The uncharted series box.., p.31
The Uncharted Series Box Set 2, page 31
part #5 of Uncharted Series
Zeke dashed out of the stable block, laughing as his puppy chased its tail. Solo walked out after him. He had the lead line draped over his broad shoulder and an easy grin for Zeke that instantly reached his eyes when he spotted Eva. He touched the brim of his hat to greet her, and Zeke did the same, imitating his new mentor.
Everything in her told her to march up to Solo and demand answers. Why did he hold back the message from Revel for two days? Why had he sent away a potential new employee? Why was he really here?
But Zeke bound over to her first. “Did you see me riding King, Mama?”
She smiled at her son and made sure her tone held the joy he deserved to hear rather than the anger she felt toward Solo. “I sure did, sweetie.”
“Did I look big?”
“Yes, so big.” She reached out to smooth his hair, and he flung his arms around her waist. Even though he’d been outside all day, playing and sweating and riding, he still smelled like her baby. She pulled him close for a rare mid-day hug and picked a bur out of his hair. “Did you tell Mr. Cotter thank you for letting you ride King?”
Zeke pulled away. “Thank you, Mr. Cotter.”
Solo tousled Zeke’s hair, which Eva had just smoothed. “You’re welcome, partner.” He looked at her then. “I told him he can call me Solo.”
When she didn’t reply, Solo’s expression changed. Concern clouded his hazel eyes. He furrowed his brow as if asking her what was wrong.
She said nothing. He knew what he had done wrong. He’d held back Revel’s message and sent Sam away without permission. Maybe with a look she could invoke conviction. Maybe he would confess to whatever game he was playing.
Instead, he turned his attention to Zeke. “We’ll take King out again tomorrow. How does that sound?”
“Great!” Zeke shouted. He leaned down to his puppy and pulled on a stick the dog was chewing. “Did you hear that, Joshua? I get to ride King again tomorrow.”
Solo hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and looked up at Eva with a satisfied grin, as if he was rightly taking his place in their lives, in her business, in her family.
She wasn’t about to upset Zeke by confronting Solo right now, but she wouldn’t leave Solo in his satisfied state for long. She leveled her gaze at him and whispered, “We need to talk.”
* * *
A thick cloud passed above Solo as he stood in front of the stable block watching Eva’s expression darken. It was more than the turn in weather that was chilling the air between them. She held her pretty chin higher than usual, and a thin ring of white outlined her dark irises. Whatever she needed to talk about had riled her feathers.
He squatted beside Zeke, who was playing tug-of-war with the dog. “Hey partner, why don’t you take Joshua over to the big tree and tell your grandpa all about riding King.”
Zeke obeyed him without question. He was the most well-behaved kid Solo had ever been around. Solo stood as Zeke happily ran to the other side of the yard.
When the boy was out of earshot, Solo stepped closer to Eva. He opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, but she beat him to it.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The force in her words matched the fire in her eyes. “You have a lot of nerve, Solomon Cotter!”
Well, it took a lot of nerve to stand close to this woman when she was mad. He almost stayed where he was to stake a claim in whatever battle she was starting, but he’d dealt with willful creatures his whole life. Gentleness built trust. He took a half step back and held up his hands. “Whoa, girl! You mind telling me what this is all about?”
“Don’t whoa girl me.”
“Take it easy.”
“I’m not a horse.”
“You’re not yourself.”
“You don’t know me well enough to say that.”
“I know you better than you think I do.”
Something in her eyes reminded him of his mother—not how she usually behaved, just occasionally… once a month to be exact. Suddenly, it made sense to him. Not that women’s troubles ever made sense to a man, but he remembered how his father handled his mother during her angry-for-no-reason moments. He slid his hands into his pockets and looked her in the eye. “Eva, I care about you. Take a deep breath and tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help.”
She slanted her head a degree and pursed her pink lips. “Your behavior. That is what’s wrong. You had no right to do what you did.”
