Her Winding Path_Seeing Ranch series_A Historical Romance Page 9

  Ida Rose silently nodded and hurried to the house. With a ball of tension in his stomach, Tom hitched the team to the wagon and brought them to the front door. With Doctor Thornton’s help, he carefully loaded the injured man into the back of the wagon, where he could stretch out on a pile of horse blankets.

  Driving out of the yard, he spared one last glance over his shoulder. The three women were climbing onto their own horses, Ida Rose carrying a carpetbag. Her eyes caught Tom’s. Even from far away, he could see the fear there.

  It was all he needed. A new strength building in him, he curled his fingers tight around the reins and encouraged the team to pick up the pace.

  In town, Thornton took the man into his office for treatment while Tom hurried to the sheriff’s to share what had happened.

  The full story unravelled, Sheriff Mayes walked around the perimeter of his office, pacing faster with each step. “This isn’t good… Not good at all.”

  It was an understatement if Tom had ever heard one. “What are we going to do, Sheriff?”

  He stopped walking to look Tom in the face. “We are going to get a posse together and put an end to this, once and for all. Now, I appreciate you coming to town right away and sharing this information with me, but you do not have to do anything-”

  “I’m with you,” Tom interrupted. “I’ll do whatever it takes, Sheriff.”

  It wasn’t the sheriff’s face that Tom was fixated on, but rather, the ones he saw in his mind: Ida Rose’s and his mother’s. It was them he was thinking of, his farm, his animals...

  He wasn’t about to stand by and let all of that continue to be threatened. He would fight to his dying breath for the land and the people he was responsible for.

  Sheriff Mayes nodded. “Go to the hotel and spread the word. We’ll meet here and ride out at five.”

  Tom followed the sheriff’s instructions, running across the street to give the news. Though the hotel’s restaurant wasn’t up and running again yet, there were a few men there, working on it. All three agreed to join the posse and set off to spread the word in different directions.

  Back on his wagon, Tom took the tense ride to Winding Path Ranch. The whole way, the hair on the back of his neck stood straight on end and the slightest noises made him jump in his seat. By the time he got to Mitchell Reed’s place, he was covered in sweat that had nothing to do with the warm day.

  Beau Johnson, one of the hands on the ranch, met him in front of the barns. “How is the fellow?” he asked, busy unhooking the horses from the wagon.

  “Shook up, mostly. I guess you heard everything by now.”

  Beau curtly nodded. “Time shouldn’t be wasted. We need to ride out tonight.”

  “And the sheriff is one step ahead of you.” Tom jumped down to the ground and helped Beau lead the horses into the stable. “We’re meeting at five in front of Sheriff Mayes’ office.”

  Just saying the words had Tom’s pulse thrumming in his ears. He knew how to fire a gun. He’d thrown a punch a few times. Mostly, though, he knew how to avoid confrontation. A fight never begun was a fight won. That’s what his father had taught him.

  In his whole life, he’d never imagined he would be part of a posse, riding out to confront—and maybe even kill—bandits. And nervous as he was, he also had never thought he would be so eager about it.

  But Shallow Springs and everyone in and around it was in danger and he just wanted this all done and over with. The less blood spilled, the better.

  “Your woman is inside,” Beau explained. “She doesn’t seem too happy.”

  Taking in a breath that burned his chest, Tom steeled himself and climbed the steps of the large house. Before he even had the front door fully opened, he heard female voices coming from in the kitchen.

  “Ladies.” He took his hat off and nodded to Clara Harman, Winding Path Ranch’s housekeeper. The four women in there all stopped chattering and just gazed back at him.

  “What are you going to do about the bandits?” his mother asked. She was sitting at the kitchen table, an untouched slice of pie in front of her.

  Tom quickly glanced at Ida Rose, whose face was impassive. Behind her, Gemma was busy mixing something in a large bowl.

  “She didn’t tell me,” his mother clucked. “Don’t think I am that daft. I overheard about what is going on.”

  “We’re taking care of it,” Tom confidently replied. “Sheriff Mayes and a lot of us men are going to ride out and find these outlaws.”

  Gemma stopped mixing and Ida Rose sharply inhaled.

  “Don’t worry,” he quickly said. “We won’t be using violence unless it comes to that.”

  “Try telling that to the outlaws,” Ida Rose harshly whispered.

  Tom twisted his hat around and gazed deep into her eyes. “I need to talk to you for a minute. In private.”

  Pulling her shoulders back, she walked past him and into the main room across the hall.

  “You don’t have to worry,” Tom softly said, coming up behind her.

  Ida Rose spun on her heel so that she was facing him. Her features were flat, but undeniable emotion filled her eyes. “You do not have to do this.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Isn’t this the sheriff’s job? Does he not have a police force to do this with?”

