A Treasure Concealed (13 page)

Caeden knew he'd upset Emily by his actions. He'd been a fool to even think about kissing her, but there she was in his arms. So sad. So vulnerable. He was a complete heel to act as he had. Even so, he knew Emily had wanted him to kiss her. He could see it in her eyes, so why would she not be honest with him about it?

She had already turned away to gather her buckets. How could he hope to explain his feelings to her when he didn't understand them himself?

“Let me do that.” Caeden followed her to the river's edge.
He took the buckets from her and filled each one. “I'll carry them back for you.”

Emily looked at him for a moment, then nodded. She started up the icy trail with Caeden following close behind. His thoughts churned and refused to let him put the matter to rest.

What if he had completely misread her response? Perhaps she truly didn't feel anything for him. It was possible that in her grief and vulnerability, Emily had been unprepared for his advance.

Caeden let out a sigh and shook his head. He was no better than Davies, who'd tried to forcibly impose his will on Emily. It hadn't been his intention to act in such a manner, but something had happened to him when he held Emily in his arms. Something that made him want to protect her—to love her.

They reached the cabin, and Caeden quickly entered to deposit the buckets. Henry was standing over the stove pouring himself a cup of coffee. He threw Caeden and Emily a broad smile.

“I see you found her. Coffee's ready.”

Caeden put the buckets down. “I'm afraid I need to be on my way. I've appreciated your hospitality, and if I have a chance to come this way again, I hope I might be welcome again.”

“Of course you'll be welcome,” Henry replied, “but I can't be sendin' you off without something to eat.”

“I'll eat in Utica. I have business to settle up there and then the stage to catch. I'm afraid I've already taken too much time.”

He wouldn't allow himself to look at Emily. He worried that his comment might hurt her by suggesting she hadn't been worth the time. He worried too much about everything associated with Emily. It was time that he stopped this nonsense and got on with his job.

“You're always welcome here, Caeden Thibault, but I think
you already know that.” Henry crossed to where he stood and extended his hand. “It's been a pleasure knowin' you.”

“Likewise.” Caeden shook the older man's hand and then turned and headed for the door.

He left to finish loading his horse with all the gear he'd brought. There was so much he wanted to say to Emily, but he knew it would be foolish. They were just two people who had happened to cross paths and enjoyed each other's company. It happened all the time, to hear people tell it. Caeden tied down his saddlebags and frowned.

“But it's never happened to me . . . until now.”

T
he small cabin seemed even smaller without Caeden around. Emily wasn't sure how that could happen. It seemed logical that losing a person from such a tiny space would make that room seem bigger. But it was just the opposite.

Her father quickly put himself back into the routine of panning for his fortune while Emily tried to figure out what to do with herself. Without her mother to care for, her days seemed empty. She baked and cleaned and even mended some of the donated clothes they'd received, but it was never enough to keep her mind occupied. At times she would go with her father to dig up dirt to be sluiced. Unfortunately, she found it sometimes awkward, even painful, as they both seemed to be trying hard not to say or do anything to remind the other of their loss.

Thinking about Caeden was something Emily was determined not to do, but her heart had other thoughts on the matter. She found herself at the most inopportune times remembering something he'd said or did. Mostly, she couldn't forget what it was like to be in his arms—so safe and warm.

Once when she'd been about fifteen, Emily remembered asking her mother what it felt like to fall in love. Her mother had considered the question for a moment and then replied, “It feels like your insides are being pulled to the outside. You can't think clearly because all of your thoughts are about the person you love, and you wonder if you'll ever be able to feel whole again—without them.”

The memory pierced her heart. “Then I'm in love,” she whispered to no one.

Falling in love with Caeden had been the last thing on her mind—the last thing she had ever intended to happen. All of these years she had guarded her heart with great care. She had dressed in a dowdy fashion to disguise her figure and looks, and she had avoided men at all costs. To her way of thinking, Emily had built a rather tidy wall between her and the possibility of love. So how was it that one young man could come along and completely knock down her fortress?

“Yo at home, Miss Emily?”

At the sound of Millie's voice, Emily immediately opened the cabin door. “This is certainly a surprise.” She stepped back. “Come on in.”

Millie carried a bundle, which she handed over to Emily. “Some folks done heard 'bout de fire and left dese for yo.”

Emily took the offering to the table and spread it out. There was a man's shirt—stained, but otherwise in good shape. There was also a pair of long underwear, which she was certain her father would appreciate. Last of all there was a woman's blue calico blouse.

