Sunrise Ridge (Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance Book 3), Page 6

  “This may not be the smartest decision I’ve ever made, but I’m willing to hire you for a trial period. I lost my head teller and haven’t found a replacement. You have to be a quick learner—”

  “I am, Mr. Clausen.” Abby’s heart pounded so hard she could almost hear it.

  Clausen stifled a chuckle at her enthusiasm. “Yes, I’m certain you are, Miss Tolbert.” He returned to his chair, opened a drawer, and pulled out a piece of paper, sliding it across the desk. “This explains your duties. I pay once a week. When would you care to start?”

  Abby glanced up from the paper she held in shaky hands. “Tomorrow.”

  “Aren’t you going to ask about the pay?”

  Her eyes widened at the question. She been so focused on getting a job, she hadn’t thought of how much she would earn.

  “I suppose whatever you paid the last person will be sufficient.”

  Clausen cleared his throat, feeling his face blanch. His last teller had been a man who’d worked in a bank before traveling to Splendor. He wanted to be fair, although paying her the same was out of the question.

  “I’ll do what I can, but I assure you, it will be fair.” He stood, grabbing her money for the deposit. “Welcome to the Bank of Splendor, Miss Tolbert. I look forward to seeing you bright and early tomorrow.”

  Noah finished installing the door on the work shed he’d started before leaving on his search for Abby. With this task complete, he had no other excuses for his absence from town.

  A week had passed since leaving her at Suzanne’s and coming to his cabin—a long time for a man to be away from his businesses. He wiped his dirty sleeve across his forehead, glancing at the sun as it dropped behind the nearby mountain range. Various shades of yellow, orange, and pink danced across the sky as the last rays shot skyward. He never grew tired of the sight.

  Grabbing his empty coffee cup and rifle, he made his way into the cabin to eat the last of the stew warming on the wood stove.

  Gabe had ridden out the day before to check on him and offer help with the tool shed. At least that’s what he’d said. Noah suspected his visit had more to do with his friend letting him know Clausen had hired Abby. No one had yet seen Tolbert, although Gabe expected fireworks when the rancher heard the news.

  “You’ve seen her?” Noah asked, filling Gabe’s cup once more.

  “I did. Spoke to her when I had supper at Suzanne’s.”

  Noah waited for Gabe to continue, hoping he didn’t have to push him for more information.

  “She started yesterday.” Gabe sipped the coffee and shook his head. “She couldn’t contain her excitement and can’t wait to go back on Monday. Who would’ve thought a job in a bank would mean so much to a woman who doesn’t need the work.”

  Pride swelled within Noah. On more than one occasion, Abby had told him of her desire to use her skills in some fashion, and now she’d found the opportunity.

  “Your woman wouldn’t be home and working if you hadn’t gone after her.” Gabe finished his coffee and stood.

  “She’s not my woman,” Noah growled.

  “And whose fault is that? You’re gonna be one sorry son of a bitch if you let someone else step in and take her away.”

  Noah knew that, but he had no choice, not after learning she no longer cared for him.

  “She made it clear her feelings for me have changed. It’s best for both of us.” He tossed the last of his coffee out onto the dirt and shot a pained look at Gabe. “Don’t you have work back in town?”

  He didn’t respond before stepping off the porch, grabbing Blackheart’s reins, and swinging into the saddle. “You ever think she may have said that for your benefit?”

  Noah’s startled expression swung to Gabe. “What are you talking about?”

  “Think about it. You might come to a different conclusion.” Gabe settled his hat firmly on his head and left, leaving Noah to try to make sense of his words.

  While continuing work on the shed, Noah pondered Gabe’s parting comments, wondering what his friend had meant. In his mind, Abby had been clear, letting him know she no longer found him to be the man she wanted. The pain at her declaration had been intense, ripping through his heart, never letting up on their ride to Splendor or during his time at the cabin. He’d cut boards, pounded nails, and done everything he knew to purge himself of her, yet nothing worked. And Gabe’s words made it worse, stirring up hope where none existed.

