The Kissing Tree (21 page)

Watching him now, his eyes suddenly caught hers. She blushed to be caught staring, though she did not look away. The same thought kept spinning and spinning around in her head.

She loved him—fully, and without reservation. She could no longer deny it. His name was etched upon her heart, and it had forever been so. If he could not love her in return, she was doomed to live a life forever longing for the one man who touched her soul and owned her so completely.

The dance came to an end, and Ridge slowly released her and offered his arm as they walked to the edge of the dance floor. Dawson was instantly at her side, and Ridge stepped back. Dawson placed his hand at her waist and nodded to Ridge.

“Good evening, Ridge.”

“Dawson,” Ridge nodded back.

Dawson turned his attention to Georgiana.

“I wondered where you were until I spotted you on the dance floor. I went to get Samantha some refreshment after our dance, and when I returned, you were gone.” He paused, then asked, “Is your foot feeling better?”

“Yes, a little,” she admitted, feeling slightly guilty for denying him a dance and accepting Ridge’s offer.

“I hadn’t intended on leaving you so long.” Now he wore a look of chagrin. “Samantha is a very good dancer, and you know how I enjoy dancing.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. The both of you looked wonderful out there. Besides, I was fine. Ridge here kept me company.” She turned toward Ridge, smiling. “By the way, I didn’t thank you for the dance.”

“The pleasure was mine.”

And mine,
Georgiana thought. She felt Dawson draw her possessively closer.

“Where did Samantha run off to?” Georgiana turned to Dawson, gently forcing his hand to fall from her waist.

“There was an incident at the refreshment tables that needed tending to.” As he spoke, another dance began, and Dawson turned toward her and held out his hand. “May I?”

“Of course.” She smiled up at him and took his hand.

“Excuse us, Ridge,” Dawson said as he led her onto the dance floor.

Georgiana glanced over at Ridge when she passed by but couldn’t decipher the look on his face.

“I wanted to apologize about earlier today,” Dawson began immediately as they started to dance.

“Earlier?” Georgiana’s mind had still been contemplating Ridge’s expression.

“Yes, I was a little out of sorts this morning, and I’m afraid I may not have been as cordial as I should have.”

Georgiana’s mind was still trying to catch his meaning when it dawned on her that he was talking about his somber demeanor when he was teaching her how to drive the wagon.

“You do yourself a discredit, Dawson. You are always gracious company no matter what your mood.”

He smiled and endeavored to hold her a little closer. They danced in silence for a while before he spoke again.

“Georgiana, I’ve been thinking.”

She instantly felt apprehensive.

“I can only stay another four or five days, at most. I promised Father.” Dawson looked away from her a moment, as if he were stalling, but when he looked back, he seemed more determined to say what was on his mind. “We haven’t had too much time to talk . . . privately. Not as much as I had hoped.” He now looked nervous, and her uneasiness increased. “I was wondering . . . if perhaps you have had enough time to consider my last proposal?”

“Dawson, I . . .” She looked away, trying to gather the right words to say.

“If you need more time . . . ,” he hastily added, “I understand. I know you’ve had a rough go lately with your grandmother’s passing and returning here, as well as your responsibilities helping your grandfather.” He gently turned her face to look at him. “It’s just . . . that I had hoped . . . to bring you home with me.”

An unexpected jolt made her instantly tense. She was not ready to leave! She knew that much for sure. In fact, she was fairly positive she didn’t ever want to go back to New York. No matter how things turned out.

“Dawson, my grandfather still needs me. I don’t know if I can . . .”

“So you’re not saying no to me, just that you can’t come home yet?” he gushed, not giving her a chance to answer before he let out a relieved sigh and leaned his head against the side of hers. “Oh, Georgiana . . . I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Georgiana groaned inwardly. This was going to be harder than she thought. She had once again inadvertently given him false hope, and she could not abide hurting him any longer. She opened her mouth to speak frankly, but before she got out a word, the dance ended, and he began walking her back off the dance floor. When they reached the edge, Samantha walked up to them. Her face shone with delight, and Georgiana couldn’t help but smile.

“How are things going?” Georgiana asked her friend.

