Revealed (41 page)

Then he paused, and his expression grew somber. ‘‘Since departing Denver that first morning, we’ve become more like a family and less like strangers. But we’ve also left behind some of those we love most dearly in this world.’’

Matthew experienced a tightening in his chest as he sensed what was coming.

Brennan pulled a piece of paper from his shirt pocket. ‘‘If you’ll bear with me, I’d like to read the names of those we’ve had to say good-bye to. I’ll read them in the order in which we laid them to rest.’’

Matthew saw Annabelle bow her head, and he did likewise. He reached for her hand and laced his fingers with hers.

‘‘Jonathan Wesley McCutchens . . . Jewel Eloise Young . . .

Imogene Elizabeth Anderson . . . Ben Everette Mullins . . .’’ Brennan paused between names as he read.

Matthew sensed a common thread being woven through him, Annabelle, Sadie, and everyone around them. He chanced a peek at Annabelle beside him. Her eyes were closed, her head still bowed.

Tears trailed Sadie’s cheeks, yet she didn’t make a sound. She didn’t move.

‘‘Virginia Mae Dickey . . . Onice Dale Whitehead . . . Rayford Denton Whitehead . . . Agnes Preston Gattis . . . Charles Wilson Gattis . . .’’

He’d never imagined so many had been claimed from their number. No doubt over the past few days, he’d spoken to mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, and grandparents who were still mourning their loved one, trying to let go and move on inside even as they continued to push westward.

Brennan read the final name, folded the list, and bowed his head. Everyone did likewise. ‘‘Dearest Jesus, you know our hearts.

Every pain we feel, you feel. Nothing happens to us that doesn’t first filter through your loving hands. We sorely miss these loved ones we’ve laid to rest, and we ask, please, Lord, that you bring peace to the hearts that are hurting and guide our path to bring us Home to you.’’

Matthew looked past Sadie, quiet on the wagon seat beside him, to Annabelle, keeping pace with them on the gelding. He peered over to check how she was holding the reins. They were looped through her fingers, just as he’d taught her. He’d been right about this becoming second nature to her.

Since parting from Brennan’s group three days ago at the Snake River, the mood among the three of them had taken a more somber tone. Matthew knew where
his
tension stemmed from—having to leave soon. And he had almost convinced himself that Annabelle’s reticence was rooted in the same thing, at least in part.

Twice in the last couple of days, he’d come close to confessing everything to her. Telling her about San Antonio, his debts, the bounty hunter—everything. But the lack of privacy, and mainly his lack of nerve, kept him from it. He would do it before leaving. He just needed to find the right moment.

‘‘How much farther do you think, Matthew?’’ Annabelle asked.

‘‘No more than a day. You’ll be
home
sometime tomorrow.’’ The smile he mustered felt stiff and unconvincing.

They drove longer into the day, his desire being that they’d be able to arrive at the ranch before dark the following day. As Annabelle and Sadie set about preparing dinner that night, he unharnessed the grays, led them to a nearby stream, and set them to grazing until after dinner.

When he returned, he caught the familiar aroma of Annabelle’s biscuits. She and Sadie were working side by side, laughing about something. He paused by the wagon to watch Annabelle, following her movements as she bent over the fire and lifted the lid from the kettle using the hem of her apron. He rarely gave any heed to Annabelle’s clothes, but he’d long noticed the curves beneath them.

At that moment, she turned. When their eyes connected, she stilled.

A slow smile curved her mouth and Matthew returned it, feeling all the while like a child having been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Yet her manner bore no reproach over having caught him staring, and he was thankful for her understanding. He didn’t see her only in
that way,
after all. He saw all of who she was. But desiring her was part of that
all
. Kathryn Jennings had challenged him to try and find some common ground with Annabelle. Considering the outcome of that request, he let out a sigh. He’d found so much more than common ground with this woman. The transformation that had taken place in her had him dazed.

‘‘Do I have time for a quick bath in the stream?’’ he asked.

‘‘If you make it fast. Then Sadie and I’ll take our turns after dinner.’’

He grabbed the wash bucket from the wagon, along with a fresh change of clothes, and set out down the path. After he’d walked a ways downstream, he peeled off his clothes and sank into the cool water. He soaped up his hair, then dunked his head several times, noticing how long his hair had gotten since that last cut in Willow Springs. He finished bathing, shaved, dressed again, and made his way back to camp.