“This was very generous of them.” She held up the blouse for size. It looked perfect. “I wish I could have thanked them.”

“I done tol' dem yo'd be mighty glad to have dem.” Millie grinned her toothy grin. “Oh, I gots yo sumptin too.” She
reached into her pockets and drew out two cans of peaches. “Thought yo pa would like to have dem.”

Emily smiled. “He will. Caeden purchased quite a few things for us before he left, but peaches weren't among them.”

“Dat young man's shore gwanna be missed.”

Emily put the blouse back with the other things and got to her feet. “I have some coffee. Would you like a cup?”

“Shore. I's feelin' the cold in my bones.”

“Pa said the same thing. I don't know how much longer he'll be able to keep mining. He's still so convinced that he'll strike it rich, so he keeps on trying. I think he's unwilling to face the truth.”

“I'm 'fraid I agrees with him. I'm shore der's gold to be had. Dat's why I keep workin' at it too. But I'm thinkin' dat ain't de problem now.”

Emily brought Millie the coffee and caught the knowing look on her face. The older woman seemed to understand exactly what the problem was. Turning back to the stove, Emily poured herself a cup and hoped Millie would just let the matter be. She didn't.

“I figures yo be missin' Mr. Caeden.”

Emily didn't want to lie, but neither did she want to admit her feelings. “He was a great help to us. Pa was able to lay in quite a bit of wood for the winter with Caeden's help. He will sure be missed.”

Millie took a sip of coffee, then fixed Emily with a stern expression. “Yo gwanna miss him for mo' dan dat. Yo can't be losin' someone yo love and not feel bad.”

Great Falls was just as Caeden had remembered it. The bustling of the small city was nothing compared to those
back east, but it seemed a world of difference from Yogo City and Utica.

He had arranged to arrive a full day in advance of Bishop Arnold and checked into the railroad hotel, hoping for a chance to have a hot bath and sleep in a real bed. However, once he'd had the bath, his stomach changed his mind about sleeping. He was starved and realized he'd had very little to eat since leaving Utica.

He dressed in his clean shirt and pulled on his jacket. His casual manner of dress would never have worked at the finer dining tables in Albany, but here he knew he'd be excused. He liked that about Montana. It seemed no matter a man's state of dress, he was welcome just about anywhere.

The downstairs restaurant wasn't at all busy, so Caeden found himself quickly seated and served. He ordered a thick steak with all the trimmings and sipped on a cup of strong coffee while he waited. And all the while he did what he'd done since leaving Yogo City. He thought of Emily.

He'd been unable to get her out of his mind, and even as he'd dozed on the stage, it was her image that filled his dreams. Caeden tried to rationalize that he was just worried about her and her father. He cared about them. He could easily admit that much. They had been good to him, and he had enjoyed their company. That was all there was to it, he reasoned. But his heart told him otherwise, and the battle that ensued threatened to steal away all pretense of peace.

I can't be in love with her. I can't think about marrying her. It would
be disastrous. We don't want the same things
.

“Thibault. I didn't expect to meet up with you until tomorrow.”

Caeden looked up to find not only Bishop Arnold in his fine gray wool suit, but his daughter Catherine as well. She looked
quite pretty in a traveling suit of plum and a blouse of shimmering gold silk. She smiled at him with a look that suggested she knew she was beautiful and that he had noticed.

Getting to his feet, Caeden knew he had no choice but to invite them to join him. It wasn't what he wanted, and he even thought for a moment of telling them he was just leaving. But, of course, the waitress would surely comment on his meal, and that would reveal his lie.

“Won't you join me?” He offered Catherine a chair, then reclaimed his own as Bishop Arnold settled in opposite him.

“This is most fortuitous,” Arnold began. “We came in only this morning.”

Caeden nodded and motioned the waitress to the table. “We have two more for supper,” he explained.

The Arnolds inquired about their dining choices and settled on ham steaks, potatoes, and creamed peas. Catherine requested tea, while her father nodded toward Caeden's cup.

“Bring me coffee. Black.” He ordered rather than requested it, and the waitress looked surprised.

Caeden felt sorry for the woman. “I'd like another cup as well, if you would be so kind. And please bring some cream.”

The woman smiled at him. “I'll bring it right away.” She hurried from the table and disappeared into the back.

Caeden had no desire to pretend to be glad at Arnold's summoning. He decided he would push the older man to get right to the point. “So what is it you need of me?”