“Splendidly . . . well, except for the mishap over at the refreshment table,” she explained. “A few plates got jostled and a few drinks spilled when Clyde Pickering found his two young sons Phillip and Miles hiding under the table sneaking treats when they were supposed to be home in bed.

Georgiana looked at Samantha for a moment trying to keep a straight face, but soon both girls broke out in giggles.

◁ ◊ ▷

Ridge smiled as both women broke down in merriment. He could barely keep from laughing with them as he recalled overhearing both women’s earlier recollections about when they had done something similar. He couldn’t help but wonder if they had shared a similar hiding place as the two wily boys.

He looked over at Dawson. The man wasn’t laughing. However, he couldn’t help but notice the worried expression Dawson had worn earlier was replaced by something else, relief maybe, or perhaps hope.

Thinking back to the intimate manner in which Dawson had been holding Georgiana only moments ago, Ridge tried to speculate what their intense-looking conversation had been about. His stomach tied in knots thinking of the man’s earlier confession that he had proposed marriage to Georgiana already, at least twice. Looking to Georgiana, he tried to discern if there was some secret she could be hiding.

When she glanced up at him, mirth still evident on her face, their eyes locked.
She may look happy,
he pondered,
but it is only a fa
ç
ade. Something is bothering her.
As the music started up again, she turned to Dawson.

“I’m afraid I must sit again for a while.” She glanced away from Dawson’s disappointed look.

“I’ll stay and keep you company,” Dawson offered solicitously.

Georgiana shook her head, still looking down. “Please, Dawson. Take Samantha out on the dance floor once again. I so much enjoyed watching the two of you before.”

Ever so slightly, Georgiana turned her head toward Samantha and winked. Dawson didn’t notice. Instead, he looked sideways over to Ridge, trying to appear nonchalant. Ridge could tell he had no intention of leaving Georgiana alone in his care again, so he politely excused himself and went to ask the widow Swansen to dance. The night, he feared, was going to be a long one. At least to his good fortune, Miss Cordelia Jamison had not yet arrived.

The thought had not yet even passed through his mind when he spotted her entering the hall and looking about, presumably for him. Gracefully, he maneuvered Mrs. Swansen to the far side of the dance floor. The older woman smiled and seemed to be enjoying herself.

“I haven’t seen you in town much this last little while, Mr. Carson, not since you picked up the post a few weeks ago. Been keepin’ to yourself lately? You know that’s not fair to all us women folk.”

He smiled down at the woman. Though he gave no response, she continued. “Of course, you were a dear to mend my leaky roof today. It has been worryin’ me ever so.” A quick glance about the room gave her another avenue of conversation. “My, that Samantha Wallace did a splendid job with this year’s social. That girl just has a knack for this sort of thing. Remember last winter when they put her in charge of the Christmas pageant? Why, that was the best one I’d seen since, well . . . since ever, I reckon.” She stopped only to catch her breath and started up again. “Why there’s that sweet Mr. Alexander over there dancin’ with Miss Wallace right now. Don’t they make lovely looking dance partners? If that young man wasn’t so far gone on Miss McLaughlin, I would encourage that Wallace girl to snatch him up right fast. It was so tragic what happened to her. I pray she doesn’t hold herself back too long because of it though. The longer a woman waits, the less her chances. All the good ones are gone.” She looked up to Ridge. “What about you, Mr. Carson? Why haven’t you found yourself a nice girl, settled down, and had a few young’uns to bounce on one of them strong knees? Miss Wallace is sure a handsome girl, don’t ya think?”

“Samantha? Yes . . . yes she is, but we’re just friends,” he told her, glancing over to where Samantha was dancing with Dawson.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Seems to me you used to say that about Miss McLaughlin, but I know you was sweet on her for a long time.”

Ridge looked over to where Georgiana sat idly playing with her father’s chain. She looked troubled, not like a woman who had just accepted a proposal of marriage. As he watched her, Miss Jamison sat down beside her and began to engage her in conversation. Ridge worried as to what could possibly be the subject of a conversation between the two women. As he was thinking, Georgiana looked over to him, horrified. Miss Jamison had obviously said something that had caused that look. He needed to get over there. Dang! When was this blasted dance going to end?

