Ruby's Song (Love in the Sierras Book 3) (15 page)

Marlena nodded, but her mind was elsewhere, on the man with the wide-brimmed hat who had kissed her senseless and pierced her with a bold look of promise. Her body tingled. What would it feel like to belong to Dalton, to be his? She longed to know it, and counted his words as her greatest victory of the night.

West…

Chapter 15

Cool autumn air smoothed over Dalton’s bare chest, creating steam when it mixed with the heat and sweat coating him. He took a break from his work, reaching down to stroke the black and white fur of his mut before he stood looking out over the crystal blue waters of Lake Tahoe. The surrounding trees had begun to change color, creating a tableau of bold reds and golds. He once found the view breathtaking but had ceased to find beauty in anything for the past two months, not since he’d heard the news.

He’d been away from Virginia City for a year, building his home in the mountains as well as working on several commissioned furniture pieces, so by the time the news had reached him it was already several months old. But there was no mistaking its validity, especially since it came straight from the mouth of Valentine Kelly.

Marlena was engaged to her manager, Harrison Brady.

Thinking of it set his body into a rage again, and he attacked the piece of pine set before him, sanding it with such force that rivulets of sweat poured in a steady drip from his nose. His original intention hadn’t been to make such a deep curve on the sides of the cradle, but the force and relentlessness of his hands created beautiful, deep bow-shaped flanks. He wished he could light it on fire. Nothing beautiful could come from his anger, his pain.

He wanted to rail at the sky and demand an answer from the One who knew all things.
Why?
Hadn’t he worked diligently to build a life for him, for them? He’d given up the hired gun work and peddled his furniture around all cities within a hundred mile radius since, as he’d expected, every door in Virginia City had been slammed in his face. He’d had to revisit every single one of his former clients to procure orders and he thanked God for the business thrust his way by Val and Morgan Kelly. He managed to earn enough work to fill his time for half a year and had become twenty-thousand dollars richer.

Marlena would have known all of this if she’d bothered to read his letters instead of returning them all unopened. At first, he didn’t believe she’d returned them. He’d assumed Sarah had refused to pass on his missives. But upon learning of her engagement, he knew he’d been wrong.

Fourteen months had passed since he’d seen her, since he’d promised to come back for her, and his every waking thought and effort had been to prepare a home and life for her in the Sierras. One she could be proud of and love. He’d homesteaded a beautiful plot of land overlooking the lake and built a two-story home with his own two hands, laboring to make it as lavish and comfortable as possible, even building an indoor water closet. Running water, indoor plumbing, solid pine furniture, all crafted with her tastes in mind. Then, the piece that gave him so much agony that he refused to sleep on it anymore.

The bed.

Four posts of solid pinion pine, carved and etched with rustic designs of leaves and pinecones. A headboard of poplar, whittled to display a herd of running horses, had taken him two months alone to carve and color through delicate pokerwork. But she would never see it. He’d had the mattress carted in from San Francisco. But she would never sleep on it.

She would never be a part of his life because she’d given her heart to another.

How foolish he felt, how foolish he’d been to believe Marlena would wait for him, that she shared his affections at all. Why wait for a rustic life with him when every glorious luxury was being poured at her feet? Sarah was right. What could he offer her that the world wasn’t already granting? Nothing. Which was why she had turned her back on him and his promise.

He threw his tools on the ground before stomping to the well for a drink. This was the only item he hadn’t built alone. Val had helped him use the auger to bore holes through trunks of hemlock for a well until he could procure cast iron pipes, and in exchange Dalton agreed to build a cradle for Val and Jess’s coming infant, a child he had expected would call him “uncle” one day, along with Val’s twins, Barrett and Heath.

After a long swig of cool water his body calmed, and in that silent moment an aching emptiness consumed him, making the backs of his eyes sting. He filled another cup with water and splashed it on his face. If he couldn’t rage away the hurt, he would cool it, but he knew it wouldn’t leave him entirely. He’d tried everything to alleviate the throbbing red of his heartache. He’d chopped trees into tiny pieces, punched their trunks until his knuckles bled, submerged himself in the icy Tahoe waters and drunk himself into oblivion. All to no avail. He still loved her, and his heart was as shattered this day as it was the day Val shared the news two months ago.

