Her Winding Path (Seeing Ranch series) (A Historical Romance Book) Read online

  “You go first,” Ida Rose instructed, helping the man next to her stand. He struggled to right himself, but she kept her hands firmly under his arms, encouraging him to climb the rubble. The men above hauled him out of the chaos. Then, it was Ida Rose’s turn.

  A strong, warm hand grabbed hers and pulled her easily upward. Fresh air struck her face. The wind that had felt so aggressive before now seemed Heaven-sent.

  She stood atop what had been a shop, but was now nothing more than a pile of debris, her balance teetering on a mass of boards. The man holding her tightened his grip on her elbows, helping to keep her steady.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She blinked and looked around the street. The whole block had been destroyed. She had entered the general store in a sleepy town and left it in the midst of an apocalypse. “I… I think so.”

  “Let me see your face. Can you focus on my eyes?”

  Ida Rose stared at the man holding her up, fully taking him in for the first time. His blond brows were furrowed in concern, his blue eyes raking across her face. If the present situation were not so disastrous, she would have been blushing to be in the presence of such a handsome man.

  “Yes,” she breathlessly answered.

  “Good. Come on. Let’s get you down and checked out.”

  She allowed herself to be guided down the hill of debris. The second the glorious earth greeted her feet, she wanted to fall to her knees and kiss the dirt. The earthquake was over. She had survived.

  But had everyone else?

  Tension squeezed through her at the sight of the levelled buildings. It seemed nearly a third of the town had been destroyed, the hotel included.

  The hotel.

  Ida Rose gasped. “My fiancé! I have to get to him...”

  “Your fiancé?” the blond man asked in confusion.

  The words tumbled from her lips. “Yes, to make sure he is all right. I was supposed to meet him. His name is Thomas Adkins and...”

  A man jogged by them, clapping the blond man on the shoulder. “The hotel,” he quickly said. “Daniels is hitching up horses to move the big pieces.”

  The blond man took a step backward, letting go of Ida Rose. “Go get checked out by the doctor.”

  “My fiancé,” she gasped, tears filling her eyes.

  “He’s all right. Don’t worry.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I’m him.”

  Before she could even fully process the revelation, he had turned and run off toward the wrecked hotel.

  2

  2. Tom

  Chapter Two

  Tom’s temples pounded as he lifted the heavy slab of wood and flipped it over. A patch of earth met him and, for the first time that afternoon, he sighed in relief. The board was the very last piece of destruction the earthquake had left behind. With it being moved, the task of looking for survivors was over.

  Four people had been found trapped beneath rubble, all of them alive. The worst injury had been a broken arm, which the doctor had already set. Though the earthquake itself might have been a disaster, the fact that no one in the town had died was a miracle.

  Riders had already set out in every direction, headed for the nearby farms and ranches to see if anyone in the country needed assistance.

  “You did good,” Baxter said from nearby, his face red and sweat-slicked. “Take a rest.”

  “My farm,” Tom gasped.

  Baxter wiped his brow. “It’s fine. Olson stopped by. Your mother didn’t even feel the earthquake.”

  Tom’s shoulders, which had been tense for hours, relaxed. “Thank you.”

  “Go take a rest,” Baxter repeated, sitting right down on the hotel’s wreckage.

  Tom made his way to the center of the road, every one of his muscles aching in protest. Being one of the strongest men in the area hadn’t prepared him for the frenzy of searching for survivors. Today, he’d worked at a pace he hadn’t even known he could. But it was finally all over. If the earthquake hadn’t touched his farm, there was a good chance it also hadn’t struck anyplace else outside of town.

  He trudged down the street, cutting across the late afternoon shadows. The doors of the small, white church were thrown open, inviting all who needed assistance. Women bustled around, tending to the injured and shaken and serving food and water. Only one of them sat still.

  Ida Rose Lowry perched on the edge of the second-to-last pew, staring listlessly out the window. Despite having pulled her from the remains of the general store hours earlier, her presence now almost didn’t seem real. Ida Rose. His fiancée. The woman he had ordered from back east. Connected through a mail-order bride agency, they had agreed to marry after only a few letters exchanged. He had never seen a picture of her, only having been assured by the agency that she was “quite lovely.” And now, here she was—the one good surprise in this day.

  Tom settled down in the pew behind her and she twitched with surprise.

  “I’m sorry,” he softly said.

  “I...” She swallowed hard, then gave him a forced smile. “No, I am sorry. I was… lost to my thoughts.”

  “It’s been a rough day.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Thank you. You saved me.”

