by Lynn Donovan
“Oh! Dr. Meadows.” She looked as surprised to see him as he was to see her. “I was looking for… Nick, but since I found you, um, could you stay on for a few more days? I-I can’t pay you.” Her eyes scanned the ground as if the rest of her thought was laying there somewhere. “But…” Her eyes darted up to meet his. “I could give you that horse Nick loaned you during the competition. I’m not sure where it came from anyway. He wasn’t part of our herd, but he seems to work well with you… I… I don’t mean to imply I’m giving you a horse that we don’t want… I only mean to say you seem to be at ease in his saddle… and--”
“Sure.”
Hope stiffened, staring at him. Her delicate chest heaved, as if she were having difficulty breathing. “What?”
“I’ll stay.” A slight smile curved the tips of his mouth. She needed him. He needed the horse, maybe not that horse, but a horse. Besides, deep down he knew he needed her. If he could continue to help around the ranch a little while longer, he could enjoy seeing her a few more days before he left and tucked her memory away for good. If indeed he kept the horse he’d stolen and brought to the ranch, he’d have a proof-of-purchase from Mrs. Ledbetter to carry when he was accused of horse theft. Maybe that would keep him from the noose.
The accusation for murder was bad enough. There had to be a way to prove he was innocent of that, but how? Mentally, he shook that thought out of his mind. “And… thank you for the horse.”
“Well, it’s the least I can do for your services. You see, my cousin, Charity Chance, has the Second Chance Ranch--”
“The ranch that the steers and calves came from?” Roland looked in the direction of the neighboring ranch. Hope wasn’t asking him to stay here, she was asking him to go to the next ranch. He wouldn’t see her as before every morning. He let the thought settle in his head.
But he’d be near. Mrs. Chance was a cousin, perhaps they’d have tea or something and he could catch a glimpse of Hope while he was working over there.
“Yes. Well, she needs your help with calving season just ahead. Seems she loses more calves than she’d like and asked me to ask you to come examine her herd, maybe figure out the problem. I don’t know anything about cattle, but I can imagine how we’d feel if we were losing foals.”
Roland nodded. There could be any number of problems causing a loss in calves, from predators to disease to breeding practices. Those Brahman steers were very large, if she was breeding them with smaller, imported cows, that in itself could be the problem. He hadn’t seen her cow herd. He could go see her to discuss the situation this afternoon. And to be truthful, it was good to move to another ranch. That queer feeling he had during the competition that someone was watching him closely could mean whoever Sheriff Greyson sent to find him was in the area. Staying in one place made him more vulnerable to being found. “Do you know if Mrs. Chance will be attending the barn dance?”
Hope’s eyes rounded and her jaw went lax. “I wouldn’t presume to know. I expect every eligible woman in Lantern will be here” --her voice dropped to a murmur-- “unfortunately.”
Roland reached out to touch her, but pulled back. It wasn’t his place to comfort her. And the last thing he wanted was to let on how he felt. “My veterinary obligations to the competition are complete. I was planning to gather my things and move on today. I can stay, to help the Second Chance Ranch, but perhaps, I should go over to the ranch tomorrow, just in case your cousin planned to attend the dance.”
Just then Prince ran up to Roland and sat at his side, panting heavily. Roland instinctively patted his head while listening to Hope.
“Yes, that would probably be best.” She kicked the dirt with the toe of her boot. A gesture he had seen Jaxon do often. “Um, I was also wondering… I thought it would be nice to get away for a little bit this morning, while the men are clearing out the barn. Besides I have no intention of attending the dance. I’m not the host, my cousin Mayor Faith Burke is, and… since you say your obligations are fulfilled with the competition… Oh, unless you were going to the dance?”
Roland shook his head. “No, my plans were only to head toward the next competition.”
