The Cowboy Tutor
Page 14
“He fixed up this room downstairs. When I asked what was wrong with the bedrooms upstairs, the impudent boy said nothing except they were upstairs, and I wasn’t to set so much as one foot on the steps. Can you imagine him thinking he could boss me around like that?” She turned, caught the way Madge grinned and smiled back. “I let him think he can so he feels better.”
The woman was amazing. She kept up an amusing prattle while she perched on the edge of the bed—in obedience to George’s orders, she said—and supervised Madge unpacking her stuff.
Two hours later, Grace declared she was satisfied with the work. “Now we must have tea. You’ll make it, of course.”
“Certainly.” She enjoyed Grace’s company. They laughed together over tea, and then Grace kept her amused as Madge prepared supper for them.
“Would you stay and eat with us?” Grace asked.
There was a time she would have welcomed the invitation, but now she couldn’t wait to get home and see Judd and share the news of what a delightful woman Grace Gratton was. The others would love hearing of her spark as much as Madge had enjoyed it. She’d get double the pleasure—the firsthand experience and the joy of sharing it with the family and seeing their spirits lift.
Over the following days, Madge and Judd managed to steal some time together every evening. Sometimes it was to deliver laundry. Other times it was to simply sit outside in the shade and talk, usually with Mother or one of her sisters joining them, but occasionally they were left alone. Madge wondered that Louisa didn’t spend every minute possible with them, but she cherished those times alone too much to beg trouble, so she didn’t say anything.
She’d discovered Judd was a great storyteller and a tease. As he recounted tales from his time working as a cowboy, she laughed. But she learned something more. Once Judd set his mind on some action, he didn’t let it go, whether it was riding a horse, bringing a cow in or…bringing to justice the man he blamed for his mother’s financial difficulties. Although the trait was admirable, she couldn’t help but worry how his plan would end. And she prayed he would find peace. Yet when she questioned him, he said he still sought the man.
“Perhaps he isn’t here.” She hoped Judd was mistaken and would drop his quest.
“No. He’s here. I just have to watch.” He would say no more.
Judd also asked about her childhood and her work. His interest made her open up and share things she had almost forgotten—dreams, hopes, failures, disappointments….
She had never felt so safe with anyone before.
The afternoons she worked at Gratton’s were enjoyable, even though they meant she would not see Judd again until after supper.
Her mind drifted from the meal she was preparing for the Grattons, and she stared out the window. She heard the door open as George came in. Grace had gone to her bedroom to rest, and he paused to look in on her.
Madge sighed and pulled her mind back to her task. But just as she started to turn from the window, a movement caught her eye. A man clung to the boards of the fence across the lane. She squinted. It was Judd. Her heart danced for joy. He’d come to wait for her. She hurried through the rest of her work and refused Grace’s invitation to join them.
Outside she waited at her car, but Judd did not appear.
How odd. She delayed her departure until she knew it was useless to linger.
Had she been mistaken? Or had he rushed home to wait for her there?
Her heart bubbled with joy, and she hurried down the road. The family had moved suppertime back so she could eat with them. Mother and the girls sat at the table as she stepped into the room. But Judd was absent. Where was he? If he hadn’t waited for her in town, why wasn’t he here?
Mother provided the information. “Justin said he had things to attend to and wouldn’t be here.” A trickle of suspicion crowded the corners of her mind. What was he doing watching the Gratton place? That would make George…no! It couldn’t be George. Perhaps Judd only hoped for a chance to speak to her.
Madge gave her attention to the food and hoped no one would notice her confusion.
The next day, Judd didn’t mention his absence the evening before, and she would not. It was enough to have him at her side, enjoying the quiet of the evening. Yet he said good-night early, and later, she thought she detected him leaving the soddie. No doubt off to find the man he sought. Again, the uneasy suspicion. Was he watching the Grattons?
It wasn’t possible.
Two days later, she put the finishing touches on supper for Grace and George. Again she stared out the window, and as George came home, she saw Judd lingering in the shadows.
He watched the house. No doubt about it.
Horror filled her thoughts. It made cruel sense. The questions he asked, his interest in what she did at the Gratton house.
Her insides sucked flat as she realized why he was so keen to spend time with her. A cry filled her lungs and remained there, trapped by the awful truth.
“I have to go,” she murmured to Grace and George. They must have wondered at her hasty retreat and the fact that she raced out the back door instead of leaving from the front as she always did.
Judd jerked away from the shadows as she dashed into the yard. He looked about, as if hoping for escape, and then tucked in his chin and spun on his heel.
“Judd, wait!” She would not let him leave without an explanation.
He stopped. She didn’t slow her steps until she stood close enough to see the way his eyelids flickered. Breathing hard, as much from the way her insides twisted as from exertion, she faced him. She knew her expression likely revealed something of what she felt—hurt, anger and a thousand things that defied explanation.
“Why are you watching this house?”
“’Spect you’ve figured it out already.”
