“Did you sleep?” he asked. She nodded.
“Are you hungry?”
“No,” she responded softly.
“I don’t think I could eat anything yet.”
“You barely touched your breakfast.” It was a tender admonishment. Dru simply shook her head and turned toward a nearby chair. She hated to see that look in his gray eyes. It made her feel guilty for all she had put him through, all she had yet to put him through. It wasn’t right that she’d saddled him with her troubles.
“I wonder what the girls are doing this afternoon,” she said, her tone
light and cheerful. Gavin knew her well enough not to press the subject of food any longer. Instead, he moved away from the window, walking with that loose-limbed stride of his, and sat on the small divan across from her.
“Probably out riding with Stubs. They ought to have the cows rounded up by the time we get back.”
“I wish we didn’t have to leave the basin so soon.” Dru imagined the majestic peaks of the rugged Sawtooth Mountains and the log house that lay in their shadows. A strong longing returned to her breast. She didn’t need a doctor to know she wouldn’t see another spring there. Gavin leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees.
“Dru, I want you to see the doctor before we leave Boise.” She offered a faint smile.
“Don’t, Gavin. We both know it won’t make any difference.” Before he could say anything more, they were interrupted by a knock. Dru’s eyes snapped toward the door. Her pulse quickened.
“They’re early,” she whispered, then silently added, Dear God, please bring the right woman.
Chapter Two
Standing beside the buggy, Rachel ran the palms of her hands over her blue-and-white striped skirt. She looked across the street at the Overland Hotel, nervously imagining an interview with Mrs. Blake. The woman would no doubt send her away after just a few questions. It was probably a foolish thing to have done, coming into town in response to that advertisement. It was tempting to climb back into the buggy and turn the horse toward home but she didn’t allow herself to succumb to the temptation. She’d come to apply for the job of governess, and apply she would. Maggie would most surely proclaim Rachel mad for wanting to go off to tend somebody else’s children. If she wanted to do that, Maggie would say, she could stay at home and watch after Maggie’s five rapscallions. Which probably would make better sense than this. But Rachel wanted to do this. And the more she’d thought about it, the more she wanted it. She would be doing this on her own. She would be charting her own destiny. She wouldn’t be wasting her time any longer going to boring cotillions or listening to gossip or shopping for new clothes. She would be accomplishing something worthwhile. And she would be independent. As much as she loved Tucker and Maggie, she longed for her independence. Maggie, of all people, should understand that. Quickly, Rachel wrapped the reins around the hitching rail, absently patted the gelding’s neck, then, with head held high, walked across the street and into the hotel lobby. The clerk behind the desk raised his head as she approached.
“Good day, Miss Harris,” he said, quickly smiling.
“I haven’t seen you in town for a while. Is the Judge with you today? Will you be dining with us?” He looked at her with openly appreciative eyes, then craned his neck to see if Judge Branigan was somewhere in sight.
“No, Mr. Samuels. I’m afraid Tucker isn’t with me.” She returned his look with a half-hearted smile of her own. Mark Samuels had been pestering for permission to call upon her since she was barely out of short skirts. She thought him a terrible busybody and had no intention of encouraging him to snoop into her affairs. Her voice was unusually crisp.
“I’ve come to see Mrs. Blake. Can you tell me what room she’s in, please?” His hopeful expression faded.
“Mrs. Blake?” He glanced down at the registry before him.
“Oh, yes. Mrs. Blake.” His head came up again.
“She’s in room two-ten, but I’m afraid now isn’t a good time to come visiting. She’s busy interviewing for a woman to care for her children. There’s already been three ladies come and gone.”
“Three? But it’s not even two thirty.” What if she’d already hired someone? Rachel hadn’t even had a chance. She at least wanted a chance.
“First one come more’n a half hour ago. Mrs. Blake’s a good friend of yours, I take it?” Rachel was scarcely aware of what Mark Samuels was saying.
“Did you say room two-ten?”
“Yes, but…”
“Thank you, Mr. Samuels.” Squaring her shoulders, she headed for the stairs. Gavin left his chair near the window to answer the knock on the door. He swore this would be the last one. For whatever reasons, Dru had found the first three women unacceptable and had dismissed them after very brief exchanges. He couldn’t get her to say why, other than, “They just weren’t right.” He pulled open the door, expecting to find another woman in her late thirties or early forties with a dour face and reading glasses perched on her nose. That was a rather fair description of the first three applicants, but it was a far cry from the beautiful young woman standing in the hallway. From beneath a bonnet made of plush blue felt and trimmed with a white ostrich feather, a fringe of pale blond hair kissed her forehead and curled in faint wisps around her temples and ears. Her blue eyes, wide and frankly curious as they stared up at him, were the color of a robin’s egg, the same shade as a clear sky on a warm summer day. Her nose was pert and slightly flared. Her mouth was bow-shaped and a delightful shade of pink. He felt a bolt of awareness shoot through him. For a moment, all else was forgotten except the sheer pleasure of looking at her.
“I’m here to see Mrs. Blake?” she said, her voice uncertain as she met his gaze.
“About the position of governess?” It was a little like being doused with a bucket of mountain stream water. Her words brought him back to reality.
“I’m Mr. Blake.” He waved her into the room. As she moved past him, he caught the faint scent of her cologne. It reminded him of a field of wild honeysuckle. Dru lifted a hand and motioned to the chair across from her.
“Come in, Miss…?”
“Harris,” the young woman supplied as she crossed the sitting room.
“Rachel Harris.”
“Please sit down, Miss Harris. I’m Drucilla Blake.” Gavin watched as Rachel settled onto the edge of the chair. Her back was ramrod stiff, her gloved hands clasped in the folds of her blue-and-white skirt. Her
outfit was simple but obviously well-made and costly. This was no penniless spinster in search of much-needed employment. He wondered why she was applying for the position. He closed the door and returned silently to his place by the window.
“I won’t beat around the bush, Miss Harris,” Dru began.
“Gavin—my husband—and I have a small ranch near Challis up along the Salmon River, where we spend most of the year. For the past two summers, we’ve trailed our cows into a remote area known as the Stanley Basin. That’s where you’d be for a few more weeks, then up the Salmon. It’s beautiful country, but you won’t find a lot of fancy parties and such, like you have here in the capital. We live a quiet, simple life, and sometimes it’s a hard one.” When Dru paused, Rachel nodded her head but didn’t speak.
“I’ve got two girls, Miss Harris. Sabrina, she’s nine. Petula’s five. They’re bright and in need of schooling. Have you ever done any teaching?”
“No.” Her chin lifted minutely.
“But I’ve been all the way through school in Boise City, and I went to finishing school back east. And I love children. I know I could teach. I live with my sister, and she has five children of her own. I was a kind of second mother to them.” Dru leaned slightly forward. Her hazel eyes narrowed.