Longing for Julia, page 15
“It’s good of you to remain.” He’d never been so impressed by Julia’s eagerness to help. “And you, Clarissa. I can use your assistance. Thank you both.”
The women murmured a reply and got back to work. There wasn’t time to stand around and discuss it. Julia told her grandpa about her change in plans and asked him to take her report about the fire back with him to town on the supply train. He wasn’t happy about leaving her, but he knew more than most how stubborn she was.
Later that afternoon Ryan had a heavier task to perform. Feeling sick from the duty ahead, he carried a shovel down to the river.
“Commander, let me do that,” offered one of his men.
“Thank you, but I’d like to do it.”
“Here, at least let me help.”
They dug the grave in a pretty spot on the west bank. Sunshine would always touch the grassy rim at dawn, and the view to the west, of dramatic mountain peaks, was breathtaking.
There were nearly a hundred people gathered for the ceremony, heads bowed in silence, hats removed in the hot sun. The closest thing they had to a minister was Dewey Binch, who’d studied the ministry for a year before finding a wife and settling down to become a rancher instead. Ryan added a few words to Dewey’s, saying that he hadn’t known Luke for long, but that he was a dedicated Mountie and one of the most hardworking Ryan had had the pleasure of meeting. The congregation said the Lord’s Prayer. Half an hour later, the burial was over and the men returned to camp.
Ryan hadn’t had a chance to address Julia at the funeral, but he was always aware of her. It was comforting to see her at such a distressing time, to feel her presence in the medical car while they attended to the patients, to feel the fabric of her blouse swish against his arm in passing, to hear her quiet whispering with Clarissa.
The camp returned to digging trenches. This would be their third attempt to stop the fire, and Ryan prayed it would be their last.
Acres of woodland lined the Bow River, a funnel of fuel for the raging fire. To the east, the mountainous terrain changed to softly rolling foothills and flatter grasslands. Horse and cattle ranches sprawled on both sides of the river, although no herds were in sight. Ryan knew by instinct that the ranchers had corralled their animals out of the fire’s reach, likely north in the free-range pastures.
Ryan wasn’t quite sure where the fire would go if it jumped the firebreaks for the third time. It was difficult to guess whether it would die down on its own, speed through the woods along the river straight to Calgary, or ignite the prairie grassland.
Tilting his head to the sky, Ryan stared at the clouds. They were the first he’d seen in two weeks. Some seemed large enough to hold rain, but they were spread so far apart that it seemed unlikely resulting rainfall would stop a fire. Unfortunately, the wind was strong again today, which would once more stoke the flames. The best they could hope for was a shift in wind direction.
After dinner, the clouds grew bigger and closer together.
“Think it might rain?” the men asked each other.
“Hell, it just might.”
The atmosphere around camp, as they began to dig the second trench, was one of hope and anticipation.
At nightfall, with Julia’s assistance, Ryan settled the patients with morphine, inspected their wounds and repositioned their limbs for better circulation. Constables Collins and Williams would take over, allowing Ryan, Julia and Clarissa a period of rest. They would rotate at dawn.
Ryan resisted giving Travis any morphine for the light burn to his arm because it would depress his breathing, which would hinder his recovery. Drinking water and resting for several more days would likely work their magic. Fortunately, the burn itself would heal quickly since it wasn’t deep.
Julia remained quiet in Ryan’s presence. He had a hard time knowing what to say to her, other than please and thank you. Her main concern seemed to be for Holt’s comfort, which Ryan expected, but it made him wish she’d offer him one of her pleasant smiles or warmly touch his hand.
Soon it was time to retire for the evening. After bidding the ladies goodnight, Ryan went to his tent, and invited David inside to discuss their journal keeping. The tent was tall enough for him to stand, and large enough to hold two folding chairs along with a foldaway table. Ryan had tossed his bedroll and duffel bag in the far corner.
“This is good,” he said, reading over the details. “Please add to the list the number of men who arrived today to join the efforts. And where we laid Luke Nolan to rest.”
They spent another half hour going over the records. Ryan initialed the pages.
Before he left, David removed a newsprint sheet from his leather dossier. “I debated whether to give this to you. But seeing how hard you came down on Julia for the article that appeared in the paper, I thought you should have a look at it.”
“What is it?” Ryan held what appeared to be a faintly inked newspaper.
“The article about you that was originally slotted for the newspaper. Julia wrote it, but decided in the end that it was too harsh to print. I encouraged her not to change it, but she insisted it wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“Why are you giving it to me now?”
“Because I don’t know what went on when you lived in Alberta before, but whatever you did to her, I think she needs to hear an apology.”
“An apology? You have no idea what I’ve tried—”
“Try again.” David suddenly seemed to realize to whom he was speaking. “Sir. I think she needs to hear an apology from someone about something, sir. She’s not herself.”
Ryan creased the paper in his hands. “She’s got an awful lot of friends who care about her.”
“Yes, we do,” David said on his way out. “Yes, we do.”
Ryan took the paper, lowered himself onto his chair, brought the lantern forward to illuminate the ink, and read.
