Page 72 of Mail-Order Bride Substitute
Olivia sank to the nearest chair and buried her face in her palms. “I’ve destroyed everything.”
Matt patted her shoulder. “It’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”
“I knew better.” She sobbed brokenly. “Sylvia told me to never throw water on a fat fire.” She bolted to her feet. “Did I ruin the stove?” Muddy ashes covered the surface. The chops were bits of charcoal. There were no cracks that she would see but the top appeared to be warped.
“I’ve wrecked his stove.”
Matt and Luke patted her on the shoulder as they left.
Gwen stayed. “It’s still useable.”
Her words offered little in the way of consolation. “I wanted to make him a special meal for tonight. I was—” She stopped. No one needed to know her plan to tell him of the love in her heart.
It didn’t matter anymore. She wasn’t the sort of woman he needed.
Gwen offered to help clean up. Olivia almost refused but then reconsidered. The least she could do was leave the place clean.
As soon as Gwen left, Olivia picked up her uncle’s letter and dumped out the money. She stared at the amount and made up her mind about what she must do.
18
Riley rode out to the camp. He unloaded the supplies, downed a cup of coffee Boots handed him, refused the invitation to join the cowboys for dinner, and rather than head home, he rode further west. He still had not come up with words he thought would convince Olivia it was best if she returned east.
He groaned so loud King sidestepped.
“Nothing to do with you, old friend,” he murmured.
How was he to convince Olivia to leave when he wanted her to stay?
This wasn’t about what he wanted. It was what was best for Olivia.
He rode onward until he reached a grove of trees where he dismounted. He paced along the perimeter. “Lord, God,” he shouted. “I need words and courage to do this. You helped Olivia in her time of need. I’m begging you to help me.”
The sky was brittle with silence. A breeze whispered across the grass but carried no words with it.
Riley sank to the ground. He wasn’t leaving until he knew what he needed to say. Until God answered his prayer. Oh, if only he had the faith his mother had.
A moving dot appeared from the foot of the mountains. After a time, he made out a mounted man with a pack horse in his wake. With nothing else to do and a healthy dose of caution and curiosity, he kept his gaze on the rider. Soon he made out the bulk of the man and the furry hat he wore. Appeared he was a mountain man. They saw such occasionally. In fact, Luke had met one earlier in the year. The man had left Kit with Luke.
Riley scrambled to his feet as the rider drew closer.
“Howdy,” he called when they were within shouting distance of each other.
The big man waved his hand in a wide salute and drew to a stop. His gaze bored into Riley. Riley narrowed his eyes and studied the man equally hard.
The mountain man spoke first. “You know the Shannon place?”
“I do. Who’s asking?”
“Hob McCoy.” He swung to the ground. “Reason I’m asking is I left a young lad with Luke Shannon and his wife. Like to know how the lad is doing.”
“Kit. He’s fine.” Riley introduced himself as Luke’s brother.
“Mind if I sit a spell?” Hob asked and without waiting for a reply sat cross-legged on the ground.
The hill sloped away from them, and Riley sat by the man, his legs stretched out in front of him.
“Now tell me how Kit is. Healthy and all?”
