Page 9
Tapping them against her desk, she worked her lip as she stared at the feminine writing.
A faint scent of rose oil wafted from one.
These were other women’s answers to Isaac’s ad.
It was her responsibility to place them in his box.
Mr. Sullivan had left the mail-order ads and correspondence in Rebekah’s hands.
It was the right thing to do.
But still, she hesitated.
Ed would arrive soon. He always checked for mail coming to the McGraws. Her hand trembled as she began to slide the letters into the box.
A wagon rattled past the window, then slowed.
Ed.
She jerked the letters back. Next time. She could put the letters in the box next time she was in town. A little delay wasn’t a deception. Her hurried steps retreated toward her desk.
He’d step inside the office any minute.
Her shin clanked against the bottom drawer of her desk, still open from earlier. She bent to drop the letters in the drawer with shaking hands, shooting a glance out the window as she stood back up. With her foot, she slammed the bottom drawer shut.
She had to hurry.
She didn’t want a chance to think. Didn’t want to give the guilt clogging her chest time to settle.
If she locked up and met Ed outside, he wouldn’t have time to retrieve mail anyway.
She lifted her skirt as she hurried up the stairs, then gathered her things and came back down, breathing quickly, to settle them at the front door.
Then she grabbed up the satchel she’d left beneath her desk.
One jerk on the door had the bell ringing as loud as her jangling nerves.
She flipped the lock, pulling the door shut behind her.
Her heart pounded in her ears as she scanned the boardwalk.
Ed was tying off the wagon just down the street from the newspaper office.
She’d made it.
* * *
Ed lifted the hoof of the sorrel mare. She’d favored this leg after he’d turned onto the main street.
There was the problem. A pebble had lodged in her hoof.
“Don’t worry. I know it’s uncomfortable, ol’ girl—I’ll get it out of there.” Ed worked to soothe the mare. No doubt the pebble in her hoof irritated as much as, well, having Rebekah sitting next to him on the box seat and wanting to battle with words all the way home.
He pulled out his pocketknife to scrape the loose debris from the hoof. As soon as he picked up Rebekah, he’d be ready to turn around for the trip home. If he were lucky, he might get to his cabin while he still had enough daylight to work on the other cradle.
He straightened after sorting out the horse’s hoof.
“Ed. Over here.”
He spun to find Jeb Nelson waving him over to the new shop next door to the newspaper. Ed glanced back at the newspaper office window before tying off the wagon. He could see Rebekah gathering up her things. She could wait another minute or two. Last time he’d had to wait on her.
He strode down the boardwalk to the shop next door, where Jeb extended a hand.
“Good to see you again. This is Mrs. Caroline Wilson.” Jeb shifted his gaze to the woman beside him. “This is Ed McGraw. He’s the one I told you about. He built the cradle.”
Mrs. Wilson fixed a kind smile on Ed. She had to be about his age. “I’ve heard wonderful things about your carpentry skills. And when I visited Clarissa, I saw the cradle. Your craftsmanship really impressed me.”
“Thank you.” Ed shifted under the praise, even as it bolstered a hidden part of himself. If only his brothers could hear her, maybe then they’d understand that his carpentry was viable.
“I’m opening up a new bakery here.” The woman turned to usher them into the storefront.
“The plan is to open in another month, but I’m going to need some display cases.
The cost to ship them in is a bit much. Besides, I’m wanting quality.
I was hoping you’d be willing to make one for me.
We could do it on a contract basis. If I like it, I’ll need two more. ”
She wanted quality. He could give her that.
Display cases in a prominent shop in town meant a validation of his business.
But it also meant a huge time commitment.
Ed raised his hat to comb his hand through his hair.
The long list of chores at home ran through his brain. “How soon would you be wanting it?”
“Can you get me the first one in two weeks? Or less?” Mrs. Wilson walked around the open area of the empty shop. “If things go well with the bakery, I’m wanting to fill this space with tables and chairs for folks to eat at. One display case may turn into a good-sized order. What do you say?”
