Loving a Rebel, page 2
part #1 of Glory, Montana Series
She hoped the snow had convinced him to head for shelter and forget about her.
But stuck here overnight? No need to wonder what Ma and Pa would say about that.
Flora clenched her teeth. She grabbed the stack of dirty dishes Kade had piled in front of him and carried them to the cupboard. “Thank you for the meal. I’ll wash the dishes.”
“Glad I could feed you, but no need to worry about the dishes. I can do them. After all, you’re a guest in my house.”
She kept her back to him but didn’t need to see his face to note the emphasis on the word guest. Did he think she was too foolish to even do her share? Despite his opinion of her, she had been raised right. She found the dishpan and poured in hot water. He tried to elbow her aside, but she refused to budge. “I can do my share.”
“Fine, I’ll dry.” He grabbed a towel from the bar behind the stove and took the first plate as she handed it to him.
The air between them was so frigid, it might have followed them inside.
Something he said nagged at her thoughts. She knew if she had a lick of common sense, she would ignore it, but seeing as he thought she didn’t have any, she would ask the question.
“You said you’ve heard the phrase before, don’t blame me. The way you said it made me think…” What could she say that didn’t sound rude? “Well, like you didn’t care for the outcome.”
“I didn’t.”
“What happened?” She felt his stiff silence between them. “Never mind. It’s of no concern to me.” It wasn’t like she cared to learn about him.
“Let me just say that on more than one occasion I suffered the consequences of someone taking that stance.”
“I’m guessing it must have been someone close to you.”
“You could say that.”
She waited. And waited.
He dried a plate and put it on the shelf above them and then finally spoke. “Seems to me a person should consider how their choices affect not only themselves but how they impact others.”
Her short laugh was half amusement, half mockery. “You and my sister Eve would make a good pair. She’s always concerned about doing the right thing and not offending anyone.” Her voice grew heated. “How can a person enjoy life if they are striving to please everyone they see? Seems to me people should be living their lives and letting others live theirs. I don’t do anything to purposely hurt anyone, but how can a person please everyone? Shouldn’t we seek to please God and not man?”
A beat of silence, heavy with her anger and frustration.
He slowly wiped the forks and put them in the tray on the shelf. “I met Eve. She seems steady.”
“Steady? Yes, she is, but what a dull word. But don’t misunderstand. I love her. She’s my sister three times over. I just don’t want to be pushed and pulled into what others think I should be.”
Kade leaned his hip against the cupboard and stared at Flora. “How can she be your sister three times over?”
Flora chuckled. At least she’d earned a spark of interest from him. She had begun to think he was so stiff and upright he had no interest in anything but rules. “First, we were born sisters. Then we were adopted by the Kinsleys. And third, we are sisters in our belief in Jesus as our Savior.”
He studied her. She studied him right back. His hair was the color of mink fur and a tad longish. His eyes were the color of rich soil, carrying the warmth of spring and the promise of good things to come.
She mocked her assessment of him. As Eve would say, she had a wild and vivid imagination.
“So you’re adopted?”
“All the Kinsley sisters are.”
“All four of you? That sounds like quite a handful.”
“Actually, there are six of us sisters. Two stayed back in Verdun, Ohio. Adele is married. Happily, I hope.” She had her doubts as to whether or not that was the case but kept her opinion to herself. “She has a little boy. And Tilly is working for a rich family. I think she hopes the son of the family will marry her.”
“Marrying well and wisely is important.”
She couldn’t tell if it was a question or statement and chose to ignore it either way, being quite certain her opinion of what constituted a good marriage would differ vastly from his. If she ever married, it would be to someone who wouldn’t try to control her.
He dried the last dish and hung the towel. “I thought you’d have something to say about that.”
“No doubt you did.” She turned to study the room. “You build this place yourself?”
“Yup. Last year.”
“Nice.” She wandered from the kitchen area to what she supposed would be the sitting area though it was really one small room. There was a soft chair beside a low bookcase with a Bible sitting on top of the bookshelf. She pointed to the Bible. “Looks new.”
“I bought it for my house.”
“May I look at it?”
“Of course.” He remained in the kitchen area, leaning against the cupboard, his arms crossed.
She studied him a moment. He seemed so distant. So controlled. She dismissed the thoughts and lifted the Good Book, opening it at the flyleaf. She read aloud, “‘This Bible belongs to Kade Thomas and will always have a place of honor in his home.’ Hmm. Nice words. Sounds like something Pa would say. And certainly approve of.” She returned the book to its place. “Of course, he would add that it needs a place of honor in our hearts.”
Kade chuckled, a dry sound as if it wasn’t used often enough. “Never thought to hear Flora Kinsley preaching.”
His words stung, full of judgment as they were, but she pretended to take no note of them. “Not preaching. Just speaking the truth.” For some reason, she felt compelled to add, “Doing things for show is pointless.”
He straightened and crossed to look out the window. “I suppose that depends on what you are specifically referring to.”