The ears of his pup, Indigo, perked up as his head swiveled toward the woods. Soon, the animal stood on all fours and bounded off. Dalton shrugged. There’d been no barking so it wasn’t a threat. Perhaps the dog had found a critter to harass. As Dalton returned to his work on the cradle, Indigo yelped playfully in the distance, and the low rumble of a male voice sounded. It was Val. He and Juliet were the only ones who knew where Dalton lived.

“Heya, Dalton,” Val called as he emerged on foot, tugging his horse’s reins behind him.

“Val.” He nodded. “What brings you here?”

“Just thought I’d check on that cradle and see if you wanted some company.”

A knowing chuckle rippled through him. “Jess on the rampage again?”

Val tied his horse to a tree and walked toward Dalton. “Been on one for seven months now. I can handle my feisty girl, but it’s those tears that kill me. Nothing makes a man feel more helpless or wretched than a pregnant woman crying. I know it’s my fault but I’ll be damned if I know what I did. It’s enough to drive a man into the woods, deep into the woods.”

“Stop filling her belly with children then.”

“Not a chance.” Val smirked. “I’ll endure nine months of torment for the pleasure of her nine months of repentance after the baby is born.”

They laughed and took a seat on the porch steps.

“Speaking of which,” Val continued. “When’s the last time you ventured into town for female company? It’s not healthy for a young man sitting up here on his own. Pretty soon that dog of yours is going to start looking
mighty
tempting.”

Val laughed and Dalton shook his head with a roll of his eyes. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t admit he hadn’t even looked at another woman for fourteen months, let alone touched one. Val had no idea about his feelings for Marlena. No one but his mother did. In fact, he’d instructed her to leave him completely out of her tales of Boston and Marlena. In the beginning, he didn’t feel right declaring his love openly to Marlena’s family until she’d had a chance to tell them herself. Now that she was engaged to someone else, he was happy no one knew.

“We haven’t seen you in town for two months,” Val said, his voice sobering. “Everything all right with you?”

Dalton shrugged. “Just haven’t felt much like being around people, especially women.”

A long pause ensued as Dalton studied the ripples on the lake’s surface, but Val soon broke the silence.

“My God,” he said. “You’ve got the look of a lovesick pup. You’re having women troubles, aren’t you?”

Dalton snorted and left the porch, gathering his tools to put away before nightfall. “Not anymore. What I’m having is what’s left after the burn of her turning her back on us. Whatever you call that.”

Val grimaced. “She married someone else?”

A deep breath filled Dalton’s lungs as he closed his eyes. Talking about it was like ripping open a fresh scab on a deep wound. “She’s about to.”

“Well,” Val said as he stood and joined Dalton, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “Sorry my friend, but I think now is the best time for you to venture into town. The best way to get over an old flame is to start a new one.”

“Is that how you’d feel if Jess had married someone else?”

Val’s forehead fell into deep, wide grooves. “Hell no. But Jess is different. She’s special. A man would be a fool to let her slip away.”

“But what if she didn’t want you? Didn’t love you?”

“If I truly believed she didn’t love me, then I’d have no choice but to let her go. I’d probably own stock in whiskey shortly thereafter. But if she doesn’t love you, you have to let her go, man. Find another woman to help you forget.”

Dalton said nothing, but pinched his lips as he nodded in thought. Perhaps Val was right. If Marlena’s life was moving away from him permanently, what good would it do him sitting in the mountains on his own, pining for her? He was well aware of his physical needs, had been battling them every day since he left Boston. One thing he’d loved about his homestead was the lack of distraction, the solitude, but it was suffocating at present with his daily torture of unanswered questions. Distraction was exactly what he needed, but perhaps not the kind Val suggested.

