Robin Lee Hatcher (25 page)

“When did you arrive, Mrs. Worthington?”

“On Tuesday last. Quite the trip, I must say. But here we are. Now my young cousin is trying to decide what to do with herself. I’ve suggested she reopen the bakery. It’s been closed, as you must know, since the baker passed away. Bethany seems taken with the idea.”

“The bakery?” He almost laughed. “She can’t even cook.”

“You might be surprised what she can do when she puts her mind to it. And since she’s a woman living alone, she must do something.”

His humor evaporated. “She doesn’t have to be alone. She has a husband. Me.”
Unless she got that annulment and no one told me.

“I’m aware of that. But you’re out here and she’s in Sweetwater, so her marital status is rather a moot point. Isn’t it? A woman alone is a woman alone.” She rose from the sofa. “Now, I must return to town.” She moved to stand before him, offering her hand. “It may be belated, Mr. Chandler, but welcome to the family. I shall like getting to know you better. I hope we meet again soon.”

Bethany opened the door and let out a squeal. “Ingrid!” She pulled her friend into a tight hug. “Oh, I’ve missed you so.”

“I will not forgive you,” Ingrid said when she was finally released. “To be in Sweetwater for four days and not send for me. I had to hear the news from the grocer.”

Bethany took hold of her friend’s hand and led her into the parlor. They sat, side by side, on the settee. “I’m sorry, but I needed some time to be alone with my memories.” Her smile vanished. “It hasn’t been easy, being back in this house again.”

“Is that why you came back? Because of the house?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I returned because this is my home.”

There must have been something in her voice, something in her expression that Ingrid understood. “I knew you wouldn’t stay away long. You could not stay away when you love Hawk.”

Bethany sighed. “Why can you see it and he can’t?”

“He is a man. You must tell him what you feel. He cannot read your mind.”

Hawk watched the carriage pull away.

What had brought Bethany back to Sweetwater? The desire to open a bakery? Hardly. Maybe the inheritance from her parents was nothing more than the house. Maybe that’s what brought her back. But that didn’t make sense. The house could have been sold for her.

A bakery? He chuckled, envisioning his bride in a kitchen baking bread. Her cooking had improved some in the time she was with him at the ranch, but he couldn’t imagine anyone paying for the experience.

Something told him she wouldn’t welcome his opinion in that regard.

THIRTY

Bethany took her time getting to the Circle Blue. She wanted to savor every moment of the ride. She wanted to drink it all in. Everything was the same, yet seemed different too. Late summer had darkened the blue of the sky, deepened the browns of the earth. Although the days remained warm, September had arrived with cool nights. Soon the willows and aspens would exchange their verdant robes for ones of scarlet, mandarin, and gold.

She’d known when she awoke that morning that this was the day to see Hawk. He’d had two days to think about her return. Of course, she’d hoped he would come to town, but he hadn’t. So now it was up to her to make the first move.

I hope Cousin Beatrice is right. I hope he’s missed me
.

“You mark my words, Bethany,” Beatrice had said. “I took his measure. I saw that look in his eyes. He cares more than you know. Maybe more than he knows. So let him think you don’t need him. Then he’ll come around.”

“Isn’t that dishonest?” she’d asked.

But Beatrice had insisted this was the better way, and so Bethany had agreed not to rush any declarations of love. She would subdue her impetuosity.

At least she would have something to do while she waited for Hawk to fall in love with her. She’d rented the building that housed the bakery, a business that had been abandoned since the epidemic. The sign in the window now read, Bethany’s Bakery. Not very original, but hers.

She grinned. She hadn’t anticipated that she would enjoy the idea of being a businesswoman. It was rather exciting, making plans, estimating costs. Even her baking had improved in the short while she’d been back in Sweetwater. Her parents would have been surprised — and pleased, she liked to think.

Cresting a shallow gully, she reined in and feasted her eyes on the house and outbuildings of the Circle Blue.

“Home.”

Hawk had wondered if she would come today. He’d stayed close to the ranch house, just in case. When he saw her riding into the yard, he ran his fingers through his shaggy hair and then stepped out the front door to await her.

She wore a black riding habit and bonnet, a reminder of her loss. But even in mourning attire, he thought her beautiful. As she drew closer, he reacquainted himself with each delicate feature — her slightly upturned nose, her heart-shaped mouth, the green of her eyes, and those dark sable lashes that framed them.