  “You don’t need to thank me for that.” He had only meant to look at her brown eyes for a moment, but found that he was now staring. The young woman in front of him was nothing short of captivating. She was small, with dark hair and thick eyebrows, but there was something powerful about her.

  “Ida Rose Lowry.”

  “What?” Tom asked in confusion. He’d heard the words, but they didn’t seem to make sense.

  “I never introduced myself. Well, not in a proper way.”

  Heat crept up the back of his neck. It was like being back in the schoolhouse and getting all flustered when the prettiest girl glanced his way. “Yes. I, uh...”

  She frowned. “You need some water. One moment.”

  Before he could respond, she was gone. A minute later and Ida Rose was back, pressing a tin mug full of fresh, cold water into his hands.

  “Thank you,” he gratefully said before gulping down every drop. He set the mug on the pew’s armrest, feeling Ida Rose’s eyes on his face. “How are you doing?”

  She licked her lips. “Very well… considering… this was most...”

  “Unfortunate,” he finished for her.

  Her gaze levelled with his. “Yes.”

  A tense moment passed. This conversation was turning out to be the opposite of the first one he had hoped to have with his future wife. When he had imagined them enjoying their first day together, the daydream had not involved obliterated buildings or them both being in shock.

  “I did receive word that the farm is all right,” he announced.

  The news made her sit up straighter. “Thank goodness.”

  “Yes.” He nodded in agreement.

  Another long moment passed and he realized he was staring at her again. He quickly looked at his lap, embarrassed once more. The girl put him in a trance, she was that beautiful and compelling.

  Lord, he had really struck gold.

  Some loud talking from outside interrupted his thoughts. Turning in his seat, he saw Johnny Sumters sliding off his horse. “They took everything,” he emphatically said to the men surrounding him.

  “I’ll be right back,” Tom said, standing and going outside.

  “Which stagecoach is this?” someone asked.

  “One headed south from Cheyenne,” Johnny answered. His eyes were wide and he kept licking his lips.

  “That’s not so far from here,” a rancher named Johnson commented.

  “What’s going on?” Tom inserted.

  “Bandits,” Johnny excitedly explained. “I went to check on all the homesteads southeast of here and that Hewitt fellow told me about it. Bandits up and robbed a stagecoach just the other day.”

  A tight fist formed in Tom’s chest. Bandits. He’d lived his whole li
fe in Shallow Springs, wearing the title of the first person to be born there like a badge. They’d never had bandit troubles of any sort, the most amount of danger coming from spats between neighbors and occasional tensions with Indians.

  “Robbers?” a female voice questioned.

  Ida Rose stepped up next to Tom, the only female in the group of men.

  “It’s nothing to worry about,” Tom quickly said.

  A few of the men exchanged looks. “They could be coming here next,” one of them ominously said.

  Tom turned his back to the group, putting all his attention on Ida Rose. “Come on. Let’s get back to the farm.”

  He kept his hand hovering near her lower back. He knew it would not be appropriate to touch her, but he also wanted to protect her from the fearsome talk.

  “Where are your things?” he asked as they returned to the church’s doorway.

  Ida Rose halted, her chin quivering. “They are… They are in the general store.”

  Tom held back his sigh. “Don’t worry. They might still be all right.”

  She swallowed hard and lifted her chin. She was trying to be strong. He wanted to tell her that it was all right, breaking down was acceptable. A lot had been thrown her way in just one day.

  “It is something to be worried about, isn’t it?” she breathlessly asked. “Bandits?”

  Tom opened his mouth, but only stale air came out. As much as he wanted to make her feel safe, he couldn’t lie to her. He decided to stick with the simple facts.

  “I’ve lived here all my life. That’s twenty-four years. In all that time, there’s never been a bandit problem.”

  “Not once?”

  “I promise you not, Miss Lowry.”

  “What if it’s a sign?” Her dark eyes shimmered with anxiety.

  “A sign of what?”

  She gestured at the general area around them. “The earthquake… the bandits… Suppose I am not meant to be here at all?”

  “Then why are you here?” he countered. “How come you survived that earthquake?”

  Ida Rose’s lips twisted around, but she admitted nothing.

  He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her till all her worries faded away. He couldn’t do that, though. Not in front of other people, and not when they had only just really met. Instead, he settled for placing a hand on her shoulder.

  The touch made her gaze fly up to his.

  “You’re here,” he slowly said. “And if something is happening, then it’s meant to be happening.”

  He held his breath, waiting for her response. Finally, she lethargically nodded.