  “Out here, he is the police force.”

  Ida Rose’s jaw ticked. “In New York, there are officers to do this,” she whispered.

  “This isn’t New York, Ida Rose.”

  Her eyes lifted to his, deep mourning pooling in them. “You do have to go, don’t you? It wouldn’t be right if all the other men went and you did not.”

  “That’s true, but I also want to go. I need to make sure you’re safe, that this town is a good place for you… for the children we’ll one day have.”

  Her face tilted downward again, hiding any emotion there.

  “Listen.” Tom touched her shoulder. Even through the dress’ fabric, the heat of her skin made his head spin. “Everything will be fine.”

  “You do not have to say that,” she emphatically whispered. “I know what you are doing is dangerous, and that certain things do happen. That people… die.”

  “Not tonight.”

  She only blinked, staring back at him like he had gone mad.

  “I’m coming back to you, Ida Rose,” he fiercely said. His hand moved up the length of her neck, trailing across the pulse there, then came to cup her face. “I still haven’t married you yet and I mean to do that before I die. I mean to do a lot of things before I die.”

  She trembled against his touch, but he couldn’t tell if it was the good kind of trembling or the bad.

  “If something happens to you...” Her painful whisper trailed off.

  “Don’t think like that.” Tom’s heart beat so loudly, he could barely hear his own words. He didn’t know if he could keep the promise, but he did know that he would fight with every ounce of strength in his soul and body to do just that.

  Pushing their faces closer together, he dropped his forehead against hers. Her breath skimmed across his jaw, each exhale sweet and thick. He wanted to lose himself forever to this moment, to become nothing but the very air she breathed.

  When had it come to this? In the short time they had been together, their relationship had hit both lows and highs. And yet, it wasn’t until this very moment, with death hovering near their door, that he realized how much he needed the woman in front of him, that he realized how much he loved her.

  “Let me kiss you.”

  Her lips opened in response, but he didn’t wait for her answer. Pressing his mouth to hers, he stole her next exhale, taking it and sealing it away in his heart—the breath that would keep him warm through the night. The breath that would give him strength and, eventually, help bring him back to her.

  Drawing back, he dropped his hand and looked deep into her eyes once more. “Take care of Mother tonight.”

  Ida Rose licked her full lips, looking confused
, pleased, and sad all at once.

  “And yourself,” he added.

  She only nodded, her expression flooded with longing. He knew it well because he felt the same desire—the desire to stay with her, to not ride off into a night of uncertainty.

  But he loved her, so he had to go.

  Giving her hand a short squeeze, he turned and left the ranch.

  13

  13. Ida Rose

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ida Rose sat up in bed, her fingers pressed against her mouth as she stared at the dark window. It was a silent night, perhaps the quietest one she had ever experienced.

  Tom was out there somewhere, with Gemma’s husband and a group of twenty other men. What were they facing? What would become of them before the sun rose again?

  For perhaps the dozenth time since Tom had left, she bowed her head to pray. Before she could form the first thought, though, a creak outside of the bedroom made her look up.

  “Sorry,” came Gemma’s whisper through the cracked door. “I am going to retire now.”

  Ida Rose was out of bed and at the door in a heartbeat. “I was awake.”

  Gemma smiled sadly in the glow of the candle she carried. “You could not sleep either?”

  “I doubt I will get so much as one wink until they return,” she sighed.

  “Come. Let us go to the kitchen.”

  Taking Ida Rose’s hand, she led her down the hallway and into the front of the home.

  “Who is that?” a voice in the darkness asked.

  Ida Rose jumped. Next to her, Gemma let out a shriek. She lifted the candle and light spilled onto Elizabeth, who sat at the table in her nightgown and robe.

  “You scared me,” Gemma gasped, pressing her hand against her heart.

  Ida Rose went to the cook stove, which she had just noticed contained a dying glow, and put another log into it. “Elizabeth, why are you sitting in the dark?”

  “Well, now, I came out here for something...” She trailed off. “I should ask you two what you are doing creeping around like mice.”

  “We cannot sleep,” Gemma explained, setting her candle on the table and taking a seat as well.

  Ida Rose prodded at the log, adjusting it so that it could catch the last flames. Finally, it took, the bottom of it crackling to life, and she joined the other two women at the table.

  They sat there in silence, listening to the popping from the stove. Ida Rose did her best to not worry about Tom and the other men out in the wild, facing who knew what, but there was nothing else to really think of. Eyes opened or closed, she only saw him.

  Elizabeth broke the silence. “These stoves take so much work to maintain.”

  “Do they?” Ida Rose murmured, only half-listening.