A crack of thunder roused Julia from the bed in Ryan’s command car. She hadn’t changed into nightclothes yet, simply closed her eyes for a moment from exhaustion. She must have fallen asleep on top of the blankets.
Disoriented, she heard another thunderclap and saw a vivid streak of lightning through the darkened windows.
With an exclamation of joy, she raced to the window to join Clarissa, who’d dragged herself out of bed, dressed in a cotton nightgown.
“Look at that,” her friend breathed in wonder.
Drops of water hit the roof of the railcar and dribbled down the side. The window was slightly open at the top, and Julia stretched her hand out to capture some.
Laughing, she brought it to her lips and sipped. “It tastes like honey.”
“Do you think this’ll stop the fire?” asked Clarissa, doing the same.
“We can only hope. The rain is coming down softly now, but maybe it’ll get stronger.”
“I love the sound,” said Clarissa. “Listen to how beautiful it is.”
A sudden crackle of rain hit the leaves around them, increasing the flow of water as it hit the ground. A steady hum of what sounded like icicles bounced off the tin roof. Silence beyond that. Total silence in the woods and grasslands, as if every living creature stood in awe of the rain.
Another boom of thunder had the women in laughter. Lightning flashed, casting a glow over the spiral of dark hair spilling down Clarissa’s back.
“I didn’t know whether to wake you so you could change,” said Clarissa. “You fell into such a deep sleep.”
Julia smiled, grabbed the old leather duster from the hook on the wall and headed for the door. “It’s all right. I’ll change when I get back.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’ve got to feel the rain on my skin.”
The tan leather coat, soft and warm almost beyond recognition, and presumably Ryan’s because it smelled like him, flapped against her body.
A swarm of men, the ones who’d been digging the second line of trenches, were crowded together, seeking the tiny bit of protection the train’s roof offered. One of them told her that the second trench was finished, and that Ryan had just ordered them to wait and see if the rain itself would be enough to soak the area. They’d already removed the dead branches and leaves from between the ditches.
So she’d just missed Ryan.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“One o’clock. Most of us are headin’ to bed now, and I suggest you do the same, miss.”
“I will in a moment, thank you,” she said, hurrying off to a secluded part of the riverbank. It was nestled between a canopy of several aspen trees, and from it she could watch the rain undisturbed.
She got there along a deserted little path, but there was already someone standing by the river’s edge. She recognized the wide brim of his Stetson, and the profile of his shoulders. Ryan.
Thunder boomed and seemed to roll straight down her spine to her toes.
She hadn’t counted on meeting him, certainly not alone, so she swiveled away to find another spot.
“Hello,” Ryan called to her softly. “Is something wrong? Do you need me in the medical car? Are the men—”
“They’re fine.” Bracing herself, Julia turned around. Gentle rain dampened her face. She could have turned away, or pulled the hood farther forward, but she loved the warm sensation of raindrops on her cheeks. “I came to hear the splash of rain on the river.”
“You’re getting soaked,” Ryan called. “You should go back and sleep while you can.”
“I suppose you should, too.”
Ryan pointed in the direction of another clump of trees to his left. “My tent’s close enough if I need to run for cover.”
Her gaze settled on the billowing gray fabric. The tent stood aloof from the train, but seemed somehow comforting, with the glow of yellow light coming from a lamp inside.
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping inside the train tonight, like most of the other men?” she asked. “The tent might collapse.”
“It’s safe. It’s rugged and made for times like these.”
“Then why aren’t you in it?”
Ryan laughed. The feel of rain dancing across their skin, after such a long drought, seemed to be making them both giddy. “I guess I wanted to enjoy Mother Nature, too.”
A bolt of lightning skimmed the river behind Ryan. There was danger in the air, and Julia knew it wouldn’t be wise to stay here long. The lightning illuminated Ryan’s height and massive body. He was wearing only his shirt and breeches, no oilskin cloak, no jacket. She wondered if he felt the chill of the night setting in.
Thunder cracked in the air, jolting her nerves and pushing her forward to join him at the river’s edge.
“We shouldn’t be out here,” she whispered in between booms.
“It’s lovely, though, isn’t it?”
She sighed and listened to the flowing water bubble around the stones close to her feet. She could barely see the rainfall, it was so light, and there was no moon to aid her vision. After a few moments, Ryan’s big hand and the square toe of his leather boot became clearer.
With trepidation, Julia turned around, trying to see past the tree trunks, but found only a wall of blackness. “It seems that everyone else has left the area.”
“Most of them were sleeping under the stars, so moved to the train for cover. There are a couple of tents down yonder. The cook and his assistants set up close to the river after supper, so they could catch some fish for breakfast tomorrow.”
“Do you think we have any hope, Ryan?” Julia sighed as she peered across the gurgling waters.
Ryan dipped a broad shoulder toward her. “What do you mean?”
“Do you think there’s hope the rain will stop the wildfire?”
There was a long moment of silence, as if there was something else on his mind, before he answered. “There’s always hope.”