Arnold seemed surprised. “We needn't talk business just yet. Catherine would never forgive me if I didn't allow you time to share about your adventure here and when you plan to return home to tend to your father's industries and business affairs.”

Catherine leaned closer to Caeden. “You have been sorely missed.” She lowered her face just a bit and looked up at him
through thick lashes. “We haven't seen much of you since your father's passing. I hope you have plans to return for the holiday season. I would very much enjoy attending the Christmas parties with you.”

Caeden shook his head. “I have no plans to return to Albany except to put my father's estate on the market. My uncle will see to the details of that, however, so I doubt I'll be there more than a few days.”

Her very perfect mouth formed into a pout. “But that would be perfectly awful. Surely you will take time out to see your sisters and spend Christmas with your family.”

“I have no plans for that.” Caeden looked to Arnold. “Is that why you've summoned me here? To ensure that I accompany Catherine during the Christmas season?” He knew his words were harsh and could see that he'd offended Catherine, but he honestly didn't care.

The waitress returned with drinks and cream. Caeden added a liberal amount to his coffee and waited for Bishop Arnold to continue. With any luck at all he could deal with all of this tonight and be free of the man. And his daughter.

“There's no need to be hard-hearted,” Arnold replied. “Catherine naturally wishes to be with the man she plans to marry. As for me,” he said hurriedly, no doubt to give Caeden no chance for protest, “I have critical political matters to discuss. Next year is an important election year, and we need to ensure that the right people get into office.”

“The right people?” Caeden gave the man a hard look. “I presume you are including yourself in that matter.”

Arnold laughed. “Exactly true. But, of course, my political ambitions have long been known. Your father knew of them and approved them heartily. He knew it would be most useful to have a senator who was also a good and trusted friend.”

“Given his way of doing business, I'm sure that was true.” Caeden saw the waitress approaching with plates of food and waited until she had set them down and was gone before continuing. “I would remind you, Mr. Arnold, that I am not my father. Nor do I have any interest in politics.”

Catherine sat by quietly as she'd been trained to do, but it was obvious she held great interest in the conversation.

“Caeden,” Bishop Arnold began, “since your father's death I have felt a certain obligation to . . . well . . . watch over you and ensure you make sound choices and business decisions. I know your father would have wanted you to be a community leader. Thibault Industries have greatly benefited New York, if not the world. Yours is a name to be revered and honored. Men will look to you for advice and direction.”

“My father's name was more feared and dreaded than revered and honored,” Caeden said, cutting into his steak. “It's a name I have long considered changing. As for my father, I don't really care what he wanted.”

Arnold looked at him as if he'd gone mad. “I am certain you jest. It's your youth that has given you such thoughts, although I know that you and your father did not always see eye to eye. I often encouraged Archibald to give you a long lead so you could experience the world and the frivolities that so interest young people. However, I also assured him the time would come when you would mature and desire to follow in his footsteps.”

“Well, you were certainly wrong on that account. I want nothing to do with my father's footsteps. If I were to follow anyone, it would be my uncle.”

“Ah yes,” Arnold said, looking most uncomfortable, “Jasper Carrington.”

Caeden's uncle had never had use for Arnold and made no bones about it. He thought the man underhanded and devious,
and Caeden agreed. When his father announced that Caeden would wed Catherine Arnold, it was Uncle Jasper who had calmed Caeden's rage. He'd reminded the eighteen-year-old that no one could force him to marry anyone he didn't want to marry.

They ate in silence for some time. It seemed to Caeden that the mention of his uncle and his own unwillingness to desire power were things Arnold could not deal with easily. As far as Caeden was concerned, the matter was closed. If this was what had brought Arnold all this way, then he could just return on the next train.

Catherine Arnold poured cream into her tea and stirred it in such a delicate manner that the spoon made no contact with the china cup. Caeden thought her a very beautiful and gentle woman, but he had no interest in becoming her husband.

As if realizing that Caeden was thinking of her, Catherine smiled at him. She seemed delighted just to be in his presence. Touching her hand to her blond hair, Catherine's green eyes never left his. “Travel has definitely left me feeling rather unkempt.” She lowered her hand and picked up her fork once again. “But I wouldn't have missed a chance to see you again. I must say the vast outdoors seems to agree with you.”

Caeden knew she was trying hard to calm the tensions between him and her father. He thought on the matter only a moment before giving her a slight smile. “I find that I prefer the frontier to the overly crowded eastern cities. People are less concerned with their appearance out here. They practice great kindnesses that I've never witnessed in New York. I very well might settle here.”