The Kissing Tree (14 page)

Ridge was finished seeing to his horse, so after he hung the currycomb back up, he walked over and picked up his coat and hat where he had haphazardly tossed them. After putting them back on, he grabbed a lantern.

“The storm’s let up quite a bit. I think I’ll walk around ta make sure there isn’t anythin’ else that needs tendin’ to.”

“Awk! Don’t ye be troublin’ yourself about that lad. ’Tis a chore that can wait ’til morn,” Angus argued.

“I’d feel better ’bout doin’ it now,” Ridge insisted.

As he opened the barn door, Jonas, Jeremiah, Tiny, and Roddy all rode up together. The storm indeed seemed to be passing. The wind had died down considerably, and only a light drizzle fell.

“Good, yer back,” Angus called to the men. “Have any trouble findin’ them runaways?”

“Nah, we got ’em under control,” Jonas called as he dismounted his horse and headed in their direction.

“Didn’t need Tiny and Roddy’s help,” Jeremiah added and followed suit.

Tiny and Roddy dismounted and walked their horses over. They looked a bit more worn for all the sawing they had done on the big old birch tree.

“Well then, lads, I thank ye for all yar hard work tonight. Take care of yar horses, get cleaned up a bit, and I’ll see ye in the house.” He turned to Ridge, who had begun walking off. “How long are ye expectin’ ta be gone, lad?”

Ridge looked up at the sky. As he stood there contemplating an answer, the rain ceased to fall.

“Seein’ as it has stopped rainin’, I think I’ll do a more thorough check of things.” He walked off again. Calling over his shoulder, he added, “Don’t wait supper for me.” Suddenly remembering something, he turned around. “By the way, Angus . . . thanks for the warnin’ earlier.” He tipped his hat at his boss’s knowing look and walked away.

◁ ◊ ▷

Angus shook his head as he watched the lad go. What a day! At least he had been able to head off what could have been a bad scene only moments before.

When he had first sent Ridge to find his Georgie, he was hopin’ they could find a minute to talk. Ridge had only returned from Castle Rock that mornin’. Angus had sent him there out of pity mostly, figurin’ it might give him a little peace to get away for a few days.

He knew Ridge was driving himself crazy worrying about Georgie having a beau back in the city. He’d been working and keeping himself busy enough to avoid being around her, and that was making him even crazier.

His granddaughter hadn’t been acting much better. What feelings she had for this Mr. Alexander, he didn’t know. But he knew, as sure as the dawn, she had feelings for Ridge. Besides, Jimmy had told him what had happened in town between the two of them.

When he and Mr. Alexander had headed back up to the house, Angus started to worry what they might be walking into. He decided it was best to call out to his girl. From the commotion he heard on the other side and the look on Ridge’s face when they entered, he figured he had made the right decision.

Angus shook his head and headed back up to the house. Yes, what a day this had been already, and this was only the beginning. Things were going to be lively around here, for a few days at least, he was sure. He was glad Jimmy had gone home for a few days to help his brother with the harvest. Even though Georgiana had seen fit to put the lad in his place, it would be one last thing to add to the drama.

◁ ◊ ▷

By the time dinner was prepared, the storm seemed to have passed. Georgiana’s grandfather came in and began engaging Dawson in a conversation about his family. It was then Georgiana excused herself to change and freshen up for dinner.

As she closed the door to her room, she let out a deep and weary sigh.

At least her surprise and apprehension at Dawson’s unexpected arrival had begun to dissipate somewhat. For now, all she had to do was get through dinner.

Georgiana slipped out of her tattered dress and sat down on the edge of her bed, drawing her foot up to take a look. She had begun to worry it had started bleeding again. She was pleased when she could see no sign of blood coming through the bandage. Ridge must have done well with his stitching, even though it throbbed relentlessly.

Lying back on her pillow, a sense of fatigue overcame her all at once, and she found herself struggling to keep her eyes open.
Maybe I can rest for just a few minutes,
she thought. Emotionally drained and having lost quite a bit of blood in the meadow before Ridge had bound her foot, her body was fighting exhaustion. So closing her eyes to rest, she fell unexpectedly into a deep sleep.