  He scraped the last of the stew from the plate, shoveling it into his mouth in a stabbing motion more out of frustration than hunger. He’d planned to get a good night’s sleep and ride to Splendor in the morning, but the agitation he felt told him sleep wouldn’t come soon and he might as well head out tonight. The moon shone bright and Tempest knew the way through the trees. He’d stop at the Wild Rose, have a couple drinks, then return to the small sleeping quarters at the back of his livery.

  Saturday nights were good at the Rose. Perhaps he’d see the boys from the Pelletier ranch, swap stories, and listen to the new piano Amos brought in from the east—his response to the entertainment at the new saloon, the Dixie, which opened a few months before.

  As he finished tying the saddlebags on Tempest and swung into the saddle, a night at the Rose started to sound better and better. Maybe he’d even have more than two drinks and break his standing rule of not partaking in the offers by the women in the saloon. A grim smile played across his face at the thought. Perhaps tonight he’d start a new path, pushing Abigail Tolbert from his mind and heart altogether.

  Chapter Seven

  “Hey, Noah. I heard you were back.” Bull Mason, one of the top hands at the Pelletier ranch, held out his hand. “Also heard you brought Miss Tolbert back with you.”

  Noah pulled out a chair next to Bull, signaling for a drink.

  “She’d decided to come home anyway. I just accompanied her, nothing more.” He sipped the whiskey and settled back. “Haven’t seen her since I dropped her off at Suzanne’s.”

  Bull narrowed his eyes and studied Noah. The whole town knew how the two felt about each other and figured they’d soon start courting openly. “That right?” he asked, trying to get Noah to talk.

  Noah ignored Bull’s scrutiny. He didn’t want to discuss Abby, her father, or anything having to do with the past. “I’ve been at my cabin.”

  Bull took the hint, glancing around the table at the other ranch hands who’d remained silent. “You in?” he asked Noah, referring to the ongoing card game.

  “Yeah, I’m in.”

  “Dax saw Miss Tolbert working in the bank when he came to town yesterday.” Travis Dixon, another of the Pelletier men and one who rarely came out on a Saturday night, tossed down a couple cards and leaned back. “You think her pa knows?”

  “I believe we’d all have heard about it if Tolbert knew.” Noah tossed back the last of his whiskey, then fell silent.

  “Well, look who’s returned.” Dinah, one of the newest women at the Rose, placed a hand on Noah’s shoulder. “Thought you’d left the territory.”

  “Not yet,” Noah answered, glancing at her rouged cheeks and painted lips. He’d heard she was a favorite of the men at Tolbert’s ranch. Until tonight, he’d never considered visiting with her or any of Amos’ women. Somehow, trekking up the stairs held little appeal as he relaxed with his friends.

  “You want to celebrate your return with something special?” She squeezed Noah’s shoulder, hoping to entice him to her bed.

  The men around the table shot looks between themselves, knowing Noah’s aversion to taking his pleasure so everyone would know. Of all the men in Splendor, he kept his life private, sharing little of his past, even with those who’d known him since he first set foot in town.

  “Not now, Dinah. Maybe later.”

  “You let me know, honey. I’ll be waiting.” She flashed a smile around the table before moving on.

  “Guess I may want to stick around for this,” Bull quipped, earning a scowl from Noah and chuckles
from the others.

  “Anyone been in the Dixie lately?” Travis leaned forward and settled his arms on the table.

  “Heard from Luke the other owner is coming to town on next week’s stage to join Nick,” Bull answered.

  Nick Barnett and his partner owned the other saloon in Splendor. The Dixie offered entertainment, including the occasional singer or actress from back east. Most of the girls had been brought in from the south, where the owners started in the saloon business years before. People respected Nick, even when the Dixie began to take business away from the Wild Rose.

  “Luke would be the one to know,” one of the other men said.

  Before they were married, Luke’s wife, Ginny, had caused a minor confrontation between Nick and Luke. After the anger had cleared, Luke had finally seen his way to ask Ginny to marry him. The two men had settled their differences, and Luke even stopped at the Dixie for a drink on occasion.

