Chapter 4
Rand clenched his jaw and glanced in the direction of Sarah. He wasn’t sure what she was thinkin’, but from the pained looked on her face, it was anything but pleasant.
Maybe he’d be better off backing down from Edwinna, but he wasn’t known for walking away from anything, and this wild woman, full of accusations, had just about used up all of the patience Rand allocated for any given person.
“No ma’am, I didn’t forget. They’ve been here only a few minutes. Whether you are in a mind to believe me or not, I was on my way to tell you.” He wasn’t sure the woman even deserved that much of an explanation. He reckoned he was in a more charitable mood than he realized.
She didn’t bother to answer, but turned in Sarah’s direction. “I’m glad you are here.” Glancing around the room, she continued, “Where are your bags, dear? I’m ready to leave.”
“Nice to see you too, Aunt Edwinna.” The hurt in Sarah’s voice could be heard above the roaring fire. “Our bags are—”
Edwinna cut her off and whirled back at Rand. “I have a room at the hotel, and I’ll send my driver to pick up her carriage and a fresh team first thing in the morning, so make sure it’s ready.”
Casting his gaze over to Sarah, Rand saw tears well in her eyes. She took a deep breath and looked away, emphasizing her hurt. He suspected that she bore rejection somewhat like a war hero might wear a badge of courage.
He’d walked slap-dab into a sticky situation. As much as he hated to admit it, he was a lot of things, but allowing a woman to be mistreated, if only with words, was something he would not tolerate. He’d seen too much of it in his life.
Rand had been raised to respect women, but Edwinna Dewey needed a serious dressing down, and it didn’t matter whether she ever spoke to him again or not. As a matter of fact, if she’d ignore him for being a gentleman and sticking up for her niece, he’d ignore her being a total battle-ax . . . the rest of his born days wouldn’t be too long.
“Edwinna.” It felt good to go one-on-one with the ol’ hag on a first-name basis. “You can either stew in the pot of your own making or join Sarah for tea. It makes no never mind to me, but the kids are asleep and Sarah is extremely weary and doesn’t need any of your malarkey.” He remembered his manners before Sarah had to remind him, and continued. “Sarah’s been from hell to Georgia and back just to come see you, so I’m thinkin’ you could make her visit pleasant. The choice is yours.” He took a deep breath. “While you two talk, I’m gonna see what is taking Jim so long getting the team settled in.”
Rand might as well have tossed kindling and a match on Edwinna’s outlook on life. The older woman took two steps backward, and if a look could kill, he’d rightfully be laid out at the undertaker’s by the time the snow was over. She whirled toward her niece.
“Well, are you going to let him talk to me like that?” Edwinna closed the umbrella and crossed her arms over her ample chest.
By the look on Sarah’s face, Rand suspected it took every bit of courage for her to face her aunt and try to avoid a nasty confrontation. “Rand, we need to talk about your brother—”
“Half brother,” Edwinna interrupted, and patted her foot impatiently.
Sarah looked at Rand for confirmation. He nodded.
“I apologize. I should have realized your and Mr. Crockett’s kinship, since you don’t share the same last name.”
“Different mothers,” Rand interjected. The why and what for of his older, wayward sibling’s existence wasn’t something Rand relished talking about to anyone. The fact that Jim was conceived in a night of heavy gambling, freeflowing liquor, and loose women many years before their father married Rand’s mother was nobody’s concern. Big Jim Crockett was a grown man long before Rand was ever a gleam in his father’s eyes.
Checking on the horses could wait. He needed to find out what Sarah wanted to discuss concerning his half brother. Jim Crockett did a lot of things Rand didn’t approve of, particularly his carelessness with money and his reckless behavior, but he’d never known him to be anything but a gentleman when it came to women and children, or to be derelict in his duties handling animals. Unfortunately, those were about the only good qualities Rand could think of at the moment. Surely he had more.
