With the help of the broad step and a little time, she settled comfortably into the covered wagon.
Gideon climbed onto the driver's bench.
Then they started toward town.
The mountains were beautiful after the storm.
Snow covered the higher ridges.
The lower valleys shimmered with frozen puddles.
And the pines stood dark against the pale winter sky.
For much of the journey, they spoke about ordinary things.
The bakery.
The horses.
The repairs Gideon wanted to make before spring.
But every few miles, his hand moved toward the pocket holding Matthew's watch.
Elena noticed.
She didn't mention it.
She knew he was afraid that the stranger would turn out to be an impostor.
Or worse, that Matthew truly was alive and had spent a decade believing Gideon abandoned him.
The thought frightened her too.
When the town finally appeared, Gideon grew quiet.
He drove directly toward the bakery.
A few people stopped to stare.
The mountain beast bringing Elena Whitmore home.
Some whispered.
Others smiled uncertainly.
A man outside the feed store nudged his companion.
Gideon saw them.
His expression tightened.
Elena looked toward him.
“Don't.”
He frowned.
“What?”
“Don't let them ruin a perfectly good afternoon.”
He stared.
She smiled.
“They'll talk regardless.”
Gideon looked toward the bakery.
Then laughed softly.
“Suppose they will.”
He helped her down.
Together, they entered through the broad rear entrance he'd built months earlier.
The bakery smelled of cinnamon and fresh bread.
An assistant named Rose had been managing the shop while Elena was stranded at the ranch.
She hurried into the storeroom when she heard their voices.
“Elena!”
Her expression filled with relief.
“Thank heaven!”
Elena smiled.
“I'm perfectly all right.”
Rose glanced toward Gideon.
Then back at her employer.
A knowing little smile appeared.
Elena's cheeks reddened.
“Rose.”
The assistant raised both hands.
“I didn't say anything.”
Gideon looked confused.
Elena sighed.
“Don't start.”
Rose laughed.
Then became serious.
“Somebody's been asking about you.”
The room went quiet.
Elena looked toward her.
“Who?”
“A man from Rusk's office.”
Gideon's expression hardened.
Rose continued.
“He came yesterday afternoon. Said he needed to speak with you about a customer.”
Elena frowned.
“Which customer?”
“He wouldn't say.”
Gideon stepped closer.
“What did he look like?”
Rose described a tall man in a dark coat.
Clean-shaven.
Expensive gloves.
A silver-headed walking stick.
Gideon recognized him.
Martin Voss.
Rusk's chief clerk.
He had handled freight contracts and property papers for years.