Read One Heart to Win Online

Authors: Johanna Lindsey

One Heart to Win (13 page)

She was surprised. “This is the first I’m hearing that Nashart is a mining town.”

“One mine doesn’t constitute a mining town, at least not
yet. Earlier in the year, copper was found in a gulch just east of us, a bit too close for comfort. Butte is one of the biggest mining towns in the territory. One of the mine owners there by the name of Harding sent one of his crews here. A mine was in operation pretty much overnight before anyone in Nashart even heard of the find.”

“And?”

“Two veins were found. One of them runs under our property. We didn’t even know they were digging under us until one of their tunnels collapsed and left a damn big hole that a few of our cattle got injured in. Pa was furious, but Harding’s foreman claimed they didn’t know they’d trespassed. So they tried to buy that strip of land from us, tried to lease the mining rights, even offered to make us partners. Pa said no on all counts. He’s a cattleman through and through. He could care less that we’re sitting on a rich copper vein. And, yes, it’s already occurred to me that Harding wouldn’t mind if we up and moved—or died.”

Tiffany felt anger rising and her tone with it. “So you’ve got a mine owner who wants your land, but you naturally assumed it was young boys who took those shots at you and Cole? When it could have been a miner instead?”

“What makes you think the Warren boys are young?”

“I just assumed, since Cole is and he and Roy had that first altercation.”

“After those two fought, yeah, it was natural to assume that. Still is. Harding was told no. The sheriff was called in. Ain’t nothing they can do but finish off the vein they got and move on. Gold, silver, copper, it’s all been found in Montana, too much to kill for it.”

“Maybe Mr. Harding doesn’t see it that way.”

“Then he’d be a fool!”

“Who says he isn’t?” she shot back angrily.

“Is it my turn to say, ‘You’ve
got
to be kidding’?”

Degan was back, leaning against the doorframe. He didn’t look amused, merely curious. Hunter threw down his rag and walked out of the room without another word. Tiffany faced the sink again to hide her blush. Did she really just participate in a shouting match with the owner’s son?

Stiffly she said to the man behind her, “Are you going to inform Callahan senior that I should be fired?”

“You want to be fired?”

She swung around. “You don’t think I should be? I’m sure Hunter does now.”

There it was again, that slight turning up of the lips that could have been a smile but wasn’t. “Because you had an opinion?”

“It was an inappropriate disagreement. I should have kept my thoughts to myself.”

“If Hunter wants to fire you, he’ll do it himself—but I guarantee that’s not what he wants.”

Chapter Fifteen

T
IFFANY RETIRED EARLY THAT
night to the bedroom she’d picked out earlier, a rather nice room, if spartan and small. A tall bureau, a standing wardrobe with a narrow mirror on the inside of one door, a double bed with a side table and lamp, an unlit brazier for the winter. So maybe it was a little too spartan. She might ask Anna to build her some extra furniture since at least
she
was going to have a lot of spare time in the coming weeks. She smiled tiredly with the thought. While Anna might have confessed she could do things like that, Tiffany just couldn’t picture the petite maid sawing boards and swinging hammers. But then she couldn’t really picture herself cooking, either.

This corner bedroom at the back of the house was directly over the kitchen. She’d selected it because it had three windows, which would let in more breeze if needed. She stood at one of the two windows that faced east. It was so dark outside she could hardly see anything, except the moon and the stars. How different from the nighttime view she was used to from
her bedroom at home. There she could see streetlamps, elegant town houses, large coaches plodding down the street, even late at night. Here she saw a few flickering lights from the bunkhouse and more stars than she’d ever seen in her life. And heard an animal howling in the distance. A dog? Surely not a wolf.

At least she was satisfied that the house, while not spotless, was clean enough to live in. She was grateful to the cowhands. Now she could walk down the hall without sneezing. They’d done as she’d asked and in only a few hours. While they’d complained when they’d started cleaning the house, they’d actually looked worried about having done it right while she inspected the rooms.

One of them even surprised her. Slim, the cowboy with the exceptionally long mustache, had rushed into the main room carrying a jar of wildflowers. She’d been inspecting the furniture, running her fingers along the backs of the chairs and the dining table, when he’d handed her the flowers, saying, “My ma liked flowers in the house. Didn’t see any here, not even dried-up dead ones.”

She’d been so touched her eyes got a little misty. But she definitely got a little carried away with her role when she promised that the first cake she made would be for them. The cowboys were thrilled, hooting and calling out their favorite kinds of cake. She’d groaned over her impulsiveness, remembering that she had to learn how to cook first!

She still didn’t know how she was going to do that, but after eating Jakes’s stew that night, which Hunter had brought to the house as promised, it became her third goal, along with ending the feud and going home. The stew had been tasteless, the bread stale. At least the butter hadn’t been rancid. But then she’d had to wash dishes again!

Hunter actually came in to help her this time. She wished he hadn’t. Standing close to him at the sink was worse than standing near Degan, though she wasn’t sure why and was too tired to give it much thought.

“You look a little overwhelmed,” he said by way of explanation for his help.

What a polite way to say she looked as exhausted as she felt! She agreed, “It was more than I expected, when I accepted the job.”

