Page 37 of That Fateful Ride

Finally, the day Rebecca should return arrived. Unsure if her Army escort would have been there or not he anxiously kept an eye on the horizon.

“Rider up!” he called out as the familiar dust cloud rolling from beneath horse’s hooves appeared.

The breath it seemed he’d been holding all day left him in a disappointed rush. The incoming horse wasn’t the dun he’d hoped to see but itwasone he recognized. Reaver. The knowledge made his heart sink with the knowledge. Robert—the real one—had returned.

Chapter9

Rebecca wiped her hand across her mouth to remove the dripping water. She felt terrible. Standing upright, she hefted the bucket to add to the tub to continue the washing.

“You okay, Rebecca?”

“Yes, ma’am.” She nodded along with her response although it was nothing more than pure fabrication. Something was wrong and she didn’t know what. Emotions were all over the place, she was sore in ways she’d not been since she first laid with Cy. It didn’t make sense.

She’d been home for nearly a month now. Summer had arrived and was settling in with a vengeance and Robert had gone back to riding the route. A fact that both pleased and upset her.

Cy. Her hands trembled again at the thought of never seeing him again.

A mental admonishment for that’s what caused the splash the first time. She emptied the bucket in the large iron pot. This would be the last load for the day and she was glad. She stirred another and glanced to her mother.

Ever since word of the start of the war had come through, Mama had been nervous about Papa. Not that she wasn’t, no word from her Papa wasn’t like him. She noticed this slight slump in her mother’s normally erect carriage.

Was she exhausted? Of course, but so was her mother. Rebecca took a deep breath and tucked a short curl beneath the kerchief on her head. “I can finish this, Mama, why don’t you go inside early.”

“There’s so much—”

She pasted a small smile on her face. “It’s okay, Mama. You go. I’ll finish folding these to be ready for pickup.” She’d already delivered some.

“Maybe I will.” Mama removed her apron and went from the small building where they ran the washing business to the house.

Rebecca sighed and chewed on a fingernail as she stirred the boiling sheets, briefly. She made her way to where her mother had been ironing and folding. Determined to ignore the unrelenting images and memory of Cy, she worked like a woman possessed.

When people began showing up it was all ready. Even the final wash hung out to dry.

“Hello, Rebecca,” a deep voice said from her left.

Startled, she looked up and put a hand on her belly stilling the unease there. “Good evening, Anson.” Not whom she wanted to see. Sure, he was nice enough, if she wanted to have ten kids hanging on her skirts. He couldn’t understand she had no desire for that many.

“You’re looking lovely tonight.”

His look was expectant and she hid her annoyance. “You’re very handsome as well.”

As she anticipated, he preened and puffed out his chest even more. In her eyes, he still fell short. Moreover, to her knowledge everyone would for they just couldn’t begin to compare to Cy.

She hadn’t lied that day—that last day—when he’d taken her in the stable. Idiot that she was she’d gone and fallen in love with him the former solider turned station manager.

Then she told him. Not her best moment.

“What do you think?” Anson touched her arm as he asked.

Great. While she’d been daydreaming about Cy, this one had been talking. “Umm.”

“Just a stroll through town, Rebecca. That’s all.”

“Sure.” She could do that. Besides, just because he didn’t make her legs weak, heart race, or breathing go out of control didn’t mean she couldn’t accompany him.

“I’ll be by for you at eight.”

“See you then.”

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