With Autumn's Return (Westward Winds Book #3): A Novel (23 page)

The sparkle in Jason’s eyes confirmed that Elizabeth had been right in her assumption that he was lonely. “I don’t want to impose.”

“It’s no imposition. Gwen likes to cook, and even more, she loves having people appreciate her food. I’ll see if she can be ready tomorrow.”

An hour later, with the meal complete and Harrison back in his own apartment, Elizabeth asked Gwen about inviting Jason for supper the next day. Rose was playing quietly in the corner of the parlor while Elizabeth and Gwen enjoyed one last cup of coffee at the dining room table.

Gwen’s eyes lit, and she nodded enthusiastically. “He’s perfect for you, you know.”

Though she was tempted to protest, Elizabeth knew the futility of it. “I won’t deny that I enjoy Jason’s company,” she admitted, “but we’re simply friends. I’m not ready for marriage, and Jason . . .” Elizabeth paused, searching for the right words. While she wanted to discourage Gwen’s speculation, she did not want to reveal the details of Jason’s childhood. She settled for saying, “Jason’s not interested in a woman like me.”

A knowing smile greeted her words. “You can say that if you like, but I know romance when I see it. I was right about Charlotte and Barrett, and I know I’m right about you and
Jason.” Gwen started humming Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March.”

Realizing there was nothing to be gained by arguing, Elizabeth decided to turn the tables. After draining her cup, she looked at her friend. “What about you and Harrison?” Elizabeth had seen the glances the two gave each other when they thought no one was watching. Gwen looked as if the sun rose and set on Harrison, and he appeared equally smitten with her. Though neither one had mentioned the word love, it shone from their eyes.

“Harrison is the most wonderful man I’ve met since Mike died. He’s warm and caring and he’s even managed to win Rose over.” A deep sigh accompanied Gwen’s admission. “The problem is, he sees me as just a friend. I don’t know what to do.”

Jason was whistling as he walked toward the livery. Though he’d considered taking the carriage, he’d decided to ride today. It would be faster, and he knew he’d enjoy the time on horseback.

His whistling became more melodic as he reflected on the past few days. This courtship business was easier and more pleasant than he’d expected. For three days now, he’d walked home with Elizabeth. Each day they took a different route, even though that meant traversing a greater distance. Elizabeth didn’t seem to mind, and Jason most definitely did not, for each day he learned something new about her.

Something about walking seemed to loosen her tongue. Or perhaps it was only the invigorating fall air. Whatever the reason, Elizabeth seemed more open and—dare he say it?—happier. Jason was happier too, for according to Richard,
the ugly rumors Oscar had tried to spread appeared to have died, and at least so far, no one had begun speculating on the reason Jason was spending more time with Elizabeth. That would change once they’d dined at the InterOcean. In the meantime, he would enjoy learning more about Cheyenne’s newest physician.

The day he’d told her the story of
Fédora’s
tragic ending, Jason had seen Elizabeth’s lips droop into a frown, and he’d realized that she was more sentimental than she might admit. Supper with Gwen, Rose, and Harrison had revealed a different facet to Elizabeth. Watching the gentle way she talked to Rose and the affectionate gestures she gave the little girl told Jason that whether or not she would admit it to herself, Elizabeth loved children, and not just as a doctor, a friend, or even an aunt. There was something distinctly maternal about the way she watched Rose, and—to Jason’s surprise—seeing her tenderness toward the child touched something deep inside him. Perhaps a husband and children weren’t as far from Elizabeth’s mind as she claimed.

He took a deep breath as he headed out of the city, reveling in the fresh air and the open spaces. Though tumbleweeds danced across the prairie, causing his horse to shy when one came too close, Jason’s grin only grew. For him there was nothing as beautiful as the vast expanse of Wyoming. It was no wonder men like Kevin Granger stayed, even though tragedy might have sent him back East. Farming in a settled area would have been easier than raising sheep in Wyoming, particularly with the increasing hostility between the cattle ranchers and sheep men, but Kevin had told Jason he was determined to raise his daughters here, on the land he and his beloved Ruby had chosen.