He watched helplessly as Georgiana stood up and made her way to the door of the social hall. Turning back to Cordelia, he stared at the smug look on her face. She caught him staring and smiled brightly over at him.

When the dance finally ended, he thanked the widow Swansen and walked her back to her friends. Turning, he immediately headed to the door. On his way, he noticed Dawson looking for Georgiana, and avoided him. He wanted to get to Georgiana first. He had a sneaky suspicion whatever Miss Jamison had said to her to make her leave was directly related to him.

“Ridge!”

Before he could reach the door, he was stopped by Mr. Wallace. “I’ve been looking for you, son. I hope I don’t ruin your evening if I mix a little business with pleasure, but I need to discuss a financial matter with you.”

“Mr. Wallace, can it—”

“Now I promise it will only take a moment,” Mr. Wallace added quickly. Reluctantly, Ridge turned to the man and gave him his attention, though not undivided. “The Wells Fargo stage will be by first thing in the mornin’ to pick up a deposit and transfer it to Denver. You know ever since Mitch Tyler went missin’ a few years back, it makes me nervous every time I have business up that way. There’s been too much talk about Injun trouble, and if it’s not them, it’s the outlaws. The law around here isn’t what it used to be, and too many incidents have gone unsolved. Seems every gamblin’ Jesse James copycat is tryin’ his hand at thievery.” He made a disgusted sound. “I’ve been thinkin’ . . . since you’ve got about as much invested into seein’ the money arrives safely in Denver as any of us, that you might be willin’ to round up a few men to follow the stage for a while and make sure at least no one ’round these parts has a try at robbin’ it. Those Wells Fargo guys are sharp shooters, but the way I see it, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.”

Ridge agreed to ask a few men tonight if they would be willing to meet Mr. Wallace at the bank come sunrise. He knew Angus wouldn’t mind him helpin’ out. It was the right thing to do.

Finally able to end the conversation, Ridge hurried through the door. He did not see Georgiana anywhere. Sighing, he leaned up against the side of the building to think.

What could Miss Cordelia Jamison have said to upset Georgiana?
As far as he knew, the two women didn’t even know each other. Georgiana had been gone two years when Mr. Jamison and his wife had come to work at the bank. When tragedy killed old Mr. Potter, the bank’s owner, Mr. Jamison had taken over the running of it. Unbeknownst to the town, the man hadn’t a clue how to run a bank, and it wasn’t more than two years later he had nearly put the town into financial ruin. If Mr. Wallace hadn’t used his inheritance to buy the bank and shore up its financial creditability, many innocent people would have suffered great financial losses. The town had seen to it that the Jamisons found another place to reside. A little less than two months ago, Miss Cordelia Jamison, their daughter, had shown up and moved into the boarding house.

His thoughts quickly reverted back to Georgiana. His hand warmed at the thought of holding her tonight, even for one dance. He wished he could read what she was thinking behind those confusing gray eyes. Sometimes when he looked into them, he could see all his love and longing for her reflected back as though she too felt the same. Other times they told another story entirely. Then there was Dawson. Had Dawson been able to convince her to return with him? He didn’t know if he could bear to see her leave again.

“Ridge, dear, there you are. Where did you run off to in such a hurry?”

It was Cordelia. She fairly sauntered up and leaned up next to him against the building, closer than was comfortable. “You still owe me a dance, you know.”

“Don’t know that I’ll be stayin’ much longer,” he replied, inching a little farther away. She slid closer to him again, and once more he scooted away. Boldly, she moved to stand directly in front of him.

“Oh, come on, Ridge. Don’t be such a stuffed shirt. All I want is one dance.” Leaning forward slightly, she reached her hand out and coiled a finger in a strand of his hair. The scent of her perfume was so strong, it immediately made his head pound.

“Cordelia, please . . . don’t,” he warned, his anger starting to mount. Why couldn’t this woman leave him alone? Couldn’t she see he was not interested in her? It was time he made his intentions toward her plain. “Miss Jamison, it’s obvious that ya have taken an interest in me, but I need to let ya know that—”

Before he had a chance to finish, she threw herself forward, put her arms around his neck, and began kissing him. Ridge was stunned. Never before had he witnessed or been the recipient of such a brazen act perpetrated by a woman. It took him a moment to gather his wits about him before he reached up and grabbed hold of her wrists. Forcing them from around his neck, he brought them down to his chest and pushed her body away from his. She gasped as he forced her lips from his, and he looked directly and harshly into her eyes.

