Come Spring (43 page)

Ted leaned back in his chair. He stroked his beard as he chuckled, chortled, wheezed, and patted his belly. “Now, how did I know you were gonna say that?”

B
uck
Scott’s skinning knife couldn’t have cut the tension that was building between the occupants of the ranch house.

Richard Thexton had been there for nearly a week, and for all that time Annika had managed to avoid being alone with him. Now, as they sat together in the parlor like two strangers making polite small talk, she wished that Rose would come to her rescue as she had all week. Even Kase had somehow sensed her need to keep the man at a distance, so he occupied Richard’s time whenever he could. But today her brother had ridden into Busted Heel to try and talk the doctor into coming out to the ranch to stay until Rose—a week overdue—had her baby.

Annika stared down at her folded hands that rested so primly in her lap and winced. The tableau was all too reminiscent of her old life in Boston. Richard was seated the appropriate distance beside her on the settee, while she primly sat on the edge, her back as straight as a broom handle. An overwhelming sadness pervaded her when she realized that everything about her life with Buck was slipping further and further away until she was afraid the entire experience would soon become irretrievable, even in her memory.

Ignoring the man beside her, she traced the heavy embroidered swirls that embellished the skirt of her velvet gown. The bright heliotrope decorated with yellow stripes had been the latest in fashionable colors when she left home. The dress itself was seamless, another Worth creation, and the tightness of the fitted waistline only gave her cause for more worry.

With Richard’s arrival immediately on the heels of her conversation with Kase and Rose, there had been no opportunity for her to visit the doctor in Busted Heel and find out for certain if she was carrying Buck’s child. In a hurried conversation by the barn the night of Richard’s arrival, Kase had suggested that she should consider marrying Richard and going back to Boston.

“And pawn off someone else’s child on him?” She had been appalled at the thought.

Kase had countered, “You still don’t know if you’re really pregnant or not. Maybe your monthly is just late.”

At the time, as they stood huddled in the long shadows of the barn, she couldn’t believe she was having such an intimate conversation with her big brother. But she found it less difficult than she would have imagined.

“It’s never late,” she had insisted in a hushed whisper.

“Then you had better tell him the engagement is definitely over so he’ll leave. He’s bent on taking you back to Boston and marrying you to put an end to any gossip the news articles might have spawned.”

“I’ll talk to him,” she had promised Kase that night, “as soon as the time is right.”

But until now the time had never been right. Either Kase or Rose or Buttons had been with her whenever Richard was around. She had recently suggested he drive her into Busted Heel to pick up some baking soda for Rose, and although she hoped the hour alone on the isolated road would give her time to explain, Annika couldn’t find the words—or the courage—to tell him she would not be going back to Boston with him. Nor had she the nerve to make up an excuse to visit the doctor.

Outside, gray clouds threatened to deliver spring rain. The ornate silver clock resting on the mantel prodded her with every tick to tell him she could not marry him and have done with it. She looked over at Richard, who was contentedly scanning the front page of the Cheyenne
Leader.
Long and lean, he seemed slight in comparison to Buck. His fingers were slim and tapered; they belonged to the hands of a man who worked with papers and ledgers. His celluloid collar was stiff, fitted to his neck like a shackle. His dark blond hair was neatly combed to one side, the part as perfect as the center fold of the page he held in his hands. She realized she had never seen him with his collar off. She had never, for that matter, seen him with his shirt unbuttoned, nor had she seen his neck, his throat, his collarbone.

Curious, she leaned closer. Of course, she’d never seen his chest, either. Was it covered with a thatch of golden hair like Buck’s? Were the muscles of his chest as sharply defined as an armor breastplate, like Buck’s? Her cheeks aflame, she let her gaze drop to the crotch of his pants. Was there anything about Richard that was like Buck Scott?

As she sat there mentally undressing him, she knew he would be aghast at her blatant perusal and speculation over his anatomy. She nearly leapt off the settee when he glanced up from the paper and met her curious stare.

He smiled. His teeth were white and even, his skin smooth and freshly shaved. She wondered if he shaved twice a day to keep it that way. Buck would surely have to.

Buck again.

And again and again.

Buck Scott might be lost to her, but he was never out of her mind. It wasn’t fair to Richard to let him dangle on the end of a long rope.

She had to end this travesty and end it now.

But before she could speak, he said, “Is Rose making tea?”

Annika cleared her throat. “Yes. Yes, she is. I should go see if I can help.”

Coward. Coward.

He folded the paper shut with a snap, set it on the pedestal table beside him, and took her hand. “I’d prefer it if you stay. I haven’t had you to myself for a moment since I arrived.”

Tongue-tied, she looked down at their joined hands.

Unfortunately, so did he. “You aren’t wearing my ring.”

Annika pulled her hands away from his and smoothed her skirt for the hundredth time. She cleared her throat. “No. I left it in my mother’s keeping. I’m certainly glad that I did, under the circumstances. Richard, I—”

“Annika, I want you to know that I’m still willing to marry you despite what’s happened.”

“I’m glad you’ve finally brought it up because, you see, I—” Just when she had gathered courage for her revelation, he cut her off again.

