He pressed his hand against the door. Letting them stay another hour or two wouldn’t hurt anything, would it?
He stuffed both hands into his pockets, slowly pivoted, then stopped.
Something was off. They should have heard his footsteps, at the very least his voice. What if she’d taken his instructions to be gone by dawn seriously after all? Had she left?
Without bothering to knock or call out another greeting, he pushed open the kitchen door. Even with only the faint light of dawn to illuminate the room, he could tell they weren’t there.
He maneuvered to the worktable to light the lantern, only to discover it was gone.
Maybe they were using the outhouse.
He made his way to the back door and stepped outside onto the stoop. He scanned the yard, garden, shed, outhouse, and even the field beyond. Everything was dark with no sign of a lantern light.
Had they gone upstairs to one of the bedrooms?
With his pulse charging forward, he reentered the house, found another lantern and lit it, then made his way through each room. As he returned to the front hallway without a sign of them anywhere, a strange tension twisted through him.
He went to both barns and searched among the stalls and haylofts. After scouring every possible spot they could have gone, he halted in the ranch yard, the morning light softly cascading over mountains and glistening on the pine trees with their fresh layer of frost.
Violet had definitely taken his instructions to heart and departed from the ranch. “Good riddance,” he whispered into the chilly morning air. But even as he spoke, the tension inside him only tightened.
The temperatures were still too cold for the women to be outside for long. Violet wouldn’t want Hyacinth to suffer again as she had last night. Did that mean she’d gone back home?
What if she’d been telling him the truth about her father wanting them to become dance girls at one of the saloons? It sounded too far-fetched to be even the least bit true. Not for a respectable man like Mr. Berkley. Even if he’d gotten into financial trouble due to gambling, he wasn’t the sort of man who would subject his daughters to such degrading work.
On the other hand, what reason did Violet have for making up a story like that?
Sterling shifted his gaze toward the lane that led through the ranch and out to the main road to Breckenridge. He knew exactly how he could clear up the confusion. He would go directly to the Berkley residence and speak with Mr. Berkley about the matter.
Sterling blew out a breath of exasperation. Why was he allowing himself to care? Violet wasn’t his problem. She’d chosen to end things with him. Let her figure out her life on her own.
But even as the bitter thoughts pushed to the front of his mind, his heart pulsed with the need to make sure she was okay. His pesky heart.
The truth was, he had always let his heart have too much importance…and look where that had gotten him in the past. Hadn’t he learned that he couldn’t let his heart dictate his decisions? Especially not with Violet.
Putting his head down, he forced himself to walk toward the cattle barn. He had dying cattle and his herd to save. He was too busy to worry about Violet. That was all there was to it.
5
She’d stolen from the Nobles. There was no getting around that fact.
Violet dragged her skis through the wet snow, the self-reproach of her thieving slowing her down. She’d also gone slower because Hyacinth was behind her and using skis for the first time.
Thankfully, her sister was a quick learner and had easily caught on to the sliding motion of the long wooden skis and the propelling effort with the wooden pole. Hyacinth hadn’t complained once over the past couple of hours of traveling. Of course, they’d had to stop occasionally for breaks, especially because their bags were burdensome. But they’d managed to have some fun skiing down a few of the hills, allowing the momentum to take them faster.
Now, from the widening of the pastureland ahead, Violet recognized the area along the creek and knew they were getting close to the miner’s cabin. They finally had full daylight, with sunlight against the snow almost blinding them. They certainly no longer needed the lantern she’d taken.
Yes, she’d stolen the lantern, matches, and food. At the time, when she’d been stuffing the few staples into their bags, she had justified her actions, mollifying herself with the assurance that Sterling and the whole Noble family would offer her the goods if they could understand the desperation of her situation.
As it was, Sterling hadn’t believed her and hadn’t cared even the slightest about her predicament. She should have known that would be the outcome of her visit, that he would hate her with as much passion as he’d once loved her.
A part of her had obviously been in denial over how much she’d hurt him. She’d been going about her life and focusing on her own problems without considering the depth of his feelings and his reaction to all that had happened.
With a huff of frustration at herself, Violet dug her pole into the snow and slid forward, first on one ski, then the next, before lifting her pole and repeating the motions, edging closer to the creek. At least the morning was clear, and although the air was frigid, her limbs and toes and fingers weren’t quite as cold as they’d been last night, probably because the trek had been strenuous enough that, at times, perspiration had formed on her brow.
If only she’d been able to leave Noble Ranch without taking anything beyond the skis. But the need to save herself and Hyacinth had taken precedence.
Even these hours later, after hearing her father’s acquiescence to Claude’s plan, Violet couldn’t grasp just how deplorable it was that the man who claimed to love his daughters had so readily given them over to another man.