  “Stage is coming in again Tuesday, so guess we’ll get to meet him.” Noah pushed back from the table. “I believe I’ll head out.”

  “And miss out on Dinah’s special celebration?” Bull said with a straight face.

  Noah spotted Dinah walking up the stairs, one of the Tolbert men behind her.

  “Don’t believe that will be a problem.”

  He pushed out the doors and into the bright, moonlit night, a slight breeze blowing. He glanced up and down the street, noticing the Dixie’s lights blazing as music wafted outside. He moved his gaze to Suzanne’s boardinghouse, not surprised to see every light out, and found himself wondering in which room Abby slept.

  Shoving his hands into his pockets, he walked the short distance to the livery. It and the tack shop stood directly across the street from the boardinghouse. If he chose, he could pretty much keep track of the town happenings by who went in and out. His stomach lurched, knowing he’d be seeing Abby every day, at least from a distance. The realization both taunted and comforted him as he slipped through the back door of the livery.

  Abby sat at her window, looking out at the main street and listening to the noises from the two saloons. She’d never stayed in town overnight, had no idea what went on after the stores closed and most slept. The activity surprised her.

  Saturday proved to be difficult. With the bank closed, she made a brief visit to the general store, purchasing a dress and pair of gloves. She stopped to let Sheriff Evans know she’d returned to Splendor against her father’s wishes, but the jail had been locked tight.

  On a normal visit to town, she’d make sure to see Noah and spend as much time around him as he’d allow. Today, she’d walked by the closed blacksmith shop, then wandered into his mining supply and tack shop to see Toby cleaning the shelves. They’d visited for a few minutes, neither mentioning Noah, before she returned to the boardinghouse, keeping Suzanne company in the kitchen. Suzanne refused her help with supper, instead asking if Abby might take on the responsibility of keeping the books for her. She jumped at the chance, working into the night until her eyes crossed.

  She’d climbed under the covers, tucking them beneath her chin to ward off a slight chill, thinking sleep would claim her within minutes. An hour later, she lay in the same position, staring at the ceiling. Frustrated, she threw off the covers and slipped into her wrapper before taking a seat at the window to watch the moonlight create images from the passing clouds. Drawing her knees up, she wrapped her arms around them and leaned against the window frame. Abby let her eyes drift shut, allowing herself to think of Noah.

  It had been a hard decision to tell him she no longer cared. Lies never came easily to Abby. After many hours of reflection, she’d accepted it had been her mistake to push Noah for something he couldn’t offer. He must have believed her to be one of the brashest women he’d ever met, yet he’d always been a gentlemen, never suggesting he thought her actions impetuous given how little they knew about each other.

  She wrapped her arms around herself and, closing her eyes, remembered the first time she’d meet Noah.

  Abby had come home from Philadelphia the summer before what she thought would be her last year back east. She didn’t want to leave the ranch when her father first mentioned boarding school, but he’d ignored all her protests and pleading. A rigid and controlling man, King Tolbert disregarded Abby’s objections, believing she had little common sense and approached all issues with emotion. The assumption had no basis in fact. In many ways, Abby took after him more than her mother.

  Smart, brash, and energetic like her father, she also held qualities Tolbert lacked—compassion, empathy, and an infectious personality. All had been traits of her mother, who’d passed away years before, leaving Abby to fend for herself in a world surrounded by men.

  Within minutes of her arrival on the stage, her father visited Noah. Tolbert ordered tools, picked up a horse Noah tended, and made arrangements for repairs to their buggy.

  Abby shifted on the window seat, remembering how she’d let her gaze roam over the man who towered above her father. His broad shoulders, muscular arms, and piercing blue eyes cut straight through her, unnerving and exciting her at the same time. His shirt stretched taut over an expansive chest, a hint of golden-colored hair peeking out. She drew in a breath and tried to look away, but couldn’t. He intrigued her, even though he made no attempt to introduce himself or include her in the conversation with her father.

