Robin Lee Hatcher (20 page)

He couldn’t let her.

While Gavin wrestled with his inner demons, winter arrived in earnest. It blanketed the Salmon River Range with thick layers of snow, sometimes with lazy crystals drifting to earth, sometimes with vengeful blizzards, winds howling across the mountains and valleys. Temperatures fell below zero at night and often lingered there until noon. The skies seemed eternally gray, like a mirror of the sadness that gripped the Blake home.

Emily was almost thankful for the fullness of her days. She took care of the house and the girls, preparing meals, washing and mending clothes. She made sure the children kept up with their lessons, more to keep their minds occupied than for the learning itself. She had made a promise to Dru, and although it wouldn’t be easy, she meant to keep it.

Christmas would have been a dismal affair in the Blake house, if not for Patrick’s help. He became a frequent visitor to the Lucky Strike in the weeks after the funeral, and Emily was grateful for all he did for them. He took her and the girls on an outing to chop down a Christmas tree, then helped them string popcorn and make paper garlands for decorations. He took Emily into Challis in his sleigh so she could buy gifts for the children to go under the tree on Christmas morning, and he bought a large bag of nuts to fill their stockings. He also did his best to give what comfort he could to Gavin, but his friend paid him no heed.

Emily hadn’t expected Patrick to visit on Christmas Day, but a little after one o’clock, he arrived at the front door.

“Merry Christmas, Miss Harris.”

“Mr. O’Donnell, what a pleasant surprise. Please, come in from the cold. Let me get you some coffee to warm yourself.”

“It’s a fine day. The sun is out again, and the snow is sparkling. I thought perhaps you might join me for a sleigh ride. Surely Gavin and the young ones could spare you for a time.”

“Well, I — ”

“Don’t be saying you have work to do. It’s Christmas, after all. Even a governess deserves some time off today.”

From the kitchen doorway, Gavin said, “Patrick’s right, Miss Harris. We can manage on our own for an afternoon. Go and enjoy yourself.”

She was dispensable. Gavin didn’t need her, didn’t want her, had rejected her time and again, only tolerated her because it had been Dru’s dying wish that Emily stay with the girls until spring. If she’d had any hope that Gavin might learn to care for her as she cared for him — as Dru had wanted, Emily had come to believe — the past few weeks had shattered it.

“I’ll get my wrap,” she said softly.

Before she could take more than a few steps toward the kitchen where she’d hung her coat earlier that morning, Gavin brought it to her. “Enjoy yourself,” he said.

The threat of tears made her throat ache. “Thank you.”

“No need to rush back. I can look after Brina and Pet.”

If she didn’t leave right now, she might let him see how much his words hurt. She didn’t want that. She turned toward Patrick, who took the coat from her hands and helped her into it before opening the door.

“We’ll return in an hour or so,” Patrick told Gavin.

Gavin didn’t reply.

Once Emily was seated in the front seat of the sleigh, Patrick covered her with a fur-lined lap robe. Then he joined her on the seat, taking up the reins and slapping them against the team’s rumps. The sleigh slid away from the house, accompanied by the jingle of bells on the harness.

It was a beautiful Christmas day, the sky so blue it almost hurt the eyes, the snow glittering in the sunlight. The cold against her cheeks revived Emily’s spirits.

“Look there,” Patrick said, breaking the silence that had stretched between them. He slowed the horses to a halt.

Emily followed the direction of his gaze to a herd of elk, a hundred or more, moving slowly but steadily across the valley about half a mile ahead of them. The sound of horns clicking against horns carried to them on the breeze. Several elk — a few with massive racks spanning four or five feet across — stopped and stared in their direction, then continued on their way, as if to say that humans were of no importance.

“The Indians call the elk
wapiti
,” Patrick told her. “It means ‘white,’ referring to their tails.”

“I’ve never seen so many in one place before.” She turned and gave him a smile. “They’re breathtaking.”

He leaned close. “If you’ll allow me to say so, Miss Harris, so are you.”

She liked Patrick a great deal. He was generous and amusing, candid and tender. That he would like to be more to her than a friend had never been in question, but he had never pressed her. She thought that was about to change.

“Miss Harris . . . Emily . . . you know that I care for you.”

A girl could do much worse than Patrick O’Donnell for a suitor. Much worse. And he was ever so thoughtful. Hadn’t he shown her countless courtesies in these past weeks? When she’d had no one else she could turn to, there he had been.

“Sure and I’ve been hoping you might consider me for a husband.”

How should she answer? She had always said she would only marry for love and for no other reason. But marrying for love wasn’t possible now. For the man she loved didn’t love her in return.

Patrick pulled her left hand from the muff she held on her lap, then slid a ruby and emerald ring onto the tip of her finger, pausing to ask, “Will you marry me, Emily?”

“Patrick . . .”

“I swear I’ll do all in my power to make you happy.”

“It’s so soon after Dru died. I couldn’t leave Brina and Pet now. Their hearts are broken. And I cannot accept this.” She removed the ring from her finger and pressed it into his hand. “It’s too soon.”