“As I was sayin’, Miss Jamison,” he spoke between clenched teeth, “I need to inform you that I do not return your affections.”

Fire flashed in her eyes, but despite his obvious rejection, she smiled demurely.

“Would you mind releasin’ your hold on me, Mr. Carson?”

At once he released her wrists and let his hands fall to his sides. He felt guilty for causing her discomfort, despite the salaciousness of her actions.

“Thank you,” she spat as she rubbed them a moment before continuing. “Well, I think you’ve made yourself clear, I’ll not be bothering you anymore.” She moved to step away but turned back around. “Ya know I had to give it one more chance. When I saw you kissin’ that woman the other day in the alley, you have no idea what a thrill it caused me to see a man so capable of lovin’ a woman like that. I had hoped that I could persuade you . . .” She paused for another moment, fairly smirking. “No matter . . . I can see it would never work out between you and me. We’re much too different.” Reaching into a pocket, she pulled out a set a gloves and began putting them on. When she was finished, she reached forward and ran one long, gloved finger along the side of his cheek. “Well, good-bye, Ridge Carson.” Her touch made him cringe, and she smiled at his reaction. “I can honestly say I hope to never see you again.” As she pulled her hand away and made move to leave, she flippantly added, “Oh, by the way . . . that woman you prefer was inside lookin’ for you a moment ago. I can’t be quite certain, but she seemed to be terribly upset about something.”

Smiling wickedly, she gave him one last long look before turning and walking up the street. Ridge only watched her for a second before hurrying back into the social hall.

◁ ◊ ▷

As soon as Georgiana saw Ridge’s form disappear through the doors, she sank to the ground. She felt as if the life had been knocked out of her. When that woman had approached her, endeavoring to slander Ridge’s good name, she hadn’t believed a word of it. Samantha had assured her Ridge wanted nothing to do with Miss Jamison. But her eyes told her another truth.

She’d come outside to get away from the woman and to think. Cordelia said she’d come over to warn her not to get mixed up with the likes of Ridge Carson. She said she’d been watching out the window of the boarding house that day he had forced his kisses upon her and was shocked because Ridge had purposed marriage to her only the week before. She told Georgiana she had been waiting to meet up with him that morning to accept his proposal. Just as Georgiana had begun to digest what she was saying, the woman had laid a hand across her midsection and all but told her outright the marriage was one of necessity.

It couldn’t be true! Everything she knew of Ridge, every feeling that she got about him, told her he was a man of the highest and utmost moral character. But then she had just seen them together with her own eyes!

Georgiana swatted at the tears cascading down her face and crumbled to the earth as her knees gave out. Those lips that had given such resplendent joy to her own only a few weeks before had betrayed her! Had it all been a ruse? What game was being played and where did she fit in? Georgiana was still sitting on the ground when Samantha walked up.

“Georgiana, is that you?” Samantha asked, peering through the shadows.

“Yes,” Georgiana answered in barely a whisper.

Her friend came closer.

“Where did you go? Everyone’s been lookin’ for you. Dawson and Ridge are both . . .” It was then Samantha saw the emotional condition she was in. “Georgie, what happened?”

When Samantha put her arms around her, she could not respond, only weep.

“Has someone hurt you? Look at me, Georgie. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Georgiana shook her head.

“I . . . I . . . can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Now look at me, Georgiana McLaughlin, and tell me what has made you so upset.”

“I . . . I . . . saw them . . . together.”

“Who, Georgie? Who did you see?”

“Ridge . . . Ridge and . . .” She almost couldn’t say the woman’s name.

“Ridge? Ridge is inside looking for you.”