Jeb grinned from behind Mrs. Wilson. All Ed’s dreams of breaking into furniture building full-time were staring him in the face. He pushed back his mental to-do list for the homestead.
If he sealed the deal with this display case, he’d have all the orders he needed to convince Drew this was viable.
“It’s a deal.” Ed held out his hand to shake on it. “Let me take a few measurements.”
Once he finished hashing out the specifics, Ed tucked the notes he’d made into his pocket. He said his goodbyes, then headed back down the boardwalk. Only then did he remember Rebekah.
She sat atop the wagon with her hands folded in her lap. He was sure to hear about how long he’d taken.
He hurried his steps. As he neared the wagon, he shot a glance up at her.
Rebekah was smiling to herself with a notebook on her lap, her focus trained on something in the distance, as if thinking.
Not a word about how late he was. He shrugged it off as he moved to untie the horses from the hitching post.
Reins in hand, he hoisted himself onto the wagon seat. “You ready?”
“Mmmm.” Rebekah now held a notebook in her hand, scribbling away without paying him a whit of attention. Hardly the confrontation he’d expected. Was today his lucky day?
The tossing of the wagon along the street jostled him closer to her, sending a tingle along his arm. He shifted to put distance between them as she swiveled the writing away from him. What was she writing that was so confounded secret?
Ed looked back to the street in time to dodge a wagon in front of the doctor’s office.
He craned his neck. There’d been a group of cowhands milling around there when he’d pulled into town.
As he shifted his focus back to the road, Rebekah twisted to peek back at the same wagon.
Then she turned to settle herself, scribbling more notes.
“You seem awful interested in that wagon.” Ed hitched his thumb back toward the doctor’s as they rode past the edge of town.
“Mm-hmm.” She kept writing.
“What happened?” Much as he hated to admit it, her indifference gnawed at him.
“A bunch of cowboys brought a man to the doctor.” Her blue eyes flashed at him now. “Marshal O’Grady was there.”
“Figure you got yourself a real story, eh?” It all made sense now.
“Did you recognize any of the men we just drove by, the ones in front of the doctor’s office?”
Was it him, or had she just lit up like a kerosene lamp as she’d asked the question?
“I recognized a wagon with horses from the Billings ranch. Saw some ranch hands milling around. If a man got hurt, I’m not sure that’s newsworthy.
” Ed rubbed his shirt sleeve across his forehead. The June sun beat mercilessly today.
“What would you know about whether it’s newsworthy?” After a huff, she went back to scribbling. Just like in school.
Even way back then, she’d sat at her desk writing, oblivious to everything going on around her.
One day she’d been scribbling away, curls falling across her desk as she’d tried to hide her paper.
His mouth grew a bit dry from the remembrance.
If only that schoolroom story hadn’t started all the trouble between them.
After a long while, Rebekah looked up from her scribbling. The wagon seat rattled as she shifted to face him.
“If you must know, the rancher was attacked along the road, according to the crowd. By a bandit. Maybe even the same one who burned down the cabin or robbed the stagecoach. And that is a story people want to read.” She jabbed the pencil in his direction before returning to her notepad.
“Sullivan letting you report on it?” So that’s what all the smug grins were about. As if Rebekah needed to get involved with outing criminals. “Why isn’t he covering it?”
Rebekah shifted herself to sit up a little taller, tilting her chin. “Because it’s my job.”
“I thought your job was handling matrimonial ads and such.” He could imagine her poking her nose where it didn’t belong. Rebekah wasn’t the kind of person who gave up. Their schoolroom grudge was testament enough to that.
“What do you know about my job?” Her tone grew indignant.
“What kind of injuries?” he pressed.
“I couldn’t see,” she said, still sounding miffed. “They carried him into the doc’s office.”
“If this bandit caused injuries enough that the rancher needed a doctor, you’d better let Mr. Sullivan handle it.” Maybe he could get her to see how dangerous this might be.
