Rocky Mountain Oasis (17 page)

The rain came down harder now, the soothing muted sound vibrating through the roof. Conversation around the table was light and congenial, and Brooke relaxed until Jed offered, “I got a room, Sky. You cain’t travel home in these here cats and dogs. I’ll just go an’ make sure that everything is in tip shape for you an’ the Missus.”

Sky said, “That’s fine, Jed.”

Brooke rubbed her hands together in front of her. She looked around the room, trying to appear casual, but her gaze collided with Sky’s and she saw that he understood the deep turmoil churning within her. He took a sip of coffee, his eyes holding hers. Over the rim of the mug, his dark eyes were soft and tender, dropping momentarily to her hands as he set the cup on the table, and then moving back to her face. He shook his head almost imperceptibly and she knew that he was reminding her of his promise.

The trouble was, she didn’t know if she wanted him to keep that promise anymore.

Realizing that they were staring at one another, they both tore their eyes away at the same time, turning toward Fraser. He had stopped eating and grinned at them, his knife and fork pointed at the ceiling and unmoving by his plate. “It’s nice that things worked out for you two,” he said, eyes twinkling.

Brooke wondered what he meant, but before she could ask, Jed returned. “The room’s all set, Sky, and don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. You look at this here stay as a sort o’ weddin’ present.”

“Thank you, Jed.” Sky downed the last of his coffee, stood, and pulled Brooke’s chair out for her. Leading the way across the room, he held the door to the hallway open. As she passed through, he followed close behind.

The room that Jed had prepared for them was comfortably furnished, if somewhat bachelor-like in appearance. The bed, which Brooke noticed first, had its head pushed against the middle of the right-hand wall. It had no head or foot board but was supported on a frame of logs that rested directly on the floor. The quilts, though somewhat faded and ragged in appearance, looked clean. The room’s only oil lamp sat on a small stone ledge inset into the log wall to the right of the bed. One small window in the far wall looked out onto the alley between Jed’s boarding house and Fraser’s Mercantile.

Lightning flashed and Brooke caught a glimpse of the rain streaking down from the heavens. The following rumble of thunder caused a shiver to run down her spine and she turned, without moving her feet, to finish her examination of the room. The only furnishing in the room, other than the bed, was a washstand next to the door, a broken piece of mirror hanging on the wall above it.

Brooke heard the latch click shut. She stood with her back to the door and waited for Sky to speak. She felt, more than saw him approach, stopping just behind her. “Brooke?”

She turned slowly after a brief pause, her eyes not rising any higher than the V at the neck of his buckskin shirt. If he asked, she would give him permission to touch her. That decision she had already made. Still, she knew she didn’t feel prepared to take this next step. She now knew he would never force himself on her. She didn’t fear him. No, her nervousness stemmed from the fact that this night might propel their relationship onto a whole new level. And she didn’t know if she was ready for that.
I don’t want to love this man— any man.
It was too risky.

Sky bent down until her eyes met his. “Do you think this room will suit your needs?”

A frown creased her forehead at the word
your,
but she turned to survey the room once more. “It’s fine.” She gestured to the room in general.

“Good. Then I’ll see you in the morning, all right?” He stared into her face with concerned eyes, making sure she really was all right.

She looked up at him questioningly, and not until he turned toward the door did she realize that he meant to leave. “Sky?” She suddenly knew she
wanted
him to stay.

He paused, his hand on the latch, looking back at her.

“Where will you sleep?” He shrugged.

“It’s pouring rain, Sky, and you don’t have any blankets.”

He merely looked at her, not saying a word, just shrugging again.

Brooke stared down at her hands, but when she heard him start to open the door, she blurted, “You can sleep in here if you like.” Her heart hammered in her ears.

He shut the door and leaned his shoulder into it, folding his arms and crossing his ankles casually, the toe of one boot resting on the floor. The light from the lamp cast golden highlights on his hair and he gazed at her, tenderness in his dark eyes. “You sure?”

Brooke nodded, looking down at her hands.

“Brooke?”

She glanced up.

“Thank you.”

She nodded and blushed. He could have forced her to do anything he wanted, but he stood here thanking her for allowing him to sleep indoors on a rain-soaked night.

He walked purposefully toward the bed, removing one blanket and one pillow. Spreading them on the floor between the bed and the door, he removed his hat, boots, and the belt that sheathed his knife and stretched out, hands behind his head.

Brooke stood still, watching all of this as relief flooded her heart. Sky was so understanding.

He watched her now, a slight smile playing on his generous mouth, one eyebrow raised. “Do you sleep standing up?” he teased.

She smiled wryly, shaking her head, and moved toward the bed, blowing out the lamp as she went.

Sitting out in the main room of the boarding house, Jed smiled as he poured himself another cup of coffee. It was good to know that he still had the touch. His cat-like ears had heard the bedroom door open and then close again, and now there was no sound coming from the hallway. He had stayed up, so he could offer Sky the floor of his room when he came through to go outside, but his plan had worked better than even he had hoped.

At dinner it was obvious both of the young people were hopelessly attracted to each other, but tension hummed between them like a tight wire. Time spent together would take care of that. He’d figured maybe they needed some help—a little prodding in the right direction. The rain had been a godsend. Finishing the last of his coffee, he headed down the hallway toward his own room.

Just inside the darkened forest east of town he crouched, cursing the pouring rain. He moved closer to the trunk of the tree under which he stood, trying to find the driest place possible. “Cussed country!” he muttered in disgust.

He thought he heard something and cocked his head like a mountain lion listening for the rustle of its prey. Yes, he heard it again. Satisfaction curled through him, even as he ran his hand over his face to brush off as much of the trickling water as he could. The Chinese party had begun. He moved deeper into the trees, picking up the reins of his horse and leading it away from town. He’d give it an hour, then he’d be back.

Hearing the first volley of fire crackers, Sky sat up. The rain still beat a tattoo on the roof, and an occasional flash of lightning lit the room with a blinding glare. He glanced over to see Brooke sitting up in the bed as well, staring at the window.

“It’s just a party. Sometimes they go all night. Hopefully you’ll be able to get some sleep.”

She did not turn toward him but kept staring at the window. “Why are they having a party? You mean the Chinese, right?”

He nodded, then realized she couldn’t see him. “Yes. They have them for all sorts of reasons. Any excuse to get together and have some fun. Someone’s birthday or anniversary. Or maybe someone found some gold in their mine today. Who knows?” He shrugged in the darkness. “Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”

Brooke gave a dry chuckle. “I can sleep through anything.”

“Yes. I seem to remember that now.” His tone was light and teasing as he remembered the first morning after their wedding.

He heard her get up softly and move to stand by the window. Lightning flashed, and he could see that she stared out the window with a faraway, frightened expression.

His heart beat erratically. He earnestly wanted to know more about this intriguing woman. He wanted to soothe away her haunting fears with a warm embrace, but to do so would only make matters worse. Instead he lay back down, face to the ceiling, and asked, “Would you tell me about your uncle? Jackson Baker, you said his name was?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Sky saw her stiffen and he wondered again how cruel this man had been to his niece. His fists clenched involuntarily behind his head at the mere thought of someone mistreating her. Was her uncle the man who had left those scars on her arms?

He turned now to look directly at her. Arms crossed, she rubbed her hands up and down the sleeves of her dress. She had not answered his question. He would never sleep as long as the fireworks were going on, so he got up, lit the lamp, and went over to where she stood. Turning his back to the wall, he slid to the floor, looking up at her and waiting. When she finally glanced down, he patted the floor by his side. She hesitated, then slid down beside him, hugging her knees to her chest.

He kept quiet, still fighting the urge to draw her into the comfort of his arms. She looked so vulnerable, so frightened and fragile. Could the mere mention of her uncle bring such terror?

Lifting her chin from her knees she leaned her head back against the wall and began to talk softly. Her fingers, resting in her lap, played with a small piece of wood she had picked up off the floor.

“When I was fifteen—” Her voice cracked. After a moment, she went on. “My mother, father, and sister, were killed in an accident. Their buggy came too close to the edge of a road with a steep drop-off during a torrential rain storm, and the buggy rolled down into the canyon. It was a Sunday. I had stayed home from church that day because I didn’t feel well.”

Pain for what she must have gone through washing over him, Sky closed his eyes.

“I was sent to live with my uncle. Jackson Baker, yes,” she said, answering his earlier question. She paused, as if trying to decide how to finish the story. “While I lived with him, I learned a lot of things about life.” She stopped, but Sky had heard the bitter edge in her voice. She went on, steering the conversation away from her uncle. “Darcy, the cook, taught me all she knew and I would often visit the barn when Uncle Jackson was away. From the stable man, Solomon, I learned a lot about treating sick animals.”

“That explains why Bess’s leg has healed so quickly.” He peered down at her in the dim light. “Why did you only visit the barn when your uncle was away?”

She shrugged and waved away the question with a sad expression full of painful memory. “I lived with him for three years, and then he sent me here.”

Sky knew she would say no more on the subject tonight. He felt thankful for the brief insight into her past.

They sat in companionable silence for a while before she spoke again, turning her face toward him, her head still resting against the wall. “You have never told me how you came to this area. You said you grew up in Oregon?”

Sky brought his knees up, resting his forearms on them as he spoke, leaning his head back against the wall. “Yes, I did. My parents own a ranch in the Willamette Valley. My father is a lawman, and I used to be the Deputy Sheriff in my hometown but—” he shrugged—“Jason moved here. He was born in Pierce City during the gold rush days, and something brought him back. I felt like he needed some family near him and I had nothing really keeping me at home so I moved out here and started the farm. I’ve been here five years now.”