The emotion the sight of her stirred inside him was a powerful thing. Love so strong it could knock him off his feet. It left him feeling off balance and unsure of himself. He knew what he wanted — her, in his life, in his arms. He wanted her back, but he wanted it to be her decision, her choice. Instinct told him to move carefully, lest she bolt like an untrained filly.

“Hello, Hawk.” She drew her mare to a halt.

“Bethany.”

“Are you well?”

“Well enough. And you?”

“I’m well too. And glad to be back.”

“Care to come in?”

She gave him a small smile. “Yes, I would. Thank you.”

He stepped forward and placed his hands at her waist, lifting her from the sidesaddle and lowering her to the ground. He caught a wisp of fragrance, fresh and sweet. It was all he could do not to pull her to him and kiss her breathless.

He cleared his throat as he released her and motioned for her to precede him inside. Once there, she sat on the love seat beneath the window. Sadness filled her eyes as she ran her fingertips over the fabric of the sofa.

He swallowed the urge to sit beside her. Instead, he stood by the fireplace, his shoulder leaned against the mantel. “I didn’t know what to do with that after I learned you’d gone back East. I should have sent it with your trunk.”

She didn’t reply.

“I’m sorry about your parents, Bethany. If I’d known . . .” He let his words trail into silence.

He saw the quiver of her chin, the glitter of tears in her eyes, and it broke his heart.

“Where did you go, Hawk? After Rand and Ingrid’s wedding. Where did you go?”

“No place special. I just rode west.” He moved to a chair and sat on it. “I rode until God got my attention.”

She didn’t ask what he meant, and he didn’t offer, not sure he could put it into words. Instead he asked, “What brought you back?”

“Philadelphia wasn’t home anymore. I wanted to be here, in Sweetwater.”

He nodded, hoping this was a good sign. Missing the town might mean she missed him too.

“I have the house and the money Papa left me. And I believe Cousin Beatrice told you that I’m reopening the bakery.”

He couldn’t suppress a grin. “An odd choice, isn’t it? You and baking.”

She sat a little straighter, her eyes flashing. “You know, Hawk, I don’t need your blessing on this. I’ve had to do a lot of growing up the past few months. I had to nurse people while they died horrible deaths. Had to — ” Her voice trembled but she firmed her mouth — “say good-bye to my parents, learn to live without them . . . and . . . and learn to stand on my own. If I want to open a bakery, I will.” She stood to leave.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Don’t be angry with me.” He stood too. “I’m your husband, and I care what happens to you. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

An odd expression flickered across her face and was gone — too soon for him to understand what it meant.

“I’d like us to at least be friends,” he added.

“Friends,” she echoed softly. “Yes, I suppose we can be friends.”

Then she walked toward the door, not waiting for him to open it for her.

Ingrid placed the plate of hot food on the table and sat on the bench beside her husband. “We must do something.”

“Best thing we can do is stay out of it.” Rand cut a slice of beef and speared it with his fork.

“But they are our friends. They need our help.”

“I’m tellin’ you, Ingrid, we’d best keep our noses out of their business.”

She sighed and pushed her food around the plate with her fork. It didn’t seem right that she should be so happy and her friend so miserable. The Silvertons had been good to her. If they hadn’t taken her in after her father died, if they hadn’t brought her to Sweetwater, she never would have met and married Rand. It was up to her to help Hawk and Bethany.

“You’re up to somethin’.” Rand shook his head. “Don’t do it.”

She offered an innocent smile. “Bethany has never seen our home. I think it is time we had her come to dinner.”

“Alone?”

She shrugged. “Unless someone else happens by.”

THIRTY-ONE

Bethany looked around the shop front. The bakery wasn’t meant to be a restaurant, but she had decided to place two tables near the large window for customers who might prefer to eat their desserts upon purchase. She’d covered the tables with floral-print tablecloths and set two wooden chairs at each one. A tall glass case at the rear of the room would display the breads, pies, and pastries. The kitchen, with its large oven and long worktable, was behind a wide door that swung on hinges in either direction. Everything looked in order for next week’s opening.

“Are you ready to go home?” Beatrice asked. “I’m completely exhausted.”

Bethany turned. “Yes, I’m ready. There’s nothing more to do until we begin baking. And we wouldn’t be ready for that without your help. I so appreciate you, Cousin Beatrice.”

“My goodness, I’ve enjoyed this more than I can say. I know that sounds strange, but it’s true. I’ve loved getting my hands dirty while we readied this place. I may have even lost a bit of weight. Harvey won’t know me.” Beatrice patted Bethany’s shoulder. “The bakery will be a great success.”