Chapter Eight
Under the moon’s silvery rays, Rachel closed her eyes and leaned into Heath’s strong arms. She savored the kiss that rocked her and the feel of his gentle hands.
The soft lapping of the waves on the lake faded away.
It would be so easy to love this man. Already he invaded her thoughts. In fact, her very dreams.
Heath Lassiter made her feel beautiful. Wanted. Every inch a lady.
She was hard-pressed to remember all those years when he wasn’t in her life. Oh, he made her mad enough to chew nails sometimes with his penchant for taking over and ordering her about. But he had the biggest heart she’d seen.
When he broke the kiss, he continued to hold her as he might’ve a delicate china teacup. “I won’t apologize for kissing you, but I do for not asking you first. The moonlight, the lake behind us, the fragrant air is all so magical. I’m afraid I lost my head. I hope I didn’t frighten you.”
“No, I wasn’t afraid. I trust you.” She touched her lips that were still tingling.
His breath ruffled the hair at her temple. “I’m glad although I expected you to slug me for taking liberties.”
He must think her an emotional wreck. These last four weeks when she hadn’t been crying at every turn, she’d been so angry she couldn’t see straight. He probably thought her unhinged and maybe he was right.
“I still want to marry you,” he said quietly. “Maybe in time you’ll see that it wouldn’t be so bad.”
Rachel took a step back, breaking his hold on her. “I never said it would be bad. I only said that it was wrong to marry someone I don’t know. To marry simply because I have no one left is the wrong reason to enter into a union and I won’t do it.”
“Well, just so you know I plan on changing your mind.”
The challenge in his voice made her issue one of her own. “And just so you know you’re welcome to try. I’m awfully stubborn though.”
“I noticed that.” He fingered a strand of hair between his thumb and forefinger.
His touch was so gentle, tender. Unlike the rough, dirty hands that had held her down five years ago when she’d been taken and used as leverage against her father after he’d cheated his partners. A dark shiver raced through her. They’d done such horrible things.
We’re gonna get our share one way or another, a voice in her ear repeated.
Sometimes she woke from a dead sleep, hearing that grating tone, thinking she was still in their clutches.
A noise brought her back to the present. Sally opened the door and stepped out, glancing their way.
Rachel turned to Heath. “I should get inside. As we all agreed, I’m very tired.”
“Wait.” Heath put a hand on her arm. “Thank you for the walk. I enjoy your company.”
Rachel cast one last look at the brilliant moon beaming down on the man who almost made her feel whole again. “We’ll do it again sometime.”
His voice was as soft as the night. “Count on it. See you in the morning.”
By the time Rachel got inside, Sally had made a bed for herself on the floor in the main room. The smothering woman was bound and determined to have the final word on everything. Though Rachel loved her dearly, she’d let Sally know come morning she could care for herself. When she wasn’t so weary.
She went to sleep with warmth in her heart and the memory of Heath’s kiss.
Wonder of wonders, she beat Sally up at daylight. She’d awakened with the urge to watch the sun rise over the lake. Quickly dressing, she tiptoed to the door. Silently pulling it open, she almost fell headlong over Heath.
He looked up from the bed he’d made on the wooden porch. Jax had curled up beside him. Heath blinked, rubbing his eyes. “You’re up mighty early, Miss Rachel.”
“What are you doing? Did you sleep here last night?”
His crooked grin disarmed her. “You weren’t supposed to catch me. I meant to be up and have the evidence put away by the time you awoke.”
“Why on earth are you sleeping in front of my door?”
A sheepish grin gave him a boyish air. “Wanted to make sure you were safe,” he growled. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“For pity’s sake. I’m able to care for myself now, Heath Lassiter.”
“Yes, so you keep saying.”
“And I’ve got to learn to handle my own affairs. You’ve got to let me make my own mistakes and take my lumps. I mean it. I’m tired of you wrapping me in layers upon layers of downy goose feathers, afraid I’ll stub a toe or get a hangnail.”
Just then Sally joined them on the porch. “What are you doing here, Heath? Did you think I couldn’t watch after Rachel?”
Good grief. It was doubly bad when they both got it in their heads she wouldn’t survive without their watchful eyes. Rachel turned on her heel and marched back into the house. Enjoying the sunrise would most definitely have to wait until her two wardens left.
