And sharing the table with the two little ones last night didn’t make her eager to repeat the experience. Oh, they were lovely children; in fact, they were adorable. But they were more than she could handle this early in the morning.

“What I have to look forward to,” she muttered, then wished she hadn’t. She wasn’t sure yet.

She sat up in bed and fought back a wave of dizziness. “It’s too early to get up,” she muttered, holding her head. But the spell passed quickly.

After slipping into her robe, she crossed the room in her bare feet. She would write to Anson. She would address it in care of his family; they would see that he got it. Somehow she would figure out how to get the letter to the post office.

With pen and paper she told him how much she loved him and missed him. She tried to relate how much she wanted them to be together, how she would be there with him if it were possible.

She didn’t tell him about the baby. She needed to be sure then tell him in person. She didn’t know how he would react. He had never mentioned marriage, though it had seemed to be understood between them. Still, it wasn’t something she should tell him in a letter.

She did tell him, however, that she was confident he would soon be released, and, if not for her family’s obstinacy, they would be together.

She wrote that she was staying with her brother, where the ranch was located, and how, from a certain direction, it was almost hidden by a hill. She described a spot where a trail behind the barn curved around the hillside. She promised to walk there every morning and think of him.

An hour later the carefully worded letter was finished. She left it on the desk and dressed and fixed her hair. When she was ready to go downstairs, she reread the letter, hoping it said what she needed it to, and folded and sealed it.

How was she to get it to town? Christian had said she was forbidden to contact Anson. Lynnette wasn’t likely to defy her husband. Besides, she was so burdened with children she was next to no help. Martha or her husband, Perry? Too loyal to Christian.

Jake. His connection with her family was certainly less than his parents’. Would he sneak it into town for her? Did she dare ask him? He had made it clear, in spite of his apology, what he thought of Anson. Still he was her best hope.

She slipped the letter into the bodice of her dress, checking herself in the mirror to make sure it didn’t show. Before she turned away she caught a glimpse of her face and stopped. Her eyes looked almost haunted. She forced a smile to her lips and blinked away the fear. If not for the constant worry, she could believe that being in love was good for her complexion. She almost glowed.

She started to turn toward the door, laughing off the silly thought when something else occurred to her. She hadn’t imagined the look on Jake’s face last night. He had feelings for her. Could she use them? She stared at her reflection. It seemed so dishonest, so…cruel. Yet.

She pictured herself on her wedding day, walking down the aisle while the guests snickered at her rounded belly. She couldn’t wait until her family came to their senses. With a seductive wink at her reflection, she turned away.

The open stairway was situated in the center of the house, and Emily could look down on both the living room and dining room as she descended. Lynnette was in the living room retying a bow at the back of Willa’s dress while the girl chattered an explanation of how it had come undone. Trevor sat on Martha’s lap watching his sister with devoted attention.

Lynnette had just turned the little girl around and kissed her on the cheek when Emily entered the room. “Emily, dear,” she said, moving to greet her. “We were going to let you sleep. Of course, we’d love to have you join us.”

“Thanks,” she said as Willa came to take her hand. “I’ll go along and keep my niece occupied. I’ll see if I can make her giggle aloud in church.”

“No. Not me. I’ll make you giggle.”

Their tickling match was interrupted by Christian’s announcement that the buggy was ready. Wrapped in coats and hats, the women and children crowded into the seat while the men mounted horses to ride alongside.

Emily caught a glimpse of Jake as she settled Trevor on her lap, but he rode enough behind that she didn’t see him again until they arrived. He helped his mother out of the buggy and, with his father, escorted her into the little stone church.

Through the service and the lunch that followed, she was never successful at catching his eye. She was conscious always of the stiff letter tucked inside her bodice.

Finally the families began to repack their dishes, gather up their children and start for home. Both Willa and Trevor were asleep by the time they reached the ranch. Lynnette carried Trevor up to his bed while Christian carried Willa inside. She awoke as soon as the warm air hit her. Christian left her in Emily’s care and went out to take care of the horses.

“Let’s play checkers,” Willa suggested.

Emily agreed. There was little else she could do. Jake was no doubt helping with the horses, but if she went out to find him now, she would also find Christian. Jake would probably spend the rest of the day close to his family. Her chances of delivering the letter were almost nonexistent.

By the time Willa had the game board set up, Lynnette joined them in the living room. She offered to play the winner, giving Emily an excuse to beg off. Willa didn’t seem to mind, and Emily, pleading a headache, escaped to her room.

Upstairs Emily pulled the letter from the bodice of her dress. How was she going to get it to Jake? Of course, even if she found a way, there was no guarantee he would agree to take it to the post office.

