Racing inside, she picked up Alice’s cradle and staggered outside with it. Then their clothes. In a wooden box she placed their frypan, coffee pot and saucepan, and a couple of pieces of crockery and cutlery. She packed as much food as she could into her washing basket, gathered up a pillow and blankets.
Hating herself for doing it, knowing she had no choice she searched Daniel’s pockets and found his money purse. Feeling despicable she took it out. It didn’t feel like there was much in it.
Within ten minutes she was packed and on her way. With the sun setting behind the hills, she drove into the fading light.
Logan McGregor was their only hope. If he refused to help, she and Alice were doomed.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Logan’s ranch, the morning after he had proposed to Jemma.
Logan had tossed and turned all night, the barn wasn’t as comfortable as he had anticipated it would be. He missed his comfortable bed. Strange how he didn’t mind sleeping rough on the trail.
He was still mad enough to swallow a horn toad backward at Jemma’s rejection of his offer of marriage. He would have thought she would have jumped at the chance. Never would he understand the workings of a woman’s mind, even if he lived to be a hundred.
A good night’s sleep might have put Jemma in a better mood. With time to think things over, she’d probably change her mind. Getting hitched was the perfect solution for all of their problems.
He ran a hand across his stubbly chin. He could do with a shave. He would go into town today to stock up on supplies. If Jemma had changed her mind they could see the preacher, if not, he would leave her with Sam.
He stood, yawned and stretched. If things went to plan he wouldn’t be sleeping on a pile of hay in the barn tonight, but in Jemma’s arms in his comfortable bed. Pulling on his boots, he brushed a few strands of hay from his clothes before deciding to leave the blanket where it was. A man didn’t want to appear too eager. He had his pride after all.
Striding over to the cabin, he watched a trail of smoke as it curled upward. Jemma was obviously up, and hopefully cooking breakfast for him. He stepped on to the back porch, tapped on the door and called out. “Can I come in?”
“Y….yes.”
She didn’t sound too sure, causing his heart to drop to his boots. Warily, he pushed open the door and shock raced through him. Jemma was dressed, although she hadn’t tied back her hair. It was a rich, copper brown now it was clean. It fell into soft waves almost reaching waist level, making him itch to run his fingers through it. She sure was a beautiful woman.
“Er, good morning. Did you sleep well?” It sounded stilted yet he couldn’t help it. Her beauty had left him bereft of any coherent thought. She wore the same clothing as yesterday, the top two buttons on the bodice of the blue dress were open, causing it to gape slightly. She followed his eyes and red flooded her cheeks.
“I’ve just finished feeding the baby.”
He stepped over to Alice who was in the cradle propped up against the pillow. She gave him a gummy smile, or at least he thought she did. “How’s my little darlin’ going?” He reached out and tickled her under the chin.
“Coffee?” Jemma said.
“Yes, thank you.”
They were like two over-polite strangers. His feeling of optimism started to fade.
“I was making pancakes, would you like some?”
Would he ever, he was starving.
“I can cook eggs and….”
“No, pancakes will be fine. I thought we could go into town today.”
She pursed her lips.
“Have you thought any more about my offer?”
“Yes. I spent half the night thinking about it.”
“And?”
“The answer is still no.”
He slapped his forehead with an open hand. “Why not? It’s an ideal solution for us.”
“Don’t badger me, Logan.” She looked suddenly sad and vulnerable. “I can’t. Much and all as I want to. I can’t.”
“What’s troubling you? You can trust me to….”
“You’d hate me if you knew, and I couldn’t bear it.”
She was talking in riddles. There was no doubting her sincerity or the sadness clouding her eyes. What terrible secret would she carry? He had to get to the bottom of it. Their future depended on it.
At least she had admitted to caring for him, which was a start. He cared for her also, even on such short acquaintance. Alice wouldn’t begrudge him finding happiness with another woman, now three years had elapsed since her death.
“How long will it take you to get ready for town?”
“Maybe an hour. I thought you didn’t want people to see me.”
“I don’t. Old Sam Davey, a friend of mine, lives about a mile or so out of Trails End, you and the baby can stay with him for a couple of hours.”
“I don’t know the man. There’s Alice to consider.”
“He’s harmless,” Logan said. “Rarely speaks and is as deaf as a post, but I know he’ll take good care of you both and see no harm comes to you.”
She nodded her head. “It doesn’t seem, well, honest, hiding away.
“It’s the way things have to be unless you agree to become my wife. You think I like sneaking around lying to people. It doesn’t sit well with me at all.”
“Me, either.”
“Let’s not argue about it now. Can you spare me some hot water, I need to shave and wash. I’ve got a couple of chores I want to do first, everything else can wait until we get back this afternoon.”
Within the hour they were ready to start their journey. Jemma was glad she had been able to wash, iron and mend the rips in her dress. Her hair was soft and clean now. It had always been her best feature. She tied it back with a thin strip of leather she had found in a drawer.
Logan had obviously liked it, as his eyes had blazed. When he returned inside freshly shaved, stripped to the waist with the muscles rippling in his arms, he was a fine specimen of manhood. Her heartbeat escalated and she felt a strange flutter, like the wings of a butterfly, from deep within her belly. Something that had never happened with Daniel.
