by Ford, Linda;
“Yes. My bed.”
“Speaking of that… Freddy wants to spend the night in the stopping house. I told him he could—”
“You what?”
She sighed. “If it was okay with you.”
He swallowed hard. “Huh.” He was no closer to getting the facts from her and resigned himself to standing all night on the edge of town in the increasingly cold air.
“Anyway, back to what I was saying.”
“Good idea.”
“I’ll ignore that.”
“Sorry.” He normally didn’t have a comment for anyone, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to stop spouting them off with Joanna.
“Freddy said his grandmother told him you and his ma were supposed to be married, but instead she married your brother.”
Fire scorched a path through his brain. Not because he hurt any longer over what Betty and Joe had done, but because Joanna sounded all sympathetic. No doubt she would offer condolences. “It’s true. So what?”
“So nothing, except it seems you were fortunate to discover how lukewarm her heart was before you actually tied the knot.”
He laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“I expected you to be all sorrowful because I got stood up. Instead you tell me it was a good thing.” It plumb tickled him, and he chuckled again.
“You don’t?”
“Consider myself fortunate?” He’d never given it any thought, but suddenly he realized she was right. “Maybe I am. I’ve been free to go where I want without hindrance for the past eleven years. Can’t complain about that.”
“I didn’t mean it in that way. But be that as it may, I believe those days are over for you. You are now guardian of a boy.”
“Who hates me.” He folded his arms. “And I believe you were about to explain why and what my mother has to do with it.” He wouldn’t listen to ill words spoken of his dead mother. Did she hear the warning note in his voice? And if she did, would she heed it?
“He’s taken what his grandmother said and turned it into something else. Apparently she said your brother—”
“Joe.”
“Yes, Joe—married his mother, and you wouldn’t speak to Joe after that. Freddy figures it’s because you hate Joe and, by extension, him.”
Rudy made a noise that did little to release his frustration. “I didn’t hate Joe, and I certainly don’t hate Freddy. Though”—he might as well reveal the whole ugly truth—“I did think Joe charmed Betty just to prove he could take her from me. And”—he held up a hand to stop whatever she meant to say—“I did think he should have stayed around to take care of his responsibilities instead of leaving my mother and Betty to manage on their own.”
She nodded. “My opinion exactly.” He couldn’t see much of Joanna’s face in the low light surrounding them, but he understood she didn’t simply agree with his opinion about Joe. Likely she thought he should notice the parallel about his responsibility to Freddy. Only difference was, Joe had asked for the responsibility. He hadn’t.
“Freddy didn’t ask to be left an orphan. Don’t you think he’s had enough of believing you don’t care for him?” Her soft words carried a pleading note.
He scrubbed his chin. “Don’t you think I’ve tried?”
“I expect you have. But now you have to succeed.” They headed down the darkened street. The only other lights came from the saloon, and even that business was strangely quiet.
He stayed at her side, his mount at his other hand. “You make it sound so simple. As if it’s up to me.”
“It is. You’re the adult. You win him over.” She kept walking.
“How?” He didn’t mean to sound so desperate, even though he was. “Tell me how.”
She slowed so she could study his face. “You really want help? You really want to make it work?”
He shrugged. Yes, he wanted to make it work. More than she could possibly know. Freddy was all he had left of Betty. Of Joe. Even of his mother. Of course he wanted the boy to like him. He wanted to give the boy love, but at every attempt he’d been kicked in the teeth. “I want to be Freddy’s uncle.”
She seemed to understand what he meant. “Then I’ll help you… while I’m still here.”
“Mr. Tisdale will soon replace you?”
“He didn’t even speak to me tonight.”
“Likely feeling things out.” She’d only be there a short time, but maybe she could help him before she left.
And why did it twist his gut to think of her leaving? After all, he’d never had trouble leaving any place in his life.
