Her Winding Path_Seeing Ranch series_A Historical Romance Read online

  Bitter words had created space between them—and just when they were only beginning to get to know each other. It wouldn’t do at all.

  Fresh, green grass was springing up along the pathway to the Weeping Willow. A bit of dew still clung to the blades, even though morning was over. It was the perfect spring day—the perfect day to share his special place with his future wife.

  “Right here.” He stopped at the Weeping Willow and parted the curtain the drooping branches made.

  Ida Rose gave him a curious look before ducking her head and crossing the threshold.

  Crouching himself, he followed her into the coolness of the tree’s shade.

  “What is this?” She gestured at the gravestone.

  “This is where my father is. His body, anyway. Though, I like to believe his soul comes and visits here from time to time.”

  “Oh,” she delicately breathed. “I had assumed he was buried in the graveyard.”

  “This was his favorite place.”

  They stood next to each other, staring at the gravestone. Birds sang and the breeze pushed its way through the branches to tickle their faces.

  Ida Rose wiped at her face and sniffed. She was crying.

  “No,” Tom rasped. “Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “You are not.” She smiled through her tears. “I am crying because… this just… it is moving.”

  She nodded. “Yes. This is a very sweet spot, Tom. That is all.”

  He hadn’t realized how much he missed hearing her say his name.

  When she’d called him Mr. Adkins in the barn, it had been a punch to his heart.

  “I was worried for a moment that this was reminding you of your father and it was making you sad.”

  Her long exhale made her shoulders shake. “It does remind me of him, but in a good way. Not all tears are bad. Even the bittersweet ones can be good.”

  “I come here a lot to talk to him.”

  Ida Rose looked at him for a long time. “I wish I had something like this. A place like this.”

  Tom gulped, but didn’t hesitate.

  He took Ida Rose’s hand lightly in his and ran his thumb over the tops of her fingers. “I’m sorry that you don’t. I haven’t given much thought to how difficult things are for you right now and I am sorry for that.”

  “Thank you,” she sighed.

  He looked straight in her eyes. If he was going to apologize, he had to be a man and do it the right way. “And I am sorry for bringing you out here without telling you about Mother first. That was the wrong thing for me to do.”

  More tears collected in her eyes. “Thank you. I am sorry for leaving her at home for so long. It was selfish of me. I had only just met Gemma, and I became distracted.”

  Tom nodded. “We both made regrettable choices. I’m sure I’ll only make some more.”

  Ida Rose laughed and sniffed. Realizing he was forgetting to be a gentleman, he dropped her hand and pulled his handkerchief from his pocket.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, dabbing at her eyes.

  “I’ve brought you into a difficult situation.”

  “I am used to those.”

  His throat was getting tight. He attempted to swallow down the tension, but it did no good.

  “To be frank, Ida Rose, I don’t know just what we are getting into here. Mother’s condition is still fairly new to me and the doctor doesn’t know how it’s going to progress or where it will take her next. No matter how bad it gets, I won’t be sending her to an institution. I can’t...” He choked over the words, unable to go on.

  “We won’t.” Seizing both hands in hers, Ida Rose stepped closer to him, putting their faces so near that he could see each of her individual, wet eyelashes. “We will take care of her. Together.”

  They were the words he’d prayed he would hear.

  “You are...” He couldn’t go on. There were no words. All he could do was look at Ida Rose, appreciate her… and hope that his eyes conveyed what no words could.

  Somehow, they did. Whatever it was he felt that could not be named—a Heavenly mix of love, admiration, hope, and even a little pain—Ida Rose seemed to understand.

  “As are you,” she whispered, gazing deep into his eyes. “As are you.”

  11

  11. Ida Rose

  Chapter Eleven

  “The post came in,” Tom announced as he strode into the house. “There’s a letter for an Ida Rose Lowry. Now, who could that be?”

  Ida Rose turned from the cook stove with a squeal and snatched the letter from his hands. Two more steps and she was sitting at the table, wiping the grease from her hands.

  “Hello to you, too.”

  “Sorry.” She grinned at him. “I am just so excited. I did not expect a letter so soon.”

  “Who is it from?” Elizabeth asked, coming and peering over Ida Rose’s shoulder.

  “My mother,” she explained, holding up the envelope.

  “I know that name.” Elizabeth pointed at the return address.

  Ida Rose reread the lines there. “The street?”

  “No. The name. Hester Lowry.”

  “Yes, she is my mother.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “No, I know her. From… from somewhere.”

  Across the room, Tom caught Ida Rose’s eyes.

  “It’s Ida Rose’s last name, Mother,” he said.

  “No,” she emphatically stated. “The whole name. Hester Lowry.”