“Did I mention this is my favorite room in the house?” She gave him a sharp, skeptical look. He chuckled. “Let me rephrase that. It’s
now
my favorite room. You do brighten up the place, Red, you surely do. I have a feeling you’re going to find me underfoot—a lot.”

Was he flirting with her
again
, or just being friendly? It was hard to tell with a man who laughed as much as he did. “Then you can hope I don’t step on you too hard.”

He’d grinned at that rejoinder. She was too exhausted to care. She wasn’t just tired when she got upstairs, she ached from doing things she’d never before done. She would have liked to just drop into the bed, but she still had to write to her mother, and it was going to be a difficult letter to write.

Tiffany knew if Rose were there, she would never have allowed Tiffany to undertake this deception. Yet Tiffany still felt she needed her mother’s permission—after the fact. Not for a moment did she consider lying to Rose, though she might leave out the part about Zachary’s insisting she cook, simply because she knew her mother would be indignant about it on her behalf.

She would probably have cried if her stationery hadn’t been in her only surviving trunk, but it was. She was too tired to
unpack, but a quick rummage through her trunk indicated that she’d lost all but one of her evening gowns, many of her dresses, and all of her nightgowns, which meant she’d have to sleep in her drawers and camisole. But she still had her jewelry box, not that she could wear any of her expensive jewels in her new guise. But she allowed herself a tired smirk that the most valuable trunk on that train hadn’t become a prize for the outlaws, probably because the robber who’d emptied most of the baggage car was saving the heaviest baggage for last, then ran out of time.

With no desk or even a vanity surface to write on, she had to write on the top of her stationery box while sitting on the bed.

Dear Mama
,
I miss you so much! I just heard a wolf howling outside my window. Someone told me about a grizzly bear that scared a young man so bad it turned his hair gray. Wild animals, Mama—I’m finding out firsthand that Montana isn’t as civilized as you told me it was. I feel so frightened and out of place, but I know you’re worried about that telegram I sent, so let me explain
.
It was so unexpected! There I was, so nervous about meeting my father that I almost didn’t get off the train, and who should show up but two members of the very family you want me to marry into. They mistook me for the housekeeper their father hired, who did happen to be on my train. But the West overwhelmed her, too. She’d already done what I wanted to do, go back home. I didn’t. I’m not forgetting my promise. But the opportunity that the Callahans presented me with was just too intriguing to ignore. They hired me to be
their
housekeeper. They don’t know who I really am. And don’t laugh, despite how amusing you might find their mistake to be, but I think this presents an ideal situation, however unconventional, for me to get to know my fiancé, the
real
Hunter Callahan, not some artificial, cleaned-up version of himself that he’d pretend to be when he courts me at my father’s house. It was your idea for me to give him a chance. But how can I if I don’t trust him to be honest and forthcoming about what he thinks about this marriage? Here, in his house, I can find out what he’s really like and what
his
real feelings are. And by the way, you were right. He did turn out quite handsome and he appears to be good-natured, too
.

And annoying. And too quick to jump to conclusions, but she didn’t add that. If her mother thought she might like him, then she’d be much more amenable to Tiffany’s staying right where she was for a while.

I’m not asking to stay here the whole two months, Mama, just long enough to form an opinion of my fiancé. I don’t know how long that will take, but I don’t feel I’m ready to meet my father yet, anyway. He’s waited fifteen years to meet me, so a few more weeks won’t make a difference to him. But it will to me. I promise I won’t keep up the charade too long, not when I’m dying to see my brothers again. But this will give me a chance to get to know these people and acclimate myself to Montana as well, before I have to deal with meeting my father for the first time. And you already know how I feel about that. It was too much all at once—this frightening place, a fiancé I don’t know, a father I don’t know. Let me get through half of that at my own pace. I know what I’m doing. So please find an excuse to delay my arrival a little longer. Be vague. And, so I don’t starve in the meantime, would you please send me a few cookbooks that I can give to the Callahans’ cook? Yes, I’m exaggerating about starving, but not about needing the books. He’s a trail cook. I’m sure you can imagine how unappetizing his meals are
.

Love
,

Tiffany

Satisfied that she’d stated all the pertinent reasons in making her case, Tiffany knew she was still going to be anxious until she heard back from her mother. The trouble was, if her mother was really against what she’d decided to do, Rose might just come to Nashart, despite her own obscure reasons for not wanting to, and drag Tiffany out of there—and straight to Franklin. Or worse, she’d simply telegraph Frank where to find her. But she was too tired to worry about that tonight. Too tired to undress, too. With her letter ready to go, she simply lay back on the bed and was asleep within minutes.

Chapter Sixteen

T
IFFANY WOKE UP TO
the sound of a cock crowing and sunshine streaming in through the bedroom windows. She felt refreshed and rested. After washing, she unpacked the few dresses she had left, her riding habit, which she doubted she’d have enough leisure time to use, all her shoes and boots, and plenty of parasols. She was relieved to find her underwear, which was made of the softest spun silk and likely irreplaceable in Nashart. She donned a pale-blue walking dress, which, thankfully, had a tailored jacket that covered up the gaps in the dress’s back that she couldn’t button up herself. The jacket flared and ended just above the bustle, which had come back into fashion recently, though not in a style as pronounced as it had once been.

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