Page 56 of Beyond Montana's Sky
Or a husband with a house.
The Grayson home is much unchanged except they’ve installed electricity and added another bathing room. It seems strange to be here without Nathaniel, and I do miss his presence. Yet, at the same time, I’ve grown so far from the grief-stricken widow I was. Thank you, my dear brother, for providing a place for Ben and me to heal.
We will visit with the rest of the Grayson family for dinner tomorrow. I’m looking forward to seeing my nieces again.
I promise, I’ll write more next time. But the journey was long and tedious, and I’m off to bed. Kiss my darling Charlotte for me.
Love,
Edith.
She hesitated, wondering which person next to write. Actually, she knew which one she wanted toavoidwriting to. Even now the memories of Cai made her shiver—his roguish charm; how when he smiled, the corners of his eyes creased, and the teasing glint in them; his rich, low laugh. Why, he could even laugh at himself—a trait she found appealing, for, with a few exceptions, Livingstonscertainlynever laughed at themselves.
An unexpected lump clogged her throat.I can’t be mourning Cai. He’s alive.Still, the sharp pain felt similar to grief.
After all, I did promise to write. I will do so, and then I can put him out of my mind and concentrate on the other suitors who will come my way.So she took out another sheet of stationery and began to compose a few half-truths.
Dear Mr. Driscoll,
As you requested, I’m writing to tell you Ben and I arrived safely in Boston and were warmly welcomed by my in-laws. I’m glad to be home.
Please give my best to the Andersons.
Sincerely,
Edith Grayson
She folded the letter and tucked it into the envelope.There,she thought decisively,that’s the end of my association with Cai Driscoll.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
With the fatted steers shipped off, Cai and his ranch hands needed to move the rest of the herd down to the grassland by the stream, where they’d have a month’s grazing before winter set in. That task usually involved several grueling days of searching for cows in the trees, bushes, and hidden ravines of the hills and moving them down the trail in a long string. Unfortunately, many of the cattle, instead of knowing what was good for them, often refused to head peaceably along the trail, breaking out and heading for hiding spots.
The work kept Cai’s mind occupied and mostly away from thoughts of Edith, for he had to anticipate spots where one or more cows would break for freedom, and he’d head Rascal to quickly cut them off. But sometimes he had moments to breathe, where he couldn’t help pulling himself outside the scene, taking everything in, and imagining how he’d write to her about these details:
The day was cold enough that clouds of steam came from the horses, and in spite of my layers of clothing and outerwear, sometimes the wind cut so sharply, I might as well have been buck-naked.
He could imagine scandalizing Edith when she read those words. Her cheeks would fill with fiery roses, and those full pink lips would pursejust so. Might have to drop a kiss on them.
Cai laughed and returned to writing his imaginary letter.
Well, maybe not quite buck-naked. I was grateful for the felted woolen cap I wore under my Stetson, the scarf wound around my neck and lower face, my gloves, the heavy coat over two shirts, pants, and thick long underwear.
Mentioning long johns would probably also give her prissy hysterics.
I almost welcomed riding after ornery cows into a coulee—that’s a ravine for you city folk—for at least the jagged walls, studded with lodge-pole pines, blocked the chill, resin-scented wind. When I guided Rascal between close-set trees, I was grateful for the chaps protecting my legs from the rough trunks. Otherwise, I might have left some of my skin behind.
At one point, I rode up a hill, seeking a few stragglers, only to spy them down near a creek lined with blazing yellow cottonwood and red willow, about half a mile below. Their black shapes looked the size of my thumbnail, standing out against the golden grass as they moved across the small clearing. In another minute, I would have lost sight of them in the trees and probably ended up searching for another day.
Bear rode up. “You daydreamin’?” He growled in obvious exasperation. “You let that heifer git right by you.”
Cai just shook his head and kneed Rustler after the errant heifer. He knew he should keep his mind on his work and not on a woman in far-away Boston.One who probably won’t be thinking of me.But he hadn’t yet figured out a way to put Edith Grayson from his mind.
* * *
The next evening after a day of shopping, Edith went to the parlor to join her in-laws. For the sake of Mildred and Julia’s sensibilities, she wore half-mourning—one of her favorite mauve gowns—and hoped Dr. Angus Cameron would never know she donned a color that might have been made from poisonous dyes.
Just for a few weeks, she mentally promised the doctor, as if he were actually chiding her in person, his Scottish brogue thickening in exasperation.