Solo glanced around trying to understand the cause of her outburst. His gaze landed on the paddock. “Oh, that. I was teaching Zeke how to ride a horse. He was perfectly safe.”
“He is not yours to teach.”
His heartbeat picked up, heating his collar. “Maybe not, but your son is a good kid and eager to learn. He likes me. He follows me around asking questions all day, and I don’t mind. You know why?”
Eva didn’t answer, but a glaze of surprise briefly weakened her stubborn expression.
When she only stared, he continued. “Because I like him too.”
She turned her face toward the bench where Frederick sat with her son. Zeke’s arms gestured wildly as he demonstrated riding King. A faint grin curved Eva’s mouth. Solo wanted to pull her close and kiss her. Maybe that would cure what ailed her. It would either cure her or ruin him. His respect for her outweighed his desire. “Look, I’m sorry I gave Zeke a riding lesson without asking you first. I know King is a big horse, but he’s gentle.”
She had every right to be concerned with her son. He couldn’t imagine what she’d been through with losing a husband and raising a baby alone, but he was sure it made her worry about losing Zeke too. He’d seen the way she checked on her son all the time—out the windows during the day, peeking into their room every few minutes in the evening when Zeke was falling sleep. Maybe if she knew a man cared about her son too she would let go of some of the worry. He reached for her fingertips. “I will not let anything happen to Zeke, I promise.”
She snatched her hand away. “That isn’t what this is about.”
His chest tightened. “Then what is?”
“I know what you are trying to do here.”
“I’m trying to help you, that’s all.”
“Help?” She laughed one sarcastic note. “By trying to undermine my authority? By hiding messages from me and my father.”
Her vague accusations hit him in the gut. “Wait, what?”
She propped both white-knuckled fists onto her hips. “You know what you did.”
No matter how much he loved her lips, the words slithering from them were the same his mother always said when his brother had lied to get him in trouble. It always worked then, and the seething phrase still boiled his blood. He yanked off his hat to let the air cool his scalp. It didn’t help. “I’ve worked my hide off for the past month for you and never once tried to undermine your authority. If you have a bone to pick, you’d better do it.”
She forcefully stabbed the air with one thin finger as she spoke. “You held back Revel’s message from us. Father said you got it from the trader two days ago but didn’t mention it until today.” She flicked her wrist at the road where a dust cloud still lingered from Sam’s hasty departure. “And Sam told me you sent him away. You knew I wanted to hire him. I need Revel to come home and I need to hire another man. I trusted you and you betrayed me.”
Her scathing allegations raked down his spine. Time of the month or not, no one had the right to talk to him like that. He wasn’t the put-upon kid who took abuse anymore. He wasn’t this woman’s hired hand, too dependent on the work to stand up for himself. And he wasn’t her husband, so he didn’t have to suffer from her mood swings.
He had, however, promised her she could count on him and he wouldn’t leave Falls Creek until she told him to. And he’d made that promise because he loved her. Still did. He fanned his face with his hat then put it back on. “Eva, you’re wrong.”
“I’m not—”
He held up a palm to silence her and it worked. But before he could tell her why he’d told Sam to leave and that he didn’t know what message from Revel she was talking about, she spun on her heel and stomped away.
Fine. He would let her cool off. She would probably go into the kitchen and gripe to Sybil. Maybe her sister would talk sense into her. He would burn up his frustration by working until dinner. Then he might be ready when Eva apologized to him.
Chapter Twenty-four
Breakfast aromas lingered in the dining hall while Eva listened to her father read from Ephesians. “And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.”
Rain pattered against the windowpanes as Frederick continued giving the short message he’d prepared for the inn’s weekly Sunday morning service. Eva’s gaze drifted to Solo, who was sitting at the next table. He looked smart in his pressed waistcoat and cravat. Her mind wanted to stay angry with him, but her soul recited the verse she’d just heard. Tenderhearted, forgiving one another…
She’d been anything but tenderhearted toward Solo during the past two days. Her stomach had burned since the moment she’d decided he must be trying to force his way into a job. The only thing that gnawed at her more than the tension between them was the conviction of knowing she needed to forgive him.
