Page 25 of A Steadfast Heart (Wind River Mail-Order Brides #2)

It simply has to be Isaac McGraw.

Rebekah Edwards stood at the kitchen window and strained her eyes to make out the identity of the driver approaching the farmhouse. Her heart beat out a fluttering rhythm. If Isaac drove to town, she’d add each minute of the long ride to her collective memories of every move he had ever made in her presence.

But the man’s hat was down, and the morning sun coming through the kitchen windowpane blurred the figure on the wagon seat. He sat broad-shouldered, muscles flexing as he halted in front of the house.

If only his head would tilt to reveal Issac, his eyes the deep green of the pine trees and his dimpled smile so endearing. She hadn’t seen him in town recently, but she was still holding out hope.

“Are you listening, Rebekah? I don’t want to leave you here alone. Not with all the rumors about Quade’s men.” Aunt Opal’s words pulled Rebekah’s stare from the window. The men’s voices were muffled through the wall.

Despite her excitement at the possibility of seeing Isaac, nothing in Rebekah relished being separated from her aunt and uncle. She’d lived with them on this farm since coming west over fifteen years ago at the tender age of eleven. While she stayed by herself in the loft over the newspaper office in Calvin during part of each week due to the distance, she’d never stayed on the farm alone. Rumors of Quade and his men harassing local farmers until they agreed to sell their land didn’t help matters any.

“I can’t leave the paper. It wouldn’t make it a month without me.” Rebekah leaned against the kitchen counter, cluttered with the meat and cheese her aunt was preparing for sandwiches, as she folded the checkered cloth around the loaf of freshly baked bread. Her statement held no bravado, only the bitter truth.

She’d worked at her beloved paper since the summer after she’d graduated from school, and it was struggling. If it didn’t turn around soon, there’d be nothing for Mr. Sullivan to leave her. If she lost her paper, she’d lose her dream of independence.

Aunt Opal’s brows knit together, further deepening the lines of worry as she layered the sandwiches together, working on the little counter space that remained. “I don’t understand how you staying is going to make it better.”

The yeasty scent of the bread tempted Rebekah as she shoved the loaf into the basket. How would she stretch it out for as many days as possible, this hug in a loaf? It would be all she had of her aunt’s cooking for a long while. She stepped closer to Opal, looping her arm around the petite woman’s shoulders. This woman who’d been closer to her than her own mother all these years.

“We’ve added a special section to take on more matrimonial ads. They’re my specialty. Mr. Sullivan left them totally in my hands. I even convinced a larger paper to run them for broader circulation.” She leaned in to give her aunt a squeeze in an effort to silence her arguments. Rebekah didn’t need to add her aunt’s concerns to her own worries about looking after the garden, the canning, and the endless list of chores inside the house as well as performing her duties at the newspaper. At least their closest neighbors, the McGraws, had agreed to help with the livestock.

Opal’s weary smile faded. “Mind you, I don’t want you talking to Quade while we’re gone.”

Rebekah suspected the fire in her aunt’s voice hid a mountain of worries. For their homestead. For Uncle Vess. For Rebekah. Not to mention the trip east. It echoed Rebekah’s own worries of staying here alone. The ones she’d been pushing aside for the sake of her dreams.

Opal cast another glance her way. The creases between her brows deepened as if she’d been reading Rebekah’s thoughts. “And if he ever shows up here, you go get the McGraw brothers.”

Heath Quade had been by more than once to make an offer on their place. The first one had made Rebekah whistle, which had garnered a scolding from Aunt Opal for being unladylike. The second one had come with a veiled threat. Rebekah hadn’t heard it herself, but she had no reason to doubt Uncle Vess’s word.

“I doubt Quade will come here while you’re gone. I likely won’t even see him unless he does something worthy of a news article.” Not that Rebekah would mind going to get one particular McGraw, even if she could handle Mr. Quade on her own.

“You and that paper.” Aunt Opal’s weathered hands settled the sandwiches for her and Uncle Vess’s train trip in another basket. “Make sure you weed the vegetable garden. Watch out for that hen that tries to slip out of the coop.” She glanced up from shuffling the sandwiches. “And lock the door at night.”

All of Aunt Opal’s talk meant more than the words she spoke. It meant she would miss Rebekah and worry about her. That she loved her. In a funny sort of way, the words wrapped themselves around Rebekah tighter than any hug ever could. She stepped closer to enclose the woman in her arms.

“What’s all this?” Aunt Opal’s words wobbled with emotion.

Rebekah leaned closer to her ear. “A little something to remind you of me while you’re gone.”

Aunt Opal gave Rebekah’s arm a squeeze before backing away to swipe at a tear with the back of her other hand. “We’ll be back, you know. Before you have time to even miss us.”

“I doubt that.” I miss you already.

Opal sniffed, then straightened. “Doesn’t your uncle know it’s high time for us to be leaving? I wish he wouldn’t overwork himself walking all around giving out instructions. As if the McGraws don’t know their way around a farm.”

“Stop your worrying, Opal.” Dear Uncle Vess leaned his lanky form into the doorway, blocking the view outside as another cough racked his body. “Everything is loaded but us. And whatever delicious-smelling bread you have there.”