That was why Jason was on horseback today. He’d finished drafting the will, all except for the name of the guardian, and though he could have waited for Kevin to return to his office, he’d decided to save the man a trip into town. But the more important reason for his ride was to view the land Kevin treasured.

Jason tugged the reins when he saw wagon ruts leading to the left. Although no sign marked the entrance, he was certain this was the Granger ranch, Kevin and Ruby’s special place. Jason looked around as he approached the farmhouse. To his eyes, there was nothing distinctive about the land. It looked like the rest of the prairie he’d traversed. And yet Kevin claimed there was no place on Earth more beautiful.

The small house was pleasant. Only one story high, perhaps in deference to the strong winds that swept across the land most of the year, it appeared to have two additions to the rear. The chimney on one suggested it was a kitchen, while Jason suspected that the other provided expanded sleeping quarters. A family with three children needed more space than the original building afforded.

Hitching his horse to the railing, Jason admired the porch that lined the front of the house. Though not deep, it held two full-sized rocking chairs and three smaller ones. A pang of regret stabbed Jason when he realized that one of those rockers would remain empty, for he could not imagine Kevin sitting there with his daughters, accompanied by their housekeeper.

Jason gave the front door a brisk knock. “Mr. Granger. Kevin. It’s Jason Nordling,” he called when there was no answer.

A few seconds later, heavy footsteps followed by softer ones announced the approach of Kevin and at least one of
his daughters. “Come in.” Kevin swung the door open and ushered Jason into his house. As Jason had surmised, one of the girls stood at her father’s side, her eyes wide with curiosity. Jason tried to mask his own curiosity at Kevin’s attire. Though the man wore his normal work pants and shirt, he had a ruffled apron tied around his middle.

Kevin shrugged, as if he’d noticed the direction of Jason’s glance. “As you can see, I’m fixing dinner for the girls and me. There’s plenty if you’d care to join us.”

Though Jason hadn’t intended to do more than deliver the will, his stomach growled, reminding him that it had been hours since he’d eaten. “Something smells delicious.”

Kevin led the way through the front room, which apparently doubled as parlor and dining room, to the kitchen where a pot, redolent with some kind of spices, was simmering. Jason’s stomach grumbled again. Judging from the aroma, the stew promised to be as good as Gwen’s, and the smell of baking bread caused his mouth to water.

“You look surprised.” Kevin offered a crooked grin as he introduced his daughters to Jason. Rachel, the one who’d accompanied Kevin to the door, appeared shy, but her older sister Rebecca greeted Jason solemnly, while baby Ruby banged a wooden spoon against the tray of her high chair. All three girls shared their father’s dark brown hair and brown eyes, and Jason suspected they’d inherited their snub noses from their mother.

“Actually, I am surprised,” he admitted. “I thought you had a housekeeper.”

Kevin shrugged. “I did, but it turned out that three young girls were too much for her. They put up a big fuss every time I left, crying to beat the band. The housekeeper got so
frazzled she left, and the next two didn’t last a week. That’s why we’re muddling along by ourselves now.” When Jason raised an eyebrow, wondering how a rancher managed to work with three children nearby, Kevin continued. “They stay in the corral while I’m working close in. When I have to go any distance, I take the wagon instead of riding, and they sit in the back. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than worrying about what’s happening when I’m gone.”

Jason couldn’t help wondering what his life would have been like if his father had done something similar. The times the reverend had let Jason accompany him had been special, but they’d also been rare.

“I think you made the right decision,” he told the rancher. Then, not wanting to continue that discussion, he sniffed appreciatively and asked Kevin who had taught him to cook. “I never learned how,” Jason admitted. “Both my father and the housekeeper claimed it was women’s work.”

Kevin shrugged as he pulled four plates from one of the open shelves, directing the two older girls to carry only one at a time. The baby gurgled contentedly from her perch in the high chair. “Work is work. When Ruby and I were first married, before the babies arrived, we used to do most things together. She’d help me with the sheep, and I’d lend a hand around the house. Cooking and cleaning go a lot faster when there are two of you.”

