Chapter 3
Gieselle awoke with a jolt. Remembrance came back in a humiliating flash as the night air brushed her hot cheeks. She had fallen asleep on Aaron’s shoulder. She jerked upright and put a few more inches between them. What he must think of her? She had insisted on traveling to the ranch as soon as she got off the train, although he’d warned her they wouldn’t arrive until well after dark.
Aaron pulled back on the reins. “There it is.”
An arch made of two log poles with a wide board connecting them announced the Circle A ranch. The name was burned into the wood that had weathered to a silvery gray, shimmering in the lantern light. “We’ve actually been on ranch land for about a mile already. This marks the fenced pastures and the house over that rise.”
“We’re almost there?” Gieselle strained to see in the dark, but it looked like the pastures were empty, which she supposed, they would be at night. Still, the grass grew high, waving in the wind.
“We are,” Aaron answered, sending her a sideways glance, a lazy smile making him look even more handsome than before. He slapped the leathers, urging the horses forward. “This is the best grazing land in the whole state. You can see why your aunt doesn’t want to sell it.”
Did he think she knew enough about ranching to recognize good grazing land? No, she didn’t, but under the almost full moon, she could see lush pastures in this valley with spectacular mountains on the right and wide vistas on the left. Mama wanted her to convince Aunt Liddy to come back to New Orleans, but this place was as different from New Orleans as any land could be. Aunt Liddy had lived here—happily with Uncle Morris—for over ten years, a long time since she’d lived in Louisiana. Gieselle could understand why she didn’t want to leave. It was her home.
A wide trail led from the arch to the house, which hid in shadows until they came near. It was one story, but much larger than Gieselle had imagined. A porch ran the length in front with six wooden columns holding up the wooden shake roof. Gieselle could make out at least two chimneys.
As soon as Aaron stopped the buggy in the circular drive, Gieselle jumped down. She knew Aunt Liddy would be asleep, but she’d wake her and find something to eat. Poor Aaron would like something to eat, as well.
She knocked on the large oak door. With no response forthcoming, she knocked harder, then tried the latch. It released and the door swung open. The room, probably a front parlor, was in shadows. A light shown from an opening to the right.
The light wobbled like someone was carrying a lantern. It couldn’t be Aunt Liddy since she was bed-ridden, so Gieselle opened her mouth to announce her presence. A man rounded the wall with a shotgun in hand.
She flung her hands out in front of her face, as if that would protect her from a bullet. Then she scrunched her eyes shut and screamed, waiting to die. Only she didn’t.
“Ma’am, I’m powerful sorry to scare you.” The strange man’s voice sounded contrite. “You must be Miss Liddy’s niece.”
Her eyes popped open and she pressed her hand to her heart as a servant’s bell started ringing frantically. “I’m Gieselle. I shouldn’t have barged in.”
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Gieselle. I’m Wally Stillman. Sounds like your aunt woke up. I’ll show you to her room.”
She followed Wally to a different hallway. The front door crashed open and Aaron fell in, brandishing his pistol. “What’s going on?”
Gieselle swallowed her heart again. “My, does every man on the premises point a gun before asking questions?”
“I startled the young lady,” Wally said. “I was just taking her to Miss Liddy’s room.”
“Go ahead.” Aaron holstered his pistol. “I’ll see if I can’t rustle us up some grub, Gieselle—and a pot of coffee. I think we could all use a cup.” If Gieselle was a drinking woman, she’d have suggested something stronger. Her father surely would have, but she was glad Aaron showed no sign of having a taste for whiskey yet. She’d been warned the people of the west were either teetotalers or drunks. There didn’t seem to be a middle ground. She’d reserve judgment on that. People were so fast to prejudge those whose culture was different.
“No coffee for me,” a still chagrined Wally said. “I’ll be going back to bed.”
She would’ve volunteered to cook up the grub, but she wanted to see Aunt Liddy first, so she kept close to Wally’s heels. The servant’s bell still rang loud enough to be heard all over the house as the cowhand opened Aunt Liddy’s door.
Gieselle heard a gasp as she moved around Wally and entered the bedroom.
Aunt Liddy looked good for a woman who had been in bed for two weeks with both legs broken. Her blonde hair lay in a thick braid on her pillow, and her watery blue eyes beckoned. She held out both arms. “Gieselle, you’ve come.” A tear rolled down one cheek.
Gieselle felt tears forming in her own eyes as she knelt beside the bed and went into her aunt’s hug. After a few moments with only sniffles breaking the quiet, Aunt Liddy placed her palms on Gieselle’s cheeks and they stared into each other’s eyes. “You’ve grown into a beautiful woman. I can hardly believe your mother let you come all the way out here.”