“No, Samantha, I saw them. They were kissing and . . . and Miss Jamison told me earlier, when you were dancing with Dawson that . . . that . . .” She couldn’t say to Samantha what the woman had inferred. “Oh, Samantha, I’ve been such a fool. I was beginning to think maybe we really did have a chance. Sometimes when he looks at me I’m so sure he feels the same. I’m still the same foolish girl in love with a boy who will never return my affections.” She stood up and smoothed the wrinkles in her dress. “I need to get out of here, and I don’t want anyone seeing me like this, especially Dawson. I can’t go back to Grandfather’s tonight. I just can’t face either one of them.” She reached out and took one of Samantha’s hands. “Would you mind if I stayed at your house?”

“Of course not. I’ll take you home and get you settled, but I’ll need to come back after a while and take care of some things.”

“I understand.” Georgiana nodded, relieved she would have somewhere else to stay tonight. “Thank you,” she said gratefully, reaching forward and taking Samantha’s hand. Samantha gave it a squeeze.

“First, let me go inside and talk to Dawson and Ridge. I’ll explain to them you are not feeling well and that I’m going to take you to my house for tonight. Then you and I will sit down and get to the bottom of all of this. I know you haven’t told me everything, but I have a strong feeling that things really aren’t what they seem.”

Georgiana nodded in agreement, and Samantha hurried back inside.

Georgiana fidgeted while she waited, hoping that Samantha wouldn’t be very long. Thankfully, it was just a few minutes later when she returned.

“May we go now?” Georgiana asked anxiously.

“Yes, I let them both know we were leaving. Dawson seemed a bit worried and told me to make sure you knew he hoped you were feeling better.” A concerned look crossed her face. “Ridge acted pretty upset. I’ve never seen him so agitated.”

“If I were in his shoes, I’d be pretty upset too.” Samantha gave her a puzzled look before they headed in the direction of her house.

They were walking in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, when Samantha suddenly cried out, startling her. “What was that?”

“What?” Georgiana asked.

“There,” Samantha said, pointing to the bank, “I thought I saw a light. It couldn’t be Father because when I finished talking to Ridge, I saw him and Mother dancing.”

Georgiana thought Samantha must have imagined the light until she saw it too.

“Who would be there without your father?” Georgiana asked, starting to worry.

“I don’t know,” Samantha contemplated. “Let’s go over to see if we can tell who it is through the window.” As she began heading over in the direction of the bank, she added, “What’s that wagon doing parked there?”

Georgiana felt a little uneasy. People at the social had parked their wagons over by the social hall. So it was strange that there was a wagon parked in front of the bank. It would be better if they went back and got Samantha’s father or someone else to help, maybe even the sheriff, but she couldn’t bear to face Ridge. So even though her gut told her it was unwise, she found herself following her friend. As they stepped up onto the boardwalk in front of the bank, she grabbed Samantha’s arm. Samantha turned to her.

“Listen, if we see anyone there, we’re not going to confront them, okay?” Georgiana insisted in a low voice.

Samantha gave her a look that said, “Do you think I’m crazy?”

“If we even
think
we see someone, we’ll run back to the social and get Sheriff Riggs,” Samantha assured her, keeping her voice down low as well.

“And we stay together too,” Georgiana added.

“Agreed,” said Samantha.

The two girls quietly snuck up to the window of the bank and peered inside.

“Do you see anything?” Georgiana whispered.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to see through the curtains. Now I wish I hadn’t insisted Father put them up. It almost looks like there are shadows movin’ on the wall, but I can’t quite—”

All of a sudden Samantha let out a muffled scream as a large man put his hand over her mouth with one arm and held her immobilized with the other. Georgiana didn’t have time to scream herself, for not a half second later she found herself in the same predicament. Try as they might to free themselves, they were unsuccessful. Ultimately, they were both pushed forward and forced through the front door of the bank. Their instinct to cry out as they were thrust to the ground at a woman’s feet was sufficiently subdued when they felt the cold, hard guns pointed at their backs. They didn’t need the added verbal warning.

“Let out a scream, either of you, and I’ll shoot you dead on the spot.”

Next they heard the woman speak, but their heads were down low and the bank was dark except for a small light coming from the back office. They could only see the woman from the ankles down. The woman’s voice was loud, angry, and brusque, but definitely familiar.

“Gil, Wyatt . . . what are they doin’ here?”

“They saw us, boss. They were peekin’ in the window. We had no choice,” Gil quibbled.