Robin Lee Hatcher (2 page)

She left the dining room and wandered into the parlor. There, her fingers caressed the photographs and knickknacks as she moved about the room. Memories. Lots of memories. Happy ones too. And yet she felt out of place here. She was restless and impatient with her life. Nothing seemed to be going as she wanted.

Not that she was entirely sure what that entailed. What
did
she want?

For many weeks after her hasty return last winter from Washington, D.C., she had gladly cared for her sister and young nephew, nursing them back to health, praying for their recovery, seeing to their every need. She had mothered the older children, reassuring them that all would be well. And she’d spent many a late evening sitting with Tucker in this very room, offering her brother-in-law what comfort she could.

But the Branigan household had long since returned to normal. Although wanted, she knew, Emily wasn’t needed any longer.

Should she return to Washington? Despite how much she had enjoyed her work, that option no longer felt right. But what awaited her here? Marriage? A family of her own? She didn’t feel ready for those things yet. In fact, she had turned down a proposal from Matthew Foreman only one week before.

No, she wanted to
do
something before she married. She wanted to make some sort of difference in the world. If only she knew what.

She shook her head and walked back toward the dining room, pausing by the window and staring across the yard toward the river. Bed sheets fluttered in the golden September sunlight. Tucker’s old collie lay in the shade of a poplar, his tail slapping the dried grass in a lazy, steady rhythm.

God, what is it I’m to do? I’ ll die of boredom if you don’t show
me something soon.

She sighed as she turned from the window. Her gaze fell upon the folded newspaper, lying on the oak table where she’d left it moments ago.

Look at it
, her heart seemed to say.

She took up the paper and read the ad a second time.

Wanted: Governess and teacher for two young girls on
mountain ranch. Separate living quarters. Apply Mrs.
Blake, Overland Hotel, after 2:00 PM Friday.

Her pulse quickened. This could be it. This was something she could do. She’d lived on a ranch since she was six, so that prospect didn’t daunt her. Cattle and horses and cowhands were a part of her history.

She certainly knew how to teach. She’d received a wonderful education and had countless things she could share with two young girls. And after living all these years with Maggie’s brood, she knew a thing or two about acting like a governess to children, even if she’d never been employed as one.

Yes, this was something she could do. She was sure of it.

Did she dare apply for the job?

Drucilla Blake awakened slowly from her nap. On days like this, when she felt no pain, it was hard to believe she was dying. Tired, yes. Dying, no.

She pushed herself up on the pillows, then swept her hair back from her face as she looked at the watch pinned to the bodice of her dress, 1:15. She would have to get up if she was to meet people at two o’clock.

A cold feeling engulfed her chest, and she closed her eyes, her fingers still clutching the watch. What if no one came? Or what if they came and no one was right? It was important to find the right woman. Not just for Sabrina and Petula, but for Gavin too.

It wasn’t right what she’d done to him. When that old sawbones told her she was dying, she should have left the ranch. She should have taken the children and gone. But to where? She had no other family, no way to support herself. What would have happened to Sabrina and Petula if she’d left the basin and taken them to a strange place? No, she’d had to stay. The Idaho mountains were where she would end her days, where she would be buried beside Charlie and her stillborn son.

She filled her lungs with a deep breath, then straightened and lowered her legs over the side of the bed. There was no time to feel sorry for herself. She had come to terms with her illness months ago. Gavin would love and care for the children. He was that sort of man. She had only this one last detail to attend to, and then she would be able to die in peace.

She rose from the bed and walked toward the bureau, glancing into the mirror as she picked up the hairbrush. That was a mistake. Her reflection depressed her. She looked far older than her thirty-five years. Her illness had taken its toll, turning her brown hair gray and leaving her eyes dull and lifeless.

Lowering her gaze, she tidied her hair and smoothed her dress with the flat of her hands, then left the bedroom.

In the small sitting room, Gavin stood at the window, gazing down at the busy street below. Dru paused a moment to look at him. His black hair was shaggy around his shirt collar, badly in need of trimming. She should have seen to that before they left the basin.

He must have heard something, for he turned to face her. “Did you sleep?”

She nodded.

“Are you hungry?”

“No. I don’t think I could eat anything.”

“You barely touched your breakfast.” It was a tender admonishment.

She shook her head and turned toward the nearby sofa. She hated to see that look in his eyes. It made her feel guilty for all she had put him through, all she had yet to put him through.

“I wonder what the girls are doing this afternoon,” Gavin said.

She understood the motive behind his words. He wanted to cheer her with thoughts of the children. She loved him for it.

“Probably out riding with Stubs,” he continued. “The boys ought to have the cows rounded up by the time we get back.”

“I wish we didn’t have to leave the summer range so soon.” Dru imagined the majestic peaks of the rugged Sawtooth Mountains and the log house that lay in their shadows. No one needed to tell her she wouldn’t see another spring in the Stanley Basin.

Her husband came to sit beside her. “Dru, I want you to see the doctor before we leave Boise.”

She offered a faint smile. “Don’t, Gavin. We both know it won’t make any difference.”

Before he could contradict her, they were interrupted by a knock. Dru’s gaze snapped toward the door.

“They’re early,” she whispered.

Dear God, please bring us the right woman.