Jason had never thought of it that way. There had never been any suggestion that he or his father would assist Mrs. Moran with chores like cooking and cleaning. Jason had helped in the stable, mucking out stalls and grooming the horse, but Mrs. Moran had milked the cow, gathered the eggs, and done all the household work.

“The way you and Ruby worked together sounds a bit like a partnership.”

Kevin nodded. “That’s the way we figured it. It was a mighty fine way to live, because it gave us more time together. Of course, it’s not so good when one of the partners is gone.” Sorrow filled his eyes as he gestured toward the stove. “I keep remembering how we used to cook together. Ruby taught me everything I know about cooking, and I taught her how to shear a sheep.”

Jason tried to picture Elizabeth shearing a sheep. Although the image of what her first attempts would be like was amusing, he suspected that if she set her mind to it, she would become a proficient shearer.

“Was Ruby good at it?” he asked.

Kevin shrugged. “Not really, but that didn’t stop her from trying. I know she tried just so we could be together. That made it special, even if the sheep got a few more nicks than they should have.” He stared out the window. “You probably don’t think much of this place. It probably looks like an ordinary ranch to you, but this is the place where Ruby and I lived and loved. That makes it beautiful to me.”

“Don’t you find it painful, being here without her?” Jason regretted his words the instant they were spoken. What kind of a man was he, reminding another of his loss?

“It is,” Kevin admitted, “but don’t get me wrong. Even though Ruby and I had a lot less time together than we’d expected, I wouldn’t have traded what we had for anything. She was one special lady.”

Like Elizabeth.

 16 

G
wen.”

She turned, so startled by the sound of his voice that her knife slipped, gouging the cake she’d been frosting. Her heart pounding, Gwen stared at Harrison. “What’s wrong?” Normally she would have heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs or the door opening, but somehow she’d been so preoccupied that she had been unaware of his approach. Harrison stood just inside the kitchen door, a perplexed expression on his face.

He shook his head, perhaps at Gwen’s question, perhaps at the mess she’d made of their dessert. “You certainly know how to take a man down a peg. Do you think the only reason I come here is to eat or carry bad tidings?”

Though she hadn’t expected it, his blue eyes reflected something that could have been pain. “I didn’t mean to insult you.” Far from that. The hours Gwen spent with Harrison were the highlight of her days. Usually her time with him
was limited to meals, but today for some reason, Harrison was here barely an hour after noon.

“Shall we start over?” As a smile crossed his face, Gwen returned it, pleased to see the pain—if that’s what it was—fading. “Good afternoon, Harrison. It’s a pleasure to see you.” And it was. He looked different today. His hair was freshly cut, and that was a new shirt he was wearing. If she hadn’t known better, Gwen would have thought today was a special day.

His smile broadened as he took another step into the apartment. “That’s better. It’s a pleasure to see you too.” He looked around, his eyes skimming over the small room. “Where’s Rose?”

“Taking a nap. She rarely does that, but she seemed more tired than usual today, so I put her to bed.” That had given Gwen the unexpected opportunity to frost a cake without Rose’s constant pleas for a taste.

“Then perhaps my plan should be postponed.” Harrison fixed his gaze on Gwen. “I have a favor to ask of you—a big favor.”

Gwen swirled the frosting, trying to hide the gouge she’d made, then laid the knife down, resisting the urge to lick it. The cake wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.

“I’ll help you any way I can.” Though she couldn’t imagine what possible assistance she could provide, she’d never refuse him.

“You know I was looking for a ranch where I could raise horses.” When she nodded, Harrison continued. “I found one that looks promising, but before I buy it, I wondered if you and Rose would visit it. I’d like your opinion.”

Gwen’s heart began to pound at the thought that this man,
this wonderful man, wanted her opinion. “Today? What about the store?” It had been only a few weeks since Landry Dry Goods had opened, and Harrison had reported that the early surge of customers continued.

“Daniel can take care of it. I really want you and Rose to see the ranch today.”

He sounded sincere, and that made Gwen’s pulse surge. “I don’t know a lot about ranches,” she cautioned him.

“But you do know about houses. That’s where I need help.”

Gwen glanced at the parlor clock. “Rose should be waking any minute.” It had already been half an hour, and that was usually the limit of her daughter’s naps.

