Banking on Temperance (12 page)

What he had already done for them was more than sufficient. And why had he taken them on, anyway? If he’d just taken the damn form that he needed a signature on out to the wagon instead of having Reverend Jones come into the bank and crumple onto the floor, he could have avoided the whole situation. They would be long gone by now. Not his worry.

Maybe. But the minute his eyes met Temperance’s as they knelt by her father, they had formed some kind of bond. She telegraphed with her eyes that she was aware of her father’s true condition and wanted to shield her mother from it. And he deferred to her judgment. Which is why they were now at this yawning impasse.

And a chasm it would remain. He still wanted to help, and if that meant letting her continue in her rash decision to marry Jeremiah and let him lead her family to Oregon, then so be it. It wasn’t as if he himself was going to step forward and offer her marriage. Make her choose between himself and another man. No, she’d settle for nothing less from him than a proposal of marriage, if he toyed with her affections anymore. And, if she stayed in this town much longer, he’d do a whole lot more than toy with her affections.

Just the way she had spit out Jeremiah’s name and then whispered his in hushed tones made him realize she was developing feelings for him that went beyond friendship. Perhaps, instead of trying to set up barriers to her achieving her goal of joining up with a wagon train based on logic, the best thing he could do for them both would be to encourage her. That was the only way to put some distance between them.

He wasn’t ready to hang up his bachelorhood, but he’d come very close last night to hauling her nubile body on top of the table and taking her. She had been aware of just how close he’d come to completely losing control. But still she told him she trusted him not to spoil her. She placed an enormous amount of faith in his ability to control his wilder impulses. The least he could do was live up to that trust.

The wagon masters were now coming to the end of their long journeys in Oregon and California and would be racing back to St. Louis and St. Joseph to spend the harsh winter months here, getting their supplies together for the wagons heading out in the spring. He was familiar with a couple of these men, having spent time together over the card tables at the tavern and at the dance halls.

He’d inspect them this winter with an eye to trustworthiness and steer Temperance’s family toward the ones he deemed appropriate. Perhaps he could even interest one of them in Temperance’s mother, Martha Jones, despite her current condition. Yes, that’s what he would do. Help the family fulfill their mission to head out on the wagon train come spring. More power to them.

Temperance slowly walked her horse home, staying in the middle of the road. At least what she hoped was the middle. The snow muffled the ordinary clip-clop of the horse’s stride. There were no wheel tracks of any kind in the layer of white. Just some small animal tracks from the wildlife that had ventured out last night once the wind quit screaming.

Which was exactly what she should have done. Ventured out after the wind quit blowing and the snow tapered off. How foolish she was to put herself in the way of temptation. And Basil Fitzpatrick was one big tempting man. Once again, she vowed to find a new job and stay miles away from him. It was the only way she could fulfill her promise to her father, and get the family, and her brothers, safely to Oregon, The Promised Land.

She whispered Basil’s name again, enjoying the feel of each syllable on her tongue. Just as she’d enjoyed the feel of his warmth up against her backside this morning. A blush crept up her face again as she remembered the intimate position in which she had found herself. She’d bolted upright as soon as she grew cognizant of exactly who she was snuggled up against, but what she really wanted to do was to turn over and come face to face with him. And mouth to mouth. A cry caught in her throat as she pounded the pommel of the saddle in her frustration.

Life might be hard, but a relationship with a man shouldn’t be. Her parents were shining examples of how a relationship should work. They’d carved out a hard life for themselves, but one thing was certain to each and every person who came into contact with them: they’d loved each other, and their children, with a fierceness that was unparalleled. Would Temperance ever be able to find a man she could love in the same way her mother loved her father? She didn’t think it was possible.

The simple fact that she kept finding herself in awkward circumstances with Basil was enough to make her realize he was not a wise choice for her. Despite his good looks and charm, she was reaching way beyond the scope of where she should be to even entertain the thought of a relationship with him. Basil came from wealth, and he was a slick businessman. Jeremiah was a farmer, similar to what her father had been. Her mother was happy with her lot in life, even with her large brood — visible evidence of her ardor for her husband.

