Brides of Idaho (30 page)

T
race looked up as Mandy grabbed her ax and strode into the woods in search of more twigs. He needed to cut more trees, too, and headed the same direction. His path took him past Mandy, and his steps slowed. He dropped the reins of his horse. But still he didn’t move toward her. Something inside him had shifted hard to the right at her kindness to Cora. The same feeling that shifted the opposite direction yesterday when she’d been so annoyingly persistent. In fact, he felt bruised on either side of his chest from the way his emotions bounced back and forth.

But he couldn’t pass without acknowledging what she’d done for Cora. He went to her side, being careful to stay away from the swing of her ax. “Mandy?”

She rested the ax head on the ground and faced him, her expression guarded as if she expected another insult or angry retort.

To his shame, he knew she had reason for her caution. He had not been a gentleman. And why she brought out the worst in him, he couldn’t explain. But at this moment he felt nothing but goodwill toward her. “It was kind of you to bring Cora a kitten.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, even though he hadn’t exactly said the words
thank you.
“You needn’t be surprised that I can be kind.”

“Mandy, I’m not at all surprised.”

“Really? Aren’t I the most persistent, annoying person you’ve met? A hound and a pig?”

He hadn’t said those
exact
words, but it didn’t matter. He’d hurt her feelings and regretted it. He moved in cautiously, afraid of her reaction if she objected. But she only watched with guarded eyes. He grasped her shoulders simply to make sure she wouldn’t attack him. Inwardly, he grinned. He knew self-defense wasn’t his only motive. He wanted to touch her, feel her warmth beneath his palms. Most of all, he needed to erase the flash of pain he’d glimpsed. “Oh, Mandy. I don’t mean to call you names. But you must accept there are things I cannot tell you.”

She stiffened. “Secrets make me nervous.”

“No need for this one to.”

Her gaze searched his, reaching deep for answers, not finding all she wanted because he couldn’t let her. There was a time he’d trusted a woman to hold his dreams and desires gently. He’d gone to visit her when he knew the Bushwhackers were looting in the area. He should have realized his family was in danger, but he blindly expected his friendship with Austin to protect them.

She must have seen his guardedness. “I thought you would see by now I am not your enemy, but I fear you are more cautious than Cora. She hid in a tent. You hide out in the open.”

Her words were true. “I’m sorry.” He dropped his hands but did not step back, struggling between a desire to hold her close and derive some comfort and yet somehow maintain mental, emotional distance.

For several more seconds their gazes connected, searching, as the air between them shimmered with promises, hopes, and—invisible walls. He understood she could not trust him while he kept secrets. But he couldn’t allow himself to break his code of silence on certain matters.

“Mandy?” The word shifted the air, breathed open a clarity between them. If things were different. If they’d met at a different time, a different place. Before life had turned sour for him.

She stepped back. “It’s never mind to me what you’re hiding.” The way she hoisted her ax warned him she intended to get back to work. And if he was smart, he would step out of ax range.

“Thanks for your kindness to Cora.”

She snorted.

He picked up the reins and moved away. Life was what it was, and he couldn’t change the fact.

By the time he got back to the campsite Mandy had already returned and added another layer of branches to her—whatever it was. He couldn’t dignify it by calling it a house. He dragged a log to where he needed it and stood back to admire his work. Now
this
was a house.

Mandy and Cora were both out of sight on the other side of Mandy’s building. He heard shrieks of laughter; then Cora and Mandy raced around the corner, chasing Goliath. The cat ran between Trace’s feet and crouched behind the log, watching for the girls.

Mandy touched Cora’s arm. “Shh. You go that way, I’ll go this. We’ll corner him.”

They tiptoed forward. The kitten picked up his ears, well aware of their every movement.

Cora crept up beside Trace. Mandy edged to the other end of the log. She nodded her head, and both sprang toward the cat. Goliath jumped over the log and darted back toward Mandy’s house, Cora and Mandy in hot pursuit.