She was drawn to Logan McGregor, her brother-in-law. A man she could never have, unless she dared take the risk of her secret ever seeing the light of day. She couldn’t do it to herself or him – live a lie.
Alice was awake when Logan lifted the cradle into the back of the wagon. She blinked sleepily, so it wouldn’t take long for her to nod off once the wagon started moving.
Logan didn’t speak as he drove the wagon off his ranch and on to the road. He had nice hands, tanned, if a little work roughened. What would it be like to feel them roaming over her body, caressing her intimate places? She diverted her thoughts by remembering the boys who had held them up near here. What bumbling fools the three of them had been.
A few miles down the road they passed a piece of wood hammered to a stake with the words ‘Deadwood’ and an arrow pointing away from them. It was near here she had been set upon, and Alice had been thrown away. A shiver shook her body.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes, just remembering what happened near here. I shudder every time I think about it. Do you think the posse would have caught up with those horrible men?”
“I don’t know. If they had a price on their head maybe, we’ll never know for sure. Look to the future, not the past. Did I tell you how fetching you look?”
“No.”
“Well you do. I’d like to be able to buy you a pretty dress and bonnet.”
She touched his arm. “You don’t have to as you’ve done a lot for Alice and me already.”
“I could do more if….”
“Please.”
“We probably won’t need to stop until we get to Sam’s unless the baby needs feeding.”
Jemma was dreading having to stay with a strange man, although she was confident Logan wouldn’t leave them with anyone untrustworthy. The trouble with you Jemm
a McGregor is there aren’t many people around who you do trust. Don’t I have the right? Look what trust cost me?
She tried not to be bitter, it would eat away at her until there was nothing left except an empty shell. “You’ve got Alice, and she’s more precious than anything else in the world,” she inwardly whispered.
Alice started to grizzle by the time they passed through a rusty gate hanging crazily by one hinge. On a piece of board were written the words. ‘Keep out. Trespassers shot.’
“Nice welcome,” she said.
“Yeah. Sam’s worse than me, a real hermit.”
“Are you sure he won’t mind me and the baby staying?”
“It won’t be for long, I’ll buy the stores then head straight back.”
He gave her a hard stare and she knew he was itching to start on about them being wed. If only he knew she was doing it for him. How horrible would it be if they did marry and he somehow found out she was involved in his wife’s murder. Not only would he hate her, but himself also. She couldn’t let it happen.
Sam didn’t do much around his ranch she thought. Everywhere it was unkempt, overgrown, almost derelict looking. His house was even more shocking, it was an old soddie with earth roof and walls made from blocks of compressed dirt. It didn’t even have a door. Chickens ran in and out through a flapping canvas curtain covering the doorway.
She shuddered. “I can’t take Alice in there. How can he live like this?”
Logan shrugged. “I don’t know, he’s a little strange, but harmless.”
“I’m not going inside.” She watched horrified as a couple of barking dogs rushed out from behind the curtain. A fire burned in a brick fireplace near the house. He obviously cooked out here by the blackened pot dangling from an iron tripod.
“It’s a bit primitive,” Logan conceded. “It’s not our place to condemn the way he lives. He obviously likes it.”
A short, bow-legged little man holding a rifle stepped out from behind the curtain.
“It’s me,” Logan said loudly, climbing down from the wagon. “I’ve come to ask a favor.”
“What is it? Who’s she?”
“Jemma, meet Sam Davey. Jemma is my sister-in-law, Sam.”
The old man stared at her, then scratched his bald head.
“My brother was killed and she came to stay with me.”
Faded blue eyes showing no emotion, stared at her.
“I need to get supplies, but I don’t want to take Jemma into town. I mean, how would it look, me having a single woman and baby living with me?”
The word baby caught Sam’s interest. “You got one of those.”
“She’s my niece,” Logan said. “A mighty pretty wee gal, too.” The affection in his voice warmed Jemma.
Sam nodded and lowered the rifle.
“The baby is asleep in the wagon, could I borrow your cart?”
“Yeah.”
Logan helped Jemma down and she stood beside him uncertain what to do.
“Howdy, Sam.”
He grunted something. His expression inscrutable. “Want coffee?” His raised eyebrows formed peaks.
“No, thank you.”
“Is this the way you greet visitors?” Logan grinned. “Aiming a rifle at them.”
“Yeah, anyone else would be shot by now.”
“Are you still having trouble with those young cowboys?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“You should report them to Sheriff Kirwin.”
Alice started crying and Logan stepped over to the back of the wagon to lift her out. “Don’t cry, little darlin’, your Ma’s ready to feed you.”
Sam’s eyes widened with shock, he looked as if he had never seen a baby before, probably hadn’t.
“See what a bonnie wee gal she is.”
Without speaking, Sam stared at Logan, then her, then Alice.
“Mind if I use your horse for the cart?”
Sam nodded.
“It will give my horses a chance to have a rest. I’ll take the wagon to my usual spot.” Logan waved his arm about. “It will be shady for them under the trees.”
