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Mountain Man (Book 2): Homecoming Page 4
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And she could admit she sometimes woke from her own nightmares, again feeling those rough hands on her, the despair and helplessness of being unable to prevent what was about to happen. In fact, she'd had a bad dream just last night. And judging by the whimpers she'd heard coming from Skyler's blankets, she had a feeling she wasn't the only one.
She supposed they all had their demons to work out after what they'd been through in Texas.
Breakfast was almost ready when Vicky returned, face pale and splotchy and eyes red from crying. Kristy immediately went to meet her, pulling her into a comforting hug. “Sorry,” her friend mumbled.
“Shh,” she replied, blinking away a few tears of her own at the petite woman's obvious suffering as she gently led her back to the fire. Vicky allowed herself to be comforted just that much, then busied herself making up plates of oatmeal for Bob and Lisa and hurried off to deliver them.
Kristy did the same for Tom and Skyler, making her way over to the wagon to pass them out. Her son took his plate and immediately headed over to join his friend, while Tom accepted his plate and wasted no time taking a bite. He made an appreciative noise, and Kristy was torn between being pleased he enjoyed it and annoyed that that was usually as much compliment as the man offered.
Then again, she supposed that was just how he was. “How did the meeting last night go?” she asked him.
“Fine. Emery's willing to let in the people who want to stay, as long as they can fend for themselves.”
That was literally the bare minimum of hospitality, but about as much as they could've hoped for, these days. All the same, Kristy felt relieved for her friends; she'd felt bad about the prospect of leaving them behind, but at the same time knew Tom would probably refuse flat out if she'd asked to bring them all up to his mountains. Not to mention she wasn't sure any of them would want to live that way.
Heck, she wasn't sure she did. It was worth trying, at least, to be with Tom.
She was leaning in to pat his arm before going to fetch her own food when she paused, frowning. Then she leaned in closer, sniffing delicately. “Did you grab a few drinks at the meeting?”
Tom nodded, not looking the slightest bit guilty or self-conscious. “It's my tradition when I reach a trading post while part of a convoy, or the few times a year I come down to Emery to trade. Exactly two drinks, sipped slowly over a few hours.”
Well, that was hardly raging drunkenness, although Kristy still wasn't happy to hear it. She wasn't a prude, of course, and to be fair she'd had a few drinks with Miles over the years, when they were celebrating or when he was determined to drink whether or not she joined him. Her husband hadn't been a drunk, either, but there'd been hard times when he'd had more than he should've, enough to confirm for her that she never wanted him to go down that road.
And admittedly, the one time she remembered having enough to black out, or more accurately didn't remember and had woken up covered in her own sick, was embarrassing enough that she had no desire to go down it, either.
Something to watch out for, although she could believe Tom was the sort to be as cautious with drinking as he was with everything else. Kristy finished leaning in to pat his arm. “Well, I'm glad you had a chance to unwind with your friends.”
“Wouldn't exactly call them best buds . . . actually, I should've thought to invite you along,” he said, finally looking a bit chagrined. “I kind of missed our routine of not watching the sunset together, and I'm sure you would've enjoyed the chance to unwind, too.” He hesitated. “That is, if the occasional drink's your thing.”
Well, that was a reminder that even after spending over a month together, they still had a lot to learn about each other. Although she felt a warm thrill that he'd missed her last night; she'd missed him, too. “It is, every now and again.” She patted his arm again and headed back to the fire to fetch her own breakfast.
To her surprise, the mountain man joined her, lowering his voice. “So . . . you give some thought to what I suggested yesterday?”
“About starting up a ranch with Bob and Vicky?” Kristy grinned at him. “If you have to ask, I'm not sure I adequately jumped for joy when you brought up the idea.”
She wasn't exaggerating, either. She'd always loved horses, and finally owning Horse had reminded her of just how much she'd longed to have one as a girl, before the shortages and Ultimatum. Ranching seemed like a wonderfully romantic and idyllic life.
