The Kissing Tree (17 page)

As soon as Ridge was out of sight of the town, he urged his horse into a full gallop. He wished to get as far away from those two women as fast as he could. It wasn’t long before he found himself sitting at his favorite stream again. Reaching over, he picked up a couple of stones lying conveniently where he had piled them on his last visit. Methodically, he began tossing them into the water. He let his mind wander back to Georgiana and the day before, despite all his concessions to Dawson the previous night concerning her.

For those few moments that he’d held her after he had tended to her foot, the ache in his heart had totally disappeared. It felt so right, her being there, so close. If only her grandfather and Dawson Alexander hadn’t shown up!

The man was clearly enamored. It was written all over his face as he stood there in his fancy clothes, dripping wet, not able to tear his eyes away. She’d hardly got two words out before Dawson had gone to her, and in the next moment, instead of the sweet nectar of her kiss belonging to Ridge, the city boy had claimed it. How could she have kissed Dawson, when only moments before she’d been in Ridge’s arms?

Last night, he promised himself he would stay away, not interfere. Why then could he still not get her out of his head? Seeing them together was proving to be too much. Then there was that insufferable woman, Miss Jamison. What a day it had been so far!

When Angus had given him the day off, he decided to take care of some business in town. He’d been needing to make a deposit at the bank for a while now, and he wanted to make a few inquiries at the local land office.

When his father had sold his ranch and moved back east, he had given Ridge half the sum of the ranch’s value to go toward purchasing his own place. Even though he had told his father he didn’t need it, his father had insisted it was the right thing to do. Ridge had been a partner with his father in their business ever since he was barely more than a boy and could pull his own weight. Ridge had also been tucking away his earnings from Angus.

With Mr. Wallace’s help, Ridge had invested some of the money his father had given him, and it had grown considerably. By now he had quite a large sum. It was more than enough to purchase a substantial piece of property, start up his own cattle business, and live rather comfortably in a nice home. Ridge enjoyed working for Angus though and had been putting off the inevitable. Maybe the time had come at last. If Georgiana convinced Dawson to stay out west instead of returning to New York, he didn’t think he could continue working for her grandfather. He knew he couldn’t, and he wanted to be long gone before that ever happened.

Involuntarily, a vision of Miss Cordelia Jamison’s face quickly flashed before him. That woman never ceased to surprise him with her nerve. When he’d gone to the bank to take care of his business, she was sitting outside. He had pretended not to notice her and hurried through the doors, but she proceeded to follow him. Mr. Wallace, realizing the situation and taking pity on him, called him into his office straightaway. Mr. Wallace closed the door authoritatively, barring Miss Jamison from following Ridge in, insisting their business needed to be conducted in private. As soon as they were safely inside, Ridge thanked Mr. Wallace profusely for the interference on his behalf.

“I’m afraid, dear boy, she has been watchin’ for you for days now. I think somehow she got wind you’re thinkin’ about purchasing some land and startin’ up your own ranch.” He snorted his disgust. “She’s lookin’ to find herself a rich husband, Ridge. Best you be avoidin’ that woman for your own good. That father of hers had no business runnin’ a bank any more than I did a farm, though at least I was honest. I hear tell he spends most of his days in the saloon down in Westchester. There he sits gamblin’ and drinkin’ away what little money his wife makes workin’ in the hotel there seven days a week. I’m sure the only reason they have a place to live is ’cause her boss takes pity on her. I don’t know how Miss Jamison can even afford to be stayin’ over at the boardin’ house. Heed my words, Ridge: steer clear of that filly.”

“Thanks for the warnin’, John,” Ridge said gratefully, even though the bank owner hadn’t divulged any information he wasn’t already aware of. “She’s not my type anyway.”

That made Mr. Wallace laugh.

“Well, I hear Miss Georgie is back in town,” he said, smiling encouragingly. Ridge pretended he didn’t notice. “Hard to believe she’s been here five weeks already, and I haven’t so much as said two words to her. Did see her out in front of the mercantile one day, though.” He let out a slow whistle. “Grew up to be a beauty, she did. Apparently she has some city boy head over heels for her too.” Ridge was starting to wonder if it would be better to take his chances outside with Miss Jamison rather than listen to Mr. Wallace go on about Georgiana and Dawson. The man continued to ramble. “She’s been to my house a number of times, but you know how all my time is spent here.” He chuckled again. “Thought the two of you would always end up together, if truth be told, but then her family up and left like they did.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Did you keep in touch? Never got one letter from her at our house. It broke my dear Samantha’s heart. Never saw those two hardly apart in all the time Miss Georgie lived here.”