When he rounded the bend, he found Annabelle and Sadie waiting. Their simultaneous smiles had an unexpected effect on him, but it was the glimmer of mischief in Annabelle’s expression that triggered suspicion.

His steps slowed. ‘‘What’s wrong?’’

‘‘Nothing’s wrong.’’ Annabelle shrugged. ‘‘We’re just glad you’re back.’’

Sadie held out a tin pan piled high with crisp bacon, boiled potatoes, and biscuits already split and slathered with butter.

With a thank-you, he took the plate and shot a glance at Annabelle. He then looked back at Sadie, not trusting these two— especially together—in the slightest. He knew better. He studied the food, then seeing nothing unusual, lifted the tin over his head and peered beneath it.

That drew a soft chuckle from Sadie.

Annabelle giggled. ‘‘I promise you, Matthew. We didn’t do anything.’’

‘‘Right . . . and I’m supposed to believe you.’’

Annabelle’s mouth dropped open. ‘‘I’m hurt. Truly.’’ But her tone said otherwise.

He turned to Sadie. ‘‘If
you
tell me there’s nothing wrong with my food, Miss Sadie, then I’ll believe it.’’

The sweetest look of sincerity came over the girl’s face. ‘‘There is nothing wrong with your food, Mr. Taylor. I give you my word.’’

Without hesitation, Matthew tore into a biscuit, noting the way Sadie’s face lit up. ‘‘You, I trust,’’ he said between bites. ‘‘But her’’— he motioned toward Annabelle—‘‘not a chance.’’

Sadie laughed full at that before getting her own plate. The sound of the girl’s laughter was almost musical, and Matthew couldn’t help but steal another look at her. Still baffled by their initial reaction at his arrival back to camp moments ago, he sat down to eat—and worked to hide his surprise when Sadie claimed the spot of ground next to him.

He chose not to comment, deciding to let her set whatever pace she wanted in their relationship.

They ate in silence for a while. Then Sadie set her plate aside.

‘‘We were speaking of you upon your return, Mr. Taylor. That was the reason behind our smiles.’’ She bowed her head, her hushed voice growing even softer. ‘‘I thank you for what you did for me.

You do not know me, and yet you did this. I owe you much for your kindness.’’

Not knowing how to respond, Matthew looked at Annabelle for direction and saw the tears in her eyes. Sadie reached out a hand toward him, stopping well shy of touching him.

Following her lead, he offered his hand to her, but palm up, letting her make the final decision.

She placed her hand in his and gave the tiniest squeeze. ‘‘I am glad you are here, Mr. Taylor.’’

It took a moment before Matthew could respond. ‘‘Not half as glad as I am, Miss Sadie,’’ he whispered. ‘‘And I give you
both
my word on that.’’

Annabelle awakened during the night. Unable to sleep, she rolled onto her back and let her gaze wander lazily from star to star overhead. Resting her hand on her stomach, she imagined who the baby nestled inside her might favor once it was born and whether it was a boy or a girl. She hadn’t experienced any other problems recently and offered up a silent prayer of thanks.

The end of December still felt like such a long way off, but she wasn’t at all eager to wish away the coming months. Doubt tugged at her resolve every time she thought about being a mother to this child. Yet from continued experience with God, she was learning to trust that He would provide what she needed, when she needed it.

She heard a stirring and rose up on one elbow. Sadie lay nestled in a blanket nearby, her eyes closed. Annabelle looked across the fire at Matthew, unable to see his face, but the telling rise and fall of his chest told her he was still asleep. She stoked the waning fire and watched the flames flicker and draw new breath.

A tide of emotion swept through her that she could only describe as profound gratitude. Her breath caught in her throat as she thought back on the afternoon when she and Matthew had ‘‘just happened’’ to see Sadie walking down the street in the company of Mason Boyd. The odds of finding the precious girl had been stacked against them. Apparently stacked odds didn’t intimidate the Almighty—and neither had the events of her past life.

The night air trembled around her. She lay back down and closed her eyes. Tears crept from their corners. None of the men she’d been with had ever apologized to her—not that she would have expected them to. Even though she’d left that life behind, she realized in that moment what a burden of unforgiveness she’d been carrying around inside her—both for them and for herself.

