Rocky Mountain Romp (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 4) (2 page)

“For now, though as the town grows, people may come to us more often. And we’ll need all the rooms if there’s an outbreak of cholera or pneumonia.”

They finished their walk and sat together to eat their lunch, looking up at the big empty structure and envisioning the future.

“Five years, my dear,” Johnathan said.

“Next spring it will be six—for our marriage.”

He caught her hand and kissed it. “I was speaking of our life here, but yes, I cannot forget the day I met you. I can still see you peering at me through the apple blossoms.”

Her cheeks flushed at his warm look. “I remember.”

“I would say the best day of my life was when you agreed to be my wife, but the days have only gotten better since.”

“You have no regrets then?” Esther asked, a wistful turn to her voice.

“None.” Pulling her hand, he drew her closer and kissed her.

Laughter rang out from nearby, and the Shepherds broke away from each other just in time to see the Wilders come strolling out of the stables. Rose ran ahead, her face alight with joy. Lyle caught up and tugged her hand, turning her so he could pull a piece of straw from her hair.

Johnathan and Esther shared a knowing look.

“Not long before those two have a baby of their own,” Johnathan said. He stood and missed the shadow that passed over his wife’s face.

“Enjoy your lunch?” he called to the Wilders and offered a hand to lift Esther up.

“We haven’t had it yet,” Rose admitted.

“I was showing Rose the stables.” Lyle grinned and plucked another piece of hay from his wife’s red hair.

“Is that all? It looked like you were rolling in the hay,” Johnathan teased, and Esther’s mouth fell open. Her husband never spoke so forward about such things.

“Can’t lie to a minister.” Lyle shrugged, catching Rose in his arms. “You ready to catch another baby in a few months?”

“Really, Rose?” Johnathan’s eyes lit as he turned to the redhead. “You’re—”

“Not yet,” Rose said, pushing at her husband’s chest. “Lyle speaks what he wishes were true.”

“Only a matter of time,” Lyle said, reaffirming his hold around his wife’s fighting body. “I want a troupe of redheaded boys, all ready to work the land and settle up and down the river.” His hand slid down over Rose’s front. “Take heed, darlin’. If I don’t have one by next Christmas, I’ll tie you to the headboard until I’m sure one’s planted in your belly.”

Swatting at his hand, Rose blushed, and Esther looked away for a moment.

“If you’re done with the stables, would you like a tour of the building?” Johnathan asked, noticing his wife’s sudden quiet.

“After lunch. Must eat to keep up our strength.” Lyle let his wife go, and she shot away to get the lunch pail. The handsome Wilder watched her departure with a huge grin on his face.

Johnathan cleared his throat. “You think we can finish this build by first snowfall?”

“If we keep to schedule. Rose and I are paupers this winter, leaning on other’s charity and my savings. Miles has hired me to help with his cattle, and been more than generous with his stores, but a man likes to pay his own way.”

“We can pay for your labor, whether in foodstuffs or money,” Johnathan assured him.

“I know you will, preacher.” Lyle didn’t seem overly worried about the state of his affairs. Then his face darkened. “Of course, if my ne’er-do-well brother would keep his promises, we wouldn’t be in such straits.”

“Isn’t he in Texas?” Esther asked. She’d met the young Wilder once, and had been surprised at how alike, yet how different he was from his brother. Lyle Wilder had a face as proud and well-formed as a Greek god’s, and while Jesse’s face had the same strong structure, it had a rough-hewn quality that gave him a more rough appearance. Add to this a few scars, an unruly thatch of black hair and cocky demeanor, and Jesse Wilder looked the part of the wild drifter he was wont to be.

“He was in Texas, and California before that, and then in the Pony Express for a few months in between.” Lyle blew out a breath in exasperation. “Last time I saw him he said he’d be here for the winter, but that could mean anything from December to May, or he could be back tomorrow.”

“Are we talking about your good-for-nothing brother?” Rose returned with the lunch pail.

Lyle sighed. “Yes, my love. But I’m the only one who can call him that.”

“A good thrashing would set him straight,” the redhead huffed.

“Believe me, I give him one a year.” Lyle bent to help his wife lay out the food, and the Shepherds excused themselves.

