Cowboy of Mine (19 page)

Erva made a cursory glance her way, and Meredith nodded.

“Fleur, she’s pregnant. Will and I discussed having children. It was me that said I wanted to wait until we’d gotten to know each other better, let him settle into his new job, the new time.”

“Yeah.” Meredith hoped she sounded encouraging.

“Yeah, and, well, Fleur just found out she’s pregnant, but she’s already been to the hospital twice to rehydrate. Thanks to the muses I can make a trip to Ithaca, New York, where she lives, rather quickly now.” Erva giggled, even though it sounded a tad forced. Then she looked down at her blue-gloved hands. “I’m so envious of her though. It hurts to be around her.” She’d said that very softly, while she kept blinking. “I didn’t know how much I wanted to have children until now. I thought I was fine if I never had kids, you know? But I’m around lovely and sweet Fleur, who is so sick, and I’m filled with a weird restlessness and—I guess—envy. I almost can’t sit still long enough to be a good friend to her. In fact, I don’t think I have been a good friend to her since I found out. I’m...odd around her now, slightly standoffish, which isn’t like me. But I’m scared to get close—so, so scared of hearing any news about the baby, which is horrible of me.”

Meredith steered her horse closer to Erva’s. Reaching out, she caressed one of Erva’s tense shoulders. Erva glanced up with one silver tear streak down an alabaster cheek.

“It’s all right,” Meredith said.

Erva took a giant breath and smiled as another tear surfed down her visage. “I thought I was okay not having children.”

“Maybe making friends with Fleur, although really tough on you, might be something you needed to push yourself to see how much you wanted your own kiddos.”

“What if it’s too late, Meredith?” Erva’s voice had gone terribly soft and scratched in a way that broke Meredith’s heart. Erva continued. “I’m older than you. What if I waited too long?”

Meredith pulled on both her horse’s reins and Erva’s, effectively stopping them. It was tricky, and she gripped onto her horse with all her legs’ might, but she embraced Erva in a rough hold.

“I—I’m not good at consoling,” Meredith whispered in Erva’s ear once she put her arms around her. “I don’t know the right words to say, Erva. But I’ll help you in anyway I can. I’ll give you all my money for fertility doctors if they’re needed. I’ll help you and Will with the forms for adoption. Hell, I’ll steal a baby for you.”

Erva quietly giggled and pulled away slightly, tear streaks still visible through her smile. “Thanks for that. I’d prefer not to kidnap a child.”

Meredith scooted back into her saddle, hoping Erva knew she was kidding. Although with her background, it might not have been the best joke.

That was when Meredith realized she had warm tears floating down her cheeks as well. They both wiped at their faces, looking at each other with smiles. A dark horse and rider stormed by, kicking up bits of the frozen earth and God knew what else at them as he passed, making both women shield themselves from the soiled onslaught, while they laughed.

After a moment, Erva said, “Thanks, Meredith. What you said was very kind, and you are good at comforting.”

Meredith couldn’t keep looking into Erva’s eyes at that, but smiled down at her own white cotton gloved hands.

“Do you think we met, so you could—never mind.”

Meredith worried what Erva was going to say could break whatever poise she held at that moment, but she also knew she needed to hear it. “No, please tell me.” Then she did the bravest thing she could and looked straight into Erva’s eyes.

“Do you think meeting me, although hard on you, might have been the push you needed to...want a better life for yourself? Break free from David and maybe find love, real love? Or maybe not romantic love, but to find what you love again? To love your life, yourself?”

“Yes,” Meredith answered honestly. No more lies.

Erva cracked a small grin. “I’m honored to be here to help with that.”

Tears spilled down at an unprecedented rate when Meredith said, “I’m so, so honored you are here with me, that you have given me this chance, that you are becoming my friend.”

Erva shook her head. “I don’t think you understand that out of this deal I’m getting the better bargain, because the little I spoke with Laura, the little I know of you is that you are a fierce friend who will slap strange men to put them in their place and willing to give me everything you have to make me happy. You’re a really good friend, Meredith.”

More tears cascaded down Meredith’s face. She wanted to shake off the compliment, she wanted to deny it. But that would be rude to contradict her one friend. So she did the unthinkable: she took in the words, the sentiment, until her heart pounded with the luxurious feeling of warmth. She worried her bones might break from accepting the compliment, but they didn’t. Instead, she seemed to grow stronger.

“Ladies?” A man on a flatbed wagon pulled alongside Erva, concern written on his dirt-smeared face. “Everything all right?”