No matter what his plan was, it wouldn’t work on her. Still, he had one last week at the inn. She needed to forgive him just as God had forgiven her.
A silent sigh flowed from her lungs, relaxing her stiff shoulders. Solo had done so much good for them. That should be her focus for the next seven days. Then, at the end of Solo’s stay she would send him away with a sincere thank you for his work and food for the road, but no job offer and certainly not her heart.
She was the last person in the room to bow her head while her father said the closing prayer. It was the same prayer he prayed every Sunday. Zeke leaned against her side so she put an arm over her son. Her sister breathed softly sitting next to them. Surrounded by family, Eva still felt lonely. Of course she was lonely—she was a widow. Grief was to be her lifelong companion. She had reminded herself many times, but that didn’t feel right anymore.
All that was left was a garbled hunk of confusion clogging her heart. Since Solo had been trying to maneuver her for his own gain, she could ignore the feelings for him that had been budding inside her. It didn’t matter that he was courteous and gentle, loved her son, and had saved the harvest by working a month for nothing. And that he’d kissed her. The confusion he had caused in her was natural after all that, but now she could let it go.
Solo would soon be out of her life, but he had unlocked a door in her that she never thought would be opened. Now that it was, her feelings were more clouded than the autumn sky.
All that she had accepted about her lot in life—her widowhood and raising Zeke alone—came into question. Did she miss Ezekiel or did she miss the ideal family she thought they would be?
Most days it was difficult to remember what her late husband looked like. She could conjure up memories of one aspect or another—grainy glimpses of his eyes or lips—but never all of his face at once. Even his image had departed her. What was she clinging to?
A wordless prayer lifted from her heart, a plea for God to give her peace if she was free to love again, and for Him to remove the guilt if she was no longer bound to Ezekiel.
Frederick said Amen and dismissed the family, guests, and traders, ending the service. As everyone rose from their seats, Sybil pulled Eva close and whispered, “Maybe the Lord has more for you in life.”
Sybil’s words sank in and left Eva wondering if it was God’s answer to her prayer. Tears threatened to warm the corners of her eyes, but with a room full of people, she wasn’t about to let them flow. She tucked a stray brown curl off Sybil’s cheek and forced a smile. “Of course, He does. And for you too, Syb.”
As the guests and Eva’s family members mingled in the dining hall, Zeke tugged on her wrist. “I want to show you something, Mama.”
“All right,” she said as he led her out of the room. “Where is it? I don’t want to go outside in the rain in my best dress.”
“We’re not.” He led her past the staircase and into the reception room where he stopped her in front of the divan. “You sit here, Mama.”
“Very well.”
“I hope you like my surprise.”
The preciousness of her child wanting to please her warmed her heart. “I’m sure I will.”
Zeke hopped to the bookshelf and drew a single piece of paper out from between two books. After plopping down beside her on the cushion, he held the hand-printed page in front of them both. “Solo gave it to me.”
As her son scooted close to her on the divan, she read the pristinely written top line aloud. “The Moody Mare by Solomon Cotter.” She glanced down the corridor toward the dining hall but couldn’t see Solo. Looking back at the page, she lowered her voice. “Do you want me to read this story to you?”
“No, Mama. I’ll read it to you. That is my surprise.”
She scanned the first few lines. “Are you sure you know all these words?”
Zeke nodded and began reading the story to her. She tried to focus on the fable, but all she could hear was the sweet sound of her baby boy reading. When he reached the end, she wrapped him in a hug, wishing he would stay like this forever but knowing he was growing even now as she held him. She kissed the top of his head. “I am so proud of you.”
