Jake sat in the shade of the bunkhouse mending a piece of harness. Fuzzy had tossed it at him as soon as he’d woken up. “Make yerself useful,” he said, knowing full well the hours Jake had spent on guard duty and just wanting to give him a hard time. That was Fuzzy’s way, and Jake wouldn’t have expected anything less.
Mending the harness was actually a nice break after mending fences—leather was much more pliable than wood and wire. He was sure Butternut appreciated the break from the hot sun as much as he did, too.
He glanced up at the sound of hooves and saw Willie Meeks riding toward him. He stood up to meet the boy, taking hold of the horse’s bridle when it seemed that Willie wasn’t pulling the reins quite tight enough for a good stop.
“I’ve come on official business, sir,” Willie said, sounding out of breath.
“Oh?” Jake asked, amused.
“I’ve been sent by the ladies from the tea shop. They’d like to speak with you.”
Jake was both pleased and irritated to hear this. The two emotions warred inside him like cats in a barrel. “Is it an emergency?”
“They didn’t say, but if it was, they probably would have said, wouldn’t they?”
“Probably so. Thank you, Willie. I’ll head into town when my work’s done for the day.”
“I’ll be sure’n tell them!” Willie spun his horse around and took off in the direction he’d come from, and Jake shook his head. That boy was going to get thrown clean off his horse if he didn’t learn to handle it better.
So. He was being summoned to the tea shop. He sat back down and picked up the harness, but he wasn’t able to concentrate on it. What could Regina possibly want? It didn’t seem likely that she’d send a messenger unless it was important, but she’d made several acquaintances in town now, and she’d have enough help if something had come up. It wasn’t like he was the only person in the world who could save her from herself.
No, he wasn’t going to dash off to her rescue. He’d done that once before, thank you very much, and while he’d likely saved her life—and Ariadne’s—he didn’t see the need to go running off again.
“Jake?”
He looked up again to see Royce Clark walking toward him, holding a telegram. “Yes, sir?”
“I know you’ve gone into town a lot lately, but truth is, I trust you, and I need you to handle something for me in my absence. If you could leave right now, I’d be grateful.”
Jake came to his feet. He’d just decided he wouldn’t take off for town like his saddle was on fire, but now his boss was asking it of him. Just what sorts of games was heaven playing with him right now? Was Susie sitting somewhere, laughing her head off? “All right, sir. What do you need?”
“While we were in town before, I sent a telegram to a friend of mine after I finished speaking with the blacksmith. I got to thinking about disgruntled former employees and the things they do to get back at their bosses, and one of those things is to come back around and clip wires on the fences. Not enough to cause any serious harm, but enough to create extra work and worry. I’ve heard plenty of stories along those lines over the years.”
Jake nodded. He could see where this was going. “And you think maybe Hoss . . .”
“I do.”
Hoss had worked for the Circle K barely a month before Mr. Clark had to let him go for laziness and for smart-mouthing Mrs. Clark. No one smart-mouthed Mrs. Clark—it wasn’t done, and all the men knew it.
“I sent Hoss over to my friend’s ranch when he left here, thinking that might be a better fit for him. I got it into my head to check, and sure enough, Hoss has missed a day of work here and there—plum disappeared, then reappeared the next day like nothing happened. I don’t want to accuse the man without any evidence, but that would be plenty of time for him to ride here and back.”
“What would you like me to do, sir?”
“Take this telegram to KC Murray and explain the situation. I’d go myself, but I’ve got something to deal with here. KC will know the best way to go about it.”
“All right. I’ll go now.”
“Thank you, Jake. I know it’s a little late in the day, so if you need to stay over, that’s fine, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jake shook his head as he saddled Butternut. Not only was he being sent to town, but he could stay overnight. That would give him plenty of time to visit the tea shop and see what in the blue blazes those women wanted now. Well, that one woman—he shouldn’t hold Regina’s infuriating ways against Ariadne.
After Butternut was saddled, he was on his way, heading back to Creede. If he couldn’t ride this road in his sleep before, he certainly could now.