  After several minutes of being ignored, Abby stepped forward and wrapped her hand through her father’s arm. “Aren’t you going to introduce me, Father?”

  Both men glanced at her—King Tolbert in irritation, and Noah with what she thought resembled amusement.

  “Abigail, this is Mr. Brandt. Brandt, my daughter, Abigail Tolbert.” His exasperation at having to include her didn’t surprise Abby or discourage her from dropping her arm from his and walking forward.

  “Ma’am.” Noah nodded as she came to a halt within a couple feet of him.

  “Mr. Brandt. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I just arrived on the stage from Philadelphia.”

  “Is that so?” Noah asked, the deep rumble of his voice washing over her, igniting a warm sensation in her stomach that traveled to her toes.

  “Oh, yes. I’ve been at boarding school for so long, I sometimes forget how much I miss Splendor. Do you like it here, Mr. Brandt?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

  “Have you—”

  “That’s enough, Abby,” her father cut in, settling a hand on her elbow and pulling her back toward him. “I’ll be back in a week for the order, Brandt.”

  “It’ll be ready,” Noah answered, never taking his eyes off Abby.

  As her father escorted her away, Abby remembered glancing over her shoulder at Noah, flattered to see his gaze still fixed on her. She knew nothing of love or courtship, or even much about what happened between a man and a woman. However, at that instant, she knew Noah Brandt would be someone important in her life.

  Abby opened her eyes and yawned, feeling as if she might now be able to claim sleep. She pulled back the curtain, took one more look outside, then shifted away when she spotted a man walk out of the swinging doors of the Wild Rose. He stepped into the moonlight and her breath caught. Noah. She dropped the curtain, continuing to stare.

  Even from her vantage point a floor above and across the street didn’t diminish his tall, muscular form. She watched as he glanced down the street, then moved his gaze to the boardinghouse, his head tipping up until he appeared to be looking straight at her. She flinched away before realizing he wouldn’t be able to see into her dark room through the dust-covered glass and sheer curtains.

  Noah seemed to be searching. Abby wondered if he might be trying to guess which room was hers, then shook her head at the silly thought. He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned toward the livery. Abby didn’t move as he disappeared inside. Even then, her gaze stayed locked on the door to his private quarters.

  For a brief, impetuous moment, she thought of slipping into her co
at and shoes and dashing across the street, pounding on his door and admitting she’d lied. She wanted to explain her true feelings and hope he might admit to returning her affections. Thankfully, she reined in her impulsive actions and turned toward her bed, slipping under the covers and shutting her eyes tight.

  “What do you mean you don’t have her?” Tolbert roared at the hired hand who’d returned with several other men from Big Pine.

  The man took a step back, fingering the brim of the hat he held in both hands. He knew if they returned without Miss Tolbert, there’d be hell to pay. Their boss wasn’t the type of man who listened to reason.

  “We watched three stages come and go, as you ordered, and when she didn’t appear, we rode back. The stage master told us a young woman got off the coach in Moosejaw, but he didn’t have a name. We could ride to Moosejaw—”

  “No,” Tolbert interrupted, slamming his fist on his desk. He had to think. “Get out,” he ordered, lowering himself into a chair, wondering where she’d gone.

  She’d always been stubborn, having her own ideas and opinions, which often conflicted with his own. Until Noah Brandt entered her life, she’d never been defiant. Tolbert believed Abigail thought she loved Brandt, but he knew otherwise. He believed Brandt to be nothing more than a tool she selected to get back at him for sending her away and controlling the direction of her life. By offering herself to Brandt, she’d found the one instrument of complete retaliation.

  The blacksmith represented everything she knew her father scorned—people in trade who used their hands to make a living. They lacked social standing and wealth and, therefore, were beneath him and Abigail.

  He stood, paced to a table, and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. Pouring a good amount into a glass, he took a sip, trying to put himself in Abby’s place. Where would she go, and whom would she turn to for help? Several names came to mind, but only one made complete sense—Noah Brandt.