He pulled away and looked up at her. “Then why are you crying?”
She dabbed a tear she didn’t know had escaped her control. “Happy tears, that’s all.” She smoothed the thick fabric of her skirt. “Excellent job. Have you read it to Grandpa yet?”
“Not—” His gaze moved to someone behind her and he smiled. “Not yet.”
She looked back to see Solo standing in the doorway. He had one hand in his trouser pocket and a humble grin creasing the lines around his mouth.
Zeke glanced between them. “You two probably need to talk.” His young voice speaking mature words made Eva and Solo both chuckle.
Solo squeezed Zeke’s shoulder as the boy passed him. “Thanks, partner.”
Zeke grinned. “I think she liked your story.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Solo stepped to the armchair across from the divan and sat opposite her. He propped his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers. “Listen Eva, I—”
“No, don’t.” She stopped him not wanting to hear any more about his hiding the message from Revel or his chasing off her potential employee. “You and I have had a rough couple of days. I think it’s best for everyone if we forget about everything.”
“I can’t.”
“It’s all right, Solo. I forgive you.”
He drew his head back a degree and stared at her over the tips of his fingers. “You forgive me?”
“That’s right. Even as God for Christ’s sake has forgiven me.”
He raised his scarred eyebrow. “Well, aren’t you noble?”
“Sarcasm doesn’t suit a children’s writer, Solomon.” She picked up the paper Zeke had left beside her on the cushion and scanned the sweet and moralistic tale. “You might have captured my son’s heart, but I’m not so naive.”
His jaw bulged while he tightened it. “You are crossing a line here.”
“Me? How about you?” Her volume raised more than she intended, so she tried to calm down before anyone overheard them. “You tried to hide Revel’s message from me.”
He shot to his feet. “That is not true.”
“And you got rid of Sam so I wouldn’t hire him.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Before she could counter him, he turned away and paced the rug in front of the bookcase, rubbing the back of his neck. After a moment he turned back around, his voice quieter but edged sharper than sewing sheers. “Why are you doing this, Eva?”
“I was trying to tell you I forgive—”
“The only way I wronged you was by making you feel something you didn’t want to feel.”
He was right about that. She’d spent a month feeling guilty and confused and infatuated. She watched the rain hitting the window so she wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. “I will not fight with you anymore.”
His boots softly thumped the floor as he walked to the divan and sat beside her. “All I want is to win your heart, but how can I? I can’t fight a dead husband.”
His words pierced her aching heart. How could he say such a thing? Whatever his game was, if she let it get to her, it was working. Teardrops hit her hands. She quickly wiped them away and whisked the others off her cheek. “I have a son to raise and an elderly father to take care of and an inn to run. I don’t have time for this. The last thing I need is a man coming here, trying to take over my life.”
“Eva, I’m not—”
She stood. “I’ll honor the deal my father made with you, but the moment your forty days are up, you have to leave.”
Pain darkened his eyes. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
She paused to take a steadying breath then managed a certain nod. “It’s for the best.”
“Don’t do this.”
“Solo—”
He reached for her hand but stopped before he touched her. “You need help with the farm until the new man starts. I can stay a few more weeks. Eva, don’t make life harder for Frederick and Leonard.”
His hand hovered in front of hers, waiting for her to reach out. Instead, she stepped back. “I’ll manage. I always have. I don’t need you, Solomon.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Solo stepped over a manure pile on his way to the barn for the evening milking on his last day at the Inn at Falls Creek. Nothing had gone the way he’d planned. His stories remained unwritten. He’d worked harder for the past forty days than he had in the past year at the ranch. And Eva’s heart was still as hard as a hoof.
As he walked into the open barn, the sound of milk spraying into a bucket came from the back of the dark building. Under the light of an oil lantern, Leonard was sitting on a milking stool beside the farm’s crankiest cow. He turned his gray head away from the cow. “I can handle her tonight, son.”