Reaching into her waistband to find a handkerchief, Gieselle dried her eyes and pulled up the bedside chair. “Mama wanted me to come, but even if she hadn’t, I would have come when I heard about your accident. I’m a grown woman now and since my dear godmother, Maudie, left me with a small inheritance, I’m totally independent.” A chuckle escaped. “At least for the present.” Aunt Liddy was an independently-minded woman herself, so she’d understand.
“So, what do you think of my little ranch?” Aunt Liddy asked. Gieselle could see the pride shining in her eyes.
“From what I could see in the dark, it’s beautiful. I can’t wait to just explore your house. It’s larger than our New Orleans house, I do believe.”
Aunt Liddy laughed. “Almost. Morris wanted to add a second story, but since we didn’t have children—”
Gieselle knew that was a sore spot in her aunt’s life. She laid her hand on Aunt Liddy’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, but when I marry and have children, we’ll all come for the summer to help with the ranch and we’ll need the room.”
“Thank you, dear. Are you still engaged to that young man Agnes wrote me about?”
At the mere mention of Sam Grimes, Gieselle pursed her lips. “No, he had other plans. I’m truly free and independent.”
Her aunt took a long moment to digest that bit of information. With a twinkle in her eyes, she reached out and grasped Gieselle’s hand. “What do you think of Aaron?”
Gieselle moved her head from one side to the other. “Aunt Liddy, you beat all. He’s not married, is he?”
“No, and he has money of his own so he won’t be after yours. I don’t know how much, but his stepfather is wealthy and, I suspect, Aaron is trying to prove himself.”
Gieselle laughed lightly. “He won’t be able to prove himself working as a cowhand, will he?”
Aunt Liddy’s features turned serious. “He wants a share of my ranch. He asked to be a partner. That’s a far better deal than I’ve gotten before. Most want to buy me out for a song. Morris and I had agreed never to get a mortgage at the bank, and that’s the only way I can build up the herds unless I take Aaron’s offer.”
A little glow flared up in Gieselle at the thought of Aaron staying on at the ranch for a long time. Why she cared, she wasn’t sure at present, except he was a good-looking and gentlemanly man, and if he came to care for her, it would go a long way to heal her bruised ego. Yes, she finally admitted, Sam Grimes had hurt her when he admitted he cared more for her social standing than he cared for her.
“Are you going to accept Aaron’s offer?” It occurred to her she should have been using his surname, but she honestly couldn’t remember it.
“He’s bringing the lawyer from Rattlesnake Ridge to talk to me, so unless the lawyer is discouraging, I will accept. He’s offering me sixty percent; that’s a lot better than most partnerships, or so I’ve been told.”
“He seems like an honest man.” She knew Aunt Liddy had lost a lot of cattle since Uncle Morris died. Mama had told her losing the cattle had cost Aunt Liddy dearly.
“Did you tell him about our Aaron?”
The question hit a funny bone in Gieselle. No one outside the family knew about their Aaron. “Believe it or not, I did mention that I’d tell him the story sometime.”
“Oh, do. He’d enjoy it.” Aunt Liddy stifled a yawn.
“I should let you get back to sleep, Auntie. Is there anything I can get you before I go to bed? By the way, where is my room?”
Before Auntie Liddy could answer, Aaron spoke from the open doorway where he stood, holding her bags. “Wally said he cleaned up the bedroom directly across the hall.”
Aunt Liddy yawned again. “Thank Wally for me, y’all. No, Gieselle, I don’t need anything more tonight.”
“I’ve fixed sausage gravy to go with Wally’s biscuits for Gieselle’s and my supper. Wouldn’t you share a cup of coffee with us?”
“No, dear, but you two enjoy your supper. I expect you’re both tired and hungry.”
“If you’re sure?” Gieselle said, dropping a kiss on her aunt’s forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
The smell of fresh-brewed coffee drew Gieselle like a honeybee to nectar. Aaron had already set out two plates of split biscuits slathered with a rich white gravy laden with bits of sausage. She sat at one of the place settings and Aaron poured the mugs with coffee. A tray filled with butter, a jar of jam, a gravy boat, sugar bowl, and creamer sat before her.
Aaron took the chair opposite hers and rendered a short blessing. She liked that, that he was a praying man. She’d never have caught Sam Grimes praying.
Her stomach had already stopped growling, probably given up on actual food and was feeding on itself. She cut a bite of biscuit and let it rest on her tongue for a moment as she savored the flavors. After another mouthful of the biscuit, she sipped her coffee. It was rich and mellow—not as strong as she’d have expected him to make.
A tan and white shaggy dog sauntered in and stared up at Gieselle with hopeful eyes. “Hello, fellow. Where did you come from?” She pinched off a bit of biscuit and dropped it to the dog who dove for the food and wagged his tail. She was his friend for life. Dogs knew what was important and who to trust.