“Well, if it wouldn’t be an imposition, I thought I’d take the children on a picnic. Keep them out of the way. That Jaxon is too curious for his own good.” She glanced up at him with an amused expression that almost reached her eyes. “Nick usually goes with us for a proper escort, but of course he’s too busy with the barn dance and all. We won’t stay long. Just attend to the family graves and eat some fried chicken. It’s a lovely, peaceful place, very relaxing.” A crimson flush filled her cheeks.
Roland wanted to touch those hot apple domes with the back of his hand, but resisted with all his willpower.
“I’d appreciate the escort… uh, it was Jaxon who insisted I ask you. He seems to be fascinated by you.” The blush deepened on her face. “Oh, but I’m sure you have things to do and are too busy--”
“No.” Roland bent his neck to catch her darting eyes. “I’d be happy to escort you. After all it’s only proper you not go alone.” He smiled. An opportunity for an activity with her and her children, to act as though everything was normal for an afternoon, he relished the thought. Perhaps it would be his only opportunity for such a pleasant day, for a long time.
She swallowed. “Well. Alright then. If you would be so kind as to hitch up the small supplies wagon, I’ll kill a pullet and prepare for the trip.”
“My pleasure.” Roland turned to go into the barn. Was he being foolish? Staying when he should be moving on? He’d already been in one place too long with the competition. Was he making himself an easy target for whoever might be looking for him? How well had he covered his tracks? How good of a tracker would Sheriff Grayson send? Would it be Deputy DeMott looking for him? They had nearly formed a friendly bond while he was in the nunnery hospital. But still, he was a lawman, sworn to uphold his oath of office. DeMott had seemed to soften in his conviction that Roland was guilty of murder. It was a mystery to him how anybody could believe he’d committed cold blood murder when he obviously was a victim of a devilish whip and his dog had been badly wounded, too. If anything, it seemed they would suspect he’d shot his partner out of self-defense.
He leaned back on his heels with a groan to force the wagon to roll out of it’s space. He looked toward the mule, she would be next. His mind returned to his plight. He had no gun. Anybody who knew him knew he never carried a gun. It stood to reason anyone would realize he was innocent by that fact alone. But --he stopped with his hand on the mule’s harness, who did shoot Phillip? There had been a third person there, when Phillip was attacking Roland and Prince. The horses were released from their stalls by someone and had reared up over Roland and then Phillip was shot. But, by who?
The mule stamped her foot with impatience. Seemed she anticipated an outing and wished to hurry Roland with hitching her to the wagon. Roland dropped his far-off thoughts and looked the mule in her large molasses-colored eye. “Yes, we should get you ready.”
Roland sighed heavily. His thoughts were troublesome, but today was an opportunity to spend what few precious hours he had left in this area with a woman and her children whom he could honestly see himself settling down with -- if that were possible.
EIGHT
Knots tightened in Hope’s tummy like sinew drying in the hot sun. She didn’t want to go to the cemetery alone. But Nick didn’t have a spare moment to accompany her as he normally did. Jaxon innocently asked for Dr. Meadows to go with them. He had no idea the turmoil that request caused in her gut and her heart. “He’s probably busy, too,” she told her son -- and herself.
Everybody was busy on this last day of the competitive event, then there were the preparations for the barn dance. She wanted to go hide under a rock until it was over, but she couldn’t. She had chores. She had the children. Sonya had more work to do in preparation of the evening event than any one woman could accomplish, and yet she was on top of everything, as alw
ays. Hope knew she’d be better off to stay out of Sonya’s way, and the cemetery hadn’t been tended to in quite some time. It was a refuge, a place of peace and tranquility for Hope even when things weren’t so hectic at the ranch.
There was the matter of her cousin, Charity. In spite of a lot of difficult times between her and her husband, the Second Chance Ranch had prospered. The family knew Charity was the true brains of the Ranch’s operations. After all, theirs had not been a marriage based on love, but something forced upon her cousin for decorum’s sake.