Sam nodded. Obviously he had finished talking.
“I’ll stay with the wagon,” Jemma said. “It will be easier with all the baby’s things, and I don’t want to intrude on Sam’s privacy.”
Logan opened his mouth to say something, caught her glare and shut it again. Sam didn’t seem to care one way or the other. He merely shrugged and re-entered the house.
“What a strange man,” she said.
“He is, but he’ll look after you and Alice.” He handed Alice, who had become agitated, over to Jemma. “I’ll drive the wagon over.”
To her surprise, he lifted her up onto the wagon seat. She clutched Alice tightly as he drove the hundred yards or so to a huge tree with several smaller ones growing near it.
“There’s plenty of shade here. This is where I used to stay when I was too drunk to ride home.”
She stifled a gasp at his admission. A couple of layers of stones formed a circular fireplace and there was an iron roasting plate.
“When I first moved here I was upset about losing Alice, demented with grief you could say.”
Jemma felt the terrible guilt wash over her again. “It must have been awful.”
“It was, getting drunk was one way of forgetting things.” He grimaced. “Well, for a short while anyway.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “I just wish I knew for certain the person who killed her got their just deserts.”
“I….I’m sure they did.” Fear played chords up and down her spine, reinforcing the fact she had done the right thing by rejecting his marriage offer. He hadn’t forgotten or forgiven and it sounded like he never would.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said.
“I was thinking about Daniel.” She felt despicable using her dead husband as an excuse to cover her guilt.
“We’ve both loved and lost, Jemma so….”
“No.” Don’t ask me again.” She touched his hand. “Please.”
“I’ll fix you a fire before I go, then you can make yourself coffee while I’m gone.”
“Thanks, I can do it. It’s more important for you to get into town and come back as quickly as you can.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I was on the trail for over two weeks after Daniel died. How do you think I managed to survive if I couldn’t make a fire?”
“All right. I won’t unharness the horses, just put nosebags on them to keep them happy.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
After Logan had seen to the horses, he strode toward a rickety looking barn. A short time later, she saw him driving off. Jemma raised her hand, yet received no acknowledgement.
While the baby slept, she set about preparing the fire. It didn’t take long with plenty of small branches and twigs lying around, plus numerous fallen pine cones.
She filled the coffee pot with water from the barrel Logan always carried. She didn’t quite trust the water Sam might provide in case it was contaminated. Logan had packed a few supplies for their journey, he was a man who made allowances for any unexpected situation.
On finding a grassy spot she sat down, wondering how anyone could live in such squalor. With hard work and care, this could be a nice place. What was Sam’s story? He was sure to have one, otherwise why live like this, shunning people and letting himself and his property go to rack and ruin.
Having prepared the dry ingredients for pancakes before leaving this morning, now it was only a matter of adding water to mix it up. She’d kept a couple of fatty pork strips to grease the pan. Having always been well organized, she was pleased Logan was the same, probably why Sam’s way of living turned her stomach.
What would possess a man to have chickens and dogs running loose inside his house? “Save going outside to collect your eggs,” she said out loud. He was obviously happy enough with his living arrangements. Who
was she to condemn him, after living somewhere a whole lot worse? A shudder ran through her on remembering the filth and bleak misery of the women’s prison. If they hadn’t released her when they did, she would surely have died.
She was almost glad when Alice woke up whimpering, took her mind off unpleasant thoughts. She had left the baby in the wagon with the flap down to keep her safe from any marauding insect who might be tempted to feast on her soft baby skin. Leaning inside, she picked the baby up. “Are you hungry again?”
The baby was sucking her fingers. Going over to the grassy space, Jemma glanced around. When no-one could be seen, she opened her bodice.
Alice sucked for a short time, then lost interest. She had obviously been thirsty rather than hungry. Sitting under the shade of the trees would be good for Alice, and she need not worry about sunburn.
“Smells good,” she said, sniffing at the scent of burning pine cones. The silence was only broken by a bird’s cry every now and again. Keeping an eye on Alice who now lay on a blanket kicking energetically, she checked the coffee pot. It was nearly ready. The pancakes wouldn’t take long to cook now the logs had burned down to a glowing red. Should she check if Sam wanted some? He had let Logan drop her here, hadn’t hesitated even for a second.
Picking Alice up, she traipsed to the house, if you could call the soddie that. She couldn’t bring herself to get too close, not with the baby.
“Sam!” Alice started in fright as her voice was loud. “Sam,” she yelled again, and his head poked out from behind the curtain.
“You all right, gal?”
“Yes, um, I lit a fire in Logan’s fireplace. I’m making coffee and pancakes if you’d like some.”
He stared at her for a moment before nodding his head.
“It’s ready now.” She had secretly hoped he might refuse.
“Hat,” he said, stepping back inside.
She hovered outside wondering what to do for the best. Wait or go? Within seconds he re-appeared wearing a battered Stetson with a bullet hole through the crown.
“You’ve been shot at?”
“Yeah.”
She stared at the Winchester he carried, and he followed her eyes.
“Been trouble.”
Logan (Bachelors And Babies Book 2) Page 9