“Let’s go to the kitchen and get some coffee. We can talk there,” said Rand.
Before Sarah could answer, Edwinna piped up. “My dear Sarah, your dilly-dallying has made it abundantly clear that you have no plans on returning to the hotel with me at the moment, but since they will stop serving supper shortly, I’m going back, and I expect you to join me the moment the children are awake.” With her fingertips, she pushed a tad of melting snow off her hat and let it slip onto the floor. “Although you could wake them up and come along now, saving yourself a lot of embarrassment. Just so my position is clear, I do not approve of you spending any more time than is absolutely necessary with Mr. Humphrey, and certainly not another second with Mr. Crockett, either.”
“Aunt Edwinna, I’m painfully aware of your feelings toward Mr. Humphrey, but I am a grown woman who knows how to handle myself. I can assure you there will be no improprieties, but we have important business that must be discussed.”
Huffing like the wild, west Texas wind in a foul mood, the old maid grabbed for her umbrella and in doing so knocked it to the floor. “I expect you at the Springs Hotel within the hour.”
“Miz Dewey, I’ll walk you back to the hotel.” Rand grabbed his hat. “I sure as hell don’t want to be blamed should something happen to you along the way.”
“No need.” Edwinna snatched up the umbrella from where it had landed and popped the dern thing open. “I’m a grown woman.” She mocked Sarah as she stomped out the door into a wall of stark white snow.
A gust of strong north wind stampeded across the room.
“I wonder if your aunt knows that if you open a black umbrella inside it’ll rain bad luck on you.” Rand walked to the door and slammed it shut before returning his Stetson to the hat rack.
“Or if a woman drops one she must ask someone else to pick it up, because if she is single and picks up an umbrella herself, she’ll never marry,” Sarah added.
“It’s gotta be black. And it’s sure good to know there’s a bunch of single men out there who can breathe a big sigh of relief right about now.” Rand chuckled.
They locked gazes and both burst into laughter.
Rand enjoyed the way Sarah laughed. As much as he desperately wanted to resist her captivating smile, her warm and enchanting humor drew him to her like a hummingbird to sugar water.
As much as Rand hated to find out what Sarah had to tell him about his half brother, he couldn’t delay it much longer. They walked to the kitchen.
“Okay, tell me what Jim did this time.” Rand placed two cups on the table.
“It’s easy to see you’re nothing like Mr. Crockett, so that makes it harder for me to say what I have to say.” Sarah wrapped her hands around the hot cup of tea.
The more Sarah talked, telling Rand about how Jim Crockett had brought her and the children to the edge of town and literally dropped them off, explaining that he had business to take care of, and that his agreement with her aunt Edwinna only called for getting them to Kasota Springs safely, the madder Rand got.
Furor rose from the depths of his stomach, and he clenched his jaw. “So he just dumped you off to walk from the edge of town to my place?”
She nodded. “But it wasn’t all that far, and he gave me good directions.”
Rand corralled the anger milling around inside him. With a town consisting of a square with buildings surrounding it and a railhead at one end, even an infrequent visitor wouldn’t need directions . . . except for tonight with the snow. About the time she arrived, unless one was very versed with the location of the various stores in town, the lack of visibility would make it easy to go off in the wrong direction and end up lost in open range. Lucky, the blacksmith shop was a straight shot into town.
“Regardless, he should have made sure you were safe and sound before he went off to do God only knows what.” He wanted to add,
probably to drink whiskey and take up with some loose woman . . . just like his father—our father.
“Rand, he was really a gentleman, kind to the twins, and I honestly think the trip took longer than he’d anticipated because of the weather.” She looked up into Rand’s eyes. “So please, don’t be angry at him.”
Anger continued to rise within Rand. “Did he say what was so important?”
She shook her head. “Just that he’d make sure our luggage and the carriage were returned the first opportunity he got.”
