“Look at you, lass. Sure if your happiness hasn’t made you prettier than ever.”
“It’s good to see you, Patrick. We’ve missed you.” Patrick released her and turned to help Pearl from the buggy. The two women hugged each other as Patrick stepped toward Gavin. Gavin hid his irritation and shook Patrick’s offered hand.
“Pearl’s been after Shane or me to bring her callin’ for weeks now. I decided we’d given you enough time alone, and here we are.” He grinned and slapped Gavin lightly on the back.
“Come inside, Patrick,” Rachel called.
“I’ll fix you something to eat. There’s fresh bread in the oven about ready to come out.” Patrick patted his stomach and grinned.
“That’s temptin’, lass. Do I look like a man who could refuse such an offer?”
“There’s never a moment the O’Donnell men aren’t hungry,” Pearl said as she and Rachel led the way into the house. Patrick started after them, then turned and looked back at Gavin.
“Are you comin’, mate?”
“No. I’ve got work to do.” He spun on his heel and strode back to the barn, ignoring Patrick’s questioning gaze.
He stripped off his shirt. Damn! Why did they have to come today? Why did he have to come at all? He lifted the horseshoe from the water bucket, then picked up Checker’s leg and held the iron against the large hoof. It was a good fit. He should be pleased. But his mind wasn’t on shoeing the old work horse. It was on Patrick and Rachel, together in the house. Rachel couldn’t understand why Gavin still hadn’t returned from the barn. It shouldn’t have taken him that long to finish with the shoeing. Checker had been the last horse he had to do. He’d told her so himself. So why was he ignoring Patrick and Pearl? Because of the weather and the distances to be traveled, they’d had few enough guests come calling since the wedding, and Rachel thought Gavin should be as tickled as she was to see their friends.
“Sure but I think I’d better stretch my legs after such a meal,” Patrick said as he rose from the table.
“Maybe I can give Gavin a hand.” A tiny frown furrowed Rachel’s brow. She hoped Patrick would be able to figure out why Gavin was acting so strangely. Pearl helped clear away the dishes, oblivious to Rachel’s quandary.
“That was a wonderful lunch, Rachel. It’s been so long since I’ve cooked a meal, I’d probably poison the whole family if I tried. The cook won’t let me poke my nose inside the kitchen. She thinks I’m too young to have a single notion of what must be done to care for the O’Donnell men.”
“I bet you’d do just fine, given the chance,” Rachel replied.
“I didn’t know much when I first went up to the basin. I used to help with the cooking now and then when I was little, but Dru was the one who really taught me how to get around in the kitchen.” Pearl stopped and turned to look at Rachel.
“Dru was a special person. Is it hard? Fillin’ her shoes?” She blushed.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s all right.” Rachel laid a hand over Pearl’s.
“We all miss her. Gavin, the children, me. All of us . But Gavin and I… well, we have something different, something uniquely ours.”
“You’re real happy, aren’t you?”
“Very.” Pearl returned to her chair beside the table and sat down.
“I was sorry you didn’t marry Patrick. I wanted you for my sister. That place needs more women in it. But I can see it wouldn’t have been right. You belong here with Gavin.”
“Patrick will find the right woman someday. You’ll see.”
“I sure hope you’re right,” Pearl replied with a little shake of her head.
“I’m surprised you’re not getting’ fat, Gavin, with a wife who can cook like that.” Gavin threw another forkful of hay into Patch’s stall, replying with a noncommittal grunt.
“Thought I’d come out and offer you a hand.
Give Rachel and Pearl time alone for some woman-talk. A man’s not welcome when two females put their heads together. So what can I do out here for you, Gavin, until I’m welcome inside again?” Gavin glanced toward Patrick. The Irishman was leaning his shoulder against the barn door, his stance jaunty, his face bright with a grin. His shirt was white and starched, his black trousers smoothly creased, his red hair slicked back in place. At the moment, Gavin couldn’t think of any way Patrick could help him without getting his fancy duds mussed. It shouldn’t bother him so much. Patrick had always been wealthy, yet they’d become friends. He’d never been envious or jealous before. But it was different now. Patrick had been engaged to Rachel. Patrick had kissed Rachel and held her in his arms. Patrick could give Rachel things that Gavin never could. His fingers tightened around the handle of the pitchfork, and he jabbed it into the stack of hay. Patrick wandered in, blithely ignoring Gavin’s sour mood.
“Faith and begorra! Would you look at this fine lass.” He turned to see Patrick leaning over a stall gate. Unable to help himself, he set the pitchfork aside and walked over to join Patrick. The palomino mare stood in the center of her stall, gently bathing the newborn filly with her tongue.
“Just arrived yesterday,” he told Patrick.
“Dru would’ve been pleased. She always did want a colt out of this mare. This little gal is Sunshine’s first foal. The spittin’ image of her dam.”
“That she is.” He glanced sideways at Patrick.
“My wife’s birthday’s coming up. I thought Rachel might like to have the filly.” Patrick didn’t look his way. ““Tis a fine gift from a husband. Fine gift.” Sure. A fine gift. But not what Patrick could have given her.
“Gavin, what’s wrong with you?” Rachel demanded as she closed the bedroom door.
“I’ve never seen you so churlish.”
“Maybe I just don’t like people coming and staying for so long when there’s work to be done.” Gavin removed his shirt and tossed it across a chair.
“It’s only a few more weeks before we’ll be driving the cattle up to the basin. We don’t have time for lounging like some folk. If I could afford a houseful of servants and a dozen cowboys, I could spend my day visiting too.” She listened to him in stunned silence, still not understanding why he was angry. Finally, she stepped away from the door.
“But it’s nice to have friends come calling.” He paused in his undressing and leveled a dark look at her across the bed.
“Tired of my company, Mrs. Blake?” he asked. Then he turned, sat on the bed, and pulled off his dusty trousers. She was shocked first, then her own temper flared.
“It wouldn’t take long for anyone to be tired of your company when you’re in such a sour mood. Did you notice Brina’s and Pet’s faces at supper? They thought they’d done something wrong.” He sighed but remained silent. Rachel skirted the bed and came to stand beside him, her anger forgotten. She placed her hand on his bare shoulder.
“Is this something I just have to expect in the spring? Are you always like this?” She leaned over and nuzzled the back of his neck.
“If so, I’ll have to find some way to sweeten you up.” Gavin shook his head as he stared at the floor, unaffected for once by her caress.
“There’s always so much damn work.”
“It gets done.”
“No matter how many good years we have, it’ll never be enough so you don’t have to work so hard.” It was Rachel’s turn to sigh.
“Haven’t we talked about this before, Gavin? I don’t mind the work.”
“You should mind.” He twisted his head, his gaze meeting hers.
“I got to thinking, having Patrick here. If you’d married him instead of me, you’d be the one going visiting while somebody else did the work. Someday you might wish you had married him.”
“Is that what this is about?” She threw up her hands in exasperation.
“I married the man I wanted to marry. Can’t you accept that?” She wished she could tell him she wasn’t like his mother, that she had married him “until death do you part.” But she wasn’t supposed to know about Christina Blake, and so she kept silent.