“It’s wonderful!” Meredith said before she even realized it.

Then Erva laughed, making Meredith join in.

“You ladies drunk? It’s not even eleven o’clock in the morning.”

They laughed even harder at that. Even though Meredith had started to worry if she caught up with Jake, would he take her back?

Chapter 12

“
H
eadin
’ to Helena or Butte?”

Jake was a little surprised the feminine voice was addressing him, let alone hearing the accent. By then he should have gotten used to the Irish immigrants, and he’d always thought it a pleasure to hear their melodic lilt when they spoke.

He bowed his head once and tapped his Stetson at the sitting red-haired lady with a wilting hat pinned forcefully into her tresses, waiting for her train.

“Butte,” he croaked.

Last night the hotel’s manager had told him Mr. Bruisner, who apparently tipped well, had already left for Butte. He’d said as much with his hand out, expecting another tip apparently. Jake internally snarled at the forced bribery, but he did pitch a silver piece at the man, grateful for any tidbit about the retreating Bruisner. Before that, Jake had found other assorted information about Bruisner from a barkeep, but the hotel’s manager had interrupted. Although it had been the hotel’s manager telling him of Bruisner’s whereabouts, the barkeep had told him what he’d drunk, how much, and that he’d said something about having a girl out in Plateau. Bruisner had said that bit with particular pride and had mentioned returning to the small mining community for her, to make her his bride.

Jake had nearly roared with rage, but he’d held it in.

Now, in the Great Fall’s train station, he reminded himself to keep his anger at bay as the Irish woman scooted on a wooden bench, a little closer to where Jake stood on the obviously recently built deck. From a desperate need to have more men in Butte—the busy mining city, the railway had been constructed less than a few months ago, and the whole place reeked of new paint. The redhead, her hair was such a bright color it might be called orange, shuffled a little closer again.

“I’m goin’ to Butte too. I work there.”

The only thing he’d heard of women in Butte doing was working on their backs. He straightened and tried not to make it noticeable that he wanted nothing to do with her. Although, she didn’t exactly look like a prostitute with her blue calico dress buttoned all the way up her thin throat and that hat trying to dangle out of her wild hair, trapped by what looked like a million pins. Further, she had a wild look in her eye, as if ready to challenge the world. Not the dead look of some of the prostitutes he’d seen. And something about the woman’s feral gaze reminded him of his Meredith.

Oh, thinking of his beloved made his heart kick and pitch against his ribs. It hurt, those last words she’d said to him. He’d give her time. She’d come around to him again. She had to, for he was fairly certain he loved her something fierce. True, it was fast, this love, but what other way was there?

“I don’t work in the brothels. Ye stupid man.” The redhead said, making Jake snort.

“I didn’t think—”

“The hell you didn’t. I see it in yer face. Ye thought me some...some...”

Jake held his palms out, surrendering. “Ye obviously aren’t. So tell me what ye do in Butte.”

“I’m a governess, is what I am. Lord have mercy, ye thought me...”

“I’m not thinkin’ clear.”

“Obviously.”

He laughed then sobered. “Forgive me. I don’ know much about the town. I just heard things...I’m ignorant, that’s all.”

She smiled at that, her blue eyes danced when she glanced at him. “I like a man who can admit he’s an idiot.”

“Did I say as much?”

“All men are idiots.”

He rolled his eyes. “Let me guess, ye have a dozen brothers, so ye know all men are idiots, aye?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I have only nine brothers. But, aye, that does make me an expert on the subject.”

“Irish Catholic,” he whispered under his breath.

“Scottish Protestant,” she said much louder.

They stared at each other, eyes narrowed and dark, then both smiled and chuckled at the same time.

“So why are ye heading to Butte, ye Scot?”

“I’m huntin’ down a man, ye Irish lass.” He’d meant to sound jovial, much like their conversation, but it had come out far too grim. Perhaps because it was a grim subject.

She straightened her back a little. “Ye a lawman or bounty hunter?”

Jake opened his jacket and revealed his silver star as well as the pistol on his hip.

Her eyes flicked over his badge. “Hmm, a bona fide lawman. Did the man do something bad? Is he Irish?”

Jake cracked another smile. “I don’ ken if he’s Irish or not. All indications are he’s merely American. And, aye, the man did something bad. He hounded after a fine lady, scarin’ her something fierce.”

Her narrowed eyes widened, then she blinked with a small smile. “‘Tis good ye catch him then. Ye must be a good man too.”