As if on cue, Rose emerged from the room they shared, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Mama, why is Mr. Landry here? It’s not suppertime yet.”

“No, it’s not. He wants to take us on a ride. Would you like that?” It was a rhetorical question, for Rose would do anything to be close to a horse.

“Oh yes!” She flashed Harrison her brightest smile. “Let’s go now.”

“I hope you won’t regret this. My daughter can be a bit rambunctious,” Gwen said as she gathered coats and bonnets for herself and Rose. Though the October sun was bright, the air would cool quickly as the afternoon progressed.

“I don’t mind.” While Rose scampered down the stairs, Harrison and Gwen followed more slowly. “I thought we’d take the wagon,” he said, pointing toward the street where his horse was hitched. “The ranch is about three quarters of an hour from here. I figured Rose would be happier in the back.”

She was. Rose had insisted on bringing her doll with her and spent the time pointing out sights to the doll while Gwen
simply enjoyed being with Harrison. “Tell me about the ranch,” she said when they’d left the city, headed east. For a second as they’d driven south on Ferguson, she’d feared that the ranch Harrison wanted to buy was the one where she’d spent the worst night of her life. When he turned east, the sickening dread had drained away. That ranch had been west of the city. She would never have to see it again.

“It’s not big, at least not by Wyoming standards,” Harrison said with a self-deprecating smile. “Only forty acres, but the grass looks rich, and there’s a small creek. The owner said it has water all year.” The enthusiasm in Harrison’s voice left no doubt that he was excited about the prospect of the ranch. “The house is smaller than I would have liked, but I can always add to it.”

“How much space does one man need?” she asked. Harrison had told Gwen that he didn’t intend to hire help, that he would raise only as many horses as he could handle by himself.

His jaw tightened and he looked away for a moment. When his eyes met Gwen’s again, his expression was hooded, and his voice sounded almost strangled as he said, “I was hoping I wouldn’t be living there alone.”

“Of course.” No wonder Harrison was so ill at ease. It had to be awkward for him to refer to a future wife in front of another woman. It was more than awkward for Gwen. It was painful. And so she turned toward the back of the wagon under the guise of checking on Rose.

When she had regained her composure, Gwen asked Harrison about the breeds of horses he planned to raise. The conversation remained on safe ground until they arrived at the ranch. Other than the small house and a couple outbuildings,
there was no sign of habitation. Though the sole spindly tree near the house had lost its leaves, the row of cottonwoods whose presence marked the banks of the stream had a few leaves clinging to their gnarled branches.

“The owners moved back East,” Harrison said as he helped Gwen down from the wagon, “but they left most of their furnishings.” He looked at Rose, who was racing toward the outbuildings, her feet churning up dust. “Is it all right to leave her outside while we go in?”

Gwen nodded as she studied the house that Harrison planned to share with his bride. Though it had once been white, the sun and wind had taken their toll on the modest structure, leaving it in need of at least one coat of paint. Had it been her home, Gwen would have added a porch on the east side. Protected from the wind, it would be a pleasant spot to linger after supper, talking about the day that had just passed, making plans for the next.

“What do you think?” To Gwen’s surprise, Harrison sounded almost nervous.

Unsure of what to say, she told him the truth. “It needs a porch.”

“A porch?”

“Yes. With a swing.” Gwen’s eyes narrowed as she envisioned herself sitting on that swing. It wouldn’t happen, but it didn’t hurt to dream.

Harrison inclined his head. “I like that idea. A porch swing makes a house a home.”

It was silly to feel so elated, simply because he shared her opinion, but Gwen’s spirits rose and she was smiling as they entered the house. Though not much larger than the apartment she shared with Elizabeth, it felt more spacious,
perhaps because the walls were whitewashed rather than being papered. The interior consisted of one large room that served as a parlor and dining room, with a medium-sized bedroom on one side and a kitchen grafted onto the back.

Looking at the scarred table and chairs and the straight-backed upholstered chairs that created a sitting area in the parlor, Gwen wondered about the people who had lived here. What dreams had brought them here, and why had they left? Though there was something sad about the half-furnished house, the rooms also seemed filled with possibility. Perhaps that was what had attracted Harrison.