  Ida Rose made herself smile. She was still learning what to say when Elizabeth became confused. Sometimes, it seemed no words were the right ones.

  Tom came over and sat across from Ida Rose. “Don’t worry, Mother. You’ll remember where you know it from soon.”

  She slowly nodded, accepting his answer, although she did not appear fully happy with it. “I need to weed the garden.”

  The door closed behind her with a bang.

  “Sometimes, it’s best to just agree with whatever she is saying,” Tom whispered.

  Ida Rose obediently nodded. “Yes. I see that now.”

  “Are you going to read your letter?”

  She ran her fingertips over the familiar handwriting. “You know, I think I am rather enjoying this moment of receiving an unexpected letter. I do not want to rush it.”

  Tom laughed. “All right. I can understand that.”

  “I will get to the actual letter soon. I just want each step to last a little longer.”

  Before he could answer, someone knocked on the door.

  “Oh!” Ida Rose gasped. “That is Gemma!”

  With the excitement of the letter, she had forgotten for a minute that they had made plans for Gemma to call that afternoon. Flying to the door, she whipped it open and embraced her friend. Only several days had passed since they had seen each other at church, but they had seemed more like weeks.

  “I just received a letter from my mother!” she excitedly announced.

  “Oh, let me see.” Gemma took the letter from Ida Rose’s hands. “And it’s still fresh! Not yet opened.”

  “I’ll leave you ladies be. Mrs. Reed.” Tom tipped his hat at Gemma on his way out the door.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Adkins,” she called after him, before turning to Ida Rose. “How are things fairing?” she whispered.

  Ida Rose bit down on her smile. “Very well. After we returned from church on Sunday, he took me for a walk and apologized.”

  Gemma clapped her hands together. “Delightful! I am sorry I don’t know just what he apologized for, but I am pleased to hear he did so. You know, that was right after I saw Mitch speaking with him.”

  “Did your husband say something to Tom?”

  Gemma shrugged. “I asked, of course. He refused to answer, of course. He says, ‘men like to keep their conversations private.’”

  “Women do as well,” Ida Rose pointed out.

  “Oh, but that Mitch… He likely believes I would share every detail of my life with the whole world if
I were given the chance to.” Her eyes flew around the room. “This is cozy.”

  “Yes, it is. Have a seat and I will make some tea. You must be tired.”

  “I took my horse, so no, not really. And it is such a lovely day! I can’t believe it.”

  Turning to the shelves above the window, Ida Rose reached for the little tin the tea was packed away in. As she did, movement outside caught her eye. A horse rushed into the yard, a man leaning flat against its neck. The horse came to a stop and the man slid off the animal before collapsing to the ground.

  “Ida Rose? What is it?” Gemma joined her at the window. “Who is that?”

  “I do not know, but I think he is hurt.”

  Forgetting all about the tea, she lifted her skirts and rushed outside, Gemma close on her heels.

  “Sir?”

  The man pulled himself up to a sitting position. His face was streaked with dirt and his pants’ leg wet. Ida Rose halted, sucking in a sharp breath as she realized it wasn’t water on him, but blood.

  “I need some help,” he gasped.

  Gemma clutched Ida Rose’s arm, her nails piercing even through the dress sleeve. “What happened?”

  “Bullet. I’ve been shot.” He winced.

  Ida Rose’s mouth had gone dry and her head was spinning. She looked frantically around the yard, but saw no signs of Elizabeth, Eddie, or Tom. “Let’s get him inside,” she instructed Gemma.

  The other woman was pale, but she nodded and followed Ida Rose’s lead. Together, they carefully lifted the man from the ground. With his arms around their shoulders, he hobbled into the house. Easing him down into a chair, Ida Rose quickly fetched a mug of water.

  “Thank you,” he rasped, gratefully accepting it.

  “I will put your horse away,” Gemma offered. She was still pale and seemed to purposefully not be looking at the man’s leg.

  “I should take a look.” Her heart pounding away, Ida Rose bent at the man’s leg. She was no physician, but it looked like the leg could still be bleeding. If that was the case, the man needed to be treated right away.

  Being as careful as she could, she tore open the pants’ leg. The bullet wound was easy to spot, looking as if it had entered the calf. It was painful, she was sure, but at least there didn’t appear to be any bones shattered.

  “You are still bleeding a bit.” Taking off her apron, she balled it up tight and pressed it against the wound. The man winced.

  “What’s going on?” It was Eddie, standing in the doorway and looking just as white and afraid as Gemma had.

  “We need the doctor,” Ida Rose explained. “Run to town and fetch him quick.”

  Eddie did not need telling twice. He ran off to the stable as fast as his legs would carry him.

