The Road to Love ; Hearts in the Highlands

by Linda Ford

  “There it is,” she called, pointing to the dark line indicating the coulee. Dougie raced ahead. “Be careful,” she called. Then promised herself not to ruin the day with worries.

  “There. Look.” She pointed toward the perfectly round hollow three or four feet in the ground solidly paved with purple flowers crowded in so thick they hid their own leaves. “Your father—” she told Mary “—said this was a buffalo rub. I guess that’s why the violets do so well here.” The air was sweet with the smell of spring. “Impressive, don’t you think?” she asked Hatcher.

  Hatcher shifted his gaze from studying her to the flowers. “Lots of them.”

  She’d caught a look in his eyes making her throat suddenly refuse to work. Tenderness? Longing? Or was it only a reflection of her own emotions? No. She knew what she’d seen. But what did it mean? That he wanted something more than his past provided? Did he need her to convince him he didn’t need to keep running?

  “Hatcher—”

  “Look,” Dougie called. “A hawk’s nest.”

  “Can I pick some?” Mary asked, standing at the edge of the mass of flowers.

  She jerked her attention to her children, her cheeks stinging. Did she think all he needed or required was her permission to stay? If it needed only that, he would have stopped running before the first year on the road ended. Something stronger than the wrongful murder charge drove him.

  Grateful her children had saved her from making a fool of herself, she turned to her daughter. “Let’s get some on the way home.”

  Mary nodded and raced toward Dougie and the hawk’s nest.

  Kate took a step to follow them, stopped, turned her gaze first to the sea of purple then gathering her courage, faced Hatcher. “I hope you can let yourself enjoy the afternoon. I want everyone to have a great time.” She wanted them to have an afternoon full of sweet memories for the future. For a few short hours, she’d let nothing interfere with the joy of sharing this special time with Hatcher.

  His eyes, dark as a moonless night, revealed nothing, his flat expression gave no insights into his thoughts but then his lips curved slightly at the corners.

  It was enough. A quiet whisper of hope brushed her thoughts and she laughed. “Shame to miss what life has to offer.” She held his gaze for a moment.

  He shifted, looked past her, putting a wide chasm between them as effectively as if he had jumped to the far side of the coulee.

  Her pleasure and hope were snuffed out like a candle extinguished.

  “‘The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof; the world and they that dwell therein. For he hath founded it upon the seas, and established—’”

  She cut him off before he could quote the whole book from wherever the verse came. “Stop trying to hide behind your recitation.”

  She knew a wave of gratification when he looked shocked.

  He hesitated only briefly. “Psalm twenty-four.”

  She pursed her lips. “I’ll be sure and check it out.”

  He flashed a glance at her, managing to look both surprised and a tiny bit offended.

  She smiled, her lips taut across her teeth. How she’d like to shake him from his incredible composure.

  “Momma, look.”

  Dougie’s call turned her attention away from Hatcher.

  Her son hovered close to the edge of the bank, peering over the edge at a nest in the tree below. Suddenly he dropped from sight. Mary screamed. Kate gasped and Hatcher raced forward, Kate at his heels.

  She skidded to a halt at the edge of the cliff, as breathless as if she’d run a mile rather than a few steps.

  Dougie clung to bushes four feet down. Solid ground lay twenty feet below.

  Her heart trembled. “Hang on, son,” she called. “I’ll get you.” She stepped closer, swayed at the nothingness below her. She flung her head around looking for something, anything to aid her. A bush, even a good clump of grass to cling to. Saw nothing but dried blades of grass. She could slide down to his side. But how would she get him up. She teetered forward, gasped and leaned back. What if she caused him to fall the rest of the way? She closed her eyes as fear burst through her veins, erupting in hot spots at her nerve endings.

  Hatcher grabbed her elbow and pulled her back. “I’ll get him.”

  The pulsing need to rescue her son wouldn’t let her relinquish the job to another. “He’s my son.”

