Winds of Paradise (Paradise Valley Book 2) Read online

  “You’ve got a natural talent, then.” Dan grinned at him.

  “Thank ya. Do ya keep in touch with yer folks?”

  Dan nodded. “I write whenever I can. Pa’s a physician at a hospital, and Ma likes to be involved in charities and such. They’re unhappy to have me so far away, so I try to write a lot. I’m thinking of visiting them sometime soon. Things are pretty settled here now and it wouldn’t do any harm for me to take a bit of time off.”

  “You should do that.” Dusty swatted a gnat away from his face. “I’m sure they’d love to see ya.”

  They arrived at the meeting place, and Dusty could see a dozen townsfolk, men and women, settled on the ground in the shade of several large ponderosa pines. “Mornin’, all!” he cried, waving his hat in the air. He was greeted with a chorus of “good mornings” and “hellos” as he and the other ranch hands climbed down to shake hands and exclaim over the perfect weather.

  Just as he shook hands with Jason Richards, the local blacksmith, he noticed Jane standing off to the side of the group. She wore a split skirt and a wide-brimmed hat that corralled her blonde hair away from her pretty face. He strode over, his head spinning with questions. “What are you doin’ here?”

  She met his gaze with a look of defiance. “I’m here to hunt, like everyone else. Evelyn Richards invited me.”

  “Jason’s sister?” His brow furrowed.

  “I hope that’s all right with you.” Her eyes snapped.

  “Of course – I’m just surprised is all. Happy to see ya, though.” He lifted a hand to graze the side of her face, but she seemed to flinch beneath his touch. He pulled his hand back and clenched it at his side.

  “Miss Wilder, is it?” Dan strode toward them. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

  Dan held out his hand and Jane took it. “Yes, I’m Jane Wilder.”

  “Dan Graham, foreman at Paradise Ranch. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He slipped off his hat and bent to kiss the back of her hand. Dusty frowned.

  Jane’s cheeks flushed pink and she stammered, “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Graham.”

  “Come, let’s see if we can find some spoor down by the water’s edge with the others. Maybe we’ll beat them all to it and land the biggest buck of the group.” Dan tucked Jane’s hand into the crook of his arm and the two of them set off along the creek bank, following the rest of the hunting party. He turned to wink over his shoulder at Dusty, whose face felt as though it was about to burst into flames. His eyes narrowed and he hurried after them.

  ***

  Jane was confused. Ever since Dusty arrived, he’d been quiet and morose. First he’d demanded to know why she was with the group waiting by the creek bank, as if she didn’t have a right to go hunting with her friends if she wished. Then he’d hung back while Dan escorted her along the bank. When they returned to the horses to follow the trail of a herd of deer, he barely said a word to anyone. Now he rode silently near the front of the group, throwing her the occasional backward glance with thunderous eyes.

  She felt as though her heart was breaking into small pieces. He didn’t care for her the way she’d thought he did. She didn’t know what kind of game he’d been playing, but it seemed he’d decided against her and she couldn’t think why. What had she done to make him pull away so suddenly?

  Her only comfort was that she’d known the day would come. She’d been certain he would break her heart, and today he was. At least she’d discovered his true feelings for her before they were engaged. And thank goodness for Dan Graham – he’d been so attentive to her since he’d arrived, as though he sensed her sadness. He recounted funny stories to make her laugh and whistled happy tunes to lift her spirits. He was a true gentleman. Every time she saw Dusty’s stiff back on the trail ahead of them, she appreciated anew Dan’s concern for her.

  If Dusty was disinterested, then she could simply enjoy Dan’s company. Dusty might not want her for himself any longer, but she was certain she could make him sorry for it.

  ***

  Dusty grew more and more angry with every passing moment. Every time he looked back to see where Jane was, Dan was at her side. He had her laughing until her high-pitched giggles had surely scared off every buck within ten miles. He whistled tunes for her to guess and helped her with clues until she picked the right one. He took her hand to dismount when they stopped to rest, and helped her back into the saddle when they continued on.