Feeling depressed, she dropped the letter onto her desk and removed her dress and shoes. She hadn’t intended to sleep, but now that she was alone she found herself feeling increasingly tired. In a very short time she was asleep and didn’t awaken until nearly supper time.

Martha was given the afternoon off on Sundays, and Emily found Lynnette in the kitchen preparing the evening meal. Both children were there offering their own brands of help. Emily gathered Trevor into her arms, but he decided to be shy and cried for his mother. Emily handed him to Lynnette and took over the cooking instead.

In short order the simple meal was ready, and they moved into the dining room to set the table and wait for Christian.

“I’m glad you came with us this morning, Emily,” Lynnette said as they laid out plates and forks. “It went a long way to relieving Christian’s mind.”

“Was he afraid I’d run away while you were gone?”

Lynnette laughed, startling her. “No, I don’t know as that occurred to him. He just imagined you moping around here all day. He doesn’t think that would be good for you.”

Emily straightened the place setting in front of her, avoiding Lynnette’s eyes. “I decided that time would pass more quickly if I was busy. Anson and I may not be together any sooner, but it’ll seem like it.”

Lynnette didn’t respond and in a few minutes Christian joined them. The children required considerable attention during the meal, and Emily was left in peace. Later, she volunteered to do the dishes, shooing the family into the other room. Once the dining room and the kitchen were put back in order, she returned to her room, using an exciting novel as an excuse.

In her room, she found herself too keyed up to read. Instead she paced until she was tired enough to sleep.

The children woke Emily again the next morning. She listened to them go down the stairs and fought off a queazy feeling she was beginning to associate with the thought of breakfast People weren’t intended to get up this early, she decided. She lay in bed for a long time, plotting how she was going to talk to Jake alone. She would do it today if she had to help with chores herself, she decided.

Then she went over just what she might say to him, and what his response might be. She hoped to prepare herself with a convincing plea against any possible argument.

Finally she realized her planning had become an excuse to put off the doing and rose. Still she found herself taking her time getting dressed, wishing for some sudden flash of insight that would lead her to just the right words to convince Jake.

Before she left her room, she slipped the letter into the bodice of her dress as she had the day before. She had a brief picture of her doing that every morning from now till Christmas. No. She would get the letter to Jake today.

As she descended the stairs she noticed that both rooms below her were empty. She walked through the dining room to the kitchen, expecting to find Lynnette and the children there. Martha was alone.

“Where is everyone?” she asked, peering over Martha’s shoulder at the bread she was kneading. She watched for a chance to grab a pinch of the yeasty dough. It was now late morning, and she was hungry.

“They’re downstairs.”

“Downstairs? You mean down-downstairs?” She brought her prize to her mouth and sucked her fingers. “You mean in the ballroom?”

“It’s more like a playroom, now,” Martha said.

Emily wanted to groan. The house had been built on a hillside with the middle floor at ground level in back. That and the top floor were the only parts of the house that were used regularly. The lowest level, with its bay windows overlooking the valley had been intended for entertaining. It had been built to please her mother, who hadn’t stayed very long.

She considered going down but knew she had a much better chance of seeing Jake right here in the kitchen, since this was where he would come when his chores were done. Martha gratefully accepted her offer of help. Besides dinner preparations, Martha was starting the stew for supper. Emily spent the next hour cleaning and cutting vegetables saved from the fall garden.

She had discovered a few years back that she enjoyed cooking. The warmth of the kitchen and the pleasant smells were very relaxing. She found herself humming as she chopped.

She stopped midphrase when the door opened to admit Christian, Jake and Perry. A cold breeze came in with them, and she shivered. After she and Martha had greeted them all, she discovered Jake’s eyes on her and felt herself warm too quickly. No, it was just the heat from the stove dispelling the chill.

Jake, his eyes still on her, grabbed Christian’s arm. “What’s she doing in the kitchen?” he whispered in awe.

Christian chuckled. “Strange sight, I know.”

“I’m cutting up vegetables for tonight’s stew.” She managed to sound irritated even though they made her want to laugh. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

He removed his hat and came slowly toward her. “You’re in the kitchen, Emily. Working.”

She glared at him, aware of an audience. “And?”

He stopped near her, bringing cool air with him. Emily felt it caress her warm cheeks. She hadn’t realized how much heat the stove was putting out until the past few moments.

“Are you feeling all right?” he asked.

She wondered if her face was flushed then realized he was still teasing her about working. “I’ll have you know,” she began, pointing at him with the tip of her knife, “I’ve become quite handy in the kitchen.”