  “Yes, ma’am. You stand back and let me help him.”

  She turned, saw the dark assurance in his gaze. She trusted him completely. She was safe with him. Her son likewise safe. She nodded.

  Hatcher flopped on his stomach and reached for Dougie. Eight inches separated his hand from Dougie’s. Hatcher edged forward, still couldn’t reach him.

  Kate gasped as Hatcher started to slide. He was going over the edge, too.

  He edged backward to safety.

  “Momma,” Dougie cried, his voice thin with fear.

  Instinctively, Kate knelt at the edge reaching toward him.

  “Stand back,” Hatcher ordered.

  Automatically she obeyed his authoritative voice.

  “I don’t want to have to pull you up, as well,” he said in a softer tone.

  Her limbs felt as if they’d been run through the cream separator as she watched her son struggling to hang on.

  Hatcher sprang to his feet, found two rocks, wedged them solidly into the embankment then dropped to his stomach again.

  When she realized his intentions, her legs gave out and she sank to the parched ground.

  He wormed forward until his shoulders rested on the rocks. As he reached toward Dougie, one rock shifted.

  Mary screamed.

  The sound shredded Kate’s nerves. “Quiet.”

  She didn’t let her breath out until the rock dug into the sod and held.

  Hatcher’s hand reached Dougie. He wrapped his fingers around the boy’s wrist.

  “Grab hold as hard as you can,” he grunted, the sound struggling from compressed lungs.

  Dougie grabbed on and Hatcher began to edge backward.

  The air closed in around Kate, suffocatingly hot, impossible to breathe. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she watched Hatcher pull her son up, inch by inch.

  “Please, God. Please, God. Please, God.” She murmured the words aloud, unable to pray silently.

  Hatcher reached level ground and jerked Dougie over the edge of the embankment to safety.

  Laughing and crying, she grabbed her son, wrapping herself around him. When she could speak, she said, “What were you thinking? You can’t just throw yourself over a cliff and expect to survive.”

  “Momma, I fell.”

  Kate hugged him close. “I know you did but you scared me so badly.” She sank to the grass and pulled Dougie to her lap. Sobs racked her body.

  Tears streaming down her cheeks, Mary threw herself on top of them. They tipped over in a tangle of arms and legs. Tears gave way to laughter.

  Kate hugged both children and looked up at Hatcher. “How can I ever thank you?”

  He smiled. “You just did.”

  At first she thought he meant her words, then noticed his dark eyes sparkled with laughter and realized he meant the amusement of watching the three of them tumbled in a heap.

  He sobered but didn’t blank his expression as he usually did. His dark gaze held hers with unwavering intensity as something eternal occurred between them.

  He shifted, broke the connection. When his gaze returned he had again exerted his fierce mental control.

  Her stomach ground fiercely. She’d wanted to shake him from his composure. It had taken Dougie’s accident to succeed in that. She didn’t know if she should rejoice in his momentary lapse or mourn the fact it was so brief.

  One thing she knew, she didn’t want her son to repeat t
he episode for any reason, not even to bring about a break in Hatcher’s reticence. She scrubbed Dougie’s hair with her knuckles and kissed Mary’s head.

  “I don’t think I’m going to let you out of my sight for the rest of the day,” she warned her son.

  “I’ll be careful,” he promised, leaping to his feet. “Did you see the nest?” He ran over for another look.

  Her heart leapfrogging to her throat, Kate pushed Mary aside and gained her feet in a rush. But Hatcher had already corralled the boy and gently guided him to a safe distance.

  “A man always keeps his eye on what’s ahead, making sure he won’t step into something dangerous.”

  He twitched as if the words had hit a target in his mind.

  He was teaching her son to think before acting but did he think to apply his words to his own life, his past and the crime he’d been accused of, the present and her little family or the future and the open road?