“I hope you don’t think your abduction matters to me. Oh, I know you were forced to spend two months in close proximity with that barbarian who carried you off, but the mere fact that you survived and were able to keep your wits about you only goes to prove what strong stuff you’re made of. That’s the kind of woman I need beside me. I’ve always been intrigued with your exotic nature. With you beside me I can conquer the world, or at least my little part of it.”

She tried to imagine Buck uttering such romantic phrases, but the idea seemed ludicrous enough to make her smile. Richard had to be the most understanding man in the world, the most forgiving. Anyone who had read the account of her abduction in the papers knew that she had spent two months in intimate contact with a stranger—and now Richard was willing to overlook such scandal when most men would not

She felt terribly guilty turning him down again. He was exactly the man her parents wanted her to marry. He was the epitome of Back Bay Boston. His hands were soft and his skin hardly ever saw the sun, but that was no reason to cast him aside for a man who didn’t even care enough to find out if she were dead or alive.

With a glance toward the parlor door, Richard leaned closer.

He’s going to kiss me now. Then I’ll know. I’ll know for certain.

But he did not kiss her. Her merely squeezed her hand and said, “I love you so much that I’m willing to overlook your abduction just as I have everything else.”

Taken aback, Annika frowned. “What
else
is there?”

He shook his head as if she were the simplest creature alive. “Well, you know, the Indian blood and all.”

   22   

“T
HE
Indian blood?
What
exactly
do you mean by that?”

Annika jerked her hand away from his and stood up, her throat tightening.

He got to his feet and put a hand on her shoulder. “I had no idea it was such a sensitive subject or I would never have brought it up.”

“It’s not a sensitive subject. It’s just not a subject at all.”

He looked so condescending she wanted to slap him and slap him hard. “I suppose it’s best you handle it that way.”

“That’s not what I meant. I just never think about it one way or another. It’s part of me, just as it’s part of Kase and my father.”

“I’m sorry. I can see I’ve upset you, darling.”

“Please, tell me what you meant by
overlooking
my Indian blood.”

He reached out, fingered the matched pearls at her throat. She stepped back, unwilling to let him touch her.

“Surely you must understand. I just wanted you to know it doesn’t matter to me in the least.”

“Meaning that it does to some people?”

“You can’t tell me you don’t realize your family has never been fully accepted in Boston? Good heavens, everyone knows the stories about your half brother and his savage temper.”

“Don’t use that word in reference to my brother!”

For the first time ever she saw a flicker of anger cross Richard’s face. “Which word,” he said, “temper or savage? It’s a well-known fact that your brother lost his job at the law firm because he nearly strangled a man in the office with his bare hands.”

She remembered Kase’s abrupt departure from Boston. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

“And the fact that your mother has been involved with not one but two Indian men?”

“Involved?
You make it sound as if she’s been having an affair all these years! Caleb is her husband. And my father, too, so don’t ever forget it.”

He was sweating now. A thin line of moisture beaded his upper lip. “The only reason they have a foot inside the door in Boston society is because of Caleb Storm’s father’s family background and his connections in the capital.”

“Why, Richard, I thought perhaps you had forgotten he’s a lawyer, not just a
savage.
His connections in Washington go back twenty years.”

“Annika, let’s not fight over this, please. As I said, it means nothing to me.”

“Stop saying that! If it meant nothing to you, you wouldn’t have brought it up.” Unable to settle her rattled nerves in his presence, she turned away and walked to the parlor door. She strained to hear Rose in the kitchen, but the house was silent. Determined to end it, she swung around and met his stare.

“I can’t marry you, Richard.”

“Look, I’ve apologized,” he said.

“It’s not only because of what you said today. I just don’t love you enough. I don’t think I ever did.”

“But—”

“I was infatuated. I think perhaps what I loved most was the idea of being married. I wanted it all—the wedding, a home of my own. I wanted independence, not marriage.” She turned away from him and walked to the back of the settee. Grasping the walnut trim that outlined the velvet upholstery, she squeezed until her knuckles whitened. “My parents, bless them, have always made my world safe and secure. Obviously a little too sheltered. Because I don’t look Indian I’ve escaped the slurs my father and brother have faced, but I’ve never turned my back on my heritage. They kept me from the truth, obviously to spare me this sort of pain.” She thought of Buck and the vast differences between them, of her initial reaction to him and his way of life, and then of the change that had come over her when she opened herself up to love.

“I see now that my mother and father should have at least given me a glimpse of real life, complete with its poverty, its prejudice, its pain, and its promise. I’ve had a taste of a new life since I left Boston and it agrees with me, Richard. I want to know more. I want to have the pleasure and the pain. I want to live. I want to face up to what I am and what I want, whether it’s good for me or not.”

Richard’s face slowly colored from the neck up. The only other visible sign of his tightly controlled anger was the way he held his fists balled at his sides. “You’re making a big mistake, Annika.”

With a slight half smile, she shook her head, denying his words. “I don’t think so.”

“Ankah! Ankah!” Unaware of the strain between the two adults, Buttons ran into the room. She grabbed Annika about the knees, bunching the many yards of velvet in a great hug.