  An exhale rattled his chest. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

  3

  3. Ida Rose

  Chapter Three

  As the wagon rolled away from town, the tension that had taken residence in Ida Rose vanished. All around her, orange light covered the land. They were headed toward the mountains, getting deeper and deeper into the wild. At this point, she had only seen one house since leaving town. To say the territory stretched out around her was the opposite of New York would have been an understatement.

  “How far away are those?” she asked, nodding at the mountain range.

  “Hm.” Mr. Adkins scrunched up his face as he considered it. “It’s at least five miles to get to the hills.”

  “Is that where your farm is?”

  “No. We’re pretty close. About one more mile and we’ll be there.”

  “Ah.”

  The wagon’s wheels creaked along the road and one of the two horses snorted. She knew the polite thing to do was to say something, but the silence was too pleasant. After the tremendous shock of the day, just sitting still and enjoying God’s green spaces felt like a great blessing.

  “Was that a good sigh or a bad sigh?”

  “Sorry?” she asked, looking across the board at him.

  “You sighed.”

  “Did I?”

  He laughed, a deep, booming laugh that ripped through the open air. It lifted Ida Rose’s own heart and made her feel happy for no reason other than that he was happy.

  “It was a good sigh,” she smiled. “I am very pleased to be out here.”

  “Do you miss New York?”

  “I miss my family,” she carefully said.

  “That’s right.” His tone became serious. “You said your father died last year, correct?”

  “Yes. It was quite sudden. Pneumonia.”

  He nodded, his mouth drawn tight. She remembered that he had mentioned his own father in one of his early letters, saying that the man had passed when he was ten. What else had he mentioned, other than that his mother lived with him? There was something else…

  “Your brother,” she said, thinking out loud.

  “Stephen.”

  “Yes. Where is he?”

  “Farther west. Looking for gold.”

  “That sounds adventurous.”

  He laughed again. “It would be if he could find any.”

  Ida Rose smiled, but she wasn’t thinking about gold or brothers. It was the way the setting sun caught in Mr. Adkins’ hair that had her attention. It burned a vivacious yellow, aglow like a candle’s flame.

  “And you?” he asked. “You have sisters, correct?”

  She smoothed her skirt. “Yes. Three. One of them, Miranda, recently married, and our mother is living with her. Theodora has a job as a maid and Martha is working as a seamstress. She is very talented with a needle and thread.”

  “Where do your skills lie?” He looked at Ida Rose sideways, scrutinizing her with an intensity that made her skin warm.

  “Me?” She thought about it some. “I churn some delicious butter, I suppose.”

  She had hoped he would laugh again, but he only continued to seriously look at her. “I bet it’s more than that. You probably have a whole well of undiscovered talent.”

  She looked away as her face grew hot. “You might expect too much out of me, Mr. Adkins. I am worried you will find yourself disappointed.”

  “Tom.”

  Her eyes sharply flicked back to him.

  “We’re to be married,” he continued, in a low voice this time. “You can call me Tom.”

  “Tom,” she repeated. She’d said the name before, but it had never sent shivers down her neck.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll call you whatever you like.”

  “I like Ida Rose.”

  His eyes were smiling even before his lips were. “It’s a beautiful name.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “About being married...”

  His unfinished sentence hung in the air between them, making her nervous. Was he having regrets about choosing her to be his wife already? Did he want to take more time to make sure this was the correct decision?

  “There’s no rush,” Tom finally said. “Whenever you are ready.”

  She could barely speak for the appreciation that filled her heart. Why had she been worried? The man sitting next to her was not only a hero, he was a true gentleman as well.

  “Thank you. I am very grateful.”

  “And I’m happy you’re here,” he answered in that deep, sweet, low rumble. If honey had a sound, it would have been Thomas Adkins’ voice. “You know, my parents came from New York. I believe I neglected to tell you that in my letters.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “Really! No, you did not tell me. When?”

  “Just about a year before I was born.”

  “Perhaps your mother and I will have even more in common than I hoped.”

  “Uh, maybe.”

  There was something off about his response, but she couldn’t put her finger on just what it was. She was just about to ask him if everything was all right when he spoke again.

  “Here we are.”

  With surprise, she looked around herself. The wagon was turning right, the horses making their pilgrimage toward a barn. It was almost fully dark now, but a log house and two more barns could be made o
ut.

  At the horse barn, Tom offered Ida Rose his hand and helped her climb down from the wagon. “Give me just a minute to put the horses away. Feel free to look around, if you like.”