Her thoughts turned to going to the barn for her father’s metal box. At last, she’d look inside and find out if her hunches were right.
After breakfast was out of the way, Heath rose. “Are you ready, Rachel?”
“Yes, please. I have to find it.”
With Jax at her side, she matched her stride with Heath’s and went inside the barn. She glanced around. “Do you see the things from the root cellar?”
“There’s something stacked against the wall. Maybe that’s them,” he answered.
Only it wasn’t. They tried two more stacks, and she was losing hope.
“Maybe in the loft?” she asked.
“I doubt it. They wouldn’t have wanted to tote something so heavy up the ladder.”
Finally, she spotted them inside one of the horse stalls. “There!” She hurried to them weak with relief. But now that she’d found them, she hesitated. Truth was, she didn’t want to confirm what she suspected. Maybe best to not know. She chewed her lip.
“Get it over with,” Heath murmured, rubbing her back.
“I know.” She took a deep breath then took the key she’d found in her father’s pocket after he passed and slid it into the padlock. Rachel’s gaze met Heath’s. “Will you open it?”
When he did, they found four burlap bags emblazoned with Wells Fargo in big letters.
Rachel’s fingers shook so badly she couldn’t remove the twine securing the top of one. Heath undid it for her, and she stared at paper money plus gold and silver coins galore.
Even more surprising was the big array of jewelry—rings, necklaces, hair ornaments. All manner of men’s and women’s timepieces her father had stolen.
“Oh no!” Her heart plummeted to her stomach like a rock as the truth sank in. She pulled a wanted poster from under one of the bags and stared at the crude drawing of her father with his name in a bold headline and a ten-thousand-dollar reward offered. She whispered, “I really am an outlaw’s daughter.”
“Appears that way.”
“Part of me always knew. Whoever burned the house was looking for this. Put it back and lock the lid. I don’t want to look at it. This isn’t mine and I want no part of it. Stick it back in the root cellar. It’s as dirty and ugly as my father.”
“Think about that a minute. Someone burned your house before while looking for it. Do you want them to burn it again?”
Rachel wrung her hands. This was worse than she’d imagined. “You’re right. Okay, load it up and take it to your barn. I have to return it though as soon as I can.”
“I understand and would share those feelings if it were me.”
“Don’t say a word of this to Sally,” she begged. “Keep it between us.”
He brushed her cheek with a knuckle. “You don’t have to ask.” Heath shut the lid and locked it then hid it beneath a mound of hay. “I’ll be back for it with a wagon later.”
As they turned to go back to the house, Rachel spied one of Alice’s ragdolls, lying on a low shelf. A sob caught in her throat. Alice always had a doll in her arms. A sob escaped as she clutched it to her and kept walking.
“That your sister’s?” Heath asked.
The big lump made it hard to talk so Rachel nodded and they moved on.
With luck, Sally was outside. Once the padlocked box was safely out of sight, Rachel threw herself into mindless chores so she wouldn’t have to think. Sally went with Heath to fetch her goats and chickens back home. The bull would stay with Heath for a while as per their agreement.
They returned with a wagon around noon and Rachel kept Sally busy while Heath loaded the strongbox. She breathed a sigh of relief that it would soon be gone.
She was relaxing under a big cottonwood tree with Heath and Sally when Tillie came.
“Join us for some fresh lemonade,” Rachel said. “Sally bought some lemons from the trading post. It’s rare to get some.”
Jax raised to look and yawn then lay back down.
“I can’t resist.” Tillie climbed from her horse and looped the reins around a branch. “How are things? The house looks great. Very welcoming.”
“I’m trying to give it that feel. We just finished bringing my animals back home.”
Tillie accepted a glass of lemonade. “I figured as much.”
“What brings you out our way, Miss Gregory?” Heath rose to offer her the empty nail keg he’d been sitting on. Rachel liked how he always tried to see to another’s comfort. That was the mark of a good man.
In fact, if not for his annoying habit of taking over her life, he’d be awfully close to perfect. Everyone, it seemed, had flaws and maybe that was a rule of some kind.
Thanking Heath, Tillie perched on the nail keg. “When my problems start to strangle me, I like to get on my mule and ride. I just happened to end up here.”