“I think I will take a trip to Virginia City,” Dalton said. “A change of scenery may be the thing I need.”

“Now, you’re talking,” Val said, clapping him on the back. “Go clear out the cobwebs, my friend. Make sure that thing in your pants still works.”

Dalton made quick work of putting his projects away and securing the house, packing a bit of food and some spare clothes before climbing onto the saddle. “Indigo, come!” he called and the dog jogged beside him as he and Val trotted down the mountain. Once into the valley, Val split off toward his ranch and Dalton carried on to Virginia City.

It was morning by the time Dalton arrived, just the same as the last time he’d gone there at this time of day a year and a half ago. It was almost as if time had stood still, like the past eighteen months had been erased and he’d never seen Marlena or Boston. He thought back on the morning his mother announced she was leaving for London. If he could change his decision, would he? Would he still travel with his mother, knowing the heartbreak he’d feel a year later?

Tennyson wrote
‘Tis better to have loved and lost, Than never to have loved at all
. Dalton wasn’t so sure. Then her image flashed before his mind’s eye, her bright violet eyes and full rosy lips, and he knew he’d never give up those visions for the sake of his pain. He could do without the memory of Harrison’s roving eyes, though. He pushed through the brothel’s back door.

The women were surprised to see him, as evident by their gasps and happy smiles, and there were even some faces he didn’t recognize, new faces who flirted openly.

“Hola, mi amor,” he heard Rosa say behind him, her voice a soft whisper. He turned a smile onto her, but almost frowned at how thin she’d become. Her dark eyes had a hollow, sad look to them, and guilt wringed a sigh from his gut. He knew, now more than ever, the effects of a broken heart. That she still suffered from it more than a year later pained him even though it had been necessary.

When he’d returned from Boston, Rosa had greeted him with eyes full of hope and love. He knew he couldn’t lead her on and so had told her that his heart well and truly belonged to someone else, another woman he fully intended to make his bride one day. She took the news about as well as he took the news of Marlena and Harrison, and he imagined he’d look as bad as her a year from now, too.

“How are you, Rosa?” he managed.

Her lips curved softly at the corners. “Happy to see you.”

He didn’t want her to have any false ideas. “I’m here to see my mother.”

The smile faded. “She’s not here right now. How about some food? A drink? You look like you rode all night and could use a rest.”

“I ate on the trail, but I’ll definitely take the rest.”

She nodded. “Your room is still empty.”

Juliet had a room designated for Dalton so he could come and go as he pleased. The ladies were not allowed in it except to clean, but when he laid on the soft mattress, he knew Rosa had broken the rule. The pillow and all of its linens smelled of her. He imagined she’d slept in his bed several times, remembering the nights they’d shared in it.

“Damnation,” he muttered. This was not the kind of distraction he needed.

He rolled onto his side and patted the mattress, calling for Indigo to hop up and snuggle close. The dog obliged and Dalton fell asleep with the smell of wet mountain dog in his nostrils. The next time his eyes opened, they were to find his mother standing over his bed, arms akimbo and a disapproving glare on her face.

“Glad to see you’re still alive,” she said. “Seeing as how I’ve not heard a single word from you in two months.”

He may not have made it into the city for a year, but he’d made sure to send his mother weekly missives, letting her know he was all right. The last message he’d sent was only a sentence long: Marlena is engaged, and not to me.

“Nice to see you, too, Mother.”

His eyes were dry and he rubbed them as he sat up in the bed. Indigo sat up, too, and Juliet snapped her fingers toward the ground. The dog leapt down at once.

“Don’t give me that,” Juliet said. “I know why you’ve kept away. You’ve been hiding out, playing the coward. Well, don’t think you’ll continue that facade in my house. If you’re going to be here, you’ll make yourself useful. No more sulking. You have no one to blame for this but yourself. I told you on the train as it pulled away from Boston that you oughtn’t to have left that girl.”

His hand fell from his eyes and he glared up at his mother. “I didn’t come here so you could pour salt on an open wound.”