She stood still in the middle of the street, staring into the darkness. “Here’s what I suggest. I continue to give Freddy some chores, and you help out around the stopping house, too. I’ll do my best to see that you’re together. I’ll work on Freddy to help him see that you want to be friends. In exchange for your work, I’ll feed you and provide you a place to sleep.”
He laughed outright at that. “Maybe not having to eat my cooking will make him more willing to like me.”
Her low-throated chuckle tickled across his nerves. He was unreasonably pleased with himself. Then he sobered. “You think it will work?”
“I’d say it’s worth a try. Add your prayers for God to change his heart.”
His jaw tightened. “I don’t expect help from God. Haven’t in a long time.”
They passed a horse pen. The animal neighed. But Joanna was strangely silent.
Blessedly silent. He’d half expected an impassioned sermon after confessing his doubts about God.
“I expect it has something to do with Joe and Betty.”
He should have known she wouldn’t let it pass. “Maybe,” he allowed.
“I was once like that. So many times I prayed our Pa would stay with us. He never did, so I stopped asking. And then I stopped talking to God at all. Stopped reading the Bible. Just stopped thinking about God.”
He waited, wondering what had changed. But they passed the last of the businesses, and she offered no more. Sure picked the worst time to decide to keep her mouth shut. “So what happened?”
“To make me think about God again? I was trying to think what it was. I could say it was when Levi—Glory’s preacher husband, remember—came to town, but I think it began before that.” Her feet slowed to a crawl, and he settled back, content to watch her. “We see a lot of people passing through at the stopping house. I observed them and began to understand many of them are so tied up in their own interests, their own hurts, even their own dreams that they don’t realize how their actions and decisions affect others. Slowly I began to accept Pa was like that. Don’t expect even God can turn a stubborn man around unless he’s willing.”
He sorted through her words. Somehow they comforted him, but he couldn’t even say why. Maybe Joe and Betty hadn’t intentionally hurt him. It was a new thought. Something he’d have to muse on for a while.
They reached the place where he’d have to turn off to return to his camp, and he made up his mind without knowing he had made the decision. “I’ll go get our things so Freddy can sleep at the stopping house and be there to do chores in the morning.”
“Do you want company?”
Her words slammed into his heart like a giant fist. Did she actually want to spend time with him? He stumbled on a nonexistent lump in the ground and caught himself before Joanna noticed. How many times had he gone from camp to camp, ranch to ranch, even ridden away to nowhere in particular? Always alone. Without anyone offering to accompany him. That’s the way it was. The way he wanted it to be. He’d made it clear as springwater, and everyone respected his desire.
But Joanna’s offer ripped away scar tissue and revealed a long-unhealed wound of loneliness. Well, guess he wouldn’t have to worry about being alone in the future. He had Freddy now.
But it wasn’t the boy he wanted to welcome into that lonely place. It was Joanna. He clenched his teeth and pushed aside every bit of weakness.
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nbsp; He’d trusted a woman once. Given her his heart. When she’d turned her back on him, he’d vowed never to trust another female. Ever. Yes, Joanna might show undeserved kindness. Yes, he’d asked her to help him win Freddy’s trust. Yes, she made him feel things he hadn’t felt in a long time. Things like friendship, companionship, a desire for company. Maybe she even made him want to tell her more about his life. But bottom line, where it really mattered, she was a woman. And he was not about to trust her.
Rudy never said she was welcome to accompany him up the hill. But he hadn’t said he didn’t want her either, so Joanna traipsed along. The narrow trail forced them to walk almost shoulder to shoulder. It was not an uncomfortable feeling—Rudy at her side, strolling along at a leisurely pace. The horse following on their heels.
She’d offered to help him with Freddy. For the boy’s sake. For Rudy’s, too, she reluctantly admitted. There was something about his thwarted efforts to befriend the boy that tugged at her emotions. To be rejected hurt. She knew and understood, having felt the same pain with Pa. How often had she begged him to stay, always dreaming he would love her enough to be the parent instead of leaving her with the role? But time and time again he left. Always with instructions for her to take care of her younger sisters. Each time she’d stuff her pain into some distant corner of her heart and put on a cheerful front for the sake of Glory and Mandy. But it hurt. More than words could say.