“I’m impressed.” He grinned at her as he shed his coat. Instead of taking it and his hat to the hooks in the back hall, he leaned against the counter beside her. “You even kind of enjoy it, don’t you?”

She returned her attention to the chopping board, giving him a brief nod. When he didn’t move away, she looked up to find him watching her. Christian had left, presumably to hang up his coat, and Perry was helping Martha set the kitchen table for the Rawlins’s meal. She asked softly, “Can I talk to you after dinner?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll take a walk—” She had almost told him the path beyond the barn. That was where she hoped to meet Anson when he came for her. It wouldn’t do for Jake to think of it as her usual place to walk. She suggested the opposite direction. “How about meeting me past your parents’ house?”

“Fine,” he said, and moved away.

She found herself breathing easier when he was gone. She didn’t like deceiving her family, and she didn’t like using Jake. That was why she had felt breathless when he was so close. That and the knowledge that he was attracted to her.

After dinner, Emily donned her cloak and gloves and left the house. Willa had wanted to go with her, and she felt guilty about leaving her, even though it would have been impossible to take her along.

She had tried at first to dissuade the child by telling her it was too cold, but Willa had said she had a warm coat and hat. Next she said she would be walking too far for a little girl, but Willa claimed to have walked miles without getting tired. Finally Lynnette had stepped in, telling her that sometimes grown-ups needed time alone.

She knew the path she followed well enough to walk without much attention to her surroundings and quickly sank deep in thought. Guilt for disappointing the child added to what she already felt and made her miserable. She couldn’t lose courage now. Her family was giving her no choice.

She had to see Anson and tell him what she suspected. To do that, she had to mail his letter. And for that, she needed Jake.

A figure suddenly appeared in the path before her, and she stumbled back, losing her balance. A hand caught her arm, righting her before she fell. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Jake.” She sighed with relief. “I didn’t realize I had come so far.”

“You looked pretty distracted.”

His breath made little white clouds in the cold air. He still held her arm; in fact, he had stepped closer. She had been this close to him before, but couldn’t remember ever being quite so aware of him. Her stomach shivered, from the cold, she tried to tell herself, or from recently being startled. She should step away, pull herself together.

Instead she looked up into his eyes. It was a mistake. They burned into her, seared her to the core with their heat. She gasped as her body reacted.

His eyes softened immediately. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, stepping away. Of course she wasn’t all right. Nothing was all right. She wanted to scream at him for making her feel this way, but that would hardly suit her purpose.

She gave him a smile that she hoped looked shy—she didn’t dare try seductive—and said, “I have a favor to ask.”

“Then ask.” His voice was so kind she felt a new rush of guilt. She had a fleeting thought that she had never heard Anson’s voice sound like that, and quickly brushed it away.

“I have a letter I need you to post for me.”

Suspicion was easy to read in his narrowed eyes. “Why ask me? Why not your brother or whoever’s going into town?”

“Please, Jake, none of them will do it.” Quickly, before he said no, she turned around, opened her cloak and retrieved the letter from her bodice. “Here.” She heard the uncertainty and pleading in her own voice.

“Emily.” There was a plea in his voice, as well. “Don’t ask me to do this.” He closed her cloak, rebuttoning it against the cold she had barely been aware of. “Your family doesn’t want you to contact him. I don’t want you to contact him.”

“You said you wouldn’t judge him.” She thrust the letter toward him, hoping once he took it in his hand he would give in.

“I tried not to. I want the best for you, Emily. I just can’t believe he’s the best.”

“How is it your place to decide what’s best for me?” She was failing. He was too stubborn. She felt tears sting her eyes and tried to blink them away. He would think she was using them as a weapon.

“You’re right.” He lifted the letter from her fingers. “Friends need to trust each other. And count on each other. I’ll mail your letter.”

“Jake.” She threw her arms around him, pressing her cheek against his chest. “I knew I could count on you,” she murmured.

His arms encircled her, holding her closer. The tears she had held back earlier trickled down her cheek. She was warm and safe in his arms and reluctant to leave them.

Finally he drew her away. She quickly brushed the tears from her cheeks and smiled up at him. “Thanks, Jake,” she whispered.

He nodded solemnly. She thought for a moment that he would say something, but he slipped the letter into his coat pocket, stepped around her and walked away.

Jake walked into his parents’ home, knowing it was empty. His mother would be busy at the Prescotts’ until well after supper. If his father finished whatever Christian needed him to do this afternoon, he would be more likely to spend his free time with his wife in the big house than to come back here. No, he would be alone, and that suited him.