“I promised Miles a cask of cider for his effort today,” Johnathan said. He offered his arm to Esther and started for the house.
“Are you all right, my dear? You seem rather reserved this afternoon.”

“I’m fine. Perhaps just tired from all the excitement.” Esther forced a smile, but Johnathan could tell she wasn’t feeling any cheer. He also knew she came alive around people; most of the time he had to play a calming influence on her loud enthusiasm. Stopping halfway to the house, he patted her arm. “Why don’t you go see the stone the men are bringing for the fireplace. It’ll be a huge hearth, with two sides just as you requested.”

Esther brightened. “All right. And I’ll go inspect the layout again, to plan on how to arrange the patients’ rooms.”

She started to bounce forward, and Johnathan caught her arm. “You can explore, but be careful. You don’t know what part of the frame is secure or not.”

Nodding, Esther watched her husband trek back towards their house. For a few minutes she walked the perimeter of the new building, examining each room and imagining what it would be when it was more than a few beams, nails, air and sawdust.

Esther saw Mr. Martin, the town shopkeeper, scurrying up the road past the build, and she had an idea. Biting her lip against her laugh, she stepped onto a pile of lumber and used it to boost her onto a beam a few feet off the ground. After a shaky few seconds, she got her balance and stood, straightening her skirts in triumph. A childhood of climbing up trees made balancing no problem, and she called to the shopkeeper.

“Mr. Martin!”

The man started looking to and fro like a squirrel unsure whether to run. Esther almost did laugh then. Standing straighter, she waved to the man.

“Mr. Martin! Up here. I’m—”

A bolt slipped, and the board cracked under her weight, hurling her to the ground. Only a few feet from the ground, she landed on her feet, but the momentum carried her forward and she stumbled into the pile of lumber, which toppled over with a resounding clatter.

“Mrs. Shepherd,” Mr. Martin cried, puffing forward. Lyle and Johnathan beat him to the build, the former checking the beam and the latter throwing himself to his knees beside his wife.

“Esther, what in the world? Are you all right?”

“Just fine,” she said weakly from her position sprawled on the ground. Her legs were folded under her, but when she started to move, Johnathan’s strong hands held her in place.

“Wait, my dear. Let me check for injury.”

“Injury?” Mr. Martin arrived at the Shepherds’ side, breathing hard with sweat trickling from his balding head.

“Yes,” Johnathan said, preoccupied with drawing Esther’s legs out carefully from under her skirts. “I just want to check for any breaks, or blood.”

“Blood?” Mr. Martin squealed, and then fainted dead away. Lyle came to the shopkeeper’s side too late to keep him from slamming into the sawdust.

“Can you see to him?” Johnathan said, barely sparing the downed Mr. Martin a glance.

Miles arrived at the build and stared askance at the scene. Johnathan helping Esther and a bemused Lyle squatting next to the unconscious Mr. Martin. “What happened?” he asked.

“The cross beam wasn’t secure,” Lyle explained. “Esther climbed up to flag Mr. Martin and it came down, and her with it.”

“And him?” Miles gestured to Mr. Martin.

“Fainted when I mentioned there might be blood,” Johnathan said. “He has a weak constitution. Prop him up and splash some water on his face, and he’ll be fine.” His hands worked up and down his wife’s legs.

“I’m sorry,” she mouthed to him, cheeks red with embarrassment.

“Does this hurt?” Johnathan worked one leg, then the other, acknowledging the shake of her head, but continuing to examine her until he was satisfied.

“Nothing broken,” he pronounced and gripped his wife’s arm when she would rise. “Careful.”

“All right, Mrs. Shepherd,” Miles said. “Thank you for inspecting our work, but I think you and the ladies would be better off safe inside the house.”

“Gentlemen, I apologize,” Esther said, but didn’t meet anyone’s eye.

“No harm done,” Lyle said with a grin. “Just a loose beam. And well, him.” He waved a hand at the shopkeeper, who was beginning to rouse.

“Let me help you.” Johnathan drew his wife up.

“I’m fine,” Esther said, and walked a few steps to prove it.

At the entrance to the build, Rose came to Esther’s side. “Lean on me,” the redhead said, and the two women walked off together.

Johnathan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

Lyle chuckled. “Don’t be too hard on her. Rose loves seeing a minister’s wife with that much spirit. And, compared to my wife’s antics, Esther’s are quite tame.”