  He had to breathe deeply to keep himself from exploding with the unfairness of it. She was out of his reach – he’d known that from the start. He’d told himself over and over that she’d never marry a cowboy like him. Dan was a charming, well-spoken, educated foreman, her match in every way that Dusty wasn’t. They had so much more in common than he ever would with her.

  He sighed loudly and bent low on Rebel’s neck to follow a trail of deer spoor he’d just spotted. He might be the best tracker in the group, probably the best shot too. But what did any of it matter when he didn’t have what it took to win the heart of the one woman he loved?

  A buck crashed through the woods ahead of them and Dusty pulled Rebel to a halt. He lifted his rifle, cocked it and took aim. “Mine!” he cried and squeezed the trigger.

  As the discharge reverberated through the hollow, the buck fell to the ground. The hunting party hooted in celebration and rode hard to where the animal lay. As he watched them, the echo of thundering hooves behind him caught his attention, and he turned to discover the cause. Jane’s horse, frightened by the noise of the hunt, had veered off course and was careening through the undergrowth, throwing Jane dangerously about as it went. The rest of the hunting party, preoccupied with Dusty’s kill, hadn’t yet noticed her predicament.

  Dusty pushed his rifle back into its scabbard, and dashed after her with a shout. Her horse refused to mind, and he watched as she pulled hard on the reins — the effort only seeming to further incense the creature. He pushed Rebel forward, and soon the two horses raced neck and neck. After ducking around a large hemlock, he was almost unseated by a low hanging branch, only just managing to duck under it at the last moment. Then he reached out and grabbed hold of her reins, pulling the animal up short with a cry of “Whoa!”.

  Jane’s eyes were wide with fright, and he saw her hands were shaking where they clenched the animal’s mane.

  “Ya hurt?” he asked, tipping his hat back with one finger and studying her pale face.

  She swallowed, and then shook her head — relief swamping her delicate features. “Thank you, Dusty. I don’t know what set the poor thing off, but it seems ill suited to hunting.”

  Dusty felt anger rise like bile in his throat at the idea that Jane might have been injured. “Whose nag of a horse is this, anyway?”

  “I borrowed her from Mr. Richards.” Her voice broke as she spoke the words, and he felt a dagger of jealousy ram through him.

  “You and Jason seem awful close all of a sudden.”

  Her eyes became shadowed with pain at the vehemency of his retort, and as he watched they began to shimmer with unshed tears. His anger dissipated. He let go of the breath he’d been holding in. Jane was a grown woman. If she preferred Jason or Dan to him, there was nothing he could do about it. But he’d be dadgummed if he’d stand around like a motherless goat and watch it happen. Without another word, he spun Rebel around and headed for home.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The following Friday night found Jane folding newly washed undergarments neatly and laying them in her drawer. It was all over. Dusty didn’t even have the decency to end things in person. He’d just ridden off the previous Saturday without a word, leaving the hunting party to wonder what had become of him. Leaving her, still shaken by her near-miss, wordless at his insensitivity and confused by his anger.

  She stamped her foot in consternation. Confound the man! He’d ridden into her life and her heart, then right back out again without so much as a “pardon me.” That she’d known it would happen didn’t make it hurt any less.r />
  She blew out the lantern and climbed beneath her bedcovers with a shiver. The autumn nights had grown frigid and the small fireplace didn’t warm the place entirely. Thank goodness Dusty had chinked the walls and floorboards, or the wind would have whistled in and turned her to ice while she slept. She shivered again and pressed her stockinged feet against the hot brick she’d tucked under the bedclothes. Before long, warmth trickled through her body, and filled the bedclothes.

  After a full week of teaching, she was tired. Her eyes closed quickly and she fell asleep dreaming of riding horseback over golden plains.

  When she next woke, the room was completely dark. The fire had almost gone out, only a faint glow of cinders in the stove to show where it had been. Stiff with cold, she slipped from bed and lit the candle she kept by the bedside for when she needed the chamber pot or to stoke the fire. She hurried to add more firewood from the pile beside the stove, grabbed the poker with another great shiver and prodded at the embers.