“We didn’t keep in contact,” Ridge answered matter-of-factly.
Though, not for lack of trying,
he thought ruefully.

“Seems strange, if you ask me . . . strange indeed,” he said, shaking his head back and forth. “Never did like that aunt of hers, Ms. Cecelia Harrington. I met her once, you know, when Michael McLaughlin first brought his new bride home to live with Angus and Shannon. That Charlotte was a beauty, not unlike her daughter. Those golden locks and that figure . . .” Mr. Wallace whistled again and then rolled his eyes. Ridge had to suppress a grin at the man’s besotted expression. “Now I was married already, mind you, so don’t be tellin’ the missus, but there weren’t a man in this here town that wasn’t envious of Michael McLaughlin about his woman. Besides,” he lowered his voice as if suddenly worried he would be found out. “it don’t hurt none to look.”

“No, sir,” Ridge replied, and Mr. Wallace chuckled again before his face became serious once more.

“Wasn’t more than a mere two weeks after the weddin’ when that sour-faced Ms. Harrington showed up on the stage throwing dirty looks and insults at anyone who came near. Hired a wagon and driver, then rode straight out to Angus’s ranch and insisted Charlotte leave poor Michael and come home with her.” He slammed his fist on the desk for emphasis, and Ridge jumped. “Charlotte was a good girl, though, and wouldn’t leave, even when that sister of hers threatened to disinherit her if she didn’t return at once.” He shook his head sadly. “Hard to think of poor Miss Georgie and her two brothers havin’ to grow up in the same house as that woman. What could have possessed Charlotte to ever move back? I can only guess her grievin’ led her to it.”

Mr. Wallace was still shaking his head when Ridge stood up to leave.

“I suppose I best be getting’ on.” He reached over to shake the man’s hand. “Thank ya for your time, John.” He paused a moment and nodded his head toward the door. “And for the warnin’. I can assure you I don’t plan on gettin’ hooked on that line!”

Mr. Wallace stood up and grabbed Ridge by the hand, giving it a firm shake. Instead of releasing it right away, he leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. With his other hand, he pointed out the window just as Dawson was helping Georgiana down from the wagon in front of the mercantile.

“Just so you know, I’m still bettin’ on you.” He smiled and chuckled at the shocked look Ridge gave him. “And just a reminder, boy,” he added, looking Ridge straight in the eyes, “ ’cause I think you’re in need of a little advice. Before you go runnin’ off some place, tail between your legs, lickin’ your wounds, you remember . . . all bets are still on ’til the preacher says ‘man and wife.’ ”

Ridge was stunned for a moment, not knowing what to say. When Mr. Wallace released his hand and became all business-like again, Ridge opened the door to the office. He groaned inwardly as he saw Miss Jamison was still in the bank lobby chatting with the teller. As soon as he stepped out the door, she was at his side.

“I thought you’d never get done in there,” she exclaimed ceremoniously. “I was about to give up and leave.” Ridge wished she had. “But I’m glad I didn’t because I really needed to talk with you, Ridge.”

“Miss Jamison . . .”

“Cordelia, please. Must you be so formal, Ridge?”

“Miss Cordelia.” She smiled up at him, obviously pleased. “I haven’t finished my business here, if you wouldn’t mind . . .”

“Oh, I don’t mind waitin’ at all, Ridge dear. You go ahead, and I’ll just wait over there.”

She pointed to a corner by the door, but as he walked to the teller to make his deposit, she didn’t budge. He decided he would just have to ignore her.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Johnson.”

“Afternoon, Mr. Carson.”

“Would you please just deposit this into my savings account?” He handed her the money he’d brought, along with his bankbook. When she was finished counting the money and making a notation in his book, she handed it back.

“There you are, Mr. Carson. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No, thank you, Mrs. Johnson. That’s all I needed,” he replied, tucking the bankbook into his inside coat pocket.

“Well, you have a good afternoon then.” She smiled sweetly at him.

“Thank you, ma’am.” He reached up and tipped his hat to the woman politely. “And you do the same. Good day.”

“Good-bye, Mr. Carson.” She smiled again, lifting her hand in a small wave.

Walking toward the doors, he tipped his hat to another woman who’d just entered the bank. “Ma’am,” he greeted.

The woman smiled. “Good afternoon, Mr. Carson.”

Ridge headed out the door, but not before Miss Jamison attached herself to his arm again. No chance he was going to have a good afternoon. Not at this rate anyway. He stepped out of the bank and into the bright sun, wishing zealously that the woman had an aversion to sunlight.

