Page 37 of A Calder at Heart


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“I know . . .” Gerda gasped out the words between sobs. “But we were going to get married. He was going to ask my father. Now he says he can’t marry me . . . It’s because he can’t work. He can’t support a wife.”

Kristin stroked the girl’s quivering back. “But surely you can wait two months to get married. Lars will take him back, especially since Ezra is going to be your husband.”

Gerda cried harder, sobs racking her body. “No, it’s worse than that. Ezra’s family is moving to California. His father can get a good job there. Ezra was going to marry me and stay here. Now . . . now he wants to go with them.” Her fists pounded the sofa cushions. “I think he wanted to go all along. Now he’s got an excuse. What am I going to do? I love him. And I don’t want to be an old maid like Britta. I’d rather die!”

“My dear girl!” Kristin pulled Gerda up and gathered her close. “You’re so young. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. When the time comes to marry, you’ll have your choice of fine men. Meanwhile, you’ve got time to make something of yourself. You could learn things by working here. You could even go away to school, like I did. There’s more to life than just getting married.”

But wise as the words were meant to be, they were clearly not what the girl wanted to hear. Her tears soaked the lapels of Kristin’s jacket. Her shoulders heaved with heart-rending sobs. Glancing out the window, Kristin saw her next patient, an elderly woman, hobbling up the sidewalk.

“That’s enough, Gerda.” She thrust the girl away from her. “Go into the bathroom and wash your face with cold water. If you can’t stop crying, leave. Take a walk or go home. And don’t come back until you’ve got yourself under control. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Gerda fled down the hall to the bathroom. As Kristin escorted her elderly patient back to the surgery, she heard the water running, followed by the opening and closing of the back door. The girl would be all right, she told herself. She just needed some fresh air and a little time to calm down.

Kristin had finished examining the woman and was refilling the bottle of iodine tablets her patient was taking for goiter when she heard the Model T pull around the house and into the shed. Logan had said he would leave the key under the seat without coming back inside. Still, she couldn’t suppress a flicker of hope that he’d change his mind. Maybe if they had a chance to talk, they could at least remain friends. But that wasn’t to be. Moments after the auto stopped running, she heard the sound of his horse trotting away, fading into silence.

* * *

The sunlight made rainbow blurs of Gerda’s tears as she trudged back toward the main part of town. She didn’t know where she was going, and she didn’t care. This was the worst day of her life.

She’d been so sure that Ezra loved her. He’d told her so when he’d asked her to marry him. But he’d lied. He’d only wanted one thing, and now he was leaving.

How could she face her friends? She’d told them all that Ezra was going to marry her. She’d even made drawings of the wedding dress she planned to make. How could she face the town when the gossip spread, as it always did? She wanted to die. Maybe if she wished it hard enough, she would.

A shiny, black automobile, heading north out of town, passed her on the far side of the road. Gerda, who’d forgotten her hat at the doctor’s, turned away to hide her face from the driver.

But he’d already noticed her. Twenty yards up the road, he slammed on his brakes, swung the auto around in a cloud of dust, and approached on Gerda’s side of the road. When he came abreast of her, he stopped.

“Are you all right, miss?”

Gerda hadn’t turned to look at him, but his deep, mellow voice sounded familiar. She didn’t reply.

“Wait, I know you,” he said, chuckling. “We met a few weeks ago in the store. You told me where to find the cinnamon.”

She turned her gaze toward him then, recalling the broad-shouldered stranger in the leather jacket. He was as handsome as she remembered. “Did you find it?” she asked, cocking her head and giving him a coy smile. She might be disgraced, but she hadn’t forgotten how to flirt.

He laughed. “I guess it’s confession time. I wasn’t looking for cinnamon or anything else. I just wanted an excuse to speak to the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. You looked like an angel standing there, with the sunlight shining on your golden curls. You still do.” His gaze narrowed. “But I know tears when I see them. Is something wrong?”

She shook her head. “Just a bit of bad news. I’ll get over it.”

“I’d be glad to help you do that,” he said. “I’m going to Miles City on an errand for my mother. If nobody’s waiting for you at home, why don’t you come along? The hotel there has an elegant restaurant. We could enjoy a late lunch and get to know each other. Then I could drive you home. What do you say?”

Gerda hesitated, but only for a moment. Why shouldn’t she go with him? He was only offering her a ride and a nice lunch. She was a free woman now. And since she was supposed to be at work, her parents would never find out. “All right,” she said. “As long as we come right back after we eat.”

“Of course we will.” He stepped out of the automobile and walked around to open the door for her. “My name is Mason Dollarhide, by the way. And I can’t wait to learn all about you.”

* * *

Mason sighed as he gazed across the table at the vision who was polishing off a strawberry tart with the gusto of a lumberjack.Gerda Anderson. Lord help him. He should have guessed that she was Hanna’s sister. She had the same cornflower eyes and spun gold hair. But she was even prettier than Hanna had been at that age—pretty enough to be in the movies or on stage at the Ziegfeld Follies.

But Mason had learned some hard lessons in the dozen years since he’d seduced Hanna and fathered her baby. And those lessons had taught him the value of caution. Her smile, the tilt of her lovely head, and the not-quite-accidental nudge of her foot against his under the table assured him that the lass could be made willing. But she was too young for him—and worse, she was the daughter of big Lars Anderson, who would skin him alive if Mason were to lay a hand on her.

Did she know about the past? Probably not. She would have been a child when he was involved with her sister. But now that he was back in Blue Moon, other family members would likely tell her, and that could mean trouble. One more reason to give this tempting morsel a pass.

And there was another reason. The business he’d started at the ranch demanded his full attention. One slip-up could land him in jail. The last thing he needed right now was the distraction of a woman in his life. Still, she was so pretty, and so adorably naive. A little flirting, maybe even a few kisses wouldn’t do any harm—even if he had to draw the line at that.

She put down her dessert fork and dabbed her mouth with a linen napkin. “Thank you for the delicious lunch,” she said, a glint of invitation in her eyes.

“You’re very welcome.” He helped with her chair and offered an arm to escort her outside to the waiting auto. “And now, my angel, it’s time to drive you home,” he said.

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