Now, with Sebastian lost to the War, it was even more evident the success of the ranch fell directly on Charity’s shoulders. Of course, it was a good time for cattle ranching. The Texas stock was hardy and sound. Still, Hope knew she was one of the few wives who didn’t long for her man’s return from the War. In fact, she’d heard Charity say she was the happiest widow alive. The thought saddened Hope to the core. She, on the other hand, was probably the saddest.
It wasn’t any of Hope’s business, other than she loved her cousin and wished true happiness for her and her daughter. Charlie was ten, yet she tolerated Jaxon and his overly active and inquisitive ways. She adored Jewell and let her play with her pretty dolls.
But something was wrong with Charity’s herd. An unusual number of calves were dying within a few days after birth. The cows seemed fine. The cause was a mystery. She had come to Hope after an event on Wednesday and asked if she’d put in a word with the event veterinarian to stop by her ranch before he left the area. It gave Hope a valid excuse to approach the handsome doctor. If he agreed to stay, to help Charity with her calving problem, then Hope would ask if he’d escort her and the children to the cemetery.
She swallowed her pride and her fears, and walked out toward the barn. However, when he stepped out with Prince at his side, her heart fluttered, betraying her cool, manner-of-fact façade. She looked around, hoping Nick would be nearby so she could divert her attention to him instead. But Nick was not in sight. She muttered something about looking for Nick and squeezed her eyes closed. Did she sound as stupid as she felt?
Would the doctor see right through her and know inappropriate feelings stirred inside her for him. Ridiculous feelings, considering he had made it very clear he had no intention of settling in Lantern. He and his mix-breed dog had a nomadic life and seemed intent on keeping it that way. How could she expect such a man to want what little she had to offer? Her ranch was in disrepair; her life was in shambles, just like her heart. Jude’s memory still shadowed every thought she had.
She wasn’t ready to open her heart to another, and yet this Dr. Meadows stirred a feeling of --dare she admit-- hope. Jaxon hung on the man’s every word, and Dr. Meadows displayed a great deal of patience with her son and his endless questions. Sweet little Jewell, as timid as she was around strangers, had seemed to take to the doctor as if she’d known him all her life. The signs were there. All Hope had to do was decide if she would accept what her heart was telling her and pursue Dr. Johnny Meadows.
No. She wasn’t that kind of woman. Regardless of Mrs. Casterton’s judgmental accusations, Hope was not the kind of person to brazenly pursue a man if he didn’t show interest in her first. She would not reveal her interest in him, no matter how attractive he was to her. She’d simply let him know about her cousin’s request and squash any other desires that pounded on her emotions. She could handle herself. She was raised to be a civilized lady, after all.
But when he suddenly uttered, “Sure.”
Her organized, controlled thoughts slammed into her sentiments, and her heart pounded so hard against her ribs that it took away her breath. She struggled to breathe normally. “Wha--?”
It was all she could manage to speak. Her thoughts were so thrown off kilter, she searched a blank slate in her mind for what to say. The smile in his eyes sparkled like a star still visible in a bluing morning sky. She wanted to fall into the depths of those twinkling pools, and drink in their warmth. Her body ached to step close to him and let his strong arms engulf her in an embrace that claimed her body and soul.
His voice, low and soft, rumbled in her hearing, but it took her a moment to pull her mind from the fantasy of his embrace to comprehend what words he had uttered. “I’ll stay… And thank you for the horse.”
She’d offered him a horse if he’d stay. Sure, that was the least she could do and it was sufficient pay for his medical services, but her mind had wandered while she had said it. Only when he thanked her for the gesture did she realize she’d made it. This man affected her good sense. She mentally shook her head. She had to get control of her mind… and her heart. Her time for mourning was not complete. Now was not right to be letting herself fall for the intriguing veterinarian doctor.
She hurried into an explanation of her cousin’s need for his medical knowledge and observed in awe at which she and he conversed about Charity’s calves, the potential cause, and the possibility of Charity attending the dance. Hope did not want to appear to be a busybody, Jude had always hated the close-knit communications between her and her female cousins. She feigned ignorance of her cousin’s plans. Having that matter behind her, she considered venturing one step farther.