“You’re wrong. George is not a bad man like you think.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and looked unimpressed. “If he were obviously evil, he wouldn’t be fooling helpless women, would he?”
“You’re wrong,” she repeated. “But too stubborn to admit it.”
“I’d be glad to admit it if I thought it was true.”
She leaned back, almost drowning in a confusion of protests and realizations. “You used me to spy on them.”
“How do you get that?”
“Maybe everything you said was only to make it easy for you to get information on them.” Anger built like a balloon, ready to burst. “Was that all I was? A way to find out about the Grattons?” The truth of her words burned away her anger. Left her empty. So empty all she could hear was the echo of her silent screaming pain. “From now on you’ll have to do your own dirty work.” She spun around and marched to her car.
“Madge, you know that’s not true. My feelings for you have nothing to do with the Grattons.” He grabbed her arm to force her to stop and listen.
She jerked back. “Your behavior is despicable. How can I believe anything you say?”
His hand fell off and he let her go.
She stifled a cry as she hurried away. Thankfully she had heeded Father’s advice and refrained from telling Judd she loved him. But it didn’t change the fact that she did.
She’d loved foolishly and too eagerly.
Her hand shook as she started the car and drove homeward. How would she put him from her mind? Especially as he would be in the house tutoring Louisa.
She considered speaking to Mother, but why should anyone else pay for Madge’s stupidity?
By the time she reached home, she had come to a decision. She would avoid Judd at all costs and somehow convince her family nothing had happened. Keep busy. Work. That would be her excuse.
Stubbornness had its value, but it could not erase the pain claiming every cell of her body and catching at every breath.
Chapter Eleven
Somehow Madge managed to drive home without crashing into anything or hitting the ditch, though her mind had not been on handling the car. She parked
by habit and stumbled to her room without anyone questioning her.
Numb from head to toe, she lay on her bed, pulled Macat into her arms and stared at the ceiling. How could she have been so easily fooled? Anger burned through her. Judd’s actions were every bit as despicable as those he accused George of—deceiving a woman for his own gain. And he was wrong about George. She knew he was. But then, maybe she was a simpleton when it came to detecting falseness in men. Seems her trust of Judd proved that well enough.
How was she going to see him day after day? It wasn’t like she could walk away. Without her efforts, the family would lose their home.
Oh, God, what am I going to do?
But God did not send an answer.
She sat up and pushed the cat to one side. God didn’t do for a person what they could do for themselves. Comfort and guidance were to be found where she always found them—in God’s word. She pulled her Bible close and read page after page, seeking solace and something more—a way to cope.
Someone came to the house. She recognized Judd’s voice as he spoke to Mother. Despite herself and all her resolve, her heart lurched against her chest like Mouse at the door when he heard Louisa on the other side.
Her feet hit the floor before she realized how foolish it would be to give him another chance, knowing he’d used her to get information on George.
She sank down on the bed, caught Macat in her arms again and buried her face in the warm fur. At least animals were loyal and true. They didn’t pretend one thing while planning another. They simply loved you and let you love them back.
The voices stopped murmuring and the door closed. She tiptoed to the window and peeked out to see Justin limp across to the soddie and duck inside. Justin indeed! Everything about him was false—from his name to his limp to his reasons for pretending interest in her.
He didn’t so much as look over his shoulder to see if she might be at the window.
She knew her annoyance at his failure to do so made no sense, but it robbed her of the last faint hope that he truly might care.
Louisa came up and went to her room. Sally followed. She listened to the girls preparing for bed, heard Mother making rounds to check the house before she retired to her room. Then all was quiet.
All except Madge’s mind. It refused to rest.
She scolded herself for being a fool. A moment later she congratulated herself for never telling him she loved him, though—her cheeks burned at the thought—she’d certainly been free enough with cuddles and kisses. Then sorrow, pain and despair filled her. How would she manage?
Only with God’s help. Trusting Him had never been so challenging. Or so necessary.
She fell asleep praying.
Groggy, she stirred as she heard a car motor in the yard. Then she sighed, rolled over and fell back into a deep slumber.
Sally shook her awake. “Madge, wake up.”
She struggled from a troubled sleep. There was some reason she must speak to Judd, something she had to say, but he kept dancing in and out of reach, leaving her frantic. It took her a moment to realize her thoughts were but a dream and Sally stood over her talking.
“Are you okay? You don’t ever sleep in like this, especially when you have so much laundry. I’ve filled the tubs but…”
“What time is it?”
“It’s gone past seven.”
Madge leaped from the bed. “You should have wakened me before.” She hurried into her work clothes and raced down the stairs and outside to start the laundry. She’d never get it all done today.
Sally followed. “We haven’t had breakfast yet. We waited for you.”
She would have refused, but she couldn’t stop eating in order to avoid Judd. Girding a protective shell around her, she marched indoors.
The table was set for four.
Mother noticed her interest. “Justin told me last night he had family things to attend to and wouldn’t be returning.”
Relief scoured through her insides, followed by painful regret. Would she never see him again?
