“I know, boy,” Gavin said as he stroked the wolfhound’s head.
“They’ve been gone a long time. It’s almost dark.” The house was too quiet when the children were gone, he thought. And it was empty without Rachel. He squelched that thought quickly. It was the children he missed. He rose from the chair and paced across the room to the window, much as the dog had done only moments before. He rubbed a small circle on the frosty glass and peered out. He’d done a lot of thinking that day and had made some unpleasant discoveries about himself. He’d married Dru to provide her children with a home and a father once she was gone. But look at him. First he’d withdrawn from everyone, including Sabrina and Petula, so overwhelmed with guilt that he’d given no thought to anyone else. And then, when he’d realized what Dru had been trying to tell him, he’d again thought only of himself, about how wonderful it was to be rid of the guilt. Finally, when he’d been rejected by Rachel, he’d taken his anger and hurt out on the children. It was time for it all to stop. He’d known all along that Rachel Harris wasn’t cut out for the hard life of the Blakes. They weren’t rich and probably never would be. This would go on being a working ranch, with all family members needing to pitch in and help. There would be too few new gowns, too many long winters. Joker whined again, jumping up on his hind legs and resting his paws on the window sill. Gavin laid his hand on the dog’s head. He should have known the minute they met Patrick in Challis that Rachel would set her cap for him. The Irishman was as rich as King Midas. His father had made a fortune in the gold fields of Idaho, and Patrick O’Donnell had repeated the feat in Bonanza City. Now he’d settled into that castle like some kind of medieval lord, waiting to rule his kingdom. Damn! That wasn’t fair and he knew it. Patrick was a generous, good-hearted man. That he was rich and able to offer a wife a life of ease shouldn’t be held against him. But he could hold it against Rachel, for it was clear it was for money she was marrying him. It had to be or she wouldn’t come so willingly into Gavin’s arms. He cursed aloud and turned abruptly from the window, his angry voice sending Joker scurrying back to the rug by the fireplace. The worst of it was that he still wanted her. He burned with the want of her. And it infuriated him. He’d always kept a firm control over his life. Hunger, fatigue, passion. They could all be overcome with a strong will and mind.
“Hell!” He grabbed his coat from the peg by the door and shoved his arms down the sleeves. He’d started out knowing he needed to be a better father to Sabrina and Petula and here he was thinking about Rachel again. If he had two licks of sense, he’d take her to Challis and put her on the next stage to Boise. If it weren’t for Dru wanting her to stay for the sake of the girls, he would have done it, too. Damn it, he would have!
“Oh look, Miss Harris!” Petula cried from the back of the sleigh, her voice filled with excitement.
“Look at the deer!” As Rachel began to twist around, she caught a glimpse of Petula jumping up on the seat, her arm pointing off behind them. Just then, the sleigh jerked abruptly to the side, then back again. With a scream, the child bounced over the back of the sleigh.
“Patrick, stop!” He pulled back on the reins, but it seemed an eternity before the horse was brought to a full halt. Rachel shoved the lap robe to the floor of the sleigh and jumped to the ground. She stumbled in the snow, falling to her knees.
“Pet!” she cried. She scrambled to her feet and raced back along the sleigh tracks toward the whimpering child.
“My arm.
Oh, my arm.” Before Rachel could reach for the child and lift her up from the snow, Patrick’s hand on her shoulder stopped her.
“Don’t move her yet. Let me have a look.” Sabrina arrived, her face ashen. She grabbed Rachel’s hand.
“Is she gonna be all right?” she whispered.
“She’s not gonna die, is she?”
“Oh, heavens no,” Rachel replied, giving her hand a squeeze. She dropped to her knees and hugged Sabrina.
“It’s all right, Brina. Pet’s going to be fine, you’ll see.” She understood the child’s fear. Her father was dead, and now her mother too. It wasn’t surprising that she might think an accident would take Petula from her as well. Patrick’s voice was concerned as he turned toward Rachel.
“It looks as if her arm is broken. It doesn’t look right to me.” He was frowning.
“We’re almost to the ranch. I’ll take you there, then head for town to get the doctor.” Petula’s crying increased as Patrick lifted her gingerly from the ground and carried her toward the sleigh, Rachel and Sabrina close on his heels. As soon as Rachel was seated, he passed the child into her waiting arms, then hurried around to the opposite side and got in. Moments later, they were hurtling across the frosty countryside again.
“It hurts, Miss Harris,” Petula said amidst sobs.
“I know, kitten. But it won’t for long. We’re almost home, and then we’ll get you taken care of. Hang on, sweetheart.” Despite her assurances to the child, it seemed to take forever before they dashed into the yard and stopped in front of the house. Gavin stepped through the doorway at that very moment. Perhaps it was something on their faces or the hectic way they’d arrived, but he seemed to know that something was amiss even before his gaze fell on the whimpering little girl in Rachel’s arms.
“What happened?” he demanded as he came forward.
“She fell. We think her arm is broken.”
“Pa, it hurts,” Petula cried, giant tears streaming down her cheeks. Gavin lifted her into his own embrace.
“I’ll be careful,” he promised her. Rachel jumped out right behind him, hurrying to open the door.
“I’ll be back with the doctor as quick as I can,” Patrick shouted after her. Rachel heard him, but it didn’t mean much to her at the time. She wanted only to take care of Petula. She followed Gavin into the children’s bedroom and watched as he laid Petula on the bed. He frowned as he straightened.
“We’re going to have to take your coat off, Pet. It’s going to hurt, but there’s no way around it.”
“No. It hurts too much already. No. Don’t take it off.” Gavin’s gaze met Rachel’s. She felt the same helplessness she could see in his eyes. She knew he was right, but she hated the thought of causing the child more pain. She went around to the opposite side of the bed and sat down.
“You’re going to have to help us, Pet. We must get your coat off before the doctor comes.”
“Let me wait. No, let me wait.” Rachel felt like crying too. This was her fault. If she hadn’t let the children go with her to Killarney Hall to have dinner with the O’Donnells, this wouldn’t have happened.
“Get a hold of yourself, Miss Harris,” Gavin said sternly, his voice low. She drew a quick breath, startled by his sharpness. But he was right. She couldn’t fall apart now. She had to be strong for Petula. She swallowed the lump in her throat.
“We can’t wait, Pet,” Gavin told the little girl.
“It has to be done now.” Rachel clenched her jaw and leaned forward to help him.
“Children mend mighty quick from a thing like this, Mr. Blake.” Dr. Forester said as he led the way out of the bedroom.
“She’s going to be in some pain, but I think her arm will heal up fine, long as you can keep her from doing too much until it’s good and mended. You’ll have to keep her quiet until then.”
“For how long?”
“Oh, ‘bout five, six weeks, I’d say. It was a good, clean break. Should heal up quick.”