Then there was also the fact that resigning herself to living as a mountain woman to be with Tom, she'd envisioned herself checking snares and hunting deer, wearing buckskins and eating venison and wild greens three meals a day. Compared to that, the life of a rancher seemed like heaven. Especially since they could afford it, thanks to Miles's scavenged treasure.
Or she supposed Tom's, now, since she'd promised it to him for getting her and Skyler to Newpost, however that had turned out, and she was firmly determined to keep that promise. But it was hard to remember that sometimes, when he acted as if the wealth was just as much hers and Skyler's still.
Kristy felt her cheeks coloring at the niggling thought that when they got married, if they got married, who owned what would no longer be an issue.
“Should we tell the others about it?” she asked, crouching to begin filling her plate from the pot of oatmeal.
Tom hesitated. “I'd like to wait until after we head up to Utah Valley and make sure the treasure's still there, and it's safe to take. Otherwise, we'd be raising questions about where the money's coming from, and disappointing them if it turns out to not be available after all, for nothing.”
She bit back a groan at the prospect of more travel. “You're not planning on going anytime soon, I hope.”
He shook his head. “Before it gets too cold, ideally, but there's no rush. I think we'd want to wait until spring to begin searching for livestock to purchase, anyway . . . might involve a lot of wandering around Central and Northern Utah to find enough sellers to really get an operation started.”
That sounded even less enjoyable. Still, it was hard to begrudge the prospect considering the new start it meant for them. With Tom.
Kristy felt that same giddy feeling she felt every time they held hands. The desire to find excuses to touch him, to spend time with him. Which was silly, since he hadn't even kissed her yet; in spite of his obvious feelings for her his cautious nature made him drag his feet, until she wanted to get behind him and start shoving to hurry him along.
Tom finished eating and sorted out packing up the last of their possessions. Then, with everything pretty much set for them to continue on into the mountains, he announced that he needed to head into town to pick up some things from the trading post, and make arrangements with Brady to look after the wagon until they could find a buyer. Assuming the trader hadn't already.
Bob wanted to go with him to pick up some food stores and a few small items, and Kristy decided to join them, leaving Vicky and the kids to watch their stuff.
It was a fairly pleasant walk along the quiet streets of Emery, only a few people up and about at that hour. Kristy waved to those she saw, and was surprised at how many paused to exchange words with Tom about the bandits, seeming to want reassurance that they weren't headed this way anytime soon. That is, after they recognized him without the hair and beard; apparently, she wasn't the only one who'd been shocked by the change in the mountain man.
Brady's trading post was just as she remembered it from months ago, the man bustling about restocking in preparation for any potential customers from the convoy. “Back again, Tom?” he called cheerfully as Tom entered first. Then he noticed Kristy and looked shocked for a moment before his smile broadened. “And in such charming company! Good to see you again, Mrs. Graham.”
“Thank you, Mr. Everett,” she replied, a bit surprised he remembered her.
“And Mr. Hendrickson!” the trader continued as Bob followed them in. “Good to see you again, and thanks for the warning about conditions in Newpost for those captured
by these South American bandits. Certainly something to be avoided at all costs.”
Bob nodded curtly, obviously not liking the reminder of his family's suffering, and immediately got to browsing through the store's wares. Meanwhile, Tom had made his way up to the counter, where Brady had joined him and was hauling a heavy wrapped bundle up onto the countertop. “I believe this is most of what you wanted yesterday,” he said, glancing at Kristy and shaking his head in disbelief. She had a feeling he hadn't expected to see her with Tom.
Well, as far as anyone knew the mountain man had been old and grizzled when buried beneath his own little mountain of hair. Her own first impression of him, back when they'd set out from Emery, hadn't exactly been favorable. Although if nothing else, his grizzled appearance had hidden the remarkable man he was from other prospects over the years, until she'd had a chance to meet him.