“And that was about an hour ago.” Rand tried to put things in chronological order. Although the walk from the edge of town to the blacksmith’s shop didn’t take all that long, with the deplorable weather conditions, not to mention two children to contend with, Jim would have had time to steal the money from the bazaar and disappear. The carriage would be too burdensome, and certainly noticeable, so he probably dumped it near the hotel and walked the rest of the way into town. The only thing Rand could do now was go find Jim Crockett and see that the money raised for the orphanage was returned.
“I’ll be right back.” He pulled his big frame to his feet and shot her an almost smile. “I’ve got to go check on the horses. Make yourself at home. If you’re hungry there’s chicken and dumplin’s that my helper’s mother sent over for dinner. After I get back, I’ll take you and the children to the hotel.” He stopped, then topped it off with, “If you want.”
She returned a smile that set his heart racing. Unlike the storm brewing outside, her eyes were as radiant as summer lightning, but it was her words that caught him off guard. “Hopefully, it won’t take you long. It’s been a while since I’ve had such enjoyable company.”
On his way out, Rand stoked the fire to make certain it would keep the great room warm while he was gone. He wasn’t sure how to respond to Sarah’s comment, since he wasn’t accustomed to receiving compliments, so he had only nodded. Sarah Callahan must be
loco
or lived a very boring existence if he was the best company she’d enjoyed in a while.
Sarah followed him to the door, and he felt her eyes on him as he pulled on his heavy sheepskin coat and Stetson and headed into a flurry of white, wet snow. He pulled the door closed, separating him from the most pleasant woman he believed he’d been around for a long time.
At least not since . . .
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and forced himself to remember his pledge. He’d never be guilty of comparing one woman with another.
Circling the building, even through the heavy snow he spied the carriage that Jim had driven to Carroll Creek to fetch Sarah and the children. Rand got busy checking it out, making sure the buggy was protected from the elements and that the horses were properly cared for.
But everywhere the blacksmith turned, flashes of Sarah got in his way. Visions of her slender, willowy body with a strength that didn’t overshadow her femininity danced in his head. From the second he saw her, even with a big coat on and a hat covered with snow, he knew she was somebody he wouldn’t mind riding the river with.
He couldn’t keep his mind off the way she looked when she knelt down to put the socks on the children. Wisps of hair the color of a wheat field framed her face. And when the lace at her throat had parted, he hadn’t been able to keep his gaze away from the hollow of the neck filled with soft shadows. Then she looked up at him with fiery blue eyes the color of the Texas sky on a clear day. Eyes that glowed with a challenge.
Dang it, and the only thing he was able to come up with was some cockamamie question about fixin’ some milk for the children.
What a way of making sure old feelings didn’t have a chance to surface.
Frustration reared its ugly head. Rand found her nearness disturbing. Yet, in only a matter of minutes, she’d managed to open wounds that he thought were well on their way to healing. The sickening, familiar swell of pain ripped through him. Sarah had penetrated his being and touched his soft core in record time. Generally, he would never enter into another’s family business, but he recognized the hurt in Sarah’s eyes and felt the need to protect her from her own aunt.
A flash of unadulterated guilt ripped through him. Damn it, he’d thought he’d managed to steer clear of the wrenching pain and shame for the loss of his wife, especially since the anniversary of her tragic death was on the horizon—Christmas Eve. Three days short of three years. Maybe holding on to blame was his way of keeping the hurt at bay or covering it up or ignoring it . . . or at least a way to make sure he never got hurt again.
Walking into the stables he saw Big Tex and Bushwhacker, the horses who had brought Sarah and the children to Kasota Springs, in their stalls. Apparently happy to be out of the snow, they kept their heads in the feed sacks, more interested in the oats than Rand.
Near the door sat a relatively big trunk, not nearly as large as Rand’s mother’s Saratoga, along with two smaller traveling bags. So far, Jim had kept his word.
Rand took another gander around. Everything seemingly was in place, yet something was missing.