“I’m glad you did,” Rachel said quietly. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“My problems are just more of the same, I’m afraid. Nothing worth bothering you over.”
Rachel wished she could be more like her ebony-haired friend whose pretty dark eyes belied the fact that her life wasn’t the easy one she let on. Tillie never let her troubles get her down. She seemed to take what came and persevered as best she could.
“How’s Yancy today?”
Tillie’s light laugh was nice. “He’s a little down in his get-along as he’s fond of saying. I guess it’s to be expected. After all, he’s about to celebrate his sixtieth birthday.”
“You don’t say?” Heath chuckled. “Yancy can still work circles around me. I think I need to pay him a visit. It’s been far too long.”
“I didn’t know you and Yancy are friends.” Tillie took a sip of her lemonade. “He’s never said anything.”
“Yancy taught me a lot about ranching after my parents were killed. I doubt we’d have survived without his help. He treated me like a son until one day it all changed and I never knew why.” A pained look filled Heath’s gray eyes. Rachel wondered what he’d been about to say. He handed his lemonade glass to her. “It’s time I headed home to do chores. You coming, Sally?”
“I’ll be along directly,” Sally said in her booming voice.
“Now, I’m sure Miss Rachel and Miss Tillie would probably like to visit. And we have things to take care of at the ranch.”
Sally eased her bulk up. “We do for a fact. I’ll be back later, Rachel.”
“No, please. I’ll be fine. I need—” Rachel paused, hoping to escape this current arrangement without hard feelings. Her gaze flickered to Heath waiting. “Lord knows, I’d hate to sound ungrateful, but I have to have some time to myself.”
“Now, that’s the last thing you need. I’ll be back by suppertime,” Sally said forcefully.
“Thank you, but no. Please.” Rachel hadn’t meant to sound so rude, but she’d had quite enough smothering.
Sally wore a puzzled expression. It was probably the first time anyone had stood up to her. “Well, if you insist.”
“I do.” Rachel hugged the hefty woman.
Heath looked from one to the other. “We have to respect and give Rachel her privacy.”
“Thank you both for all you’ve done and are still doing.” Rachel released a breath she’d been holding.
“We couldn’t let you go through this alone,” Sally said. “We care about you.”
“If you need anything, anything at all, you know where I am,” Heath said softly, taking Rachel’s hand. “Just promise you’ll lock your door. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
For a moment, she thought he’d kiss her and her heart fluttered. To her disappointment, the moment quickly passed.
“I’ll be fine. Please don’t worry about me.”
Sally went into the house and came back with the makings of her pallet. Rachel watched Heath help his sister up onto the wagon seat. He tied his horse to the back and they slowly headed up the canyon trail.
“They’re really nice people,” Tillie remarked.
“There’s no disputing that.” Rachel just wished she knew how to convince them she wasn’t as helpless as she seemed. “I hope I didn’t sound ungrateful for all they’ve done.”
“It didn’t sound that way to me. Wasn’t Heath’s statement about knowing Yancy a bit odd though?” Tillie gathered up the lemonade while Rachel collected the glasses. “It’s not like Yancy to have overlooked mentioning him all these years.”
Rachel walked toward the house with Tillie. “I just wonder what could’ve happened between them?”
“I don’t know but you can bet I’ll ask Yancy about it.”
They ate lunch and made plans for the following day. They’d bake more bread for Mr. Singer and start churning the butter.
It was late afternoon by the time Tillie left for home.
With no sign yet of Sally returning, Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. It appeared the woman just may have listened for once.
The clock’s loud ticking now filled the house. This was the first time she’d been truly alone since the day she laid Alice to rest beneath the soil. How she ached for the child. She sat down in the rocker, holding the rag doll.
Alice’s tiny voice flew from her memory of the day she died. “Love you, Chel.”
She never could say Rachel, but it didn’t matter. Fear had clouded the girl’s eyes as she’d clutched Rachel’s hand. “Don’t leave me. I scared.”
“I won’t, honey. I’ll be right here.” But Rachel had closed her eyes to rest them and went to sleep. When she woke up, it was too late. Alice was gone.
Who does that? Rachel wiped the tears from her face and hugged the rag doll. She finally rose and set about busying herself in the kitchen, preparing something for supper.
Life had to go on whether she liked it or not.