A Grand Teton Sleigh Ride: Four Generations of Wyoming Ranchers Celebrate Love at Christmas (12 page)

“I’ve been meaning to ask your father about buying a horse from him, or if he knows anyone with a good mount. I’ve borrowed and rented a horse, here and there, when I need to go out to ranches. But I’m at the point now when I could use a horse. In the spring, that is.”

“He should know someone. I’ll mention it to him at supper tonight.”

“Thank you.” It was a flimsy excuse. He could have asked any number of people about buying a horse, including Edgar or even Sven Olsen, but he trusted Zebulon Covington’s judgment. “Well, thank your father for me, also, about the opportunity to do business with him.”

“I will.” She paused, then opened her mouth to continue, then closed it again as if reconsidering her next words.

“Yes? Were you going to say something else?”

“Ah, I’m sure Mother won’t mind if you stay for supper. I’ll … I’ll have some work with the dogs to do, but it would be very nice to see you at supper.” Her cheeks bloomed a deep shade of pink.

“Why, I’d like that very much, too.” He watched a wagon pass by, the driver reining in the team. Gus Tolliver came over the pass. And sitting next to him, wide-eyed and chattering away, sat Amelia Clark.

What on earth? Surely his eyes deceived him.

“Wonder why they’re stopping here.” Emily glanced his way. She probably saw his dismay, shock, as Amelia stepped down from the wagon with Gus’s assistance. Amelia squinted up at the building. Her face brightened and she waved.

“That’s …”

Footsteps sounded on the steps as Amelia made quick work to get to the door.

It opened and she stepped inside, accompanied by a swirl of cold air.

“William, I made it.” Amelia shut the door firmly behind her. “Mr. Tolliver is taking my bags to the inn, but I thought I would stop here first.”

Emily’s gaze bored into him. “William?”

“Ah, Emily Covington, this is Amelia Clark.”

“Good afternoon.” Amelia’s gaze traveled from Emily’s braid, her hat askew, until it settled on the hem of her trousers and her boots’ toes. “How do you do?”

“Very well, thank you.” Emily inclined her head briefly.

“I’m William’s fiancée.”

“I see. I wasn’t aware William had a fiancée.” Emily’s voice held the slightest edge. Her eyes held a hint of white-blue lightning that only Will could recognize. She nodded at him. “Mr. Adams, we’ll see you next Friday at the ranch, if not at church service on Sunday.”

She left, allowing a fresh blast of cold air into the office.

Emily knew she shouldn’t be angry. Yet she feared the piles of snow might melt as she passed them on the way to the hitching rail. Cinnamon tugged on the lead.

“Hang on, Cinnamon. We’ll be out of here, lickety-split.” She slung the lead over the saddle horn before gathering the reins and sticking her foot in the stirrup then swinging up onto Cinnamon’s back. She ought to have done the errands first, and she’d be on her way back home. But no, she had to ride to the general store yet and get the shopping done.

Fiancée. He’d never mentioned a fiancée to her, not during the months he’d been in Jackson. If he was engaged, surely he’d have mentioned it to someone in Jackson?

She allowed her anger to burn out as she exhaled. Thankfully, Cinnamon’s moments of friskiness were over, for now anyway. She nodded to the Olsens, passing by on their sleigh, the one with the cushioned seats. The couple had been her parents’ friends since before she was born, yet they still exchanged glances as if they’d been courting for mere weeks.

She hadn’t seen glances like that between Will and Amelia, but if he’d found his match, she would wish him well. No matter that since the night of his rescue in the hills, she’d scarcely been able to keep him out of her mind. Well, she’d let the thoughts go.

All this time, all these years, she’d spurned the attentions of eligible men in Jackson. There went one now, tipping his hat to her as he rode by. A woman had to have standards, something her mother always told her. Pa didn’t say much about her lack of finding a husband, but as the years ticked along, she imagined Pa had to be a bit concerned. Twenty-eight on her next birthday, and she was a bit “long in the tooth,” as the whisper had come from the next aisle in the store one day.