  She glanced around. Her children were safe. Thank God and Hatcher. The sun was warm. The sky blue. The prairie dotted with flowers of purple and yellow. Hatcher chuckled at something Dougie said. If only she could stop time, keep life locked on a day like today, only without Dougie trying to scare her out of ten years.

  If only she could persuade Hatcher to stay.

  Her eyes locked hungrily on him as he played with the children. His hair sorely needed cutting, yet it didn’t detract from his rangy good looks. A man with unquestionable strength. The sort of man she’d gladly share the rest of her life with.

  She gasped and turned away from the sight of him as the awful, wonderful truth hit her.

  She loved him.

  She breathed hard, stilling the rush of emotions reverberating through her veins. She knew with certainty she had never before been in love. She’d cared deeply for Jeremiah. She had a certain fondness for Doyle. But never before had she felt the power of a merciless, consuming love.

  And foolishly, she’d made the mistake of learning the depths of her heart by falling in love with a man who would never stay.

  She leaped to her feet, a boundless energy begging for release. “Let’s play tag,” she called. “Not it.”

  The children quickly called “Not it” and danced away from Hatcher. His expression shifted—surprise, refusal and then mischief. He turned away to stare down the coulee. “Who said I wanted to play?”

  Dougie sidled up to him. “Aww, come on. Play with us.”

  Kate saw it coming and laughed as Hatcher spun around and tagged Dougie. “You’re it.”

  Dougie looked surprised, swallowed hard then headed for his sister but Mary had guessed what was coming and raced away, then turned and headed toward Kate. Squealing, Kate broke into a run, Dougie hot on her heels. When had her son learned to run so fast?

  He tagged her easily.

  She leaned over her knees, catching her breath. Waiting until they all moved in, teasing and taunting her. She continued to pretend to be out of breath until she saw Hatcher out of the corner of her eye. She waited, gauged the distance then sprang at him. He leaped away but she tagged his elbow. “You’re it,” she gloated.

  “Cheater,” he growled. “You were faking.”

  “Part of the game.”

  Hatcher headed for Mary, who screamed and took off at an incredible pace. Kate shook her head. Both her children had grown so much and she’d hardly noticed except to buy new clothes. Dougie bounced around at what he considered a safe distance but suddenly Hatcher veered to his right and lunged at the boy, tagging him before he could escape.

  They played until, breathless from running and weak from laughing, Kate called a halt. “I’m going to melt into a little puddle soon.” She flopped on her back. “Wish we’d brought some water.”

  The children joined her, one on each side and Hatcher sat a foot away, his arms draped over his bent legs.

  “We should take more holidays,” Dougie declared.

  “You are absolutely right.” Kate promised herself she wouldn’t let so much time pass before she played with her children again. She blew out a sigh. “I suppose it’s time to go home.”

  “Aww,” the children chorused.

  “Soon,” Kate said, as reluctant to end the day as they. She sat up. “Days like this remind me why I like the prairie.”

  “I hate the wind,” Mary murmured.

  “It’s okay as long as it isn’t blowing all the dirt around,” Dougie said.

  Kate glanced at Hatcher. Saw her worry reflected in his eyes. It hadn’t rained for days. And then barely enough to settle the surface. All it needed for a dust storm was a hot dry wind. Her hair tugged at her scalp. Had the wind increased as they enjoyed the spring day?

  She pushed to her feet. “We better go.”

  Before they reached the shelter of the farm, a black cloud appeared in the south. Mary started to cry. Kate grabbed Dougie’s hand; Hatcher grabbed Mary’s and they broke into a hard run. Dust stung their eyes as they raced for home. They veered around the barn, found a pocket of wind-free shelter, took in a deep breath and made the last dash for the house. They burst in, pushing the door closed behind them.

  Kate didn’t slow down. “I have to plug the holes.” She grabbed the pail of rags and began dampening them, stuffing them around the window frames. “Here.” She tossed Hatcher a thick rug. “Put this under the door.”

  He looked at the rug, looked at the door, looked at her. “I should go.”