Trace leaned back and laughed heartily. Cora ignored him and continued the chase, but Mandy drew up short and faced him. She glanced toward Cora, who disappeared around the corner. Then her gaze rested on the twigs she’d dragged in.

He waited, wanting her to look at him, wanting to assure himself she held no ill will toward him. Finally, almost reluctantly, she rewarded his patience and studied him as if seeing him for the first time.

What did he want? Forgiveness? For what? For not being open with her? Yes, he realized. Because she was hurt by his secretiveness.

“Maybe someday,” he murmured, not certain she would understand his meaning.

She flashed a smile and nodded.

His lungs expanded fully as if a weight had been yanked off his chest.

“I’m not only persistent,” she said. “I’m patient.”

“Nice to know.” Their gaze held until he felt hope building in his heart and jerked away. “Got to finish my house.” His words sounded thick.

“Yup. You get right at it. I want it as near completion as possible when I sign the deed.” She laughed.

For some reason her remarks amused him. He couldn’t say why, except it felt a whole lot more like they were partners than rivals.

The morning passed pleasantly enough as they worked side by side. Again Cora invited Mandy to share their lunch, and she agreed.

“Tomorrow I’ll bring something,” she promised.

“Can you cook?” He tried to picture her over a stove with an apron about her waist.

“Depends what you mean by cooking.” Her smile teased.

“Normally, I would mean put a pot on the stove, fill it with meat or potatoes, and cook them. Maybe put a pie in the oven.”

“Well, Joanna is the pie baker. None of us can do near as well as her.”

He waited. Nothing. As if that answered his question. “So you make the best”—he left plenty of time for her to insert something, anything—“uh, pudding?”

She shook her head.

“Mashed potatoes?”

A little one-shoulder shrug as if anyone could do mashed potatoes.

He looked at Cora for suggestions, but she had nothing to offer.

“Biscuits? Bread?”

“Nope.”

“Then what?”

“I can turn a venison roast into the tastiest bit of meat you’ve ever imagined.”

“Really? And how do you do that?”

She leaned forward, spoke close to his ear. “’Fraid I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.” She leaned back, a satisfied look gleaming from her eyes. “You know how it is with secrets.”

Yes, he did. And he understood she’d gained a little victory by refusing to share one with him, even though it involved nothing more important than meat.

Silently, they challenged each other. Then she grinned. “Tell you what I’ll do though. I’ll cook a nice big roast for you so you can see for yourself.” She sprang to her feet, humming as she returned to her work.

Despite the cooler morning, the afternoon grew still and hot, forcing them to retreat to the shade several times for a break.

Cora offered to help Trace but he refused, telling her to stay away from the logs. He hated seeing the flash of hurt in her face as she backed off. Thankfully, she turned her attention to the kitten and enticed it into the shade. A few minutes later Mandy and Trace flung themselves down on the grass beside Cora to cool off.

Mandy shifted to look across the valley. “I wonder if Levi and Glory are able to work.”

“What are they doing?” Trace lounged back, knowing this guileless woman would share the information freely.

“I told you Levi’s the preacher man Glory is going to marry. She was certainly suspicious of him to start with.” She told about a sister who rode like a wild man, who shod horses and worked with the abused ones. She told of a preacher who came to town. “Glory said he dressed more like a cowboy than a preacher. But now they’re crazy in love.” She rolled her eyes. “I do mean crazy. They don’t even mind kissing in front of others.”

Trace laughed at the way she wrinkled her nose.

“They’re building a mission house to care for orphans, the sick, and the elderly. As soon as they’re done, they’re going to get hitched, though Joanna thinks they should wait until the town builds a church.”

“No church?”

“Nope. Sunday services are held outdoors. If it rains, we cram into the stopping house. Say…” She craned her neck to look at him. “You and Cora ought to come to the Sunday service and meet my family.”

Cora gasped.