“Fine. You needn’t wear the ring. You needn’t upset the children. But tell me you’ll marry me. We’ll wait as long as you wish to wed. Say you’ll marry me, Emily. Tell me when that can be.”

“I promised the Blakes I would stay until spring, until the cattle go back to the basin.”

“Mid-June then. It’s a good time for a wedding.”

“But I — ”

He stopped her words with a kiss.

She wanted to be stirred. She wanted her heart to react. She wanted her pulse to race.

“Go on, Emily. Say you’ll marry me,” he whispered, his lips still near her own. “Say it.”

Gavin didn’t want her. Probably didn’t need her. Most likely wouldn’t miss her when she was gone.

“Say it.”

“All right, Patrick. Yes. I will marry you.”

He kissed her again.

Don’t be afraid to love
, Dru had told Gavin.

Don’t be afraid to risk it all, was what she’d tried to tell him.

Don’t be afraid to trust and give. Don’t be afraid to take in return. Don’t be so embittered by what someone did in the past that you can’t look for the good in others. Don’t believe that every woman is like Christina Blake, selfish and spoiled. Believe, instead, in the best in people.

It all became crystal clear in Gavin’s mind as he lay in bed, sleepless and searching for answers.

Don’t be afraid to love. Really love. Love with everything — heart, body, mind, and soul. Don’t be afraid to love.

I think you could love Emily . . . She belongs in this place . . . She
could love you too if you let her.

He’d had Dru’s blessing. More than her blessing. Her prayers.

He knew that now. Should have known it then. Should have understood that this had been Dru’s desire even before they went to Boise to hire a governess.

He got out of bed and went into the parlor. Hot coals glowed red in the fireplace. He checked the mantle clock, 2:00 a.m. He tossed more wood into the fireplace and waited for it to flare to life.

Dru had wanted more for him than he’d wanted for himself. Because she’d loved Charlie with her whole heart, she’d wanted the same for Gavin. More, she’d wanted her daughters to be raised in that kind of home, where the parents loved completely and fully.

She was right. He was bullheaded.

Gavin walked into the kitchen and looked out of the window toward the one-room cabin that had been his home while Charlie was alive. Emily was asleep in there now.

She could love you too if you let her.

Could she? Could Emily love him if he let her?

Maybe. Maybe he should find out if Dru was right.

Emily awakened before dawn. She wouldn’t be needed in the house for several more hours, but there was no point trying to go back to sleep. Her thoughts were already churning. She needed to write to Maggie and tell her about Patrick’s proposal. Her sister would want to meet him before their wedding day. Would Maggie and Tucker come to Challis or would she and Patrick need to travel to Boise? Of course, no one could find fault with the good-natured, kindhearted Patrick O’Donnell. Everyone who knew him liked him. One couldn’t help but fall victim to his Irish charm.

But there was an ache inside Emily. She wanted more than kindness, more than goodness.

She wanted Gavin.

With a moan, she tossed aside the blankets and rose from her bed. She drew on a robe as she walked across the room to the window. Brushing aside the curtains, she stared across the yard that separated her cabin from the main ranch house. Stars twinkled in the clear black sky, the light reflected in the mantle of snow that covered the ground.

What would Gavin think when she told him of her engagement? Would he be happy for her? Or would he be glad to be rid of her? Perhaps he would think nothing of it at all.

A light flickered inside the children’s bedroom. Were they awake so early, even after all the excitement of Christmas Day? One of them could be ill. They had partaken rather liberally of the candy Patrick had brought with him yesterday.

She turned from the window and pulled on stockings and boots, followed by her cloak.

The serenity of the scene she had looked upon through the window had been misleading. When she opened the door, she was met by a wall of frigid air. Her lungs complained as she dragged in a frosty breath. Pulling her cloak more tightly about her, she hurried across the yard, the snow crunching beneath her footsteps. In her hastiness, she strayed once from the hard-packed trail between the buildings and broke through the crusty surface, her leg sinking in snow almost to her knee. She caught herself just in time to prevent a nasty wrenching.

By the time she reached the house, the light had disappeared from the children’s room. Quietly, she opened the kitchen door and let herself in. She was almost to the children’s bedroom door when Gavin’s voice stopped her.

“The girls are fine. I just looked in on them.”

She sucked in a breath of surprise as she turned toward the fireplace. He stood in front of it, the light flickering behind him.

“You’re up early,” he said.

“I saw the light in the children’s room and — ”

“You couldn’t sleep?” He took three steps forward.

“No.” She could make out the outline of his face now, the bold cut of his jaw, the line of his nose, the deep set of his eyes.

“Neither could I.” His voice sounded different, stronger, more like Gavin. “I was thinking about Dru.”

Her knees weakened, and she sat in the nearby chair.

Gavin returned to the fireplace, hunkering down as he added more fuel to the fire. The flames licked the wood, curled around it in a hot caress, then reached toward the chimney. The glow of the fire played over his hair, still tousled by sleep.