“I won’t be too hard on her. But she’s due a good punishment.”

“Carrie wouldn’t sit easy for a week,” Miles muttered. The three men started for the downed beam, working together to set it to right.

As they worked, Johnathan kept thinking how Esther’s fall could’ve been so much worse. It wasn’t the first time she’d acted wild. Her energy was part of what he loved about his wife, but lately she seemed all too willing to go further and further for a lark—even if it risked her life. On a visit to a mining camp, for example, she ventured into a side cave after a prospector teased her that it was unsafe, and had upset a family of bats. Her shrieking had upset the whole camp. Another trip, she’d drunk half a bottle of some awful moonshine—again on the dare of some jokester trying to gain the attention of the pretty blonde—and ended up sicker than the patients he’d ridden to see. Then today, balancing on a beam for some silly trick. Johnathan knew when he married her that she loved adventure and had a knack for getting into scrapes, but her escapades had taken on a desperate quality, as if she was trying to distract herself from her own life. Even discipline sessions accompanied by lectures on setting an example as a minister’s wife didn’t have any effect.

When Johnathan shared this with his friends, Lyle’s eyebrows went up and Miles rubbed the back of his neck.

“Get her with child,” Lyle advised. “She’ll be less reckless.”

Johnathan hesitated. “I don’t know if she’s shared this with any of the women, but Esther may be barren. She had an unnatural birth on the trail, and a harsh miscarriage. The bleeding may have harmed her body.” He took a deep breath before he could say what he almost couldn’t bear to admit. “She may never have a child.”

Miles put his hand on the tall minister’s arm. “Have faith. It’ll see you through.”

* * *

“Esther!” Johnathan called as soon as he entered the house. The men and woman had all gone, headed home before sunset. Johnathan had waited outside, finishing up the day by chopping some firewood, and giving his wife a good long chance to anticipate his homecoming.

Sure enough, she met him in the parlor. “Yes, husband?”

Towering almost a foot over her, he had to school his face carefully to keep from softening his expression. Dressed in simple green muslin, her long blonde hair hanging down her back in a braid, his wife was truly lovely, and it was hard not to show the joy that leapt in his heart every time he saw her. “How are you feeling?” he asked, sitting down on a chaise.

Hands folded in front of her, head bowed, she looked the picture of contrition. “I’m fine, Johnathan.”

He patted the seat next to him. “Sit down, let me see your ankle.”

She sat, and he lifted her feet into his lap to check.

“They’re not even hurting,” she protested.

With a final pat, he let her swing her feet back down. “You’re fortunate. It doesn’t look swollen. But we’ll keep an eye on it.”

She knelt before him, helping him with his boots. She kept silent, but her lips pouted a little, and Johnathan knew she was waiting for the lecture and the punishment.

“Dearest, what am I going to do with you?”

“I was only having some fun.” She set his boots aside, but remained on the floor at his feet.

“I know you were. But what did I tell you would happen the next time you put your life in danger climbing up something?”

She came to her feet then, submission falling from her. “I thought you meant no climbing trees!”

“You’re reckless.” He stood too and glowered down at her. “It’s my job to keep you in hand. You need to make better decisions. You’ll be receiving a caning this Sunday, along with your regular maintenance.” The cane made for a harsh punishment, but Esther had a high tolerance for pain. Anything less wouldn’t teach her a lesson; indeed, she might even enjoy it.

Her mouth fell open to protest, but he raised a brow. “What do you say?”

Her jaw opened and shut once before she conceded. “Yes, sir.” Huffing a sigh, she started to turn away, but Johnathan caught her arm, a little surprised at her attitude.

“I’m not finished. You’re also writing lines tonight. One hundred.”

Esther’s pout returned full force. She hated sitting and writing more than the cane.

“Esther?” he reminded her sternly.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” His hands went to her shoulders. “I know it’s harsh, but you need correction. I’m not going to let his behavior continue. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” Her voice softened.

He hugged her. “Let me make sure your ankle is better. We’ll address it on Sunday.”

* * *

Miles was dreaming. In his dream, his wife Carrie lay next to him, still big with child. She was tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, and finally he sat up. Leaving the bed, he lit a lamp and then returned, a jar of fine oil in his hand.

Carrie woke as he drew back the covers.