“You, Ed McGraw, are not my keeper.” Her blue eyes flashed at him before she tilted that chin of hers again.
“I may not be your keeper, but I made a promise to your uncle.” Even now, the words tasted like ash in his mouth.
“We both know you didn’t want to.”
He pulled the reins up short as they rounded the road. For once, he had the perfect reply, but the words were lost as he stopped in front of the ambling cattle in the road. “You leave the gate open?”
“Of course I didn’t leave the gate open.” Her words were laced with scorn. “Maybe the fence was knocked down.”
Ed scooted as if to light from the wagon when he spotted the break in the fence, near the road. From where he sat, the fence appeared to be leaning over, almost as if the fenceposts had been pushed over on each side. Maybe a cow could have done it, but…
“Drew and I went over this fence last week. We checked every inch of it.” Ed leaned forward. He lowered his hand to reach for his rifle, even as he scanned the area for any sign of another rider.
“What are you looking at?” Rebekah leaned into his line of sight with her brows all pinched together.
He scanned the fields. They were empty except for the cattle.
“Any sign of a troublemaker.” There was nothing obvious. He lowered the rifle, focusing back on Rebekah. “Seems I remember a certain person’s comments on a woman being alone out here.”
A shadow of contemplation skittered across her features, then left.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She scooted to lower herself off the wagon seat. “It’s cattle. They get out of fences, you put them back in.”
Little good it would do to argue with the likes of Rebekah. He jumped from the wagon and rounded it to face her. “We need to circle around to the sides of the cattle and drive them back in. You go right. I’ll go left.”
Rebekah tilted her head, one curl draping over her shoulder as she did. “It’s muddier there. I’ll go left.”
The woman would argue with a stump.
She gathered up her skirt and marched off to the left. Ed tightened his jaw. Best to get this done and get her delivered home. But as they pushed to get the cattle back in the fence, the animals weren’t having it. No matter how hard he and Rebekah worked, one ornery heifer refused to cooperate.
“Let’s get the others corralled in here, then I’ll go after that heifer.” Ed waved his hands above his head, chasing the cattle they’d rounded up farther into the fenced-off field.
Once he had them settled away from the opening, he spun to tell Rebekah to watch the break in the fence while he rounded up the last cow, but she was nowhere to be found.
He’d nearly made it back to the road without sight of Rebekah when he spotted the heifer coming from behind the wagon. The cow was heading straight for him.
He stepped out of the way as the cow lumbered past him into the field. Rebekah came from the side, grinning with triumph despite the mud she’d been fussing about splattered across her dress. She herded the cow through the break in the fence, acting as if she had single-handedly saved the day.
“I thought I told you to stand back by the fence.” He didn’t want to admit how much her hard work impressed him. She could be the most stubborn and infuriating woman.
Ed leaned over to secure the fence, looping the loose wire in place until he could get the tools he’d need to make a more permanent fix. Rebekah leaned close against the post where she’d been helping him with the wire.
A loose tendril of hair clung to the mud splashed across her face.
Her fair skin glowed from the exertion of having chased the cattle.
Stubborn, infuriating…and beautiful. He swallowed hard.
What if things had been different back in school?
What if he hadn’t laughed at her story and riled up the class to do the same?
“Are you going to stand here all day?” Rebekah pushed off the fence to start for the wagon. “I’d like to get home before dark.”
Her words snapped Ed out of his thoughts.
He tried not to show how shaken he was as he climbed atop the wagon, where Rebekah had already situated herself.
Once in the seat, he drove the last bit to the Boutwell farm.
He kept his focus forward. Blessedly, Rebekah didn’t speak for the small distance until she alighted from the wagon in front of the farmhouse.
“Good evening.” Her voice trailed off as she hurried up the steps, leaving muddy footprints behind.
Ed turned the wagon toward home. He didn’t need any more errant thoughts jumbling his brain. He sent one last look over his shoulder to see her let herself safely into the house. He was tired and hungry. That was all.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9 (Reading here)
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39