Emptying her lungs of air, she breathed in deeply again, filling them until she could hold no more. Her chest tingled with cool, and she felt a touch of lightheadedness. Wiping her tears, she pulled the blanket up closer around her chin.

If God could forgive someone like her of so much, surely she could do the same.

Annabelle awakened refreshed, and following breakfast she repacked the crates. A ticklish sensation flitted inside her stomach every time she imagined seeing Jonathan’s land later that day. She was certain Matthew shared her eagerness. He’d been up before the sun and had worked quickly to harness the grays.

She spotted him across camp. Remembering how he and Manasseh used to sail across the range most mornings early on in their journey, she figured Matthew might welcome the chance to ride again. Especially today. When she asked him as much, he admitted that he would, so she and Sadie climbed up into the wagon and followed his lead.

Images of the ranch that Jonathan had planted in her memory kept springing to mind, and Annabelle shared them with Sadie as the morning drew on. Jonathan had been right—Idaho resembled Colorado in many ways. The mountains spanning the plains and valleys, along with the sprinkling of evergreen and pine, made her feel as though she hadn’t traveled that far from home. Yet the closer they got to the town of Sandy Creek, and to her new home, the more tightly wound her nerves became.

They made Sandy Creek by noon, but as she and Matthew had previously agreed, they bypassed the town in favor of locating the ranch before nightfall.

She called to Matthew riding just ahead. ‘‘How much farther, Matthew?’’

She could tell he was smiling by the curve of his cheek.

‘‘If I had a dollar for every time you’ve asked me that on this trip, I’d be a much richer man.’’

‘‘Just get me and Sadie to that ranch and you
will be
a much richer man.’’

He turned in the saddle and looked back at her. ‘‘You know, I’d almost forgotten about that.’’

She knew by the tone of his voice that he hadn’t but decided to test him anyway. She gently nudged Sadie with her leg. ‘‘As soon as we arrive, Mr. Taylor, I’ll pay you the remaining third of the money you’re due.’’

She heard his deep chuckle.

‘‘Yes, ma’am. You do that. And I’ll take the other third in gold.’’

She laughed at his response, but even more at Sadie’s chuckle beside her.

After they’d ridden a good hour north of Sandy Creek, Matthew stopped and motioned to his left across a narrow valley cleaved by foothills. Annabelle spotted the road veering off. She followed its path to where it disappeared in a curve shadowed by a stand of towering evergreens. She pulled the wagon beside him and reined in. The mountains rose in the distance, breathtakingly beautiful.

‘‘Is this it?’’

He surveyed their surroundings. ‘‘We’ve come about the right distance. According to Johnny’s directions, this is it. But I don’t see much. I’m tempted to ride on ahead and see what’s down this road before taking the wagon.’’

Annabelle shook her head. ‘‘No. I want us to go together.’’

He tipped his hat. ‘‘Yes, ma’am. I guess that’s the way I’d prefer to do it too.’’ He winked at Sadie, then prodded the gelding forward.

Annabelle slapped the reins. The road dipped and curved, but the path was wide and gave ample room for her to maneuver the rig.

When Matthew reached the bend in the road, he moved to the right and waited for her to catch up with him before prodding Manasseh forward again. ‘‘You said you wanted to do this together.’’

Annabelle glimpsed her own anticipation, and nervousness, in his face.

The air beneath the canopy of evergreens was noticeably cooler and sweetened with a pungent scent. Annabelle found her hands shaking as she guided the wagon beneath the tunnel of branches.

‘‘Just in case I haven’t told you, Mr. Taylor, thank you for everything you’ve done for me, and for seeing me safely here.’’ She was unable to imagine what it would be like to not see him every day, to not share his laughter.

His smile came on gradually. ‘‘It’s been my sincere pleasure, Mrs. McCutchens.’’

When they broke into the bright sunshine again, Annabelle raised a hand to shield her eyes from the brilliant light. As her sight adjusted, she could hardly comprehend what lay before her. Surely she and Matthew had made a mistake.

CHAPTER | THIRTY - FOUR

S
O MUCH MORE
. . . were the words that came to Annabelle’s mind as she guided the wagon down the road into the sheltered valley. She regarded the scene, feeling as though she were studying a landscape from a picture book. A landscape amazingly similar to the one Jonathan had painted in her memory.