“It’s very nice,” she said honestly. “All you need are some curtains and rugs and it’ll feel like home.” As she pronounced the words, Gwen’s mind conjured the picture of red gingham curtains and a braided rag rug in the dining area, solid red curtains and a hooked rug in the parlor. A couple soft pillows would transform the uncomfortable-looking upholstered chairs into a pleasant sitting area, while a brightly colored quilt would enliven the bedroom. It wouldn’t take much to turn this into a real home.

Her mind whirled with the image of herself hanging those curtains, then laughing when Harrison didn’t notice the difference. Mike hadn’t cared how she decorated their house, and she suspected Harrison would be no different.
Silly girl
, she chastised herself.
There’s no point in dreaming about things that
will never happen.
“It’s a nice house,” she said after she cleared her throat.

Harrison pursed his lips. “There’s no room for children, though.”

Children. Of course. He would want children as well as a wife. “You’ll have plenty of time before a baby arrives,” Gwen
said as calmly as she could, while all the while her stomach roiled. She gestured toward the south wall. “You can put a door there. Once you open the wall, the room can be as big as you want. You could even have two rooms if you have a lot of children.” She absolutely would not picture Harrison holding an infant in his arms, smiling at the baby, then giving the child’s mother a loving look.

Oblivious to her inner distress, Harrison seemed to relax. “So you like it? Would you be comfortable living here?”

It was a rhetorical question. Gwen wouldn’t delude herself into thinking he meant anything special by it. She’d made that mistake before, believing that a man cared for her and wanted to marry her. She wouldn’t fall into that trap again.

“It’s a lovely home, Harrison.” By some miracle, her voice sounded bright and cheerful. “Any woman would be happy to live here.”

Though she’d thought she had managed to allay his fears, he still looked dubious. “Mrs. Rodgers wasn’t. That’s why they moved back East. She hated the wind and being so far from town.”

“That’s unfortunate for her and her husband, although it’s good for you, isn’t it?” Gwen walked to the west window to check on Rose. As she’d expected, her daughter was walking more slowly now, but she appeared to be studying everything about the ranch. Gwen wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Rose was counting blades of grass. Of course, she couldn’t count very high, so that pastime was often a frustrating one.

Gwen turned around and smiled at Harrison. “It’s amazing how different we all are. I grew up on a farm. I was so used to open spaces that it was an adjustment when Mike and I lived at Fort Russell. I wasn’t comfortable having so many
people so close, but I adjusted. I’m sure your wife will too.” Gwen wouldn’t think about how often she’d dreamed about being that woman. No matter how deeply she cared about him, she knew that a man like Harrison Landry would never marry a woman like her. “I’d better check on Rose,” she said, though there was no need.

Deliberately pushing thoughts of Harrison’s wife aside, Gwen resolved to enjoy the rest of the afternoon, and she did. Rose was happier than Gwen had seen her in months. Just running from the barn to the house to the chicken coop seemed to thrill her, and when Harrison showed her where he planned to locate the corral, she was ecstatic, begging him to bring her back when the horses arrived. The sparkle in Rose’s eyes and the color in her cheeks told Gwen that her daughter loved the outdoors. If this were their home, Rose would thrive here. But it wasn’t, and Gwen had to remember that.

She looked at Harrison. He’d lifted Rose onto his shoulders when the child had, in typical Rose fashion, declared that the view would be better if she were taller. Once perched on his shoulders, in another change of mood so characteristic of Rose, she had decided that Harrison was a horse and that he should take her for a ride. He’d acceded to her demand, trotting around the house once. Now he placed her back on the ground, saying firmly, “That’s enough for today. This is an old horse.”

While Rose scampered off to the chicken coop, Gwen darted a glance at Harrison. Perhaps it was her imagination, but he still seemed nervous. He’d been his old self while he was playing with Rose, but now that he was alone with Gwen, he seemed ill at ease. That was unlike Harrison, but today was unlike any other time they had spent together. He must have
felt as uncomfortable talking about his future wife as Gwen had knowing she was passing judgment on another woman’s home. No way around it, it was an awkward situation.