They plodded through the mixture of slush and mud, all the way to the livery, where Emily would keep Cinnamon while she shopped in the store. Mother needed a few things and the weather was good, so Emily could cover the miles back and forth from town without a problem. Today, she’d take the dogs out for a run before supper.

She made quick work at getting Cinnamon settled in a stall then headed for the store. Some salt, other spices, and a sack of flour. Mother intended to begin baking soon, for Thanksgiving next week then Christmas after that.

Emily entered the general store, welcomed by a blast of warmth from the cast-iron stove.

“Howdy.” Tom, the shopkeeper, looked up from his place at the counter. “See you made it in on this fine day.”

“Yes, sir. Mother needs a few things, so I offered to come to town.” She wandered over toward the bolts of cloth and touched a deep burgundy muslin. It would make a lovely skirt to go along with her favorite shirtwaist for Sunday mornings. She could always make something out of denim, a split skirt, which would be ladylike and yet more practical than the pretty muslin in front of her.

“The cloth’s new, came on one of the most recent shipments. How much do you want?”

“None today, but thank you. I’d best get my list taken care of, Tom.”

“You just say the word, and I’ll get it all tallied for you.”

“Thanks.” Emily pulled the list from her coat pocket and set to work. Daylight was burning and she needed to head home, and to forget about William Adams being engaged.

Less than thirty minutes later, in record time for her, she had her purchases in a burlap sack she’d attached to the rear of the saddle, along with a sack of flour. She headed away from Jackson. She didn’t even glance at Will’s tiny storefront office as she passed, although she might have heard someone calling out her name.

Home. She needed to be home. Mother would hear her out, as she always did.

But part of her had allowed herself to imagine a life with Will, here in the West. He’d returned—not for her, but for whatever part of his life here he’d missed the most. Perhaps she’d been fooling herself to believe part of the reason was her.

Somebody was hightailing it out of town behind her, the trotting horse’s hooves making a squishing sound on the trail.

“Emily Covington, would you slow down for a moment?”

Will.

She reined in Cinnamon, pivoting the horse to face back toward Jackson. “What do you want, Will?”

“I need to explain.” His horse halted beside Cinnamon.

“You found a horse awfully fast.” She studied the scrappy-looking gray, one of the horses from the livery.

“I borrowed it. I tried to get to the livery before you left.”

“Will, it’s all right. You don’t have to explain. I wish I’d known about Amelia, but I do wish you both the best. When is the wedding? Will it be here, or back East?” She let the words stream out then stopped herself. She sounded like a child and had no reason to be testy.

“Amelia
was
my fiancée. I broke our engagement not long before I moved to Jackson. But she and my mother remain very close.”

“Evidently she believes you’re still engaged.”

“She wants to see how life is here in Jackson, to show me she’s up to the challenge. It was one of the things we disagreed about. She didn’t want to move to Jackson.”

“Where is she now?”

“She’s staying at Ma Reed’s, where the Crabtrees are renting her a room. I suggested she check with them, as I didn’t want her wandering through Jackson, not knowing anyone else.”

Emily nodded. “Good idea.” She remained silent. He’d given her his explanation. So he wasn’t engaged. But then Miss Amelia Clark intended to stay, presumably to win back Will.

“I don’t know how long she’s going to stay.” Will frowned. “I’m going to persuade her it’ll be best for her to head back over the pass, to the train, and out of here. She has no idea what winters are like in this part of the country. She said the snow is beautiful, and what fun it would be to take a sleigh ride through the Elk Sanctuary.”

“If she doesn’t leave soon, she could be trapped here for the winter.” Cinnamon took a few steps sideways, but Emily quieted him. “Unless that’s what you want.”

Will stared at his mount’s mane.

Say something
.

But she had no right to demand any answer or explanation. Maybe she’d imagined the possibilities between them. Imagining could be a dangerous thing. She had too much to do to waste time on imagining.

Cinnamon took a few jogging steps, jolting her. “I should go. Cinnamon’s carrying more of a load than usual today with this flour, and I have chores to see to.”