“Guess so.” Having no desire to continue this line of conversation, she studied the piece of old wood next to the Bible. “That’s an odd decoration.” It was obviously from something broken. It was weathered grey with sharp edges sticking out.
“It’s a reminder.”
She shuddered. “Doesn’t look like something one would want to be reminded of.”
“It’s from the wagon that overturned and killed my father.”
Her heart clenched. “I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.”
She studied him. “Look at that. We have something in common. I lost my pa when I was a baby.”
“I was thirteen.”
“That makes it even harder. At least I don’t have the memory of losing my pa.”
“But you also don’t have any good memories of him.”
“I know.” She turned back to the bookcase lest he guess that tears stung her eyes. “I remember my ma a bit.” She shrugged. “I was only four when she passed, so I think mostly what I remember is what Eve tells me. I don’t like to think about the past.”
“Why not? Seems the past has lots to teach us.”
She fingered the dry and cracked leather reins hanging above the bookshelf. “Seems to me it mostly teaches us to live each day to the fullest because we don’t know when life will be snatched away.”
Kade crossed to the room and slipped the old reins from her hand and pressed them to the wall. “I believe the past teaches us to live wisely so life isn’t needlessly snatched away.”
“Why do you have old reins hanging here? Shouldn’t they be in the barn? Seems odd for someone like you to let these dry out and disintegrate.”
“They’re a reminder.”
“Another one. Were these reins on the horse that pulled the wagon that carried your pa?”
“No. They were on the horse that fell to its death in a ravine and took my brother with him.”
Flora jerked her hand away from the bits of leather. “He died?” She couldn’t keep the shock from her voice.
“Yes, he did. Needlessly, I might add.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask how that could be.”
Kade stared at the wall, or more precisely, the reins hanging there. “Esau—that was my brother— entered a crazy race. They had to race across a desert and jump a canyon. The winner got a hundred dollars. I tried to talk Esau out of it. I knew it was dangerous, but he said the money would go a long way toward buying the ranch we had set out hearts on. He didn’t make it. His horse missed the far bank of the ravine and both plunged to their death.”
Thanks to Flora’s vivid imagination, she pictured it all in living color. Felt the shock Kade’s brother would experience as he realized he was falling to his death. Saw the battered bodies of the man and horse and felt the horror Kade must have experienced. For a moment her voice wouldn’t work. She sniffed. “Kade, that’s dreadful.” The words quivered from her mouth.
“People shouldn’t do foolish things.” He jerked about and returned to the window.
Flora stared at the broken piece of wood. She could not look at the reins. She moved her fingers along the bookcase, touching the objects on top—an unlit lamp that he would use for reading, a small mantel clock, the ticking filling the silence of the room. She sank to the soft chair and studied the row of books. Something peeked out of one book. A lacy hankie. She smiled as she pulled it out. “Seems you have a lady friend.”
He shook his head.
“It belongs to your mother?”
“Ma died when I was eight. I have nothing of hers. No, it belonged to a girl I meant to marry.”
“Meant to.” She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear his story, but she couldn’t let it hang unfinished between them. “She died?”
“Nope. Ran off with someone else.”
Flora put the hankie back and stared at the floor. “No wonder you’re so morose. Your life has been full of awfulness.”
“But don’t you see? It wouldn’t be if people had only made wise choices.”
Again, she felt his judgement. As if she was personally to blame for the life that had befallen him. “Bad things happen to those who live careful, narrow lives too.” She turned back to the display to her left. Mementos of loss. And the Bible beside them. Somehow it didn’t fit. “Why do you want to cling to the past when life beckons to be enjoyed today?”
“I’m not ‘clinging,’ as you call it. But I don’t intend to forget the folly of not considering the consequences of one’s choices.”
She tired of going around in circles on the subject and went to the window where she rubbed at the glass. “It’s dark out.” The wind battered the house. Something heavy hit a wall. Her heart slammed into her ribs. She went to her coat where it hung next to the door and yanked her gun out of the pocket.
Had that man followed her here? If so, he’d discover that being female did not make her easy prey.
A burst of laughter escaped Kade’s mouth, catching him by surprise as he watched the redhead aim her gun at the door. He decided not to point out that she hadn’t cocked it, so no one was in danger. “You planning on shooting the wind?” he drawled.
She kept her gaze on the door. “Might be more than the wind. You ever think of that?”
He edged closer, studying the way her eyes darkened and narrowed, noting how her lips pressed together hard. “What are you so afraid of?”
“Who says I’m afraid?”
“Maybe the way your hand shakes. I suggest you put your gun aside before someone gets hurt.”
She hesitated then lowered her arm. “Thought I heard something,” she mumbled.
“The wind, maybe?”
“Something hit the side of the house. You must have heard it.”
He continued to watch her. “You expecting someone?”
She pursed her lips. “Are you suggesting I arranged a rendezvous out here?”
“Did you?”
“Mr. Thomas, I don’t even know where here is.”
The truth of what she said hit him. “You were truly lost?” He’d thought she might have been exaggerating.