***
Regina had been trying for the last fifteen minutes to light a fire in the stove. It seemed like a simple task, but for some reason, she couldn’t manage to do more than create a small flame that would then fizzle out. She looked up as the door to the shop opened, hoping it was someone who could help her.
It was Jake Honeycutt.
“Hello, Mr. Honeycutt,” she said, determined to sound friendly. After all, she was trying to make amends.
“Hello.” He stepped inside and closed the door. “Are you having some trouble with your stove?”
“It’s not so much the stove’s fault as it is mine.” She stepped to the side and let him take a look. Of course, within a few minutes, there was a nice roaring fire going. He closed the stove door and adjusted the vent so the room would be kept warm, but not become hot.
“Willie told me you’d be coming by after work—this seems early,” she said.
“Mr. Clark had an errand for me to run in town. I’ve just come from there.”
“Won’t you have a seat?” Beatrice had found two chairs in her attic that weren’t being used for anything, and the sisters had accepted the loan gladly. Their furniture wouldn’t arrive for a couple more days yet.
He sat in one of the chairs, and she took the other. Ariadne was upstairs hanging up their dresses on the nails they’d driven into the walls, and Regina assumed that she and Jake would likely be alone for this humbling and embarrassing conversation. She supposed that was all right—it was bad enough to swallow her pride in front of one person, let alone too.
“I understand you’re skilled with wood,” she said, not knowing a graceful way to lead into what she wanted to say. “Forgive me and please work for me” didn’t seem quite right.
He shrugged. “It’s something I enjoy doing.”
“Toria Jackson recommended you—she said you could put in some shelves and build us a counter.”
“I’m sure I could.”
He was going to make this hard. She smiled. “This is hard for me to say, Mr. Honeycutt, so I’ll just blurt it out and you can make of it what you will. I’ve been a prideful person my whole life—my governesses had a difficult time with me, as did my tutors, and I’ve grown accustomed to having my own way. You figured that out almost immediately, but it’s taken me a bit longer to realize it about myself.”
His lips twitched, but he didn’t say anything.
“You were, of course, right, but I didn’t want to admit it. Not to you, and most certainly not to myself. Admitting that I’m wrong feels like admitting that I’m vulnerable, and that means admitting that I’m scared.”
She hadn’t meant to say quite so much. She’d thought she could keep her apology short and factual, but there were so many things pressing inside her to get out, there was no way to keep them shut away. “Since our father died, Ariadne has looked to me as the leader of our family, even though she’s the eldest, and I’ve felt the need to be strong for her sake. The truth is, I’m not strong. I’m actually quite terrified. What if coming to America was the wrong choice? What if we’re about to lose everything, and we have no close friends to help us? I’m filled with fear every minute, and being proud is the only way I know to hid that fear. It’s not a responsible way to deal with my emotions, but it’s the only way I know, and you got the brunt of it. I’m sorry.”
He didn’t answer for a long minute, and she wondered just how long he intended to prolong her agony. The least he could do was nod or grunt or something to let her know he’d heard her.
At last, he said, “It’s Jake.”
“I . . . beg your pardon?” That was the last thing she’d expected to hear.
“My name is Jake. And I think you did a good thing, opening up like that and telling me how you feel. It can’t have been easy, traveling across the ocean like that and then clear across the country.”
“No, it’s been very difficult.”
“As long we we’re sharing our true feelings . . .” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I owe you an apology too. When I came around the bend in the road and saw you there in the middle of it, not knowing what to do, I was pretty terrified myself. The thing is, I’ve never met anyone like you before, someone who fills my thoughts and my dreams, and when I saw what you were trying to do, all I could think about was maybe losing you. So, my temper got riled and I let loose. I shouldn’t have come down on you like I did, but I couldn’t stand to see you in that situation, and I never want to feel so scared again.”
He hadn’t looked at her the whole time he was speaking, and it was just as well because her mouth had fallen open, and she was sure it wasn’t the most attractive she’d ever looked.
“Thank you for telling me that. I didn’t realize,” she replied softly.
He looked back up. “In answer to your question, yes, I’ll build your shelves and your counter. Does Saturday morning suit?”
