Heart of Eden (Colorado Hearts #1)(4)
“Really, Belle, you sound like a novelist. What about Lesley?” Mavis tipped her head. “I can’t imagine your fine young gentleman is just letting you waltz off to Colorado. Not when the two of you are so close to making your relationship binding.”
Belle smiled at the mention of her sweetheart. “You’re right about that. He’s coming with us. To keep us safe. I thought that exceedingly kind.”
“You’re wiping away my objections like they’re ice in the sun,” Mavis said, her brow still lined with worry. “And Uncle Vernon? What does he think about the whole situation? He never had one nice thing to say about Eden—or our father.”
At the mention of their uncle’s name, Belle cut her gaze to the window, squelching her immature desire to make a face. How she loathed that man. “Actually, he’s been very strange since the telegram arrived. When I told him we’d been called back to Eden, his face turned white as chalk and he said little, which confounded us because we’ve all heard him go on and on about Father. Anyway, the next morning, he announced that Aunt Velma would be accompanying him on a long-planned business trip. They packed that day, wished us well, and departed.”
Mavis cocked her head, confused. Their aunt and uncle had been orchestrating their lives for years and didn’t give power away without a fight. “Not one protest or complaint?”
“No. It was the strangest thing. I’m still trying to figure out why.”
“How curious,” Mavis whispered. “Where’d they go?”
“I have no idea. Uncle Vernon hadn’t mentioned the trip until that moment.”
Tired of trying to figure out their guardians’ motives, Belle turned her attention to the mysteries ahead. “Even more surprising is that, after all these years of speculating about our past, we’ll be on a train to Eden in the morning.” She reached down and squeezed Mavis’s hands. “No matter what we learn about Father and his brutish ways, it’ll be better than always wondering, longing.” Belle warmed with the sense of excitement rolling around inside her.
What the future held was anyone’s guess. But she was anxious to find out.
CHAPTER THREE
Eden, Colorado
The office above the mercantile was a stuffy tomb. The usual high-mountain September temperatures were ten degrees warmer than normal for this time of year. The voices of the shoppers below rose to barely a murmur over the pounding of Blake’s heart. He ran a finger around his snug collar, wishing he could dispose of his black bolo tie. Or better, that he was out riding herd. If he could, he’d reverse time so John had never gone to ride fence the day his horse spooked at a rattlesnake and fell on him.
Word was that John’s daughters had arrived the day before. Blake wondered if he’d be able to pick out who was who. He thought he would remember them well enough, despite the growing up they’d all done. Would they remember him? For a few months after losing his own, they’d been family. He hadn’t even minded they were all girls. But then they’d left for good, without a single word to him. He’d felt betrayed.
Silly, maybe, for children so young . . .
Going to the window, he pushed the pane up as far as it would go, sucking in what seemed like his last breath of life.
“Relax, Blake,” Henry Glass said on a chuckle. “Everything’s going to be fine. You look like you’re ready to meet the enemy.”
Henry might not think so, but Blake wasn’t so sure. He’d seen all the nights John had paced the floor, waiting for a reply to any of his letters. Just one damn reply was all he’d dreamed about, year after year, until his colorful heart full of hope was reduced to a dreary brown, dried-out piece of driftwood.
Henry pointed a finger at him and raised a brow. “I’m serious, Blake. John wouldn’t want you holding on to any animosity toward his girls. You need to put your personal feelings aside. Get to know them. Forgive them.”
“That’s all fine and good,” Blake responded, thinking his scar was feeling exceptionally tight and angry today. The sensation could happen anytime, making the years-old blemish pinch for no reason whatsoever, except perhaps when his ire had been raised. Blake hated the sensation. The wound began at the bottom of his chin, ran down the left side of his neck, and continued over his left chest muscle. People who didn’t know him gawked or turned away in fright. That’s why he preferred the wide-open ranges to the confines of town. The fewer people he had to face, the better he liked it. “You’re not gonna be the one who has to deal with ’em night and day now, are you, Henry?” Blake shook his head. “No, sir, you’re not. It’s gonna be me putting out any problem that ruffles their citified feathers. I can just see it now . . .”
“You’re being a mite melodramatic, aren’t you?”
Blake ignored Henry’s comment as he absentmindedly fingered his scar. “Why can’t you tell me why I had to come to this? I’m the ranch foreman, not family. The reading of a will should be private.” He watched his friend try and ignore his question as he went about straightening his maple-wood desk. “You know what’s in it. Hell—you’re the author.”
Henry shrugged. “You know I can’t say.”
“I don’t expect anything from John.” He shot Henry a critical look. “He should have left fate alone after he died and not forced the girls to come to Eden. If they’d wanted to be here, they’d have returned long ago. Maybe I’ll ride out before this circus gets started. Look for greener pastures.”