  “Do not worry, sir,” Ida Rose told the man, who was scrunching his face up in pain. “The doctor is not far away. Hold this against your leg.”

  She moved fast, pulling the whiskey out and half-filling the man’s empty mug. “Drink this.” She pushed it into his free hand.

  Gemma was back, but keeping her back against the wall, her eyes wide. “What happened?” she whispered.

  The man took a long swig of the whiskey. “There were six of us… headed west for California. Me and five other men. We figured we would try our luck out there, as there wasn’t nothing good in Ohio.” He shook his head, his knuckles becoming bone-white around the mug. “We were jumped. They took everything we had. Killed everyone. I only got away because I was down at the creek, taking my horse to water. They saw me and fired, but we… My old horse, Brute, he’s good. He was too fast for them.”

  As the man spoke, Ida Rose had become progressively colder. By the end of his story, she was chilled to the core, no longer human, but a block of ice instead. Somehow, she got her numb tongue moving. “Who were these men who attacked you?”

  He took another gulp of whiskey. “Never seen them before. Bandits. Scum. Heartless men who think they can just take what they want… think they can kill who they please.”

  Ida Rose slowly lifted her face, her eyes connecting with Gemma’s. She desperately wanted to say something, to do something to make the moment right… But there were no options.

  “Where was this?” Gemma asked, her voice small.

  He violently shook his head. “Not sure. Don’t know the area. Ten miles from here… Five?” His eyes became red. “I wasn’t keeping track… Just running… Making Brute go as fast as he could.”

  Five miles.

  Ida Rose’s heart felt like it was having convulsions. She took a deep breath, sending up a quick prayer to God for courage. “Just hold that tight against your leg. The doctor will be here soon.”

  Not looking at either of them, she went outside and to the edge of the yard. The man had come from the north. The horizon did not go very far in that direction, thanks to the hills that sprung up on the other side of the road. The bandits who killed the man’s friends could have been less than a mile away and Ida Rose would not have known it.

  “Ida Rose?”

  She spooked at the voice, turning to see Tom walking up to her. “What are you doing?”

  “I...” She tried again to speak, but nothing came out of her mouth.

  Fear filled Tom’s face. “Is it Mother?”

  “No,” she whispered. “It’s…” Still, the words would not come. Only the tears would.

  “Oh, Ida Rose,” he murmured.

  She let herself go, collapsing against his chest and wrapping her arms around his sturdy frame. He held her close, pressing his face into the top of her head. Sequestered in his arms, for one brief moment, everything seemed all right. All was safe.

  But she knew it would not be that way for long.

  12

  12. Tom

  Chapter Twelve

  Tom paced around the room as Doctor Thornton checked the man out. “You said it was near the river? At a bend?”

  The man nodded from where he sat, injured leg outstretched.

  Tom pressed his clenched fist against his mouth. He knew the surrounding area like the back of his hand. Any spot within a five-mile radius, he could point someone to. But since the man hadn’t been leading his party, he couldn’t say exactly where they had been jumped.

  “I’m going to need to take him into town,” Doctor Thornton said, standing up. “The bullet is pretty deep in the calf.”

  “We can use my wagon.” Striding from the house, Tom crossed the yard. The three women were near the chicken coop, his mother collecting eggs while Ida Rose and Gemma stood close together, talking.

  “Doctor Thornton and I are going to take him into town.” He stopped next to the two younger women. Beyond them, his mother deposited another egg in her apron. They had told her the man became injured after a fall from his horse. Tom had no plans to tell her otherwise.

  “He needs surgery?” Ida Rose frowned.

  “I think so, but he’ll be all right. Listen. I need you to take Mother and go home with Gemma. Stay there until I come for you.”

  “But what about the animals?”

  “Red can go with you. The horses will be fine in their stalls till at least tomorrow morning. This isn’t a safe place for you to be alone.”

  “You will be here.”

  “There are more people at Winding Path Ranch.” Since it was a cattle ranch, not only was Gemma’s husband, Mitch, there, but there were always at least ten ranch hands living on the property. Other than in town, it was the wisest place to be.

  “We would love to have you,” Gemma said, taking Ida Rose’s hand in hers. “I will set up mine and Mitchell’s room for you and Elizabeth.”

  “Where will the two of you sleep?”

  “I can stay in Clara’s room. He will do fine on the living room floor.”

  “It’s what’s best,” Tom assertively said.

  “I do not want you here alone,” Ida Rose forcefully answered.

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  Ida Rose chewed on h
er bottom lip. “It is my job to.”

  “Right now, your job is to take care of yourself and Mother. Go to Gemma’s. I will come there later this afternoon. Go and get your things. Make it quick, though. Take only what you need.”