Temperance should be able to replicate what her parents had, only if she could erase all thoughts of Basil from her mind. She needed to transfer all the feelings she had for Basil — her knight in shining armor — over to Jeremiah. He was going to be the true savior of her family, if only she could find her way back to the love she once had for him.

Back to the love? Now that was an interesting thought. You have to at one time have been in love in order to get back to it. Had she ever been in love with Jeremiah? Really? When Basil’s facial expression changed last night from humor to ardor, and it seemed as if he wanted to leap across the table and crush her to himself, her body’s core pooled with a need so profound she nearly doubled over from it. Jeremiah had never affected her in such a manner.

But possibly, now that she was familiar with how Basil kissed, perhaps she could teach Jeremiah the proper way to kiss a lady. Then she could develop the same feelings for him that she had for Basil. Couldn’t she?

She took a deep breath as the little lane leading to the soddy came into view. Yes, that’s exactly what she would do. Jeremiah was a strong, capable man who was merely lacking in a few of the refined social graces embodied by Basil, who had far more experience with the ladies. Jeremiah’s lack of experience should be a point in his favor. So why did she keep thinking of it as an attribute to Basil? Oh dear. The road ended long before her thoughts did.

• • •

Temperance slid off her horse just as the door to the soddy burst open and her younger brothers and sisters came tumbling out. They had been cooped up in the damp, smelly, little sod house since the previous afternoon, and were ready to jump and play in the snow. Temperance grabbed them in a group hug and laughed as they separated into boys versus girls for a snowball fight. Her money was on her sisters to win that battle.

Even though they were a non-violent family, they each took a turn learning how to handle firearms. After all, they needed to provide meat for themselves, on the edge of civilization. Call it fate, or genes, or whatever. Her father had been no good with a rifle and neither were her brothers. She was an expert marksman with a gun and Prudence had great aim, too. If it ever came to a battle, give the sidearms, or the snowballs in this case, to the ladies — at least in the Jones family.

While Justice took care of getting her horse back to the stable, Temperance walked into the dimly lit interior of the soddy and spoke to her mother, who was boiling water for another load of laundry. Already, the scent of the harsh lye soap they used hung in the air. Martha turned from the large tub of hot water and smiled at her. “Where did you end up last night? When you didn’t come right home when the snow began, I figured you’d have to stay in town. It did come down mighty fast. Did you get a room at the inn?”

Now that would have been sensible.
“No, Ma. By the time I realized it was snowing so hard that I couldn’t leave, it was too late and the inn was full. I took one of Mr. Fitzpatrick’s blankets and slept in the small office of the bank last night. It was uncomfortable, but better than trying to come home when I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face.”

And that’s the very first time I’ve lied to my mother.

“Well, I’ve been on pins and needles the better part of a day now. Mr. Walters, you know that nice postman in town, rode all the way out here yesterday with a letter for you. Said he thought it was an important piece of mail, so he wanted to hand-deliver it. He hurried back to town before the snow prevented him from being snowbound, but wasn’t it nice of him to come all this way?” Martha smoothed a stray lock of hair back from her face and got a strange, secret smile on her face. At least that’s what Temperance thought.

“It seems to me he went above and beyond what a postman should be doing. Had you even met him before? Why would he come all this way out here, knowing you’re a woman alone?”

Temperance hoped to deflect away questions regarding where and how she had actually spent the night by focusing on her mother’s strange visit from Mr. Walters.

Martha raised her voice. “There was no intention on his part other than to deliver the mail, Temperance. How dare you even suggest such a thing! To answer your question, yes, I had met Mr. Walters before yesterday. He and I have talked in the post office a time or two. He expressed his sorrow for poor Samuel’s passing just last week when I ran into him on the street. He was merely doing his duty by delivering the mail, regardless of the weather.”

