Brides of Idaho

by Ford, Linda;

  “Glad to.” He headed for the door. “What are you going to do about the stopping house?”

  “I’ve sent a letter to another man who expressed interest after Mr. Tisdale. This other man has a wife. Maybe it would work better for a married couple.”

  “So you’re still planning to leave?”

  “Why?”

  “Freddy was hoping you’d stay.”

  “Why would it matter to Freddy?”

  He’d said more than he should. Told himself it was about Freddy, but Freddy couldn’t stay if Rudy didn’t.

  She stared at him so hard her eyes narrowed. “You better not be thinking of riding away and leaving him here.”

  His heart ached for her. And for him. To her he was simply another man who would likely make promises and then break them. “I was thinking just the opposite, but you will never trust a man, will you?”

  “I’ve never had much reason to.”

  He crossed his arms. “Maybe it’s time to change your mind.”

  She shook her head, half turned away then spun back to face him. “What do you mean, you were thinking the opposite?”

  He’d been thinking he might be wanting to stay, settle down even. But if she couldn’t figure that out, he wasn’t going to tell her. “You and I are far too much alike.” Both so mistrustful of the opposite sex.

  Before she could demand an explanation, he left to tackle the woodpile as he’d promised.

  He wished he could undo all the disappointments Joanna’s pa and likely a dozen other men had dished out to her. He wished he could be what she needed. But he wasn’t. He was virtually homeless, which, until now, had been just fine. Now his situation simply made him realize how little he had to offer anyone like Freddy. And if his regrets also brought Joanna to mind… Well, what difference did it make? He was the last thing she needed.

  Cutting wood proved a good antidote for the regrets burning his veins. But he wondered how it would help Freddy see he didn’t hate him.

  Chapter 6

  Joanna had work to do. Her load wouldn’t let up until winter brought an ease to the number of people traveling. Or until she sold. But she couldn’t concentrate on her tasks. What did Rudy mean, they were too much alike? She wasn’t a wanderer, waiting for a chance to ride off into the sunset, footloose and fancy-free.

  But deep down, she knew what he meant.

  They both were wary about trusting others, each with their own good reason.

  Drawn to the window, she watched him swing the ax, splitting logs one after the other, wood chips scattering around him, chopping more wood in twenty minutes than she would in two hours. It was somehow soothing and reassuring to watch. And enjoyable with the autumn sun shining like it had to get every last ray blasted out before winter. She leaned her hip against the cupboard and enjoyed the sight. Never before had she been so fascinated by work.

  Cora clattered in the door, and Joanna jerked away from her guilty contemplation, her cheeks stinging. She had too much work to waste time staring mindlessly out the window. But Cora didn’t seem to notice.

  “Sorry I had to be away for a bit.”

  Joanna didn’t care. “You’re free to come and go whenever you want.” She’d never had reason to worry about Cora doing the agreed-upon chores. But Cora’s blush caught her interest. “What’s Austin up to?”

  Cora fluttered her hands. “Why do you mention Austin?”

  “Oh, certain little things give me reason to think he’s on your mind. Like your rosy cheeks. They aren’t pink from cold. And the way your eyes seem lit from inside.” She leaned closer. “In fact, you look like someone in love.” Not that Joanna was surprised. From the beginning she’d guessed at Austin’s feelings. Knew it wouldn’t take long for Cora to realize how he felt.

  “You’re right. I went to see Austin. He’s going to be away for a few days.”

  “Oh?” Away could mean anything, but Joanna’s caution waved red flags.

  “He wants to ride to the gold fields and take photos of the men and what they do.”

  “Sounds interesting.” Austin had a keen interest in taking pictures. But Joanna wondered how far he would ride and when he’d return. She didn’t want Cora to wait helplessly day after day like she and her sisters had done most of their lives.

  Cora made a tsking sound. “I know you wonder if he’ll come back, but I have complete faith in him.” She gave Joanna a challenging look. “Someday you are going to learn there are men you can trust.” She moved to the cupboard and saw Rudy at the woodpile. “Just be careful to choose the right man.”

  “You can count on it.” She understood Cora’s warning about Rudy. Joanna already knew he wasn’t the sort of man to build a dream on. He should have footloose and fancy-free branded to his forehead.

  But she’d promised to help him win Freddy’s friendship, so she went in search of the boy. He sat on the edge of the veranda, the cat purring on his lap.

  She sat down beside him. “Seems the cat likes you.”

  “She’s lonely and needs a friend.”

  Don’t we all? “Then she’s fortunate you came along.”

  “You think so?”

  “I certainly do.”

  He buried his face in the cat’s fur. Freddy was lonely and afraid. She understood that. But he had to stop pushing people away if he wanted things to change.