  Gemma clucked. “They do. Goodness, when Clara was gone the other week and I was the only woman here, I must have spent four hours each day cleaning and waxing and gathering corncobs and wood.”

  “When I was a girl, we had a servant to do that,” Elizabeth commented. “With two stoves in the kitchen, it was her job to clean them and care for the fireplaces.”

  Ida Rose looked at Elizabeth with new interest. She realized that although she knew the older woman was from New York, just like her and Gemma, she had little idea what her life there had been like.

  Elizabeth nodded to herself, going on as if she had been prompted to. “We had twenty servants in that house, not counting all the help my mother hired when the party season came around.”

  Gemma gasped. “Twenty servants!”

  Elizabeth laughed. “My parents liked to show off.”

  “As do mine, but I can never remember a time with that much help.”

  Ida Rose looked from one person to the other, feeling as if this was a conversation she had no place in. She remembered the initial impression she had of Gemma, thinking that the woman seemed far too refined for Shallow Springs. Ida Rose herself, though her family had always had their needs met, never hired any servants. The housework fell to her and her sisters, though it had never seemed like a burden. Taking care of daily tasks was merely the way of life.

  She could not help but ask. “Why did you come here, Elizabeth? Why did you give up so much comfort?”

  Elizabeth cocked her head and stared at the cook stove’s glow. So much time passed that Ida Rose began to think she had slipped into one of her spells and an answer would not be coming.

  “It was an adventure,” she simply answered. “For love.”

  A pleased sigh left Gemma. “How romantic.”

  Elizabeth chuckled. “My father did not think so. No one did. They thought I was crazy for marrying a man whose biggest aspiration was to be a farmer.”

  “But you did not care what they thought?” Gemma excitedly asked. “You married him anyway.”

  “I cared.” She nodded. “But I cared what he thought the most...”

  “You gave up so much,” Ida Rose commented. “It sounds like your life in New York was very comfortable.”

  It did not make sense to her. Ida Rose had seen the young ladies of the upper echelons around the city, riding in carriages and going to this opera or that ball. Their fathers owned the town, each of them with more money in their pockets than the whole of Wyoming Territory combined. The thought of leaving that all behind seemed mad.

  “Tell us about him,” Gemma encouraged. “Your husband.”

  Ida Rose leaded forward in her chair, her pulse pounding. She remembered the way Tom had kissed her before leaving earlier. It had been the very first kiss of her life and it had happened so fast, it hardly seemed real. But now, when she thought of it, her stomach did a somersault and her breathing sped up. She wanted his kiss like she had never wanted anything else…

  Elizabeth chuckled. “He was romantic, that is for sure. My father forbade me from seeing him. He was just the son of a blacksmith, no one special in society’s eyes. But that didn’t keep my Henry away. No, he climbed onto my balcony in the middle of the night to bring me a rose… told me he had tried to find a gift that was equal to my beauty, but he couldn’t. The rose was only half as pretty as me.”

  “Goodness,” Gemma breathed, swooning in her chair. “How Shakespearean!”

  Ida Rose could not find any words to say. Letting her eyes drift closed, she felt Tom’s touch on her face again. The way it had stirred something foreign in her very soul… Had that been what Elizabeth felt when her late husband risked being caught to climb her balcony?

  If she were in New York and Tom asked her to run out west with her, would she go? Would she leave everything behind for him?

  “How did you know?” she quietly asked. “How did you know that you wanted to give everything up for him?”

  Elizabeth’s face softened and her eyes glowed, pleasure from many years ago reaching out and touching her in the present moment. “When I was with him, there was nothing else.”

  Ida Rose’s eyes filled with tears. She resisted brushing them away, not wanting the other ladies to know she was crying.

  When I was with him, there was nothing else.

  That was how she had felt when Tom kissed her. With his lips against hers, the rest of the world had ceased to exist. There was no pain. There was no longing. There was only the deep perfection the two of them shared.

  If he returned—when he returned—Ida Rose suddenly knew she would follow him to the ends of the earth if that was what he wanted.

  14

  14. Tom

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tom stared at the last star as it faded, the black around it giving way to dark blue. Under him, Chestnut snorted, ready to end the long night of riding and get back to her stable.

  “Soon,” he promised her under his breath.

  Hoofbeats announced the presence of several riders. Sheriff Mayes and the few men he’d gone down to the creek bed with returned, their faces emerging from the darkness as the horses came to a stop next to the rest of the posse.

  “They’re covering their tracks,
” the sheriff gruffly announced. “That’s what I think.”

  “Likely traveling in the water when they can,” McGraw, who rode to the sheriff’s right, added. “We found what was a campfire at one point, all covered up with leaves and dirt.”

  “So, they know we’re on to them,” Mitch assertively said.