“I’m sorry, Ma. I didn’t mean to cast aspersions on his character. Of course he was merely doing his duty. He seems to be a nice man. Where’s the letter?”

“What?” Martha shook herself and wiped her hands on her apron. “Oh, it’s right here. It’s from Jeremiah. Maybe it will tell you when to expect him! Do open it quickly.”

With trembling fingers, Temperance tore open the envelope and unfurled the solitary piece of crude stationery. She read it quickly, and then glanced up at her mother with tears in her eyes.

“He’s not coming.”

By the time she was scheduled to clean the bank again, Temperance had formulated a plan. And she needed Basil’s help to pull it off. Which meant she had to give up her idea of finding a new job, at least for the time being. Basil was the only person in town she could talk to, and right now, that was more important than any discomfort she might be feeling caused by their close encounter the other night.

Lifting her hand, she knocked at the back door and took a deep breath while she waited for him to open it and let her in. She smoothed down her muslin skirt and made certain the stray tendrils of hair that had been pried loose by the wind as she rode into town were back in place.

Basil opened the door quietly and stood to one side as she ducked into the large open room. She had not seen him since the awkward morning after the snowstorm. She took a moment to feast her eyes on him. Then, with a great force of will, she broke off her perusal, took a deep breath and said, “I must talk to you.”

“Certainly, Temperance. Shall we discuss your matter in the small office where you slept the other night?” His grin told her he was attempting to make her smile at their secret. Her mouth twitched, but she needed him to get serious, since she had important things to discuss with him.

“I’m not in the mood for any of your shenanigans, Mr. Fitzpatrick.”

He lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t respond as she led the way to the chair opposite his desk in the main room of the bank. “Here will be fine. Please, sit down.” She motioned for him to sit at the desk. He nodded, and sat down.

Temperance took a deep breath, and continued. “I had a letter waiting for me when I arrived back home the other day.”

“From Jeremiah, I assume?”

“Yes, of course.”

“And when is your hero going to arrive in town and put everything to right?”

Temperance squirmed in her seat and avoided looking directly at him. “He’s not coming. Rebecca Stoughton convinced him to stay in Pennsylvania with her. They married a month ago.” Her eyes sparkled with frustrated tears and she blinked rapidly to keep them at bay.

Basil expelled a long breath. “I’m sorry, Temperance. I know how much you were counting on him.”

She finally raised her eyes to look across the desk. “I, uh, I thought he loved me.” She choked on the words.

“Maybe he did for a time. But life, and absence, has a way of changing things, and a person’s priorities have to shift in order to keep up. He never really wanted to leave Pennsylvania in the first place. If he had, he’d have come with you last spring, harvest or no. What will you do now?”

Her eyes snapped as she began to discuss her plans. “It’s obvious that Justice is not yet a man, and can’t lead us on the wagon train. So, we are left with two choices. Either we hire a man to come with us, or I impersonate one.”

Basil’s laugh erupted in her ears.

“Are those such impossible plans that you would scoff at them?”

“Not the first plan. You might be onto something there. Perhaps there is a man in town who is so desperate to escape the trappings of an established town that he’d be willing to take the helm of your wagon, with your mother about to give birth on the trail, and your siblings all trailing along behind him. But I can’t think of any person in town whose straits are so dire. Or any man who would be reputable enough for you to consider for the job. After all, he must be a safe, reliable person. You don’t want to head into Indian country with a man you can’t trust. I’ll think about it and see if any come to mind who you might approach.”

“Thank you, Mr. Fitzpatrick. That would be most helpful.”

He glanced across the desk. “Ah, so we’re back to Mr. Fitzpatrick again, are we? Well, I refuse. I’m going to keep calling you Temperance.”

“You are within your rights, sir, since I am merely your employee. But, to me, you are Mr. Fitzpatrick.”

She ignored the devastating smile on his face, and waited for him to get serious again. He shrugged his shoulders before he replied.

“But as for your second plan … ”