“Why would someone as pretty as you want to go off to the mountains? Are you hiding from something, Miss Harris?” Gavin’s gaze fastened on the petite blonde. He’d been wondering the same thing himself and was curious to hear her reply.
“No, Mrs. Blake, I’m not.” Her voice was strong and firm.
“But I am twenty-two years old and still living with my sister and her family. It’s time that I made my own way. This seemed like something I could do. Something I would enjoy doing.”
“The wages wouldn’t be much. Only a few dollars a month. We’re just getting by as it is. You’d have your own small cabin at the main ranch, and you could take your meals with us. If we hire you, we’d want your pledge that you would stay through spring. At least until the cattle return to the summer range in June. Could you do that?” Again Rachel nodded. Dru’s eyes took on a faraway look. Gavin recognized it. He’d seen her drift off like this before. It was when she was thinking about her girls and leaving them and what would happen to them when she was gone. He’d seen it that first night she’d come to him and told him she was dying. Dru’s voice was soft, almost inaudible.
“Miss Harris, you must know one thing more. I’m not a well woman. I need someone who won’t mind caring for me as well as the children.” Rachel’s eyes widened. As if searching for a proper reply, she turned her head toward the window and looked directly into Gavin’s eyes. Their gazes held for the breadth of a heartbeat, then she turned away once more.
“I’m not afraid, if that’s what you’re asking, Mrs. Blake. I’ve helped nurse my nieces and nephews through the usual childhood illnesses. I’m sure I could learn to do whatever is needed.” She was saying all the right things, Gavin thought. Too right. A man only had to look at her to know she’d been spoiled and pampered, used to having her own way, her every whim satisfied. He knew the truth about her type. She would promise what they wanted to hear now, but do what she wanted when the time came. Heaven only knew why she wanted to leave Boise and live on a ranch miles from nowhere. There had to be some reason she wanted to get away from Boise, perhaps even to hide, and he’d wager it had to do with a man. It always did when a beautiful woman was involved. The tension left Dru’s face as she smiled at Rachel.
“Tell me about you and your family, Miss Harris.” With a sinking feeling, Gavin knew Dru had made up her mind about Rachel Harris. Gavin Blake escorted Rachel to her buggy across from the Overland Hotel. As she lifted the hem of her skirts to climb into the buggy, his fingers cupped her elbow and helped her up.
“We’ll want to get an early start, Miss Harris.” he said.
“Can you be here by eight?” She turned to look at him as she picked up the reins. Steel-gray eyes were studying her in a disconcerting fashion. She got the distinct feeling he wasn’t happy about his wife’s decision to hire her. She wondered why he hadn’t stopped Drucilla if that was how he felt.
“I’ll be here,” she replied firmly. With another piercing look, Gavin stepped away from the buggy. Rachel slapped the reins against the gelding’s rump, and the horse jumped forward, settling quickly into a comfortable trot as they traversed Main Street. What have I done? It had been a strange interview. Not at all what she had expected. After the few preliminary questions, Drucilla Blake had simply encouraged Rachel to talk about herself, about Maggie and the children, about her experiences back East and what had drawn her again to Idaho. She’d thought perhaps the woman was just being friendly and had no intention of hiring her as a governess. She’d been stunned when Dru brought the interview to an abrupt halt, saying she was tired and wanted to rest and could Rachel be at the Ovedand in the morning with whatever things she wanted to bring with her. How was she going to explain this to Maggie? She didn’t even know this woman or her husband. Her husband … Gavin. He had a handsome face with bold, craggy features. A comfortable, lived-in soot of face. Tiny lines around his steely gray eyes. Deep furrows in his sun-bronzed forehead. Dark shadows of a beard just beneath the skin of his cheeks and jaw. Blue black hair, the color of raven’s wings. Tall and broad of shoulder and radiating good health and vitality. What had ever made him marry a woman like Drucilla Blake? She was plain and skinny and… Rachel’s eyes widened, appalled by her own callousness. She was beginning to think like Margaret and Susannah and the others. Drucilla Blake couldn’t help it
that she was sick, and there was much more to loving a person than their looks. In fact, Rachel thought she was going to like Dru very much. She’d better. She was going to be living with her and her husband and their children for almost a year. Before she could wonder again if she was doing the right thing, before she could even consider changing her mind, she had to get home and tell Maggie what she’d done. She clicked her tongue in her cheek and slapped the reins against the gelding’s back. In quick response, the horse broke into a brisk canter.
“I’m afraid your wife is right, Mr. Blake.” The doctor closed the door to the bedroom.
“We can try to minimize the pain with laudanum and morphine, but there’s little else we can do for her.”
“But she’s seemed better for so long. Except for her lack of appetite, I thought.. “A cancer will often go into a period of remission. The tumor, for some reason we don’t understand, will simply stop growing. A patient often thinks it has gone entirely away.”
Gavin rubbed his eyes with the fingers of one hand.
“Maybe it will last a few more years?
When the girls are older …” His words stopped as he met the physician’s grim gaze.
“It could,” the doctor said with a sad shake of his head, “but I wouldn’t pin my hopes on it.”
He picked up his hat from a nearby chair, then turned the knob and opened the door.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Blake.”
The snap of the closing door echoed in Gavin’s head. It had a final, deadly sound to it.
He couldn’t argue with the facts any longer. Dru wasn’t going to get better. No matter what he did for her, she was going to die. She’d known it for a long time and had accepted it, but he’d continued to hold out some hope.
Sinking into the chair by the door, he thought of Sabrina and Petula. What kind of father would he be to them without Dru’s wisdom and guidance? He didn’t know the first thing about it. His own father had been lost in a drunken stupor since Gavin was ten, perhaps even before. As for his mother… Well, he’d quit thinking of her long ago. Whenever he did, he was left with a sour taste in his mouth. Gavin had been on his own since he was fourteen, and he’d liked it that way. He’d never thought he wanted anything different. It had been his friend, Charlie Porter, and Dru, Sabrina, and little Pet who’d shown him what love and home and a family could mean. He’d almost begun to believe in those things. But now it was all gone—or just about. Charlie had died over two years ago, gored by an angry bull, just after Dru lost the baby—the son they’d all been waiting for. And now she was dying and leaving Gavin to raise her daughters. She didn’t know how incapable he was. She didn’t realize that he would most surely fail.
“Gavin?” He looked up to find Dru standing in the doorway to the bedroom. Loose strands of hair streamed limply over her shoulders, and the billowy white nightgown engulfed her bony frame. He supposed she’d never been much to look at, but she’d always been warm and kind and giving, and that had more than made up for whatever beauty Mother Nature hadn’t seen fit to bestow on her.
“I want to stay in the basin as long as we can this year. Let Stubs and Jess take the cows to the Lucky Strike. A few more weeks won’t matter much.”