“But it’s falling so softly.”
“It might be raining harder where the fire is.”
She hadn’t considered that, and it brightened her spirits. She peered in the general direction of the fire, but it was so far away that she saw no light, no sparks. However, the heavy smell of smoke hung in the air despite the rain.
A rumble of thunder seemed to shake the very ground they stood on, causing her to yelp. Then, realizing she was safe, she giggled.
“I like the sound of your laugh. You don’t do it often enough.”
Was that true? She thought about it for a minute. “Sometimes it’s difficult to see the humor in life, when things are so against you.”
“You used to laugh a lot. That’s what I remembered most about you when I was away.”
“You thought about me, when you were gone?”
“Often.”
Now there was an admission she was totally unprepared for. “I’d rather set the past aside and not look back.”
“We aren’t able to set the past aside, are we, Julia? Every time we look at each other, we recall how it was that night between us.”
“Ryan, please don’t—”
“Remember that night in the bar, Julia? Remember lying on my coat and allowing me to touch—”
“It turns out that night was never very important to—to either one of us.”
“It was important to me.”
She nearly wept when he said it. “How could I believe that, when you left the following day?”
“I can prove how much the night meant to me.”
“How? How could you possibly do that?”
“Because you’re wearing the coat,” he said softly.
Her hands flew to her shoulders. “What coat?”
“The one we made love on.”
She looked down but could barely see it in the darkness. The leather duster felt wrinkled and weathered, and the flannel inside was nearly worn to shreds. “You kept it.”
“Yeah.”
“All these years?”
“Yeah. I took it with me to Africa.”
“Why?”
“To remind me…to make me aspire to be something better than what I was.”
She was unable to speak. Her throat clamped shut and she had to struggle to comprehend what he was saying.
“I’m so sorry for the way I made you feel when I left,” he said. “It was wrong of me to walk out.”
Tears sprang to Julia’s eyes. “Thank you for saying that.” Bursting with emotions she’d held in check for many years, many nights, she turned to walk away.
Lightning streaked the sky as Ryan reached out to touch her hand. “I’ll walk you back.”
Moved by his presence and his touch, she didn’t have the will to shrug away his hand, but let it slide around hers. Their shared heat, beneath the drops of rain, connected them through all they’d suffered.
“Here,” Ryan whispered at the path’s junction, pulling her toward his tent rather than the train.
“What are you doing? I’m not going—”
“Come with me.”
“No.”
“I won’t force you, but I do ask that you please come inside the tent for a moment. I’ve got to speak to you and we’ll be out of the rain.”
“What do you wish to talk about?”
“The article you wrote about me.”
“You’ve already told me you disapprove of my mentioning the violin—”
“Not the one that was printed. The other one. The first one you wrote.”
“How did you get your hands on that?”
“David cares a lot about you.”
She dragged in a breath. “I’ll have his hide in the morning.”
“Don’t you think you owe me an explanation? Five minutes of your time?”
He was right. She softened her stance, and he took hold of her wrist again. Searing her skin with the heat of his fingers, Ryan led her toward the soft glow of his tent.
CHAPTER 14
He wouldn’t take advantage of her, Ryan promised himself. He wouldn’t take advantage of the beautiful woman with water dripping from her auburn hair, who was standing nervously in the hazy lamplight.
After Julia removed the wet coat and hung it on a hook by the entry, Ryan offered her one of his two chairs. With hesitation, she moved deeper inside the tent and sank onto the seat.
The soft flapping of the tent canvas stirred the air, but the chill was absent. Here inside, the lantern warmed the air to a comfortable temperature.
“You’re drenched,” said Julia. “You should change your shirt before you catch a cold.”
“Later.” He realized he wouldn’t be able to change without her watching, and he didn’t want to escalate the growing intimacy between them.
“That’s all this camp would need. A sick doctor.”
“Women,” Ryan said with exasperation. “Turn around and I’ll find a clean shirt.”
She did as she was told without a sound. Ryan fell to his knees and sorted through the clean clothes in his bag. He pulled out a soft blue cotton shirt, peeled off his wet one and replaced it.
It took less than two minutes. The sound of buttons unbuttoning mingled with the swishing of the rain.
The space felt suddenly hot and subdued.
Ryan was having second thoughts about this. If anyone should see Julia in here with him, the smear to her reputation might be insurmountable.
“You can turn around,” he said.
When she turned her head and shoulders back to face him, her gaze lingered on his clean shirt. He watched the pulse flicker at her creamy throat.
His long shadow intertwined with hers on one wall. “Our shadows are falling on the tent,” he said.
She frowned.
“It’s visible to anyone passing that there’s a woman in here—that you’re with me.”
“Oh, I see.” She rose to her feet, understanding the implications. “Well, I won’t stay, then.”
Ryan walked to the table and dipped his face close to the lantern. The flame warmed his cheeks and brow. He turned a knob to extinguish the flame.
Julia let out a soft gasp.
It was so dark inside that they both needed a few seconds to allow their eyes to adjust.