Would this question give away her true feelings? She silently prayed not. “Um, I was also wondering…” She found herself rattling on like a nervous school girl just to ask for a suitable escort. There was no real danger in going to the cemetery alone, but one never knew who might be wandering along the river. A lady could not be too careful. The bushwackers had already proven to be looking for trouble to cause. But then a thought blazed her mind.
“Oh, unless you were going to the dance?”
She held her breath. Had he found a girl of his interest while attending the events? She had stayed in her house all week and not been aware of any connections made which was the whole reason for the event in the first place. There was no telling how many couples had been formed in the week that had just passed. Heat filled her cheeks. How foolish of her to presume he hadn’t caught someone’s eye. He was extremely handsome, and smart, and kind.
But he said no. He had no intention of going to the dance. Of course not. He wasn’t here to find a bride. Soon, he would move on, and she’d be left with a guilty memory of a relationship that had only happened in the recesses of her imagination. How foolish of her to think he would have anything other than proprietary manners toward her and her children.
Roland kept a respectable distance while Hope cleaned around her late husband’s gravestone. Awkward didn’t begin to describe the sensations snaking through his gut. It was as if he had been caught with another man’s wife. He bided his time by watching Prince run along with Bella and the children, and by looking over the other burial markers.
Hope had two generations of family buried in this small cemetery, parents, grandparents, even a small unmarked grave -- a child perhaps? Was it her child or a sibling? He didn’t dare ask. A simple headstone marked Garcia stood at one end of the section of land. Nick’s wife, Roland gathered.
Jaxon and Jewell played at a short distance away. Prince happily stayed at their side while Bella sniffed the ground in a frantic search of a lizard that had fatefully run across her path. The children squatted to put their finger on the tiny green leaves of the sleeping beauty plants which closed when stimulated by touch. An innate weed actually, which covered the grounds of the cemetery, thus keeping the children occupied for a long time. The quilt Hope had brought and the basket of fried chicken with assorted cold foods lay under a large shading oak tree. He considered going back to it and nibbling on some more of her tasty chicken, but movement in the trees lining the small cemetery caught his attention, instead.
A protective instinct strummed to life in his chest. Was this person a danger to Hope and the children, or were they looking for him? One of Greyson’s hunters?
Roland casually walked to where Hope knelt, pulling unwanted plants from Mr. Ledbetter’s plot. “Do you know that man?”
<
br /> Hope glanced up at him, drawn from her tempestuous thoughts. She blinked and then covered her brow with a gloved hand to shield the bright sun as she looked the direction he had indicated. She rose to her full height, concentrating her gaze. “It must be Porter. We see him fishing along the river often.”
“Porter?” Roland repeated. “A townsman?”
Hope had returned to her chore. She didn’t seem bothered by this man’s presence “Porter lives outside of town, actually, but I suppose you could call him a townsman. He comes to town to buy supplies. He’s a bit of a mystery, actually.”
Roland kept his eyes on the spot he had last seen the large silhouetted man. Neither Prince nor Bella reacted to the man, so he must not be any kind of threat. “Mystery? How so?”
Hope leaned back on her heels, folding her dirty and weed-stained gloved hands in her lap. “Oh, Porter’s not really his name, it’s what everyone calls him, because of a port-wine birthmark across his face.” She indicated the placement of his birthmark. She lifted her eyes to the woods where he’d been seen. “He doesn’t cause any harm, really, although he is a legend around here. Parents tell their children ridiculous stories about the man to frighten them into behaving.” She stood again. “It’s not fair, to be honest, to make the children afraid of him. He’s never done anything bad… that I know of.”
A distant hazy look filled her eyes. Roland wondered what she was thinking to cause such a far off gaze. “Are you sure that was this ‘Porter’ person?”
She blinked the haze away and turned to him. “Well, no. I didn’t see whoever you saw. But who else could it be?”