  In no time, the flames leaped up with a crack and flutter and Jane closed the stove door to return to bed. She placed the candle on her bedside table beside her open copy of Shakespeare’s sonnets and nestled back beneath the covers with a sigh. It wasn’t long before the shivering subsided and she slipped again into a deep slumber.

  ***

  Dusty galloped along the trail to town. He’d felt bad all week about how he’d left things with Jane. He shouldn’t have ridden off like he did – he’d just been so angry and hurt, seeing her with Dan and knowing he could never be that man for her.

  The sun was beginning to rise over the town up ahead, sending shafts of golden light to glimmer on the frost-bitten earth. Winter wasn’t far away, and he found himself looking forward to being shut in at the ranch. No more heartbreak for him. He wouldn’t see any outsiders for a long time, and that was just fine and dandy with him.

  He hoped Jane would agree to speak with him before then, though. He didn’t blame her if she wouldn’t after the way he’d acted. He shook his head at the memory of his cowardice. Well, no more – he would see her now and talk things through, finally. He was ready to hear her out, whatever she had to say.

  Maybe he’d even propose and see what she thought of the idea. He’d thought it through and felt there was nothing to lose by asking her to marry him. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t shake his feelings for her, and he wouldn’t be able to until he knew once and for all how she felt about him. He didn’t want things between them to end, though they probably already had. At least he’d give her the chance to say no, make a clean break of it.

  The smoke drifting from the schoolhouse chimney darkened the sunrise ahead of him. But … it seemed like an awful lot of smoke for the small chimney in Jane’s room. It wasn’t so much a spiral as great gusts of it – some gray, some black …

  Dusty gasped, and spurred Rebel into a gallop, his heart plummeting. That wasn’t chimney smoke, he instinctively knew. The schoolhouse was on fire!

  ***

  Jane woke with a cough. It felt as though something heavy had landed on her chest, weighing her down. She tried to draw a breath, but the air didn’t satisfy the screaming need of her lungs. She hacked again, and the air she sucked in made her cough more. What was it? Her eyes felt sealed shut, but when she pried them open, she still couldn’t see.

  Oh no! The entire room was filled with choking black smoke. Her arm hurt, and she reached to feel the side of it, only to singe her fingers. She slapped it hard, putting out the flames licking at her nightgown. She had to get out of there – but which way? The flames weren’t high yet, but there was so much smoke it was hard to see anything at all.

  She leaped from the bed and pulled the quilt over her head to cover her mouth and keep her hair from catching alight. The fire beside the bed jumped onto it, sending the linens and the straw tick up in flame within moments. It flickered and crackled now, growing taller with each passing moment.

  She stumbled across the room and hit her shin against the stove, sending her sprawling onto the floor. It was easier to breathe down low, and she stayed there a moment, trying to gather her bearings. The door was a long way off, but there was a window just to her left, she remembered. Perhaps she could crack it to give her a few gulps of fresh air before she made a run for the door – or smash it with something hard and throw herself out of it.

  She drew and held a deep breath, and then with a lunge, she reached for the window, fidgeting with the edges of it to see if she could pry it open. No such luck. She patted her hand around the floor nearby, still holding her breath, looking for something heavy. She felt a chair leg beside her hand, and picked up the chair. Her lungs were crying out for air as she brought it down hard on the window, sending shards of glass flying in every direction. Again and again she hit it, working out a larger hole in the hopes she’d be able to fit her head through.

  Finally, the rest of the window came crashing down around her and fell on the floor and the ground outside the building. She stuck her head through the opening, and gasped in great gulps of fresh air. The coolness of the morning felt heavenly against her face, and she closed her eyes for a moment, as she heaved and sobbed to fill her chest.

  A shout made her eyes flick open, as great gusts of smoke billowed around her and out the small opening. There was no way she’d fit through this window. The fresh air had revived her, but it seemed also to have spurred on the fire. She ducked her head back inside for a moment, and realized the flames were about to engulf her. She’d have to hurry. She returned for one last deep breath of fresh air, then made a run for it.

