Brides of Idaho (31 page)

Joanna kept busy slicing venison and setting the pieces to soak in a brine solution in readiness for a hot, steamy afternoon of canning. But she spared many a glance at Mandy.

Glory made no pretense of doing anything but watching. She leaned against the table and studied every movement. “You sure must plan on being hungry.”

“Cora and Trace have shared their lunch these past two days. I figure it’s time for me to contribute.” She reached for a syrup pail, removed the lid, and took out a handful of cookies and then another. “Don’t worry, Joanna. I’ll help you bake more.”

“Uh-huh.” Joanna sounded doubtful. “I’ve heard that before.”

“I have helped.”

“Never mind. You bring in meat and do other chores. I’m not complaining if my job is to do the cooking.”

Mandy wrapped the sandwiches in brown paper, did the same for the cookies, dug a sack out of a cupboard, and settled the whole lot carefully so she wouldn’t arrive with nothing but crumbs. “I’m going to work on my house.”

Glory straightened. “I think I’ll come along and have a look at your house. And your Trace.”

“No, Glory. Please don’t. Not yet.” Both sisters looked at her like she’d said something foreign.

Joanna washed and dried her hands and stood before Mandy. “What’s going on? We don’t keep secrets among ourselves.”

“No secret. I’ve told you everything.” Except for the foolish way her heart jumped around when Trace looked at her, but Joanna didn’t mean that. “You have to understand, Cora is only beginning to feel comfortable around me. I fear if I brought someone there she would retreat.” Trace had no reason to hide, and yet she wondered if he wouldn’t view a visitor as a betrayal on her part. “Wait until Sunday, and you’ll meet them.”

Joanna studied her a moment longer then finally nodded. “Until Sunday.”

Mandy recognized it as a warning. She silently appealed to Glory, who would not think twice about choosing a different direction than Joanna.

Glory considered her a full moment then nodded, albeit reluctantly.

Neither of her sisters liked secrets any better than she did. What would it take to persuade Trace to open up?

She bid them farewell and headed up the trail to her house. Only it wasn’t her twig shack she pictured; it was the fine log house Trace built.

Trace was missing when she arrived. Cora played with the kitten and glanced up. “Trace has gone for another log. He’s been working since dawn.”

The walls were higher than when Mandy left yesterday. He was determined to win. She left the lunch in a shady spot to keep cool and grabbed her ax. She would never let him beat her.

They passed each other coming and going, pausing only long enough to say hello, even though she wanted so much more. But at a loss to say what she thought she wanted, she merely nodded and continued on her way.

All morning she worked. Steadily the walls grew higher. At noon, she retrieved the lunch sack. “Time to eat. Come and get it.”

Trace washed, filled the dipper from the bucket, drank deeply, and dumped water over his head. Then he shook like a dog after a dip.

She watched shining droplets cling to the ends of his hair. One ran down his cheek. He dashed it away.

Their gazes caught and held. She swallowed back a thousand unnamed emotions clogging her throat, thickening her thoughts until they were immobile. In the back of her brain she ordered herself to stop staring openmouthed. Stop embarrassing herself. But she lacked the power to do so.

Cora dashed between them, chasing little Goliath and freeing Mandy from her foolishness. Mandy’s fingers felt thick as sausages as she handed out sandwiches, barely able to refrain from jerking back like an idiot when Trace’s fingers brushed hers.

What was wrong with her? Was she sick with something? But apart from these occasional lapses of good sense, she felt fine.

Trace settled back against a tree, and she relaxed inch by inch. After a bit, the quiet heat calmed her brain, and she recalled her plan. “You know that venison roast I mentioned?”

“You mean the one you’re famous for cooking?”

“Yup. Well, it’s definitely on the menu for Sunday dinner. This is your chance to see if it’s as good as I say. Join us for the afternoon.”

Cora, who had been distracted by feeding the cat bits of her sandwich, jerked her attention to Trace. “Go.”

“I might.”

Mandy dared not look at him. Didn’t want to know if he appeared reluctant or pleased about the prospect. It was enough that he considered it. But despite her resolve, she slid a glance at him.

He watched her, his gaze steady, searching. She let him see a welcome and maybe more, though she couldn’t imagine what more he’d want from her. Or what more she could offer.

With an effort she pulled her gaze away and settled it on Cora. “You ought to come, too.”

“No. I couldn’t.” She touched her scarred cheek.

“Cora, only my sisters and Levi will be there, and they won’t care about your cheek.”

Cora ducked her head. “I couldn’t.”

“Maybe next time.” She returned her attention to Trace, wondering if he felt the same promise in the words as she did.

Not giving him a chance to change his mind about coming, she handed out cookies.

“You make these?” Trace asked.

“Joanna did, but I promised her I’d do some baking.” Right then and there she decided she would bake cookies at the first opportunity so she could hand some to Trace and say she’d made them.

Trace studied his face in the tiny mirror. Shaved, his hair combed back, he looked his very best. But what did Mandy see? A man with a secret, certainly. But did she see the man he’d once been? A man with normal hopes and aspirations? He touched the edges of his damp hair. Maybe he should get Cora to trim the ends. He jerked his hands from his head. Why had he agreed to go to the stopping house for dinner? “I should have told her I changed my mind.”

Cora peered over his shoulder, checking his every move, pointing out a missed whisker, an untidy bit of hair. “Can’t see any reason why you would.”

He faced her. “I don’t like leaving you alone.”

“You aren’t. I have Goliath with me.”

“Some protection that is.”

“If I hear anyone approaching, I’ll slip away and hide.” She patted his arm as if he needed reassuring. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. Besides, don’t you think it’s time you met Mandy’s family?”

“Why?”

“Seems the next logical step.”

“To what?”

She chuckled softly. “Your growing fondness for her.”

“Fondness?” He sputtered. “How can you say that? All we do is fight. Or at least spar. So far we haven’t resorted to fisticuffs. Or gunfights.” Though their first meeting had involved him wrestling her to the ground. But then he didn’t know she was a woman, so he could be excused.

“You’re both dancing around what you feel. Not quite certain if it’s real. Or if you want it to be. I think she is as cautious as you about letting herself care about someone. But she is sweet, don’t you think?”

“No. She’s anything but. Try sharp, annoying—”

“Once the two of you decide to trust each other, that will all be nothing.”

“Cora, you’re sixteen years old. I hardly think that qualifies you as an expert on romance.”

“Almost seventeen, dear brother. And I don’t have to be an expert to see what’s right in front of me.” She patted his arm in a motherly gesture that made him want to gnash his teeth. “Now you go meet her family and make a good impression.”

He slammed his hat on his head, but his anger had already burned itself out. “I won’t stay long so—”

“I am not worried. I am not afraid. Bye.”

He paused to kiss her cheek and pat Goliath on the head. “Take care of her,” he murmured to the cat. But as he strode down the path toward town, he fought his doubts. Having Cora turn this into—what? Romance? Well, what did he think it would be? A business meeting?

No. He knew it was more. But he couldn’t say what. Or if he welcomed more. All he knew was he longed to know about Mandy Hamilton.

He approached the town as the ferry crossed the river with men and horses on board. More prospectors seeking gold in the Kootenais. He had no such aspirations. All he wanted was peace and solitude.

He chuckled. Mandy had made both impossible, but he found he didn’t object.

This being the first trip to Bonners Ferry since he’d passed through on his arrival, he glanced about. The typical frontier town, thrown up in haste with little preplanning. The houses and businesses clustered close to the river were built on stilts, indicating the problem of spring flooding. Other buildings higher up the hill seemed safe from the threat. The stopping house sat solidly above the marsh area. He paused to consider what he was about to do.