Trace shook his head. “’Fraid we aren’t planning to go out in public now or at any time in the foreseeable future.” He could see arguments building in Mandy’s head. “Cora’s not comfortable around others.” He wasn’t about to try and change her mind either. He didn’t want to go to church. Didn’t want to be reminded that his anger toward those who hurt him was wrong. Didn’t want to be told God was in control and he should forgive.

Mandy shifted her attention to Cora. “Cora, you should reconsider.”

Cora lifted her bonnet from where it rested on her shoulders, tied it to her head, and pulled the sides close around her face.

Mandy sighed. “Forget church, then. Come to the stopping house and meet my sisters. They’ve asked after you. I’ll do my roast for Sunday dinner. How’s that?”

Cora shook her head. “Trace, you go. I’ll be fine here. I have Goliath to keep me company.”

“I don’t think that’s wise.” But at Mandy’s expression—gentle pleading, hopeful anticipation—he added, “I’ll think about it.” Victory and pleasure gleamed in her eyes, and he almost regretted giving her any encouragement. She would likely take it as an open invitation to badger him into agreeing.

And yet he realized he didn’t mind the idea of her trying to persuade him. Not at all.

I’ll think about it.
She’d make sure he did. Today was Friday. If she couldn’t convince him to come and at least visit her sisters by Saturday evening, she might as well stop being Mandy.

Satisfied she’d find a way, she returned to work, finished for the day, and headed back to Bonners Ferry and her chores.

Before daylight the next day she was out in the woods with her rifle. Deer stole through the pink dawn to water at the river. She waited until most of them finished and moved away. Then, feeling the same reluctance she always did at killing such an innocent, beautiful creature, she downed a young buck. The shot echoed through the trees, sending protesting birds from the top branches. She dressed the animal, quartered it, hung the pieces from the back of her horse, and carried it back to the stopping house.

“Good.” Joanna took the bounty. “We were starting to get low on meat. Have to feed the men well if we expect to keep in business.”

Mandy refrained from pointing out they could serve hard beans and people would eat there because they had no other option, but she knew what Joanna meant. They had a reputation of good food to maintain. “Save a nice big roast for Sunday.”

“Oh?”

“Yup. I’m expecting company.” She grinned at Joanna’s surprise.

“Trace and Cora?” Joanna asked.

“Yup.”

Glory’s arrival was announced by the pounding of horse hooves then she rushed in, her hair in disarray, smelling of horseflesh. She caught Joanna’s question. “Ohh. Trace is coming to visit.”

Mandy ignored her teasing grin. “I told him I cook the best venison roast in the world. So now I have to prove it.”

“I’ll be happy to meet them,” Joanna said, turning her attention to the meat. “I’ll have to can most of this to keep it from spoiling in the heat.” She looked toward the river. “We need to build an icehouse.”

“I’ll be happy to meet them, too,” Glory said, grinning from ear to ear. “I can’t imagine a man who can divert Mandy from pining for Pa.” Her boots thudded on the floor as she crossed to scoop a dipper of water from the bucket on the cupboard and drink deeply.

“Who says he has?” But it had been days since she’d thought of Pa. It had nothing to do with Trace. She’d simply been busy.

She gave Glory a wide view of her back. “Joanna, maybe you could make a pie or two?”

Joanna jerked about from tending the meat, stared at Mandy, then a slow smile started at her eyes and edged toward her mouth. “Sure. I’ll make pies. Any particular kind?”

Mandy squinted at her eldest sister. Why did she grin about nothing more than pies? Nothing special about wanting a pie for Sunday dinner. “I’ve always thought your dried apple pie was especially good. Probably the best you make.” She turned her full attention to the task of washing breakfast dishes, though she couldn’t help but overhear whispers between her sisters. Knew they talked about her, but she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of giving it any heed.

She washed the stack of dishes then grabbed a loaf of bread. “I’m going to take a lunch with me today.” She sliced the entire loaf, grabbed the leftover bit of grouse from last night, and made thick sandwiches, liberally salted and peppered.