  Something tripped her up again, and she fell with a great thud and a cry on the floor. She scrambled forward, her knees scratched by the floor boards. Then, two strong hands gripped beneath her arms, pulled her up and lifted her onto a sturdy shoulder. She held on tightly to the back of the man’s shirt with both hands, and closed her eyes as he ran back out through the door and into the yard.

  He lay her down gently on the grass, and she opened her eyes to see a denim-clad knee land on the ground next to her. Above it, Dusty stared down at her, concerned. “Jane, are ya all right?” he cried, setting his hat on the grass beside her.

  She nodded and tried to speak, but could only cough. He smiled and picked her up in his arms once more. She looped her arm behind his neck and held on tightly. She watched his face while he studied the ground ahead, carrying her a safe distance from the fire. Finally he set her down again and they watched together, Jane grief stricken, as the flames licked up the walls of the schoolhouse, clawing at the roof with long spindly fingers.

  They both knew there was little they could do. Within minutes, they were surrounded by a small crowd of folks who filled buckets at nearby water pumps as fast as they could to keep it from spreading. Everyone took turns hefting water onto the crackling flames, but too late to save the building. Their only goal now was to make sure the fire didn’t claim anything else.

  Sheriff Stanton and his deputies arrived soon, but just stood at a distance in silence to watch the blaze burn itself out along with the rest of the crowd who had given up their efforts to quench it. The sheriff sidled over to where Jane sat, her face streaked with soot and tears, her disheveled blonde hair loose around her shoulders. “Miss Wilder?” he asked as he bent on one knee beside her and removed his hat. “I’m glad to see ya safe. Was anyone else inside?”

  She shook her head and buried her face in her hands.

  “I’m sorry for yer loss,” he said. “Do ya know what might’ve caused it?”

  “Candle … I forgot to snuff it,” she said between coughs. “I was so tired and it was so cold … I forgot.”

  Dusty nodded. “Sheriff, good to see ya, though not under the best of circumstances.”

  “That’s for sure.” The sheriff got to his feet, shoved his ten-gallon hat onto his head and rubbed his long mustache with his fingertips. “Sorry again, ma’am. Let me know if there’s anythin’ ya need.” With a nod, he wander
ed off. Dusty pulled Jane close and took her hand in his. They sat that way, silently, until the fire died to smoldering ashes and everyone else went home.

  She looked at Dusty, his face and beard dotted with soot. He’d saved her. She’d given up on him, but he hadn’t given up on her. Her throat was raw, so instead of speaking, she simply leaned against his side. He slipped his arm around her and held her close.

  Jane knew then that she’d rather be by his side than anywhere else on God’s green Earth. She only hoped that was what he wanted as well.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jane sighed deeply and dragged herself from bed, then sat on the edge in silence. She brushed her unruly hair back from her face and grimaced. It had taken her a moment to remember where she was – at the Langstons’ parsonage. Once she realized that, all the memories of the schoolhouse burning to the ground, with everything she owned in the world inside, came flooding back.

  She sighed again and stood. It was Sunday, and she should dress for church – if she could. Last night before she went to bed, she’d heard Mrs. Langston tell the Reverend that she was going to wash the soot from Jane’s night clothes. Not that it mattered; she wouldn’t be able to wear those to the service. Borrowing a dress from Mrs. Langston wasn’t an option – the pastor’s wife had lent her a nightgown, but it fit her like a tent.

  She cracked the bedroom door open, poking her head out to look around. She didn’t see or hear the Langstons anywhere, but she knew they often went to the church early on Sunday mornings so the Reverend could prepare for the service and Mrs. Langston could lead the small choir in a rehearsal of the hymns for that day. That must be where they were.

  She tiptoed out, listening intently for any sound of movement that might send her scurrying back to her room. The last thing she wanted was for the poor Reverend to be confronted with the sight of her in his wife’s night clothes. But there was no one in the living room, or the kitchen. A note on the kitchen table captured her attention: