“It was so beautiful today. I never dreamed it could snow.
“Weather’s sudden in these parts.” He shucked off his heavy coat and hung it on the peg near the door.
“Where’s Dru?”
“She was tired and went to bed.”
their eyes met briefly.
“I’ll check in on her,” Gavin said, walking swiftly toward his bedroom. Rachel’s heart continued to race as she crossed the room and moved aside the curtain to peer outside. Tiny snowflakes, blown before an icy wind, had already covered the ground with a light frosting. She couldn’t see the barn or the corral through the blowing snow. She felt isolated from the world, as if all that existed were within these walls. She heard the bedroom door close behind her. Her heart was doing those funny flip-flops in her chest again.
“How’s Mrs. Blake?” she asked without turning around.
“Asleep.” The lid of the wood box creaked as it was opened. She heard the crackle of fire and pitch as new logs were added to the flames. A chair scraped against the floor as it was dragged closer to the hearth. Rachel turned around. He was seated on the edge of the spindle-backed chair, leaning forward, his forearms braced on his thighs. He was staring into the fire, the light dancing across his face, eerie shadows darkening his craggy features. What would it be like to have the right to love this man? She moved away from the window, feeling suddenly chilled so far from the fire.
“It doesn’t snow this early in Boise,” she said softly, a slight quiver in her voice.
“It won’t last long. A few days, week maybe.” He glanced up at her as she settled onto the rocker opposite him.
“A week?” She’d planned to leave. She’d planned to tell them in the morning that she was going home. Gavin raked his fingers through his hair, then nodded.
“Could be longer, but I imagine we’ll be up to the Lucky Strike before the end of October.” He rubbed his hands together as a frown settled across his brow.
“Never should’ve let Dru talk me into staying. No way to get a doctor to her if she’d need one.”
“Gavin…” She leaned forward and lightly touched her fingertips to the back of his hand.
“What’s wrong with Dru?” She was taken aback by the pain she read in his eyes as he looked at her. Despite the strange sensations swirling through her as a result of their touch, she didn’t pull away. Instead, she closed her hand over his.
“Please tell me,” she whispered.
“She’s got a cancer. The doctors we’ve seen … none of ‘em think she’ll live ‘til spring.” If Dru dies, he’ll be free. Rachel pulled her hand away from him as if she’d been burned. She was horrified that such a thought had ever entered her mind. How could she be so selfish when a woman was dying?
“Don’t worry, Miss Harris,” Gavin said sharply.
“It’s not contagious.” He was glaring at her with scorn-filled eyes.
“I never ….. I’m sorry. I was just shocked. I never dreamed she… I… I’m so sorry.” His expression softened a little.
“It’s all right. I guess I thought you knew how sick she was.” There was so much she didn’t know. Most of all she didn’t know what to do with her feelings for him. Even now, she had to fight the urge to throw her arms around him, to kiss his forehead and hold his head against her breast, to comfort him from the pain he was feeling, to love him tonight and forever.
“I have to go,” she said softly.
“Good night.” he responded, looking once more into the fire. That’s not what I meant, Gavin. I meant I have to go. I have to leave this place.
“Good night, Gavin.” She rose and hurried to the safety of her room. Gavin heard the closing of the bedroom door even as he closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers in tiny circles over his temples. Why did he react to Rachel that way? Always expecting the worst from her. But then, with the exception of Dru, Gavin always expected the worst from women. Always had. Well, maybe not always. Just since he was ten. It started to snow early in the morning, and it was soon clear there was a real blizzard in the making. The teacher sent her students home before the storm could get any worse. Gavin was surprised to see the fancy black buggy hitched up in front of the house. Mr. Hannah knew his pa was in Cincinnati and wouldn’t be back until the end of the week. Besides, they always did business at Mr. Hannah’s fancy house in the middle of town. When he went in the house, the parlor was empty. Then he heard strange noises coming from the bedroom. It sounded like his ma was trying to scream but couldn’t. Alarmed, he made his way to the back of the house and pushed open the door. There they were, Mr. Hannah and his ma, in bed together, both naked as jaybirds. When she saw him, his ma cursed at him and ordered him out. He stood and watched, confused and scared, when Christina Blake and Mr. Hannah came out of the bedroom minutes later. His ma was holding a worn carpet bag in her hand. She glared at him for a moment, then walked on by. Gavin jumped up from his chair and strode toward the window. He swept the curtains aside. Already there was close to an inch of snow on the ground with no signs of its stopping. It had been a lot like that the day his mother left to live with Mr. Hannah. His pa’d said Christina Blake always did hate living on the farm. She’d always wanted to be rich, and when Mr. Hannah had come along, there’d been little she wouldn’t have done to become his wife. Gavin’s father hadn’t even tried to stop the divorce, but he’d never gotten over it either. He’d turned to drink and wallowed in self-pity until the day he died. Come to think of it, it had snowed that day too His pa was buried. The farm was lost. There wasn’t anything for Gavin to do but move on. He had no family… except for his ma. And he hadn’t talked to her in four years, not since the day she walked out of the house. With old newspaper, he wrapped up the photo of his ma and pa and him that had always hung on the wall of his parents’ bedroom. With a canvas bag containing all his worldly goods, he set off for the Hannah mansion in the midst of town. He wouldn’t ever forget what she looked like that day. She was wearing a shiny blue-and-white striped gown.
Jewels sparkled at her throat and on her ears. Her pale blond hair was swept up from her neck. She looked absolutely regal. The most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her cool blue eyes had perused him as they stood in the entry hall.
“You look like your father. He was a handsome man too.” Gavin handed her the photo wrapped in newspaper. She lifted an imperious brow, then opened the package. She stared at the picture for a moment.
“Too bad he wasn’t as rich as he was handsome,” she said. With an outstretched arm, she held the photo up, then dropped it unceremoniously into a wastebasket. His mother’s gesture had been burned forever into his memory. Even now, nearly twenty years later, it brought the same bitterness to his chest. He’d never forgotten, would never forgive. Rachel resembled Christina Blake a little.
Both of them beautifully blonde and blue-eyed. Both of them classically lovely. There. He’d acknowledged it. Stubs had started to point it out that first day they arrived, but Gavin hadn’t let him say it. He didn’t want to admit he was predisposed to dislike her. She was beautiful and privileged and should have been spoiled and self-centered—just like Christina Blake. Only she kept surprising him, doing and saying things he never would have expected from her. He turned from the window, his eyes moving toward Rachel’s bedroom. A thin spray of light fanned out beneath the door. She was still awake. He remembered the concern in her eyes as they’d sat beside the fire, recalled too sharply the rising desire that had flooded through him. Lord, how he’d wanted her. He’d wanted to kiss that moist, rose-colored mouth. He’d wanted to remove the pins from her hair and see it tumbling around her shoulders as it had up on the ridge. He’d wanted… Gavin made a sound of disgust as he returned to his chair by the fire. Who was he kidding? It wasn’t Rachel who was like his mother. It was him. He was married to Dru and lusting after Rachel. He’d known when he married Dru that they wouldn’t be sharing the intimacies of marriage. They couldn’t risk a pregnancy. It would kill her for sure… and the child too. Besides, Dru was still in love with Charlie. He had agreed with the conditions of this marriage, had even welcomed them. But how could he have known he would meet a woman who would create such a wanting in him? God help me, he thought as he rested his head in his hands. God help me.