She couldn’t keep the feelings bottled up inside forever, and tonight they burst forth. She told Rudy all of it while they walked through the ghostly shapes of the trees. While they crunched over the dry leaves on the path, she talked. Finally she wound down. “It wasn’t until the girls were both happily married to men who would not walk away from them to pursue some distant dream that my pain has begun to heal.”
They’d reached the campsite. She looked around, wondering how long they’d been standing under the trees. At some point he’d acquired the lantern. It hung from a nearby branch, throwing long shadows away from its light. She’d never before confessed her feelings to anyone. Her cheeks burned with mortification to the point she expected they glowed in the dark. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you the whole story.” She could barely stammer out the apology.
He gave her a slow nod, his eyes serious. “Didn’t mind. Just wish I could do something to take away the hurt your pa has left in you.” His gaze held hers.
She found something in his steady look she couldn’t explain. Something she’d never felt before. Never expected to feel.
He lifted a hand and touched her cheek, his fingers cool to her skin. “I can see why you’re so set on making sure I don’t give up on Freddy. You see yourself in the boy.”
She nodded, tears welling. She swallowed hard and widened her eyes to keep from letting any escape. Hopefully, the darkness hid her distress.
He flattened his hand against her cheek. His touch, solid and tender, calmed her. And set her heart racing.
She tilted her head slightly into his touch. His palm was rough and warm. “It isn’t fair to abandon children.” She swallowed again, trying to remove the crab apple–sized lump in her throat.
“If only things could work out in the ideal way you think they should.” He withdrew his hand, leaving a cold spot on her jawline. Leaving her feeling as if he’d backed away from something fragile hovering in the air.
Suddenly cold, she hugged her coat closer to her chest and stepped to one side, putting a distance of three feet between them. She wasn’t an idealistic child who believed in happy-ever-after. She knew people made mistakes and was willing to take that into account. But mistakes were no excuse for abandoning a child. She lifted her chin and glared at him. “I don’t expect things to work out all sunshine and roses, but I’m saying people like you can choose how some things will work out.”
“I hear ya. Loud and clear. No need to hammer the subject to death.”
“I’m not.” So he didn’t really understand a thing. She had just told him everything about how it feels to be alone and unwanted, and he didn’t even care. The words of protest were hot on her lips. “You’re way too much like my pa. Just about the time I think we might be learning to be friends, you jerk back. Surprised you don’t throw your things on the back of that horse and ride away.” She gave him a look that should have melted him on the spot.
But he laughed.
She stared, trying to decide if she wanted to stomp away or kick dirt at him.
He didn’t give her a chance to do either. Instead, he closed the distance between them and caught her shoulders. “Joanna, there seems one thing I can count on with you. You’ll never leave me guessing how you feel.” He grew serious and looked into her eyes.
She held his gaze without blinking. Try as she might, she couldn’t sort her thoughts into neat array. Something about this man slipped past her defenses and made her long for things she had vowed she didn’t want.
“It’s nice to know I can count on something from someone,” he murmured then planted a kiss on her forehead. He jerked back.
She was appalled. Appalled by his behavior, appalled by the way her heart leaped to her throat at his kiss.
“I shouldn’t have done that.” Avoiding her eyes, he grabbed up a canvas-covered roll and tied it to the saddle.
Bad enough to be kissed in a fatherly way. Worse to have her heart do strange things. But the worst of all was getting an apology. “Don’t ever kiss me again and apologize for it.” She stalked over to him. “As if I’m a mistake. As if I don’t deserve any sign of affection.”
He turned to face her. “You are not a mistake. After all, if you weren’t here, who would keep nagging me to prove to Freddy that I want to be friends?”