Before Will could say anything more, she set Cinnamon into a trot and headed toward home.

S
o, what has you looking like a pile of rain-soaked clouds tonight?” Mother’s words were gentle, yet probing as only a mother’s words could be. “You didn’t say much during supper.”

Emily sat on a pile of straw in the dogs’ corner of the barn. She shook her head. “I’m confused about my feelings.”

“Feelings about a particular young lawyer?”

“Yes.” Emily petted Niki, who’d lain her head on her lap. “Ever since Will’s come back … I don’t know. We were only children when he left so suddenly, and now I’ve gotten to know William Adams, the man.”

“But?”

“Oh, Mother, he was engaged before he came here. He broke it off, right before he moved to Jackson. They’d disagreed about him moving west, so … he left anyway.”

Mother sighed then joined Emily on the straw pile, arranging her skirt just so. Mother always succeeded at being just so. Emily didn’t know how she did it.

“How did you know he was engaged? When did you find out?”

“Today. When Miss Amelia Clark arrived from over the pass.”

“Ah, I see. Is their engagement back on?”

“No. Well, according to Will, it’s not. Will said Amelia wants to try life here in Jackson, to show him she can do it.”

“Well, I know from firsthand experience how difficult that first winter can be.”

Emily nodded. She knew the story. Her mother, alone and grieving the loss of her sister and brother-in-law, and Pa being the one who helped watch over her. Mother, however, was the strongest woman Emily knew. Strong, and elegant.

“I wonder if Will is going to change his mind if Amelia does stay. But then, I really don’t know if he cares for me. Like I said, we were children …”

“Does he know how you feel?”

“But Mother, it’s not my place to tell him. After all, it’s not proper.” She had to smile at using one of her mother’s favorite phrases.

“Funny, my dear. You have to at least give him a strong hint to know you’re interested in his attention, and more than the attention of a childhood friend.”

“I did let him know that when he meets with Pa next week, I’d like him to stay for supper because we haven’t had much of a chance to see each other lately.”

“Well then, it should be very clear to him you’re interested.”

“What should I do? Get a new dress? I don’t have time to sew anything. And my hair is so …”

“Hard to manage? It’s not for nothing I suggested those hundred strokes every night, at which you always balked.”

Emily chuckled at the recollection of pleading from Mother and tears from her at the thought of brushing her hair every night. “I was a bit stubborn.”

“Be yourself, hair and all.” Mother stroked Emily’s braid. “And I’ll be happy to help you with your hair.” She fell silent for a moment.

“What is it?”

“Oh, I’m thinking back to my old friend, Rosemary Smythe.”

“Mrs. Rosemary Templeton? Your friend in Boston?”

Mother nodded. “Mrs. Rosemary Smythe Templeton. Had her sights on your father at one time. Before I noticed him. But her heart was back East, and that’s where she ended up. Married well, and not to the man of her first choosing. So take heart. If Miss Clark’s interest in Will is but a passing fancy, that will become apparent soon enough. A romantic notion doesn’t have the lasting strength of true love’s commitment.”

“Thank you, Mother.” She hugged her mother. “I’m sorry I’ve been so difficult, pants and all. I’m sorry I’m not comfortable dressing up.”

“You are still a lady, and you are still my daughter. I wouldn’t want to have anyone else to raise, and I’m proud of you.” Mother kissed her cheek. “Now, chin up. God will make both yours and Will’s paths clear.”

Emily’s throat swelled with a lump. “I hope and pray so.”

“And Christmas is coming. Christmas is always a special time, and we have much to do to prepare.” Mother stood, brushing straw from her skirt. “Now, why don’t you take a hot bath tonight and have a good soak in the tub?”

“But it’s not Saturday.”

“Piffle. Go ahead and take one anyway. Sometimes a lady needs some pampering. And I’ll let you use a bar of soap from my gift set.”

“Thank you, that sounds luxurious.” Emily stood, and the dogs all hopped to their feet as well. “No, we’re not going anywhere tonight.” Maybe tomorrow she’d take them for a good run in the Elk Refuge.