Even so, she was glad he was keeping up the shaving, and had let her cut his hair again a week or so ago; she kind of liked his face, and it was a shame to think of it hidden behind a shaggy beard.
“Think of anything else to add besides, um, what we talked about?” Tom asked the trader, cautiously glancing Kristy's way.
Brady hesitated, also once again looking at her, and she wondered if this purchase was some sort of secret. “A few extra things I think will be appreciated,” he admitted. “All in all I figure it'll run you about fifteen ounces silver.”
Kristy sucked in a shocked breath at that veritable fortune. She expected Tom, who she'd seen bargain shrewdly in Grand Junction, to have a heart attack at the price. But he just glanced back at her again and shrugged awkwardly, seeming in a hurry to close the deal without drawing too much attention to it. “You always do price fairly.”
Realization dawned, and she did her best not smile. The bundle contained something he didn't want her to know about; she would've thought liquor, in spite of his earlier protests, but he didn't seem guilty, just a bit cagey.
That pointed to gifts for her and Skyler, maybe something to ease them into their new lives in the mountains. Tom obviously wanted to keep it a surprise, even if it meant eating higher costs. He was just clumsy with this sort of well-intentioned subterfuge, probably not having had to do it often, and Brady was a terrible accomplice in it.
Maybe intentionally so, since the trader obviously found the whole thing amusing. Well, Kristy wasn't about to let the man wring an undeserved profit out of a thoughtful gesture Tom was doing for her, so she pointedly cleared her throat. “Tom, I forgot something back at the camp. Give me a few minutes?”
He gave her a relieved look. “Sure, we'll be here.”
She headed outside and started down the street, walking just out of sight of the trading post before stopping to twiddle her thumbs for the next few minutes. She was just starting to wonder if she'd waited long enough when Bob rounded the corner and practically walked into her, carrying a few small items.
She made a surprised sound and looked at him sheepishly, expecting him to ask what the blazes she was doing. But he just waved distractedly and walked on past, seemingly lost in his usual grim mood. “Tom's getting me a gift,” she explained to his back.
“Nice of him,” her friend mumbled, not even looking over his shoulder as he kept going.
Well, they all had healing to do. Kristy made her way back to Brady's store and nearly ran into Tom on the way out. “Sorry I took so long,” she said, idly poking the bundle slung on the mountain man's back and noting his obvious discomfort at the attention she was paying to it. Yep, that was looking a lot like gifts. “Fifteen ounces, huh?”
He cleared his throat and scratched at his jaw. “Actually, I was able to talk him down to eleven.”
Kristy bit back a broad smile; that's about what she'd figured. Once she was out of the way, no longer risking ruining the surprise, he was able to haggle the way he usually would. “Can't wait to see what costs that kind of money,” she teased, patting his cheek.
Then she stepped briskly past him. “I shouldn't be long, just want to pick up a few things.” She paused, giving him a sly look over her shoulder. “And I'll check with Brady to make sure you haven't already purchased what I was planning to get.”
His expression was priceless. Definitely gifts.
She was going to spoil the surprise herself if she kept this up, so she let him escape out the door after Bob and got busy gathering up a few necessary items. Some of which she didn't really want to buy in front of Tom anyway, although for more personal and embarrassing reasons.
“Tom already picked up some of those,” Brady mentioned when Kristy set her small pile of goods in front of him. Thanks to the direction her thoughts had been going, for a mortifying moment she thought he meant the stack of sanitary cloths she'd sheepishly shuffled to the bottom of the pile, and furiously wondered just what the mountain man thought was an appropriate gift.
Then she realized the trader was pointing to a small bar of soap she'd wanted to buy so she didn't have to keep borrowing Tom's, and relief mixed with a healthy portion of embarrassment surged through her. “Oh. I wanted the scented soap, though.”
Although Brady's expression was suitably professional, his eyes twinkled. “So did he this time, apparently. First time for everything, I guess.”