“I do try.”

“Maybe yer not such an idiot then.”

“I thank ye for the compliment.”

She smiled.

Not too long ago, he would have asked to sit next to her, to chat more, see if she wanted to sit next to him on the train. But now...he couldn’t even find the redheaded woman very pretty compared to his Meredith. He did like bantering with the Irish lass, but it felt more like a conversation with one of his brothers than any of the tête-à-têtes he’d had with Meredith. Oh, those nude tête-à-têtes of theirs...He loved the way her purple eyes stared at him when he spoke, as if every word he said was keened. He loved talking to her about so much already. He couldn’t wait for her to get the burr from her arse and calm down enough to talk to him again.

“I’m Caitlyn O’Neil.”

He fetched the hand she offered him. Surprising him, she shook his, not wanting the kiss he thought etiquette required.

“This is where you tell me your name, Scot lawman.”

He laughed. “Jacob Cameron, Miss O’Neil. But ye can call me Jake if it suits ye.”

“It does.” She hiked her chin up a notch. “Ye can call me Cat if it suits ye.”

“Cat? Not Cait?”

She rolled her eyes. “‘Tis a nickname. Don’t be an idiot about it.”

“I’ll try.”

She cracked a smile, but then hid it away. “Ye want to sit for a spell? The train doesn’t come for another twenty minutes. And that’s if it’s on time.”

He shook his head. “I thank ye, but nay. I need my legs to stretch for a bit before the long journey on the train.”

Her bright brows puckered. “That’s actually a fairly decent idea.” Reluctantly, she stood and stretched as ladylike as could be.

“I won’t let the second compliment ye extended to me go to my head.”

“Better not.”

He realized then, that as much as he thought he’d wanted to be alone, he liked not having to worry about how to win back Meredith. He knew he’d find a way eventually, but he hadn’t thought about anything else for the past day, and Cat’s incessant talk helped diminish the doubt ruminating in his mind. Oh, there was no doubt about Meredith. She already had his heart. What he doubted was if he’d ever prove himself to her.

“So this man ye’re huntin’, he have a name?”

Jake smiled once more, liking Cat’s curiosity. It probably wouldn’t do any harm to tell her. “A Mr. Bruisner. He works for—”

“The Butte Mining Company. He’s one of the men surveying land for The Company and locating small mines to buy.”

He frowned, wondering how she knew so much.

She smiled coyly. “Oh, I know of Mr. Bruisner, Jake.” Then she blinked rapidly. “I’ll tell ye everything ye want to know, if ye sit next to me on the train.”

“Blackmailin’ me, hmm? I thought ye Irish Catholic lasses were supposed to be good girls.”

Then she let out a loud laugh, even throwing her head back a little to compensate for the guffaw. She sidled closer to him, her lids half-hooded flirtatiously. He took a step back. Then her warm smile emerged.

“Aye, I want ye to sit next to me, for I think ye the kind of man who wouldn’t make a pass at me.”

“Ach, ye don’t know that. Ye need to be careful with strange men, lass. I could be—”

“I don’ need a lecture about strange men. Besides, I already know yer heart’s spoken for.” She took a tentative step forward again, this time her face more serious. “As is mine, Jake. I want ye to sit next to me, because the train can get boisterous with the miners. I’ve come close to blows with some of the drunk men, and I’d prefer not to do it again. I think with ye sitting’ next to me, I wouldn’t get accosted. And while we sit together, I can tell ye all about Mr. Bruisner, for my employer is Mr. Baker, the vice president of the Butte Mining Company. And my employer is a man who likes to talk and talk, especially so about the men he doesn’t like.”

Jake sighed. “I’m that transparent? Ye kenned my heart was taken?”

“No.” She laughed. “But now I do, and I trust ye even more, Jake. Why don’t ye sit with me on the train and tell me all about your sweetheart, and I’ll tell ye about mine.”

In the far off distance, the roar of the dragon on wheels was faintly heard. Accompanying it was the peel of its whistle. Jake smiled down at Cat. For once in so long, he found himself trusting another soul in this odd, odd world of 1887. “This is yer last chance to run away from me, for if we sit together on that train, after ye tell me about Mr. Bruisner and yer sweetheart, I’m liable to pine on and on about my girl. I’m real heartsick, ye ken? I don’t know what to do about it.”

Cat smiled widely. “I ken women, Jake. I’ll solve all yer problems lickety-split.”