He was not that lucky. Not only had he not been able to rid himself of her, she had been so bold as to ask him to escort her to the social the next evening. He told her that after taking today off, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have to spend the day tomorrow catching up on his work. He would not feel good about accepting her invitation without knowing what his boss had in mind.

“But, Ridge, you must at least come,” she pouted, running her fingers up and down his lapel. “I bet there isn’t anyone else in this town that dances as well as you. Besides, you’re the only one
I
want to dance with.”

Ridge walked over to his horse, hoping she would release him.

“I’m afraid I can’t make any promises,” he insisted, hoping to deter her.

Just then she leaned in close to him, too close, and made a pretense of brushing something from his shoulder.

“There,” she said and stood back up again. “I dare say you’ve been playin’ in the hay today.”

He hadn’t stepped foot in the stables this morning. When he had gone out to fetch his horse and get it saddled, Tiny had come out with the work already done. Ridge smiled at the big man’s thoughtfulness.

Miss Jamison beamed up at him, thinking his smile had been for her. He quickly let the smile drop. He surely had no desire to encourage the woman.

Suddenly she laughed, for no reason at all, and leaned closer to him again. This time when she took a step back, she stumbled as if she were going to fall. Instinctively, his hands shot out to steady her. He knew it had been a ploy to have him hold her when she’d coyly put her hands on his shoulders.

That was when he’d seen them.

Ridge picked up the last stone and threw it as hard as he could toward the water’s surface, then he stood up and walked back toward Storm. After today, it would be a long time before he allowed Angus to give him another day off. It just wasn’t worth the trouble.

Georgiana watched Dawson from Samantha’s bedroom window as he helped young Matthew Wallace get a kite into the air. A moderate breeze was blowing, and Dawson hadn’t stepped more than two feet up the Wallace’s walk before he was converged upon by Matthew, who pleaded for him to assist with the kite flying adventure before the wind died down. They were having a difficult time dodging the trees, and twice already Dawson had fallen onto his behind while running backward. She couldn’t help but laugh when after each tumble, he spent an inordinate amount of time brushing himself off.

Dawson was out of his element here in Colorado. He never did like getting dirty, even for all his playing in the park with his younger brother. The problem was that his benevolence was forever getting him into situations that contradicted his need for cleanliness. She had spied him earlier looking woefully at his hands and nails. Even though he purchased some gloves, with all his help in the storm, they were probably in pretty poor condition.

Now she, on the other hand, even after five years of being pampered, didn’t mind getting her hands dirty at all. She’d grown up playing in the mud, scaling trees, swimming in murky ponds, and fording streams after she and her friends had tired of fishing. Chuckling to herself, Georgiana tried to picture Dawson baiting a worm on a hook. Try as she might, she just couldn’t fathom it. Even after countless kitchen rendezvous, Dawson was still squeamish about some things. It wasn’t his fault, she admitted freely. He’d just grown up differently.

Turning somber, Georgiana admitted this new realization was more evidence against their sharing a future together. The truth was, Dawson loved New York, with its pristine houses and manicured lawns. Though he had a deep appreciation for all walks of life, he especially thrived in a crowded room and reveled in attending one glorious event after another. If she asked him, she knew Dawson would stay here in Colorado just to be with her, but the light would go out of him. He’d still be a wonderful man, but he’d never truly be happy.

Georgiana despised New York and almost everything about it. Being in a crowd was stifling, and the parties and dances seemed to be nothing more than excuses to flaunt one’s title and wealth. Her aunt’s house certainly hadn’t helped her adjust to the change. Though even in Dawson’s home, where she’d been embraced as part of the family, it never once compared to the innate comfort of her grandmother’s parlor. There was also something about the open expanse of the land in Colorado that made her spirit feel free, not trapped as it had been for many years.

Georgiana chuckled when Dawson became wrapped up in the kite string he was trying to untangle from a tree branch. He scrunched his face, and Matthew fell to the ground laughing. Even with his ridiculous expression, he was still so charming. Amazingly, and much to his credit, he was even more appealing on the inside. Dawson was a more than worthy catch, to be sure.

As Mrs. Whitaker had insinuated, there were all sorts of women waiting back in New York, more than ready to pounce at the first given opportunity.
Maybe even his soul mate,
Georgiana thought despondently. Shamefully, she realized just how selfish she’d been in keeping him to herself all this time when she knew in her heart they could never marry.

“He’s really going to be a good husband and father for some lucky girl someday.”

The words were out of her mouth before she could take them back. Georgiana glanced over her shoulder to see if her friend had been paying attention. Instantly, Samantha set the big satin bow she was fiddling with down on the bed. She and Samantha had spent the last couple of hours tying bows to adorn the baskets of flowers, which were part of the social’s decorations. Her bed was covered with them.