And again, definitely gifts . . . she was going to have to practice looking surprised. Although if Tom really had spent a hefty chunk of his savings buying her luxury items like scented soap, to make her stay in his winter lodge more comfortable, she wouldn't have to practice looking delighted.
* * * * *
“I'll be back in town as often as I can,” Kristy promised Fiona as she hugged her tight, “but if you need anything, you send Brandon or Logan up to the valley to let me know.”
“I will,” the young woman said, giving her a wan but warm smile. “Keep fussing over me like this, and I might have to start calling you “Mother Kristy.”
She laughed. “Come on, I'm not that old.” She turned and hugged Logan, who practically squirmed in embarrassment, then offered her hand to Brandon. “Take care of yourselves.”
“We will,” the young man promised as he returned the handshake. “It might not be the new life we were hoping for, but it can still be good.”
Kristy felt a slight pang at that, wishing there was more she could do for the three. But Brandon was a good man, hardworking and dependable, and he seemed determined to take care of the Williamson siblings. They were all good people, strong enough to move on from what they'd suffered.
She hoped for the best for them.
Reluctantly leaving them behind, she continued on to share some final goodbyes with the rest of the convoy members, wanting to make sure they all had solid plans for the future. She made a special effort to speak to the other women who'd be staying in Emery, like with Fiona letting them know she'd be coming into town as often as she could, to say hello and see how they were settling into their new lives. She also urged them to visit her if they needed help, or just a quiet, safe place to stay for a while.
The others had been saying their goodbyes as well, although none as extensively as Kristy; actually, Tom took nearly as long for the opposite reason, since after going around and offering his characteristically brief goodbyes the convoy members were reluctant to let him go. They all seemed to want one last chance to express their gratitude to the mountain man for saving them, and for leading them safely back to a new home, far away from the threat of the invaders coming up from south of the border.
He responded solemnly to their thanks, but Kristy couldn't help but love him for how awkward he seemed at all the attention.
Unlike Simon Randall, who'd led the convoy to Newpost before the bandits attacked; that arrogant lech would've lapped up the praise as his due, and probably tried to use it to get in some vulnerable, grateful woman's pants. Or maybe not . . . bad as he was, even he wouldn't have tried hassling these poor women after what they'd suffered.
Not that the convoy's previous leader had
extended that same courtesy to Kristy, when he'd confronted her shortly after Tom rescued everyone. But she preferred not to think about that infuriating encounter.
In any case, before she'd let herself be distracted by such unpleasant thoughts, she'd been dwelling on how Tom hadn't done any of what he did for praise or adulation, just out of a simple desire to help people as best he could. She couldn't resist the urge to go and take his hand as he said his goodbyes to the last few people in the convoy, although what she really wanted to do was hug him tight and never let him go.
Well, time for that later, she hoped.
With their final farewells made they were off, at last, loaded down as much as the horses and mule and with the prospect of only another half day of travel before their trip, which had started in Utah Valley and taken them all the way to Texas and back, was officially over.
Kristy couldn't wait.
Although it was proving to be the least pleasant leg of the trip; after weeks of traveling with a good wagon pulled by strong horses, she'd almost forgotten what it was like to have to haul possessions. In a way, it was even more tiring than pushing a handcart, or pulling the little wagon they'd had for the last stretch to Newpost, because it used different muscles and there were no wheels to help manage the weight. She also couldn't set down her burden without completely taking off the pack, which was a hassle.
On top of that, as the hours passed she grew more and more convinced someone was playing pranks on her, slipping rocks into her backpack every time they rested. Which happened often enough that Tom was obviously irked by the slow pace, although since it was usually Vicky who needed to stop he had the good grace not to say anything.
Thankfully, while the trip was uphill most of the way it was still tolerable. Especially when Kristy had the excitement of her new life to look forward to; as they walked, she found herself imagining the sort of things she'd do, the scenic vistas she'd have a chance to see. And simple pleasures like waking up in the morning and going outside to see deer grazing a stone's throw away, or rabbits hopping along a babbling brook.