by Linda Ford
Judd simply couldn’t believe the man wasn’t working some angle.
Having Madge at the Sterling house two afternoons a week forced Judd to be a lot more careful about watching the place. She often stayed to clean up the evening meal, forcing Judd to stay out of sight until she left for home.
He was caught between avoiding her and wanting to spend every moment with her.
The next day, Sally handed Madge a covered dish hot from the oven. “Would you take this to the Burns family? And see if they need anything.”
Madge hesitated. “The laundry.”
“There’s only some sheets to iron. I’ll look after that. They know you better than me. They’d rather see you.”
Madge nodded. “I’ll go. I’ve been wondering about them.” She headed out to the car.
Judd rose. “I’ll come along, if you don’t mind.”
Madge stopped midstride. She turned slowly. He followed her glance around the room. Why did Louisa purse her lips and Mrs. Morgan send some kind of silent warning to Madge? Had they taken note of his evening absences and wondered if he conducted some shameful business? He wished he could assure them such was not the case, but he couldn’t. Not without revealing far too much of his true identity. “I’d like to see how Quint is doing and the rest of the family, too, of course.”
Another silent message passed between Madge and her mother, then Madge nodded. “Of course you must reassure yourself as to how they’re doing.”
So a few minutes later he sat beside her in the car, the succulent aroma of the hot dish filling the interior. Even though he’d already eaten, his taste buds were tempted.
He wanted to say things from his heart, but Madge quickly began to fill in the silence. After a few minutes of listening to her chatter, he decided she was purposely making it impossible for him to speak of anything important, and he settled back to listen. He would get a chance. He’d see to it. He had it on his mind to tell her how his affection for her was developing. Hopefully she would admit similar feelings.
His teeth stung as she talked of her growing regard for Mr. Gratton. She’d be shocked and dismayed to learn he was the man Judd wanted to bring to justice, but she’d understand when Gratton revealed his true colors. Meanwhile, he needed to concentrate on what she said.
“Joanie hoped Conrad would see this was a good time to ask her to marry him. They’ve been together since they were fourteen. But no, he says it wouldn’t be honoring his mother’s memory if he tried to replace her so soon. Pshaw. Mrs. Burns would be the first to agree Connie has waited long enough. The whole family would benefit from having Connie married. ’Twould stop the old ladies in town from grumbling about the two little girls needing a proper home.”
“They’re still at that? I thought they’d have let it drop by now.”
She laughed. “You mean after you set them straight at the funeral?”
“I figured I made my point very clear.”
“Oh, you did, indeed.” She sobered much too quickly. “Some people aren’t happy unless they are stirring up trouble.”
“Does Conrad know about this?”
“Joanie told him. Thought it would persuade him to reconsider, but he said it wouldn’t be fair to expect her to take over so much responsibility. Said they would manage as they were and no one would be taking his little sisters.”
“No reason they should.” The idea of someone trying made him as angry as hearing Gratton had stolen his mother’s savings. “Where is the justice in this world?”
She slowed the car to look at him. “Judd, you showed justice when you defended the family and when you stood by them after their mother’s death. We see glimpses of justice every day. Or maybe, more importantly, we see evidence of mercy. God’s mercy.”
“How is that evident in the drought?”
“Even in the drought He has not forsaken us. I believe the fact I am able to find feed for the cow and her calf, or earn enough money to pay the mortgage, is surely evidence of God’s continuing care.”
“I suppose I don’t have your kind of faith.”
“What kind do you have?” She held his gaze, demanding, searching.
He wanted to look away but found he couldn’t. He wanted to throw all his doubts out the window and believe as he once had—before he’d drifted so far away, before he’d decided he would see Gratton pay for his deeds.
For a moment he wrestled with the promise of peace in trusting everything to God versus the need to exact his own form of justice. But he could not let the man get away with what he’d done. Somehow Gratton must pay and, above all, be prevented from repeating his sly tricks.
They approached the Burnses’ farm, providing him an excuse to deflect her question. “We’re here.”
She flicked him a disappointed look but let the subject go as she drove up the lane to the house. Two little girls burst from the door and rushed to the car to hug Madge and give Judd shy smiles. Mary came to the doorway. “Welcome. Come in.” She looked much better than when he’d seen her at the funeral. In fact, she was a pretty little thing. He suspected Conrad would not have her as surrogate mother for many years. Long enough perhaps to see the little ones able to cope on their own—or perhaps Conrad would come to his senses and marry Joanie.
“Is Quint about?”
“He’s out with Connie trying to put up some hay.”
“Thanks.” He wondered where they would find enough grass to provide hay for the winter. He found them in a low spot behind the barn, cutting Russian thistle and packing it into a stack. The thistle was thorny and difficult to work with. Even though they wore leather guards on their legs and arms, both were scratched and bleeding.
If Madge saw this, she would surely change her mind about justice and mercy.
Seeing him, they eagerly abandoned the job. “We’ll finish later,” Conrad said to Quint. “It’s a wonder we found this patch before it dried up and blew away. It will go a long ways toward feeding the milk cow over the winter.”