Her eyes burned with a thousand things—disappointments from the past, feeling she could never live up to her pa’s expectation. Pa always left with a warning that she was responsible for her sisters. She knew now his leaving and his warning had nothing to do with her or how well she managed. It was only his way of shifting his responsibility to her shoulders. Yet the remnants of uncertainty lingered.
“Joanna, don’t push me. I have nothing to offer. I’m a rootless cowboy who is about to see if he can settle down. But I can’t make promises. You’re right when you say I’m like your pa. Keep that in mind.”
She flung away. “Believe me, I’m not about to forget it. Not that it matters one way or the other.” Except it did. Or it would if she let it. But she wasn’t going to. She’d had enough dealings with men who rode in and out of her life without more than a hasty good-bye. “One man like Pa is more than enough in my life.”
He watched her, his expression guarded.
Seeing the resigned look on his face, she wanted to pull her words back. But once spoken, words could not be withdrawn. Maybe she could try and undo the harm they’d wrought. “I’m sorry. I’ve hurt you, and I have no right to do so. You don’t deserve it. I overreacted. I’m sure you aren’t the least bit like my pa. Not if you’re willing to make an effort to do something for Freddy. I hope you can forgive me for my outburst.”
He could have been made out of wood for all the emotion he showed.
“Rudy?” She edged closer. “Are you so angry at me you can’t forgive?” She was close enough to see his eyes. In the dim light she thought they appeared wider than normal. Shocked? Had she surprised him with her apology? Or was he so angry he couldn’t think? Why had she thought anything she said would make a difference one way or the other? Maybe she was thinking of her pa again. She seemed to have him and Rudy mixed up in her mind. Yes, Rudy reminded her of her pa. But he wasn’t the same. She shook her head, trying to clear the confusion. “Rudy, I’m truly sorry.”
He shook himself. A thin smile curved his mouth. “No one has ever said they were sorry for hurting me before.”
She chuckled. “Does that mean you forgive me?”
“It sure does.” His grin widened until it crinkled his eyes. “Lady, it sure does. Now let’s get ba
ck to your house.” He held the lantern high as they navigated the trail.
Happiness bubbled inside Joanna. It felt good to know she’d made peace with Rudy. And yet part of her heart felt tight and anxious. She knew the risks of caring too much. She wasn’t about to make that mistake.
Chapter 5
Joanna and Rudy slipped through the kitchen door. He dropped the bedrolls to the floor. The big dining room was dim, the table where they’d eaten had been shoved to one side, the benches pushed beneath it. Only one lamp burned as a man read. A chorus of snores shattered the silence.
Joanna sighed as she led him into the kitchen. The room was warm from the big range on one side and the smells of home cooking and wash water. A set of cupboards filled the better part of two walls. In daylight, a generous window would allow a view of the ferry and travelers. “Sure glad we don’t hear that racket in the bedroom.” She tipped her head toward the closed door indicating the room she meant. “Will you be able to sleep?”
He brought his thoughts back to her question. “We’ll be fine.” His gaze shifted to the table where Freddy sat with three young women. Cora, he’d met. The other two must be Joanna’s sisters. They eyed him suspiciously.
He went to Freddy. “Glad to see you’re okay.”
Freddy spared him a glower then gave him a good view of his back.
Rudy pretended it didn’t hurt and quirked an eyebrow at Joanna. He hoped she could see he’d tried. Freddy had made his feelings pretty evident.
She lifted one shoulder as if to suggest he would have to be patient. But his patience had about run out.
“Rudy, meet my sisters.”
They were cordial enough, but he felt much like a horse about to be sold to the highest bidder. He returned look for look, measuring and assessing every bit as much as they did. All three sisters had the same challenging gaze. All three dressed like women of the West, which, of course, they were. “Took you long enough to find him,” Glory said.
Mandy continued her blatant study of him. “Thought you might have had to run him to the ground ten miles down the road.”