Two

Standing beside the buggy, Emily ran the palms of her hands over her blue-and-white striped skirt. Nerves fluttered in her stomach as she looked across the street at the Overland Hotel. Was she foolish to have come? Was there even a remote chance Mrs. Blake would consider her for the position?

She was tempted to climb back into the buggy, but she didn’t allow herself to succumb. If God wanted her to be a governess to these children, she would get the job. If not? Then so be it.

Maggie would call Emily mad if she left Boise to tend to another woman’s children. If she wanted to do that, Maggie would say, she could stay at home and watch after Maggie’s five. Maybe she would be right.

But Emily couldn’t ignore the feeling that she was supposed to be here. This could be the change she needed. No more boring cotillions. No more listening to gossip. No more marriage proposals from men she didn’t — and couldn’t — love. Besides, as much as she loved Tucker and Maggie, she longed for her independence.

Emily wrapped the reins around the hitching rail, patted the gelding’s neck, and walked across the street and into the hotel lobby.

The clerk behind the desk raised his head as she approached. “Good day, Miss Harris.” His greeting was bright, his look hopeful. “I haven’t seen you in town for a while. Is Judge Branigan with you? Will you be dining with us?”

“No, Mr. Samuels. My brother-in-law isn’t with me.” She gave him a half-hearted smile. Mark Samuels was one of her erstwhile suitors and a terrible gossip. She didn’t want him knowing her business, but there was nothing to be done about it. “I’ve come to see Mrs. Blake. Can you tell me what room she’s in, please?”

Disappointment tightened his mouth. “Mrs. Blake?” He glanced at the registry before him. “Oh, yes. Mrs. Blake.” His gaze lifted to meet hers. “She’s in room 210. But I’m afraid now isn’t a good time for a visit. She’s interviewing for a governess to care for her children. There’s already been three ladies come and gone.”

“Three? But it’s not even 2:30.” What if she was too late? She at least wanted a chance.

“First one come more’n a half hour ago. Mrs. Blake’s a good friend of yours, I take it?”

Emily ignored the question. “Did you say room 210?”

“Yes, but — ”

“Thank you, Mr. Samuels.”

Squaring her shoulders, she headed for the stairs.

Gavin left his chair near the window to answer the knock on the door. This would be the last one, no matter what Dru said. She was too tired to continue with these interviews — especially since she’d found the first applicants unsuitable.

He pulled open the door expecting to find another woman in her late thirties or early forties with a dour face and reading glasses perched on her nose. That was a far cry from the young lady he saw.

From beneath a bonnet made of plush blue felt, trimmed with a white ostrich feather, a fringe of pale blonde hair kissed the wom- an’s forehead and curled in wisps around her temples and ears. Her eyes were the color of a robin’s egg, and her mouth was shaped like a bow.

“I’m here to see Mrs. Blake? About the position of governess.”

No, she was nothing like the others — but she was even more unsuitable than the three before her. One look told him that. “I’m Mr. Blake. Come in.”

As she moved past him, he caught the faint scent of her cologne. Like wild honeysuckle.

Dru motioned to the chair across from her. “Come in, Miss . . .”

“Harris,” the young woman supplied as she crossed the sitting room. “Emily Harris.”

“Please sit down, Miss Harris. I’m Drucilla Blake.”

Gavin watched as the young woman settled onto the edge of the chair. Her back was ramrod stiff, her gloved hands clasped in the folds of her blue-and-white skirt. This was no penniless spinster in search of much-needed employment.

He closed the door and returned to his place by the window.

“I won’t beat around the bush, Miss Harris,” Dru began. “Mr. Blake and I have a ranch near Challis up along the Salmon River. We spend most of the year there. For the past two summers, we’ve trailed our cows into a more remote area known as the Stanley Basin. That’s where you’d be for a few more weeks, then up the Salmon. It’s beautiful country. We live a simple life, and sometimes it’s a hard one.”

When Dru paused, Emily Harris nodded, acknowledging that she listened.

“I’ve got two girls. Sabrina, she’s nine. Petula’s five. They’re bright but in need of more schooling than I can give them. Have you done any teaching?”

“No.” The young woman lifted her chin. “But I’m fully qualified to teach. I excelled in my academic studies, both in Boise and at the college I attended in the East. At present, I live with my sister and her husband. They have five children. I’ve helped raise them. There isn’t much I haven’t done to care for them over the years.”

Dru leaned forward, her hazel eyes narrowing. “Why would someone as . . . pretty as you want to leave the capital city with all of its diversions? Are you running away from something, Miss Harris? Or perhaps some
one
?”

Gavin’s gaze fastened on the petite blonde. He’d wondered the same thing.

“No, Mrs. Blake, I’m not.” Her voice was firm. “I am twenty-two years old and living with my sister and her family. As much as I love them all, it’s time that I made my own way. Being a governess is something I can do. Something I would enjoy doing.”

“The wages wouldn’t be much. Only a few dollars a month. You’d have your own small cabin at the main ranch, and you could take your meals with us. If we hire you, we’d want your pledge that you would stay through spring. At least until the cattle return to the summer range in June. Could you make that promise?”

Emily nodded.

His wife’s eyes took on a faraway look. Gavin recognized it. That look came over her whenever she thought about her girls and wondered what would happen to them after she was gone. He’d seen it often since the night she’d told him she was dying.