Thorny thistles hardly qualified as a blessing in Judd’s opinion, which he decided he’d keep to himself.
Quint seemed to have grown several inches. Judd realized it was because the boy stood straight and tall.
“You’re looking better, apart from all the scratches,” Judd said.
“Feeling better, thanks. I forgot for a little while that God will not abandon us. Connie told me the last thing Momma asked him to do was read a Bible verse. We’re all going to memorize it and remember it when we get discouraged.”
“That’s great.” Madge would be so glad to hear it. He wished again his faith were so clear and strong.
“I don’t know if I’ve got it a hundred percent right, but this is it, Psalm sixty-eight, verse five, ‘A father of the fatherless, and a judge of the widows, is God in His holy habitation.’”
Conrad squeezed Quint’s shoulder. “God will take care of our every need. Isn’t that what Momma always taught us?”
Quint nodded, his eyes filled with trust. “Yes, she did. And I don’t aim to forget.”
Both of them shed their leather guards and torn shirts. Conrad noticed Judd’s curiosity. “We don’t want to upset the girls.” They put on fresh shirts.
They trooped to the house for tea and cookies. Madge and Mary laughed at something as Judd and the boys stepped into the kitchen. Then Madge gave the girl a quick hug. She glanced over Mary’s shoulder, saw Judd, and her eyes seemed to smile deeper, happier, as if she were glad to see him.
His steps faltered. He saw her more clearly than ever before. She had an incredible capacity to love, to believe the best in people, to encourage others and to fight for what was right.
It made her see George Gratton as the man wanted to be seen—a good man with noble purposes.
Judd counted on her sense of justice to make her see the man for what he truly was when Judd revealed the truth.
Madge broke away from the intensity of their locked gaze and waved toward the table.
As soon as everyone was seated, Conrad cleared his throat. “Let’s say grace over our blessings.” He reached his hand toward Mary on one side and Quint on the other. Quint reached for Judd’s hand. Judd had no choice but to reach for Madge’s.
Their gazes met and held in an electric burst that consumed the distance separating them and erased awareness of the others. For an eternal moment all that existed was each other and raw honest feelings between them, then she bowed her head.
His head bowed, he struggled to find solid ground for his thoughts and feelings.
Conrad prayed a simple prayer. Judd opened his eyes, uncertain where to look. His feelings were too strong to let the others guess at them. Looking at Madge would certainly make them more difficult to control. But he couldn’t stop himself from a quick peek in her direction. Had she felt the same shuddering, overwhelming sensation?
But as her glance touched him, then went on to Mary without a spark of anything out of the ordinary, he sucked back disappointment. Seemed he was the only one who had felt the zing between them.
She turned her attention to the tea and cookies, and a short time later, Madge and Judd left, promising to visit again soon.
“They’re doing okay, I think,” Madge said. “Better than I thought they would.” Such ordinary words. Had she really been unaware of the sparks between them that almost seared his skin?
“They’ll do just fine if it depends on them. However, so much depends on crops, rain, prices and a thousand things they have no control over.”
“But God is in control. I asked you earlier what kind of faith you have. You didn’t answer.”
He should have known she wouldn’t forget. He considered his words carefully. “Madge, I once had a simple faith. Childlike. Then life got complicated.”
“In what way?”
“I’m not sure I can explain.”
“Try. I truly want to understand.”
Because she cared and because he wanted her acceptance, he tried to shape his vague thoughts into some sort of sense. “I left teaching because I found it boring and headed west to ranching country. Out there a man lives or dies, fails or succeeds, by his own strength. He counts on only his own wits. I never saw any need of God’s help. Then my mother lost everything, despite her unfaltering faith. All I could think to do was what I’d learned in the west country—take care of the business myself.”
“But where did faith enter the picture?”
“You mean did I consult God? I didn’t. Seems His hands are more than full with trying to fix the problems of the world.”
“You’re suggesting He’s falling down on the job?”
He hadn’t meant for his tone to reveal his doubts, but her words pretty much explained how he felt. “When I see how the Burns family is coping, I am amazed. It almost makes me wish I had their simple faith.”
“Their ‘simple faith,’ as you call it, has been birthed through loss and disappointment, and thrived and strengthened through more adversity.”
“Quint told me about trees…plants…needing wind and storms to grow deep roots.”
“That sounds like something Mrs. Burns would say.”
Judd stared out the window. His self-sufficiency sounded rootless and weak when compared to the Burnses’. But he didn’t know how to change. He’d lived life on his own terms too long. Perhaps Madge realized that and despised it. But he couldn’t change who he was. Wouldn’t even consider it until George Gratton received proper justice.
A sign, weather-beaten and almost buried in drifted soil, caught his attention. “Does that say For Sale?”
“Yes. The old Cotton place.”
“What’s it like?”
“Nice enough, though it’s been empty almost two years. Do you want to see it?”
“I’d like to.”