  “Not in this.” The room darkened. The wind screamed like a demented animal. Dirt rattled against the window like a black snowstorm.

  Mary huddled on the chair farthest from the window and sobbed. Kate didn’t have time to deal with her right now.

  Hatcher took a deep breath, glanced around the room as if he thought he’d find some other means of leaving then dropped to his knees and started pushing the rug under the door where fine, brown dirt already made its way in, sweeping across the floor like a stain. “Can’t seem to get it in right. Mary, do you know how to do it?”

  Kate, busy trying to stop the dirt from finding a way in, spared little attention for the others but turned at his request.

  Mary hesitated then slowly went to his side. “It’s easy. Like this.” She knelt beside Hatcher showing him how to push the rug under the door.

  Hatcher glanced up, caught Kate’s gaze on him and managed to look embarrassed and triumphant at the same time.

  She mouthed the words, thank you.

  He shrugged.

  The children would miss him when he left.

  Her eyes stung and she turned away to hide the heat of her love.

  Kate finished and looked around. “It’s the best we can do.” Still dirt sifted across the floor. She would find it in her cupboards, her closet, her shoes.

  Hatcher stood with his back to the door. He twisted his hands, his eyes darted from object to object, everywhere but directly at her.

  “Hatcher.” She kept her voice calm and low. “You’ll stay here until the storm is over.”

  At the reminder of the weather, Mary sobbed.

  Kate grabbed the lantern. “No point in sitting in the gloom. Who wants to play a game?”

  Dougie, at least, looked interested.

  “Do you remember how to play Snakes and Ladders?” Dougie shook his head. Had it been that long since they’d played games together?

  “I do,” Mary said, her tears gone. “Poppa used to play it with us.”

  “That’s right. Your father loved to play games of any sort. It’s still in the hall cupboard.” She went to the hall and found it under layers of coats and blankets. She pressed the box to her nose, remembering Jeremiah’s smell, his delight in games, his competitiveness. She could never beat him and if, occasionally, she did, he insisted on a rematch. She soon learned to let him win so they could go to bed.

  She car
ried the game to the kitchen table and opened it. “Come on, Hatcher. Join us.”

  He hovered at the door.

  Dougie pushed a fourth chair to the table. “You can sit by me.”

  Hatcher hesitated then hung his hat on a nail and shuffled over.

  Kate stifled a smile, amused at his inability to refuse any reasonable request from the children, rejoicing to have him at her table, if only briefly. She’d have the scene to help sustain her in the future. She handed him a game piece and they began.

  Mary quickly recalled how to play. Dougie needed a few instructions but the game was simple enough for even younger children.

  Hatcher, at first, was quiet, stiff. But after he hit a snake and fell back three rows and Dougie laughed, he grew intense, acting like he had to win. She soon realized it was pretense. Mostly he tried to give the children a good time.

  She loved him the more for his goodness to her son and daughter.

  Mary forgot the dark sky, the sharp wind until something solid hit the wall. She jerked forward in her chair. “What was that?”

  Hatcher shrugged. “Someone’s outhouse?”

  Kate laughed. “I hope it was unoccupied.”

  Mary looked startled then offended before she laughed. “You’re teasing me.”

  “Might as well laugh as cry,” Hatcher said.

  Mary blinked. “I guess I’ll laugh then.” And she did.

  It was Dougie’s turn to play. He moved five places, hit a snake and returned to the start. “That’s the third time I got sent back.” He leaned back and stuck out his lips.

  “Be a good sport,” Kate said.

  Hatcher’s turn followed. He hit a snake and returned to the third square. He sat back on his chair. “I’ve been here three times already.” When he imitated Dougie’s pout, Kate laughed.

  Mary was next. She moved, hit a ladder, advanced three rows and smirked.

  It was Kate’s turn. She let out a huge sigh when she hit neither snake nor ladder.

  Hatcher winked at Dougie. “Your turn. You’ve got nowhere to go but forward.”