Her silence was answer enough.
“You…” He tried to piece together the bits he knew of her predicament. Lost. A lame horse who looked to have been ridden hard. Out late in the afternoon. He understood that she didn’t like to worry her parents, so why was she out so late? “Why weren’t you watching the weather? Why weren’t you paying heed to where you were?”
“I was. I’m not stupid.”
Not stupid but—
She interrupted his thoughts. “Nor am I foolish.”
“Then explain to me how you got lost.”
She returned the gun to her coat pocket and jammed her fists to her hips as she faced him, all angry and fierce looking. “If you must know, I thought someone was following me and despite what you think, I did not want to have him catch up to me, so I rode hard. I circled back to see if he would follow my tracks, and he did. Then I led him on a wild chase. I must have outsmarted him, because I lost him.”
“And in the process, you got lost too.”
“I’d have found my way home if it hadn’t started to snow. You can’t blame me for that.”
He considered her at length. So much like his pa and Esau. And maybe even a little bit like Pearl— taking risks with no concern for those who might be worried or worse…hurt by the consequences. Then, as if to prove him wrong on the last assessment, she moved to the window and rubbed a spot to peer through.
“Ma and Pa will be so worried.”
He could not pretend he didn’t hear the tightness in her voice. “They’ll be relieved to learn you are safe and sound, not frozen stiff in the storm.”
She grinned at him. “I guess that’s one way of looking at it.” Her amusement fled as she studied the interior of the house. “They aren’t going to be pleased to learn where I’m being forced to stay.”
“Forced.” He barely stopped himself from stuttering. “I’m kind enough to offer you shelter.”
Her blue eyes bored into him. “I think you know what I mean.”
He couldn’t deny it. “That’s what comes of taking unnecessary risks.” He kept repeating the words. They had become his protection and motto though he guessed they were wasted on his guest.
“You know Pa will insist you marry me.” She looked thoughtful. “Of course, he doesn’t have to know. I can return home and simply tell him I found shelter.”
“I expect he’ll want to know a bit more than that. Are you going to lie?”
“Maybe I just won’t provide all the details. It wouldn’t be lying to say I found a settler’s shack and made myself at home.”
He shook his head. “Things have a way of coming out.”
“He won’t learn all the facts from me. Are you going to tell him?”
“Me?” The last thing he wanted was to have a wife. Especially a wild rebel like this woman. “I don’t want to get married.”
“Especially to me, if I’m not mistaken.”
Was he so obvious? “It’s not personal.”
She waved away his half apology. “At least we are agreed on that. I don’t want to get married either.”
He heard what she didn’t say—especially to someone like him.
“He’ll not learn from me where you’ve had to spend the night. But I won’t lie.” He glanced around the room. The reality of the situation slammed into him.
They were stuck here. They had to endure each other’s company. Were they going to stay awake all night? How were they going to pass the hours together without his annoyance growing to the point he might consider sleeping in the cold of the barn?
Chapter 3
“We might as well bed down,” Kade said.
Flora’s mouth dried. Her tongue turned to wood. Bed down? How could she spend the night? She pressed to the window. “I never meant to cause Ma and Pa worry,” she murmured to herself. A harmless ride. She’d done it many times, always making sure she returned home before her parents would grow concerned. Harmless fun, she’d said when Eve scolded her.
Thankfully, Kade didn’t remind her that her choices had led to this situation.
“It wasn’t my fault,” she said as if he had given his opinion. “It was because of that man following me.” Kade still said nothing.
But she heard his accusation as clearly as if he’d shouted it. Riding alone invited unwanted attention. Oh, wait. Those were Pa’s words.
She pressed her forehead to the cold window and shivered. This was not going to turn out well unless she could make her parents believe she had spent the night alone.
Kade finally spoke. “You take the bed. I’ll get my bedroll and sleep by the stove and keep the fire going.”
She looked at the skiff of snow blowing in under the door. Her gaze followed Kade to the bedroom. It didn’t even have a door. Just a wall between the kitchen cupboards and the cot.
He returned with a roll of bedding.
“You’re going to sleep on the floor?”
“I’ve slept on far worse.”
“Really? Like what?” She didn’t truly care but delayed having to make a decision about how she would spend the night. Could she stand at the window and stare out? Could she go to the barn and sleep with the horses? It would be cold. Worse, she would be alone should that man appear. She shivered at the idea.
He plunked his bedding to the floor and sat on top of it.
She stared at the grin on his face. Goodness, he looked almost happy. Almost nice.
“I grew up accompanying my father and brother back and forth on the Santa Fe Trail. I learned to build a campfire, cook over it, and sleep on the ground by the time I was eight years old.”
“The Santa Fe Trail.” She sat on the nearest kitchen chair. “That is so exciting. Tell me all about it.”
“Most days were monotonous. We hitched up and walked for the day. We stopped at noon for a quick meal. We stopped at dark for the evening meal. Even the food was monotonous. There were always chores to be done. It was hard work.”