She jerked to a halt and reversed to the turnoff. “I hope we can get through.” Soil had blown over the trail in many places, but she managed to plow through it until they reached the farmyard.
“Let’s look around.” Something inside him quickened at the stately two-story house, the hip-roofed barn, the row of smaller outbuildings. “Buildings appear solid.”
“Mr. Cotton spared no expense. Borrowed heavily. Now he’s gone.”
They stepped around dirt drifts to the house. He tried the door. It opened with a grating squeal. “They even left some furniture.”
“They took only what they could carry with them. The bank claimed the rest.”
He stepped into the room that had served as kitchen. “A good size.” One door led to a pantry, another to a generous-size room complete with table, chairs and sideboard. The third door—with double-wide sliding panels—led to the front room and off that was a bedroom or parlor or whatever need it suited. “This is fantastic. Why isn’t someone living here?”
“Who can afford to buy it?”
“Let’s go upstairs.” Four bedrooms and a roomy closet opened off the hallway. He couldn’t get over the beautiful house standing vacant.
They returned outside and explored the rest of the buildings. Struggling trees stood behind the house.
A restless yearning grew in Judd’s heart. “I could see myself living here.”
She watched him. “No money in farming.”
He caught her chin and gazed deep into her eyes, seeing the willingness and promises he ached for and feared he would not see. “I could do something else until the economy turned around.”
A flare of interest crossed her face. “I thought you wanted to go back to ranching.”
“I’ve never had a reason to consider anything else.” His fingers rested on her chin. She made no move to put distance between them. For days he’d ached for a chance to be alone with her, share the truth of his growing fondness for her. “Now staying here seems pretty alluring.”
Tiny smile lines creased the edges of her eyes as she correctly interpreted his words to mean the allure was to more than an empty farm.
“I could see myself putting down roots in this place, especially with someone special to share it with.”
She swallowed hard. Her eyelids flickered downward, then jerked up to reveal deep longings.
He caught his breath. “Madge.” Slowly, anticipating each second of preparation, he lowered his head, tipping her chin a little so their lips touched gently, clung briefly. He wanted more. Everything. All of her forever. He wanted to share his life, his heart, his dreams, his all. Longing made his kiss grow more urgent.
“No.” She pushed back, shoulders heaving in frantic gasps. “No. I can’t do this.” She spun around and raced away.
“Madge. What on earth?” He caught her in three strides and pulled her to a halt. She fought him, batting at his hands, rolling her head back and forth. He would not release her. Not without an explanation.
“What’s wrong? It was just a little kiss.”
She broke free again and backed away, her eyes wide, her lips pressed tight. She looked ready to cry.
His heart cracked with concern, and he reached for her. “Madge, whatever it is, I’m sure we can fix it.”
She kept a safe distance between them. “No, we can’t. You. Me.” She shook her head. “No. Louisa—” She broke off and clamped her lips tight. Stubbornness hardened her eyes.
“What about Louisa?”
“Nothing. Only that you are supposed to be her tutor.”
“I am her tutor. What does that have to do with you and me? You aren’t making sense.”
She headed for the car. “Doesn’t matter. You and I just can’t be.”
He grabbed her arm again. “I deserve more than that.” At least he liked to think he did.
Her eyes suggested she wanted to explain. But she said, “I simply can’t tell you more.” She left him standing ankle-deep in a brown drift.
What secret could she be hiding to make love between them impossible?
A niggling doubt made its way to the surface of his thoughts. Was her rejection because of his dupl
icity in continuing to pose as Justin Bellamy? Did her strong morals make him an undeserving suitor because of his continued quest for justice?
If so, he must somehow convince her he was correct in his stand. The best way would be to prove Gratton’s evilness as soon as possible.
Madge waited for him at the car.
“Go ahead. I’ll walk the rest of the way. I need time to think.”
She closed her eyes and sucked in air.
His heart seemed to beat thick syrup. Whatever her reasons, he was not mistaken in thinking her decision hurt her as much as it did him.
He would find an answer to this unnamed problem before it tore them both apart.
Chapter Eight
Madge forced her heavy limbs into the car and grabbed the steering wheel. She sat for a moment, unable to think what she meant to do. Start the car. She did. Head for home. She aimed the car down the trail.
By the time she reached the main road, her shock gave way to weeping, and she pulled to the side and pressed her face to the back of her hands, letting tears drip over the spokes of the steering wheel.
His kiss had been the sweetest thing in the world, making her forget everything but his arms about her, his presence in her heart and the way her whole being wanted to belong to him.
What was she going to do? She pulled her head up. Perhaps if she spoke to Mother, explained how she felt…
She must try. She couldn’t live with this war of longing and guilt inside. Nor could she let herself care for Judd without Mother’s approval.
She lifted her head and snorted. As if she could hope to keep herself from caring. She thought of him with every breath, dreamed of him in every dream. Touring the old Cotton place, she’d thought of sharing each room with him, filling it with their love and hard work.
She’d speak to Mother as soon as she got back home, and if she gave the answer Madge hoped for, she would explain everything to Judd when he returned.