Startled, Georgiana sat up in her bed and looked around, her blanket falling away. Some night sound outside her window must have woken her, and for a few minutes she remained motionless, confused at the consuming darkness of her room.
What time is it?
she thought, shivering violently as the cool night air seeping in through the window pricked at her bare skin. She was wearing only her undergarments, but someone had thrown a quilt over her. It was the one that usually lay folded at the end of her bed. Georgiana pulled the quilt, still warm from her body heat, up and around her shoulders. She must have fallen asleep before she’d finished getting dressed. After the scolding she’d given her grandfather her second day back, she was confident he would never have allowed anyone else into her room. He must have checked on her and covered her with the quilt before going to bed himself. Snuggling deep into the comforting warmth, she lay back down on her pillow.

The moonlight filtered in through the window across her room, highlighting small particles of dust that danced around in the soft light as if to some reticent melody. Outside, a multitude of stars peeked out from behind a few wispy clouds. The storm had passed.

Georgiana lay in bed another moment debating which was worse, the pain in her foot or the pain in her stomach. She had eaten only a slice of buttered bread for lunch and had completely missed dinner. Either way, she would never get back to sleep if she didn’t at least try to appease her appetite. Besides, she was curious what had happened in her absence. There would be no one to ask, but the state of the kitchen would surely hint as to how everyone had gotten along at dinner.

Throwing back the quilt, Georgiana swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The throbbing became exceedingly worse as blood rushed to her injured foot. Nevertheless, she stood up slowly, limped over to her bureau, and retrieved her nightgown. As she slipped it on, Georgiana shivered again until the heat from her body, trapped in the heavy fabric, warmed the chill from her skin.

Leaving her room, Georgiana felt her way down the poorly lit hallway, grateful to the walls for support as she fumbled awkwardly. It would be a little more difficult to cross the parlor without upsetting some unseen object, but she didn’t want to risk stumbling with a lighted lamp.

When finally she hobbled through the kitchen door, having managed without incident in the parlor, there was enough moonlight coming through the two large windows that she could see fairly well.

Everything in the kitchen seemed to be in perfect order, and she felt an immediate sense of relief. She decided a slice of bread and a glass of milk would be sufficient to stave off her nagging hunger, or at the very least, it would get her through the night.

After pouring the milk and slicing a large piece of bread, she turned to head over to the table but then jumped with a start. Recovering quickly, Georgiana immediately smiled. Ridge was sitting at the table eating a plate of cold chicken. They had obviously been thinking alike.

Georgiana felt her heart begin to race. Oh, how being near him thrilled her senses! And now she wouldn’t have to wait until morning before they could talk.
Besides,
she thought hopefully,
we have unfinished business.

Georgiana limped a few steps toward Ridge and slowed to a stop when she remembered she was not only wearing her night clothes but also her hair hung loose, trailing wildly down her back. The gown was modest enough, she supposed, but just being near a man in her bedtime attire with her hair unbound felt entirely too intimate. She wouldn’t even consider what Ms. Wilmington would say. Shamelessly choosing to ignore her sense of propriety, she began walking toward him again.

“Georgiana . . . ,” Ridge spoke her name tenderly and leaned slightly forward into the light streaming in from outside.

She froze. He’d only whispered it, but she could hear in his voice the same timbre that earlier had spoken so completely to her heart. Her pulse quickened even more. She couldn’t help that her eyes were drawn to his full lips, which were now bathed in the moon’s soft glow. The disappointment of being deprived of his kiss earlier was still fresh in her mind. Forcing herself to look at his eyes instead, she saw a flaming hope that he might kiss her still this night. But instead of coming to her and taking her in his arms, his expression abruptly changed to something she couldn’t read. Next, his shoulders sagged, and she heard him sigh deeply as he turned his eyes away from her to stare out the window.

“What are you doing up in the middle of the night?” Georgiana finally asked when her heart rate slowed enough to trust herself to speak. She limped the rest of the way over and sat down across from him, wincing slightly because her foot was now throbbing. He looked back at her when she spoke, and she saw a sympathetic look flit across his face before it was once again unreadable.

“Same thing you’re doin’ in the middle of the night, looks like.” He attempted a grin, but it ended up looking more like a smirk.