One look at Samantha’s face, and she knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere until she explained herself. Turning away from the window, she walked over to Samantha’s bed, pushed a few of the bows aside, and sat down.

Tears sprang to her eyes, and before she could even open her mouth, they were trailing down her cheeks. Immediately her friend’s arm encircled her shoulder consolingly.

“Oh, Samantha . . . I don’t know what to do!”

“Why don’t you start by first tellin’ me what you meant? I thought
you
were going to marry Dawson.” Samantha took hold of both her hands. “Georgie, you love him, don’t you?”

“Of course I love him.” Georgiana swallowed hard. For the first time, she was about to say aloud the doubts her heart had been harboring for so long. “What’s not to love?” she added wistfully, not daring to look up into her friend’s face as her tears continued to fall. “It’s just that . . . that I’ve finally accepted what I’ve known for a long time. I love him more like a brother, a friend. How could I have been so . . . so selfish? I’ve . . .” Georgiana chewed on her lip for a moment, not wanting to continue. Finally she blurted out, “I’ve been so unfair to him!” Speaking the words out loud was so much harder than thinking them, and feelings of shame and guilt poured over her, causing a tumult of emotion that wracked her body with sobs. When after a while her sobbing subsided, she curled up on the bed and laid her head in Samantha’s lap. Samantha stroked her hair soothingly, brushing it off her tear-streaked face.

“Oh, Georgie. I’m so sorry,” Samantha spoke sympathetically. “You were just confused. You didn’t know.”

Samantha was wrong—Georgiana did know. Deep down, the answer was there. She’d just been too afraid to look. Dawson had become her lifeline, and she hadn’t known how to give him up.

Forcing herself up, Georgiana walked back to the window. Just as she did, Dawson looked up at her and waved. Taking a deep breath, she forced down another swelling of emotion and tentatively waved back.

“He’s such a wonderful man . . . and a dear friend,” she said, watching him resume his play. “How can I bear to hurt him?” Georgiana turned away from the window to look at her friend. “Many times I’ve contemplated marrying him anyway. I know I’ll grow to love him more like a wife should love her husband with time.” She turned to look at Dawson once more. “It could work,” she added, trying to convince herself. She absentmindedly traced a heart with her finger on the glass. “He deserves better though.” She looked down at the handsome man entangled once again in the kite strings. “He deserves a woman who swoons at his touch and whose heart begins to race whenever he is near. A woman who longs for the feel of his lips against hers and is eager to be held in the warmth of his arms . . . a woman who will feel the things Ridge makes me feel.” Georgiana quickly stopped speaking. Once again her thoughts betrayed her openly. She looked over at Samantha and sighed.

◁ ◊ ▷

Samantha looked into the eyes of her friend and struggled to hide the sudden desire to smile. She had suspected long before Dawson had shown up that Georgiana was still in love with Ridge. Ridge, she knew without a doubt, was still in love with Georgiana. Over the last five weeks since Georgiana had returned, she could see something in both of them come alive. She was actually quite surprised when Dawson arrived. She’d almost forgotten about him since she’d first peppered her friend with questions about her city beau.

Unexpectedly, Samantha felt a familiar pain clench her heart when it suddenly called upon her memories of Mitch. Talk about unfair! Here was Georgiana, faced with the dilemma of choosing between two worthy men who adored her, and she had none. A measure of jealously fought hard to find its well-deserved place in her heart, but she suppressed it. She wouldn’t give in to it now. Her friend needed her. She would wait to feel sorry for herself until later, when the dark, lonely hours found her exhausted and spent from the tears that were her nightly ritual.

Samantha forced her thoughts toward more pleasant things. At last, Ridge and Georgiana would be together! She knew somehow, someday, everything would work out. She almost couldn’t contain the joy in her heart for her two friends. Still, she kept her face neutral. Now was not the time. Georgiana was confused, afraid, and harboring a profound sense of guilt about the man outside her window who loved her. She opened her arms, and Georgiana immediately came forward again to be comforted.

As her friend cried softly in her arms, Samantha continued contemplating Georgiana and Ridge. After Georgiana had all but disappeared, she had remained friends with Ridge. At one time, she fantasized she might be falling in love with him herself. But that had been the summer she’d met Mitch Tyler. She had been drawn to Mitch immediately. That was when she knew she never really had any romantic feelings for Ridge. Mitch was everything she’d ever wanted.

Samantha felt another pain pass deep through her heart. If it hadn’t been for her friendship with Ridge, she might have never made it through the last two years. For a long time she had held out hope that Mitch would ride up one day and take her in his arms. She wouldn’t even care why he’d stayed away so long, if only he’d return. It had taken her over a year to finally admit what she had felt in her heart that first week, the week Mitch had left, was the
real
truth. Something had happened to him. Something cruel and unfair had ended his life, and she would never see him again.