“That’s Goldie, one of the cattle dogs. She stays inside now to keep a watch on Miss Liddy. She’ll come outside and find me or Wally if she needs anything.”
“Well, I promise not to take your job, Goldie. You can stay and help me take care of Aunt Liddy.” She dropped another bit of biscuit.
She cut another biscuit in half and slathered it with blueberry jam and butter. “This biscuit is delicious, even stale, and the gravy was the best I’ve ever eaten. How did you learn to cook so well?”
His grin revealed double laugh lines. “At my mama’s knee. She was a great cook without a daughter to pass her know-how on to, so she taught me. I can cook biscuits, too, though they might not compare to Wally’s.”
She dabbed a napkin to her mouth, still holding his gaze. “Tell me about it. I started bothering Maydell, our cook, when I was five, wanting to cook real food for my dolls.” She lifted her mug with a chuckle. “I suspect I knew my dolls couldn’t eat real food.”
“I guess you could say I started cooking with Ma by accident. When I was seven and my older brother, Trevor, was twelve, Ma asked him to help her bake bread for an ailing neighbor. Pa had gone on a trip and refused to let Trevor go with him, so Trevor was sore. I could see that Ma was trying to make him feel better about staying home. Unfortunately, Trevor didn’t take it that way. He said he wouldn’t be caught dead in an apron, that the kitchen was for girls, and he didn’t care about woman’s stuff. Said he was going out and check on his horse.”
“That was rude. If I’d said anything like that to my mama, she’d have told me to cut a tea weed switch and bring it to her.” Mama had always been the disciplinarian in her house, probably because Papa was gone so much.
Aaron refilled their mugs. “Ma wasn’t like that. She was a tender-hearted woman, much like your aunt. But Trevor was her stepson and he never accepted her as his mother.”
“What did you do after Trevor left the kitchen?” She knew there was more to the story.
“I dawdled at the table and Ma went about cleaning up. When she bent over the table, I could see she was crying, so I asked her if I could help her bake bread.” He laughed, crinkling the edges of his eyes. “My loaf was tough and twisted into a strange shape, but Ma made a fuss out of it and forced all of us, including Trevor, to eat it for dinner.”
“So she encouraged you and you enjoyed cooking.”
“That’s the way it turned out. I and my younger brother were always closer to our mother than our stepfather, with reason, I guess. Pa Stanley and Trevor stuck together and my younger brother, Anthony, and I stuck with Ma, so it worked out.” The edge in Aaron’s voice told Gieselle it hadn’t worked out well at all. She didn’t have as close a relationship with her father as with her mother. In a way, she could relate to Aaron. Her father was preoccupied with business much of the time, leaving her mother to take care of the children.
Gieselle didn’t doubt her father loved her, though, but Aaron didn’t have that assurance growing up.
Aaron raised his gaze to stare at the far wall. “As I said, my mother was a tender-hearted woman and loved us all equally until her last breath.” His voice grew husky with emotion. “Your aunt reminds me a lot of my mother, a woman who always puts others first, never complaining.”
She caught a glint of a tear at the edge of his eye, reminding her she really couldn’t relate to him. He’d lost his father and mother at an early age. She couldn’t even fathom how hard that must have been. How heavy the grief still was. But he was such a masculine man, his tears caught her off guard. A surge of sympathy flooded her. Without thinking, she laid her hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Aaron.” What else could she say? I know how you feel. No, she didn’t. She hadn’t lost a close family member except great grandmother Drake, and she’d lived a good, long life.
They stared into each other’s eyes and something passed between them. A feeling so deep, it went beyond physical attraction. A meeting of the mind and spirit.
“Where does your younger brother live?” She meant the question to divert him from his painful memories. He obviously wasn’t close to his older brother, Trevor, but maybe he and his younger brother held more in common.
“Anthony died in Carson City almost a year ago.”
“I’m so sorry.” She gasped and pressed his arm harder, trying to convey her sympathy. Questions tumbled through her brain, but she couldn’t voice them. Aaron was still a stranger. His gaze lowered to where her hand lay and she jerked it back.
“It’s getting late. You’d better head off to bed. We get up early in the morning on the ranch, and you’ll have to help your aunt.” His voice still held a hard edge. “Wally will have breakfast ready in the morning.” His chair scraped the wooden floor as he rose. “Good-night, Gieselle.”
She watched him disappear through the back. It was late, but she probably should clean up before retiring for the night so Wally wouldn’t have to deal with the dishes. There wasn’t much to clean up.
The empathy he’d evoked in her reminded her of sixth great Grandfather Aaron’s letters. But he wasn’t that Aaron.
And she wasn’t sixth great Grandmother Giselle, either.