She held her chin high, determined not to reveal any hint of her pain and confusion.
Somehow she ate, did the laundry, packed heavy baskets up and down the stairs. The work was endless. She barely finished in time for supper, then had to make the deliveries.
In town, she passed the Gratton place, slowing to a crawl and checking out the back lane where she’d seen Judd.
She didn’t see him. She didn’t care. She never wanted to see him again. And if he hurt Grace or George…
But the pain clawing at her insides could not be denied.
The next day she was due to work at the Grattons’. Grace noted her mood immediately.
“Why the sad countenance? Some man done you wrong?”
Grace’s touch of resignation made Madge smile for the first time since she’d discovered Judd’s deceit. “Why must it be a man?”
“Because you are a woman. And until today the trials of the current situation in the country have not bothered you. I’m not so old I don’t remember what it was like to be young and in love. Why, I fell in love with George’s father when I was fourteen. Even told him so. He laughed and said I was too young to know what I was talking about.” She sniffed. “Little did he know that I intended to marry him one day. And I did. He didn’t stand a chance from the beginning.”
Madge’s smile widened. Grace would never take no for an answer, although she might let a person think she had.
“My advice is, if you love a man and he’s worthy of it, hang on and pray for him to turn around.”
Madge sobered. She didn’t know if Judd was worthy of her love. Through her mind ran flashes of the times they had spent together—the trip to Bowwell, the evenings they’d sat and discussed things close to their hearts. She’d felt so connected. Felt his heart to be true and honest. Even in his disguise as Justin, he’d been candid with her.
Except for the fact he intended to get even with George. It was not something she could overlook.
Grace watched her. “Ah. You have doubts. Then, my dear, listen to your head, but don’t ignore your heart. Things are not always as they seem.”
Though she tried, Madge couldn’t see how to excuse Judd. She turned her attention to her work, glancing out the window many times but not seeing Judd. She denied any disappointment. Why would she want to see him out there spying? What would she do if she did? She certainly couldn’t allow him to continue to spy on her friends.
Feeling as if she had worked three days without sleep, she made her way home and dragged herself upstairs to her room as soon as she could escape without raising questions.
Macat lay on the bed, and Madge curled around the warm body and fell asleep.
She dreamed of laundry. Piles and piles of it. The more she washed, the higher it grew until it blocked the sun. Her heart filled with wrenching terror, and she fought her way through the stacks, fighting against sheets wrapping about her. Finally she broke through to where the house stood. Only it was gone. In its place fluttered a piece of paper with the bank’s name in large black letters.
She bolted upright. The mortgage payment was due at the end of the week. Thinking about Judd had pushed the thought to the back of her mind.
The panicked feeling of the dream clung to her. She sucked in air in a vain attempt to calm herself, with reminders the mortgage payment would be ready on time. She had only to wait for George to pay her.
The fear and restlessness of her dream would not leave. She got to her feet and walked to the window to stare at the dark soddie. Judd was gone. She missed him with an ache as big as the piles of laundry in her nightmare.
But did she miss Judd or the man he pretended to be—the man she wanted him to be?
Judd dusted off one of the chairs and pulled it toward the table. He’d tried camping outside, but the wind blew his stuff around. The dust invaded everything, including his eyes and his food, and he couldn’t start a fire for fear of it racing away.
&
nbsp; So he’d moved into the Cotton house, sure no one would object to him parking there for a while.
He sank his elbows to the table. He missed Madge. Had no one to blame but himself that she’d discovered his secret. Maybe he’d even wanted her to. He sure didn’t like hiding the truth from her. Plus, he wanted her to be wary around George. Any man who would steal from a helpless woman needed to be watched.
But she hadn’t understood. Had not tried to see the situation from his side. He couldn’t face her day in, day out and pretend his heart hadn’t shattered at her reaction. Besides, it was time to get on with the task bringing him here—stopping George Gratton, seeing he got his just deserts.
He dug into the beans he’d warmed at the stove. He’d walked around the farm several times and poked through every room in the house. With every step, he saw more and more possibilities for the place.
If Madge would ever forgive him… Perhaps once she understood George truly was a despicable man, she might.
He scraped the plate clean, pushed it away and hurried to town, crossing the dusty fields in swift strides. No more reason to pretend to be Justin, except he had no desire for George to learn his true identity. Not until he could discover what the man was up to in Golden Prairie. But he assured himself anyone seeing him would dismiss him as one of many homeless men who wandered the countryside.
He moseyed along the tracks as if he had nothing in mind but the next train, then angled toward the Gratton house in a circuitous route.
He knew what time George got home from work. He knew when George’s mother went to bed. So far he’d been unable to spot any unusual movement around the place after that, but then he’d spent far too much time waiting for Madge and paying scant attention to other activity around the house.
All that was about to change. He would watch continually until he learned what was going on.
The first night, he went back to the Cotton place after he was certain George had retired to bed, thinking perhaps that was part of the ruse. Maybe he only wanted people to think he’d gone to bed.