“Hmm,” was all she could think to say as she stared at him. Georgiana knew now was the time she should explain about Dawson’s kiss . . . tell him it was a misunderstanding. “Ridge . . . about earlier . . . I . . .”

He stiffened immediately and sat up straighter. “Ya don’t need to say anythin’. I understand.”

“What is it you understand, Ridge?” Georgiana was suddenly nervous about the direction their conversation was heading.

“Look, Georgie.” He leaned further back in his chair, the shadows once again obscuring his features. “Before ya came back, we hadn’t seen or talked to each other in five years . . . five years,” he emphasized. “Ya been gone a long time, and . . . we grew up.” He only paused slightly before adding, “You’re different, Georgie. I’m different. It’s not the same as when we was kids. We’ve been livin’ in two separate worlds . . . both goin’ opposite ways.” Once more he halted his speech. When he spoke again, his voice was tinged with what sounded like defeat. “I’m sorry . . . ’bout the other day. I mean, I should never have—”

“Please don’t,” she hastily interrupted. He was about to apologize for kissing her, and her heart couldn’t take that.

Nervously, her stomach tied itself in knots. Ridge needed to know how she felt. Nothing was going right. She thought she had sensed he shared similar feelings with her. Maybe she’d been wrong? Maybe she’d been wrong about a lot of things. Tears gathered in her eyes, threatening to spill over. It was now her turn to stare out the window as she garnered enough courage to speak.

“Ridge, please. I know how it looked, but I . . . ,” she finally managed even though her words were barely a whisper.

“Ya moved away,” Ridge suddenly broke in, his voice tinged with frustration, “made new friends.” He paused, but when he spoke again his voice was softer. “Don’t ya see, Georgie? Ya’ve changed. You’re a city girl, now. That fancy school did a right good job of it too. Why, if I hadn’t grown up with ya, I’d never have known it was you, walkin’ and talkin’ the way you do.”

She cringed at his words. She wasn’t a city girl . . . and she never would be. This is where she belonged. But before she could defend herself, he spoke again.

“I’m a simple cattle rancher; it’s all I ever wanted. I don’t reckon I’ll ever leave Colorado.” He stood up then, picking up his glass and plate. “Go back to New York, Georgiana,” he added with a note of finality as he walked over to the sink. “It’s where you belong. You have—” He stopped abruptly and sighed before finishing the statement.

She heard him set his dishes down, and for a long moment he didn’t say anything, just stood there quietly. It was her chance to speak. To shout out that he was wrong. She hadn’t changed, not really. She hated New York, and the last thing in the world she wanted to do was return there. In fact, she’d dig her heels and her fingers deep into the Colorado soil and hang on for dear life if anyone tried to drag her back. Though her mind raced with all the things she should say, an underlying fear kept her mouth closed tight.

Still, she wanted to go to him. Put her arms around him and tell him he was who she wanted and that her life had always been here with him. If it wasn’t meant to be between her and Ridge, her heart had somehow failed her. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to turn around. He had said she was different . . . she’d changed. Was he really just saying he didn’t want her? So, instead of running into his arms, she sat numbly staring at the empty chair sitting across the table. Suddenly she noticed the coat hanging on it and a thought jumped into her mind.

“Dawson!” He was here. Somewhere. She’d nearly forgotten about him. She’d left him with her grandfather earlier, promising to return as soon as she changed for dinner. Where was he? Had he gone back to town? Surely not, especially with the storm flooding the roads. Her grandfather would have found a place for him to sleep, but where?

“Yes . . . Dawson,” she heard Ridge repeat.

Georgiana was at once confused. Why had Ridge said that? It didn’t make sense. What exactly had he said to her a moment ago? She contemplated. He’d told her to go back to New York . . . but then didn’t finish his statement. Ridge must think she had chosen Dawson over him.
Maybe he does care?
she wondered hopefully and turned quickly in her chair to explain, but Ridge was already gone. She watched helplessly as the kitchen door swung closed.

Standing up, Georgiana hobbled over to the door to call him back, explain to him the misunderstanding. But when she opened the door and took a step through it, she saw the bunkhouse door swing closed too.

Sighing, Georgiana made her way back to her room, leaving the milk and bread at the table, forgotten.