The house was dim, but he didn’t light a lamp. He stood across the room from the front window and watched for Emily to walk past. He should have taken her arm and seen her safely to her door. He should still do it.

But he couldn’t He didn’t trust himself to be that close to her. He was liable to take her into his arms and tell her he loved her. He had come too damn close already.

He saw her pass on the path, her head down, walking fast. She would be safe and warm in no time. He didn’t have to feel guilty. He took a step closer to the window, then another, to watch her until she was out of sight.

Why did he let her do this to him? He should thoroughly dislike her for falling for that jailbird, for defying her parents, for using him.

For not wanting the love he was so willing to give her.

He was a fool. It was that simple and too late to change.

He unbuttoned his coat but didn’t take it off. The room was cold, and he didn’t want to light a fire. He wouldn’t stay here long. He pulled the letter from his pocket and studied the clear, even lettering. Anson Berkeley. He wanted to destroy it, not mail it! He wanted to light that fire after all and watch the letter turn to ashes!

The violence of his reaction horrified him. He didn’t trust himself to hold on to the letter for long. He shoved it back into his pocket and rebuttoned his coat. If he left now he could make it back before dark.

Half an hour later he was riding toward town. It hadn’t been hard to convince his father that he needed to check in with his boss in Cottonwood Falls. It was an excuse he had used many times to avoid being on the ranch when Emily was expected. His mother might have been more difficult to convince, but he had left her to his father.

The cold crisp air in his face as he rode cleared his mind. He had started to harbor hopes about Emily again. The letter was a reminder that she would never be his. His purpose wasn’t to win her away from Berkeley but to protect her from him. He couldn’t do that if his mind was clouded with fantasies.

Of course, mailing this letter wasn’t a particularly good way of protecting her, either. He should never have agreed to do it. But perhaps Berkeley would get the letter and not respond. Perhaps he had already forgotten her.

Perhaps. But it wasn’t likely. This letter would probably encourage him. It might be the one thing he needed to send him out after Emily. Thank heaven, the man was in jail.

It was midafternoon when Jake rode into Strong. He posted the letter first, afraid that any delay might cause him to accidentally lose the letter. Then, still convinced he had done the wrong thing, he rode on to the river bridge and into Cottonwood Falls.

The courthouse, situated at the end of the main street, dominated the town. He rode toward it, taking in the activity on either side of him out of habit. He watered his horse at the trough before tying him and going inside.

Sheriff Tom Chaffee was in his office in the basement. He looked up from his cluttered desk when Jake walked in. “Afternoon, son. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

“I know,” Jake said, taking a seat across from his boss. “I was in town and thought I’d see if you have any word from Topeka.” Tom would know what particular news he was after.

Tom winced. “You’re not going to like this.”

Jake tried to keep his face from showing his alarm. “What?”

The spring in Tom’s chair squeaked as he rocked back. “The boy’s out. Seems his folks paid for all the damages, and the old fella agreed to drop the charges.”

“When did this happen?”

Tom took a moment before he answered. “I got word last night.”

Jake felt his temper rise and knew it was unreasonable. He hoped his boss couldn’t sense how he felt.

Tom’s next words made him think he could. “I’m a little shorthanded here to be sending someone out to the ranch with messages. Besides, you’re supposed to be on vacation, and this case is way out of our jurisdiction.”

”The police will let us know if anything else happens, won’t they?”

Tom brought his chair back to an upright position and bent over his desk. “I’m sure the Prescotts will let their son know if anything else happens.” He found his place on the form and resumed writing.

Jake had been dismissed. He rose slowly and turned toward the door.

“Oh, and Jake?”

Jake turned back. “Yes, sir?”

Tom didn’t look up. “Maybe you should concentrate on winning the little gal’s affection and forget about the competition.”

Jake paused, looking at his boss’s bent head for the space of four heartbeats. “Yes, sir,” he said, and left the office. He took the stairs two at a time, imagining his boss having a good chuckle at his expense once he was out of earshot. He shouldn’t be surprised that Tom had guessed his real interest in the case. Loyalty to the Prescott family wouldn’t be enough to make him quite so eager to see Berkeley punished.

He walked into the fresh, cold air, trying to will his frustration away. He shouldn’t expect the sheriff to send someone all the way out to the ranch at the slightest word on the case. Emily probably wasn’t in any immediate danger from Berkeley, anyway.

At least not until he got her letter.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath. He strode to his horse and mounted. All the way back through Cottonwood Falls, and across the bridge, he argued with himself. Should he try to get the letter back from the postmaster? If he did, what would he tell Emily? In the end, Emily’s trust won, and he rode past the post office and out of Strong.