Meet Mandy’s family. Risk people knowing of his presence. Unintentionally inviting them to visit as western people were wont to do by way of hospitality. Cora did not want company. Nor did he. Company meant friendships. Friendships were not to be trusted.

He reminded himself he would see only Mandy’s family.

Perhaps it was worth the risk.

He adjusted his hat and crossed the last few hundred yards to the stopping house. He’d soon find out if this was a mistake or not.

T
hought you might put on a dress,” Glory said. “In honor of this occasion.”

Mandy pretended she needed to put a spoon in the washbasin. At the same time she glanced out the window to see if Trace headed down the path. She’d never admit she’d wondered if he’d look at her differently if she’d found a dress and worn it. “You’re going to marry a preacher. Shouldn’t you start wearing dresses?” She carried a jug of water to the table.

Glory snorted. “Can’t work with my horses in skirts and petticoats.”

Mandy hesitated, trying to come up with an excuse to return to the window. She failed to find one so simply walked over and looked out. Still no sign of Trace.

Glory laughed. “You can hardly wait to see him again.” She danced around on the floor. “Mandy and Trace. Mandy and Trace.”

Rather than give her sister reason to tease, Mandy forced herself to stay away from the window. So she didn’t see Trace approach.

“Here he comes,” Glory called, all triumphant because she’d seen him first.

Mandy took her time about going to the window. Took too long. He’d almost reached the house, so she missed her chance to assess his attitude as he approached. Was he eager or reluctant? Or somewhere in between? It didn’t matter. The important thing was he’d come.

She moseyed toward the entrance, determined no one would guess she longed to run and pull him inside before he changed his mind.

“Maybe I’ll get the door,” Glory said, taking two hurried strides that direction.

“Glory, stop teasing her,” Joanna murmured.

“Can’t. It’s too much fun.”

Levi chuckled. “Not to mention it would feel too much like defeat if you stopped.”

Glory laughed. “She wouldn’t know what to do if I didn’t tease her, would you, Mandy?”

“I might be willing to find out. Just don’t get carried away with Trace here.”

“Oh, I’ll be very good. I promise.”

“Is that even possible?” By the time she opened the door, Trace had his hand raised to knock. “Hello. Come in.” Her voice sounded high and thin. Thankfully, Glory didn’t point it out to everyone present.

Trace stepped over the threshold, jerked off his hat, and stood there.

Mandy pointed to the row of hooks, and he hung his hat. She waved him toward the kitchen where the others waited. “My sisters, Joanna and Glory, and Levi, the preacher.”

He shook hands all around.

“Welcome. It’s nice to have another man present,” Levi said.

Joanna and Glory measured him discreetly but thoroughly.

What had she expected? Of course they would. Just like she’d made her own personal assessment of Levi before she was prepared to let him befriend Glory. Ironically, both she and Joanna saw how things were between the pair before Glory did.

Her thoughts stuttered. Did they see something she didn’t? It wasn’t possible. Her cheeks burned to know her sisters might think so.

Joanna invited them all to sit at the smaller kitchen table, and in the ensuing shuffle she forgot the question.

Joanna indicated she and Trace should sit on one side of the table, Glory and Levi across from them. Joanna sat at the end. The food was ready and waiting. Mandy’s sisters must have placed it on the table while she invited Trace in.

Joanna nodded in Levi’s direction. “Would you say the blessing, please?”

Levi stood as he prayed.

They passed the food—mashed potatoes, gravy, cooked carrots, and succulent roast venison.

Trace tasted the meat and sighed. “You’re right. It’s delicious.”

“Best you’ve ever tasted?”

“Think so. How do you do it?”

“It’s a secret.” She felt him stiffen and knew he’d caught the little emphasis on the final word. Yes, it was silly and probably childish to keep harping on the subject of secrets, but she couldn’t stop herself.

“I see. An old family secret, I suppose.”

Glory laughed. “She doesn’t even want us to know, though all we have to do is watch her. It’s something she learned from an old man who showed her how to cut up a deer.”