Rebekah’s brow furrowed at his cough as she picked up the loaf and placed it in her makeshift bag. She had everything she’d need to remain in town for a day or two. Her regular trips to help oversee things at the newspaper office were usually a source of joy to her. If only her aunt and uncle weren’t catching a train. The only source of joy today, putting butterflies in her stomach, was the hope of Isaac driving them.

She’d thought she’d grown out of the feelings she’d held for him back when she’d attended the one-room schoolhouse with Isaac and his brothers. Until the day she’d caught a glimpse of him returning to town after serving as a marshal. He’d still exuded all the manliness of a genuine hero, striding from the train station to meet his brother Ed. No one else lived up to the legendary Isaac McGraw. Not back in school. Not now.

Rebekah smoothed her dark woolen skirt with one hand as she grasped her bag in the other, then followed her aunt out into the sunlight. She angled her free hand under her hat to shield her eyes as the McGraw near the wagon turned to greet them.

“Morning, Mrs. Boutwell.”

Not Isaac.

A lock of mahogany hair escaped beneath the edge of Ed McGraw’s hat as he greeted Aunt Opal with a nod. Awkward seconds passed before he offered a faint “Miss Edwards.”

Rebekah stiffened. Him. Hmph. Had no one else noticed the drop in his voice when he’d finally said her name? Did they ever notice his slights? Two weeks ago, he’d been by to change out a wagon wheel for Uncle Vess. She must have stood by the wagon for half an hour before Ed had acknowledged her only to refuse the lemonade Aunt Opal had insisted she take out to him. Infuriating man.

“I’ll load that for you.” He motioned to her satchel.

“I can do it.” She attempted to pull her satchel back from his reach, but not before his fingers brushed hers as they tightened around the handle, leaving her bristling.

Ed tightened his jaw. He didn’t glance her way as she let go. She knew that tic of his. He was none too happy to see her either.

“How is Isaac?” The words left her mouth unplanned.

Her aunt and uncle gave her a curious look.

“Haven’t seen him in a few days.” Ed flicked a glance her way as he pursed his lips. He placed her satchel under the seat with the other bags, then walked to the back of the wagon. He held out a hand to Aunt Opal. “I put in some hay to make the ride more comfortable.”

“You are too kind to an old woman’s aching bones.” Aunt Opal stepped toward him and slipped her hand in his.

Ignored again. Rebekah rolled her eyes to avoid the distraction of his muscled arms hoisting her aunt into the wagon. The very arms she had so easily envisioned belonging to Isaac earlier.

Vess handed the basket of food to his wife once she was settled, then turned to face Ed. “You will look after Rebekah, won’t you?”

“I’m a grown woman, Uncle Vess. I can look after myself.” Rebekah’s words fell on deaf ears as her uncle kept his eyes trained on Ed. Neither of them acknowledged her.

“My brothers and I will look after the place,” Ed hedged.

She barely held in a snort. Uncle Vess might as well forget getting a promise out of Ed to look after her. Which suited her just fine.

Vess lingered by the side of the wagon, his hand running across the top board. “Promise me you’ll be sure she gets to town and back safely. You’re a man of your word, and I trust you.”

“I’ll check with Drew to see if he can spare me.” Ed half mumbled the words, the way he’d always mumbled when the teacher had asked about missing homework back in school. He didn’t want to drive her any more than she wanted him to.

“Rebekah is precious to me.” Vess coughed again.

She swallowed hard, fighting the pull of concern over his illness that she’d been trying so hard to tamp down, at least until they got to the train. One quick turn of her head, and Ed’s stormy glance her way stilled the rising swell of tears, filling her with resolve.

“Don’t be silly, Uncle Vess. I’m perfectly capable of saddling up a horse and riding to town.” Surely her assurance would ease his mind and end this.

Rebekah shot a pleading look at her uncle, but his focus held on Ed. A man-to-man sort of stare-down, as if Ed owed him this and he was calling in his favors. Ed broke the stare.

“You McGraws have been good neighbors to us. But it’s not Drew’s promise I’m after. I’d like your word, Ed McGraw.”

Rebekah shifted her gaze from the men to the horses in an effort to control her rising frustration. Uncle Vess wouldn’t settle for anything but Ed’s promise.

A sigh from Ed filled the air. “No need to worry about a thing, sir. You have my word.”

Tired of waiting for Ed to offer her a hand up, Rebekah scrambled into the back of the wagon herself. Her shin clanged against the edge of the wagon, and pain shot up her leg, deepening her annoyance. She caught the twitch of Ed’s jaw before he nodded to a small container nestled in the hay. “Almost forgot. Kaitlyn sent a jar of jam for you.”

Rebekah hugged the gift from her friend close, smiling as she placed the jar in her satchel and settled herself beside her aunt atop the hay. The wagon jostled, and she looked behind her to the front of the wagon. Her gaze connected with Ed’s as he hoisted himself onto the seat. She felt her smile fading to match his expression, and she could almost read his mind.

It’s going to be a long summer.

And for once in her life, she agreed with him.