Ridge had been with her that day when she had at long last taken off the ring Mitch had given her. Oh, how she had cried. They’d sat on her porch swing together for hours as he’d held her, tenderly caressing her hair, never saying a word, just offering comfort.

Samantha was startled from her thoughts when Georgiana pulled away from her and stood up, once again walking to the window.

“Oh, Sammy, how can I still love him after all these years? When he never wrote me back, I was so angry and hurt. I swore I’d never let him do that to me again.” Fresh tears began to trickle down her cheeks. “He’s been avoiding me since Dawson arrived. He won’t even look at me.” Georgiana swiped at the tears on her face. “Why is everything so mixed up? Dawson is in love with me, but I love Ridge, and now Ridge, I fear, may be in love with Cordelia Jamison.”

“Cordelia?” Had Georgiana really just suggested Ridge might be in love with Cordelia Jamison? “No, Georgie, certainly you must be mistaken. Ridge would never fall for Cordelia! Why she . . .” All at once everything about Cordelia, especially her strange behavior, started to come together.

Samantha stood up and walked over to Georgiana. She looked down absentmindedly at the man below playing with her brother as she considered Cordelia’s actions further.

It was strange that she abruptly moved back to town and the way she had so quickly latched onto her for some reason. Since Cordelia had arrived almost six weeks ago, Samantha could hardly find any respite from her endless questions. Questions about the bank and its investments, who she thought were the wealthiest families in town, and so on.

When she had somehow found out Ridge was considering buying his own land, she began asking questions about him. How much did she think it would cost to start your own cattle ranch, and were she and Ridge just friends?

At first Samantha thought she was just curious about how the town was doing since her father had been practically run out for mismanaging the town folks’ money. Now she wasn’t so sure.

Cordelia’s questions concerning Ridge hadn’t really set off any warning signals. Ridge was one of the handsomest men around these parts, and eligible too. All the young girls swooned over him and made regular plays for his attentions. But Samantha knew Ridge. He wasn’t interested in any of them. He continued searching for the right woman, but she’d known he would likely never find what he was looking for. At least not until the day Georgiana returned.

Then, miraculously, Georgiana did return.

When that happened, Cordelia had, of course, begun a new line of questioning. How long had she and Samantha been friends? Did she think her friend would really stay very long? One afternoon, she seemed especially irritable, and her questions became even more personal. What did Ridge and Miss McLaughlin think of each other? And had there ever been a romance between them?

How had she known about Ridge and Georgiana?
Samantha wondered. She surely would never have divulged such personal information, especially to Cordelia. Samantha would surely be glad after tomorrow night when the social was finally over and done with. Cordelia had definitely been more of a hindrance than a help.

Looking down, she noticed Dawson and her brother were winding up the string to the kite. Dawson would be expecting Georgie to come back down to be with him. Quickly, she turned to Georgiana and took both of her hands in her own.

“Georgie, listen to me.” Her friend’s eyes were swollen from crying. She needed to quickly help her friend repair some of the damage so she looked presentable. “I don’t know what you saw or what makes you think Ridge has any feelings for Cordelia, but I can promise you that you needn’t worry about that.”

“But Sammy . . .” Georgiana shook her head sadly and kept her eyes to the ground.

“Look at me, Georgie.” Samantha waited until Georgiana finally looked up. “I’ve known Ridge a long time. We stayed friends after you left. I know only one girl, or rather woman, who will ever be the one for Ridge.”

“But I told you, he never bothered to write,” Georgiana complained.

“Do you know that for sure?” Samantha questioned her. “I wrote to you, and you wrote to me. Where are those letters? Maybe he wrote you dozens of times. Until we find out what happened, we can’t assume anything.”

Georgiana still didn’t look convinced. She’d have to worry about that later. “Now listen, Georgie, we’d better hurry. If you don’t want to have to explain to Dawson why you look the way you do, we need to fix you up a bit.”

Samantha quickly walked over and poured some water from a pitcher onto a washcloth. Directing Georgiana to sit at her vanity, she handed her the cool cloth.

“Now, hold that over your eyes while I straighten your hair. It won’t take the redness and puffiness totally away, but it certainly will help.” For a minute Samantha feared Georgie was about to start crying again, so she put her arms around her friend’s shoulders and they both looked silently into the mirror for a moment. “Don’t worry, Georgie. Everything will work itself out.” Even if I have to help it along, she thought. She added out loud, “I promise.”