“Yes, Saturday’s fine,” she replied, a little startled at the change in subject. Things had grown quite serious, and she supposed it was just as well that they moved on to something lighter.
“I’ll be by around eight o’clock.” He stood. “Your stove should be fine as long as you keep adding wood.” Then he was gone, and she closed her eyes.
She filled his thoughts and dreams?
Of all the things she’d expected him to say, that certainly was not it.
But she wasn’t upset. Not in the slightest.
“Well now,” she said to the empty room. “I think it’s time to plan some shelves.”
***
The next afternoon, Regina had just finished making a rough sketch of where she’d like the shelves to go and how deep she’d like them to be when a knock sounded at the shop door and Willie stuck his head inside. “I’m sent to tell you that the train’s here, ma’am.”
“Yes, I heard the whistle.”
He gave her a perplexed look. “But . . . why are you still sitting there?”
She finally realized what he was trying to say. “My order’s here?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“But it’s early.” She wasn’t expecting it for another two days.
“Aren’t you happy about that?”
“Yes, I am—just startled. I’m coming.”
She called up the stairs to Ariadne, who rousted herself from her nap, and they made their way to the train station as quickly as they could without seeming to run, because they had been brought up never to run in public. Regina had never understood that rule. Public was the only place that offered enough room for a decent run.
When they arrived at the station, they saw the baggage handlers carrying crate after crate off the train and stacking them at the edge of the platform. They just kept coming—some large, some small.
“Do you have a wagon or some other such thing to cart all this away?” the stationmaster asked, shaking his head as he looked it over. “We’re not going to have room on this platform for any people, if this keeps up.”
“Allow me to lend a hand.” Archie Grady stepped forward. “I’m expecting a shipment of my own and so I brought my horse and wagon, but I can see that these ladies need it more than I do. I’ll drive it right up next to the platform, shall I?”
Regina glanced around, wondering what other choices she had. She could go to the livery and rent a wagon, but that would take several minutes, and the platform was filling up fast.
“I think that’s a fine idea,” another man said, stepping forward. “Why don’t you do that, Mr. Grady, and I’ll help load and unload the wagon.”
The smile on Mr. Grady’s face faltered, but then broadened again. “Very good, Mr. McCormick. I’ll be right back.”
The newcomer turned to the Stoker sisters. “Forgive me for interrupting, but I thought I might lend a hand. My name is Sterling McCormick. You must be the ladies opening the tea shop.”
“Yes, we are,” Ariadne replied, her eyes huge. It was true—Mr. McCormick was very handsome.
“I’m glad to welcome you to town, and I’m equally as glad to help with your shipment. I would advise you to limit your dealings with Mr. Grady as much as possible. He’s not the most trustworthy sort of man.”
“I’ve had that feeling about him myself,” Regina replied. She felt perfectly safe with Mr. McCormick, however, and was so grateful he’d come along.
“I’m glad to hear that. Here’s the wagon now—I’m sure we can have you loaded up in no time.”
The baggage handlers from the train, with a good deal of help from Mr. McCormick, were able to fit almost everything on Mr. Grady’s spacious wagon. They would come back for the rest once the first load had been taken to the tea shop. Mr. Grady, for all his talk about wanting to help, mostly stayed off to the side, quite likely not wanting to dirty his fine suit.
At last, everything was inside the shop, stacked up against one wall. A few other men from town had come over to help and had nestled the chairs and tables inside each other so everything would fit while the shelves and the counter were built. Regina didn’t know how to begin thanking them.
“The pleasure was all mine,” Mr. Grady said with a bow before he left.
Mr. McCormick didn’t comment on that curious show, but merely bid the ladies good day.
Once everyone had left, Regina and Ariadne stood in the space that was left, staring at everything that had been brought in.
“We can’t even start unpacking until we have those shelves and the counter,” Ariadne said. “I’m so glad tomorrow is Saturday.”
“I am too,” Regina said. She wondered how long it would take Jake to build the things they needed, and how long after that it would be before they could open up their business. Now that they were this close, she was becoming impatient to see their dream become a reality.
Well, Millie Bing’s dream, actually, but it had become theirs as well.