  Something inside her stirred, like an invisible hand using a big spoon on her innards. Did she push people away, too? Was she responsible for her loneliness?

  She didn’t have time to consider the answers. “Freddy, I have some chores for you. Your uncle is chopping wood that needs to be stacked in the shed.”

  “Why?”

  She assumed he meant, Why does the wood need to be put in the shed? “To keep it dry. Come on, I’ll show you what to do.”

  He reluctantly bade the cat good-bye and followed.

  Rudy wiped his forehead on his sleeve as he watched them approach. His gaze clung to Joanna, searching.

  She tried to guess what he hoped to see. Or was she the one who wanted to see something? Like roots growing from his boots and anchoring to bedrock so he wouldn’t be riding off in the blue yonder at first opportunity? She stilled such thoughts. As Cora said, if she meant to start trusting a man, better pick one who wouldn’t leave.

  Exerting her well-honed self-control, she jerked her gaze away. “Freddy is going to help you stack the wood.”

  “I could use some help.”

  She turned to Freddy. “Your uncle will show you what to do.”

  No missing the stubborn set of Freddy’s lips.

  She signaled Rudy to join her to one side. When he did, she tried not to think about the warmth coming from his body or the way he stood with his fists on his hips, looking like he owned the world. She put a few more inches between them then found she had to lean closer so Freddy wouldn’t overhear her words. “Maybe if you work together stacking the wood…”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Okay then.” She was done here, but she didn’t move. Couldn’t seem to remember how. Joanna, stop being so silly. “I’ll leave you to it.” She jerked toward the house.

  Later, her wits collected, she began preparations for the meals of the day. She only served breakfast and the evening meal to paying customers, but those who lived and worked at the stopping house needed a noon meal. Cora had a pot of soup simmering, and Joanna mixed up biscuits, chuckling when she recalled Mr. Tisdale’s thoughts on a menu. She told Cora about it, and they shared a laugh.

  As she worked near the cupboard, she had a good view of the woodpile. But she paid little attention to the wood. Instead, she watched Rudy and Freddy work together. They seemed to have some competition going. First, Rudy would load Freddy’s arms as high as he could, and the boy would stagger to the shed to deposit his load. They would be inside for a few minutes. No doubt stacking the wood in neat rows.

  Then the pair came out, and Rudy sat on the chopping block while Freddy gathe
red up wood and stacked Rudy’s arms high. And higher until Rudy’s face disappeared behind the pile.

  Freddy stood back and waited for his uncle to rise.

  Rudy eased upward, the wood teetering. He managed to gain his feet and edged toward the shed. He took three steps before pieces began slipping away. He staggered, trying to stop the avalanche. Failed. Most of the wood clattered to the ground, leaving Rudy with only a handful in his arms.

  Freddy laughed loudly enough for his voice to reach the kitchen.

  Cora joined Joanna at the window. “What are they doing?”

  “Who cares? Freddy is enjoying himself.”

  Across the distance, Rudy’s gaze found Joanna’s, and they shared a moment of delight in this victory. Her pleasure washed through her insides.

  The day had passed pleasantly enough, Rudy decided as he sat at the kitchen table after supper. The dishes had been cleaned up, and he’d helped Cora move the table and benches in the dining room, now ready for men to bed down. Cora informed him Joanna wouldn’t let the men inside for a bit. The work done up for the evening, the four of them—Cora, Joanna, Rudy, and Freddy—sat around the smaller table enjoying tea and cookies.

  It had been a good day. He enjoyed working around the yard, chopping wood, stacking it, repairing the door on the woodshed, caulking up the cracks to keep the snow and rain out. How many times had he glanced up to watch Joanna hurrying around the yard for one thing or another or working in front of the kitchen window? Several times she’d looked up at the same time, and their gazes had connected. Each time a shot of something strangely like static electricity had raced along his nerves. He’d told himself it meant nothing. Neither of them had plans to stay here. Nor plans to get tied down.

  Though Freddy certainly put a knot in those plans for Rudy.

  He’d even enjoyed a few moments with Freddy before the boy pulled back and favored him with his familiar scowl. He’d made a game of carrying the wood into the shed. See who could carry the highest load. Then he purposely let his tumble for the sole reason of hearing Freddy laugh.

  Yup, it had been a downright decent day. How many more could he expect?

  He knew the answer. Not many.

  “Tomorrow is Sunday,” Joanna announced.

  He allowed his gaze to turn toward her, though he’d been fighting the notion since they sat down.

  Her smile included them all, but if he wasn’t mistaken, it rested a little longer, and perhaps a little warmer, on him.

  “We’ll go to church up the hill; then we always have a family dinner here.”

  That would explain the big roast she had waiting in the cool of the icehouse. And the extra pot of potatoes ready to set on the stove.

  “Aw.” Freddy hung his head and looked around, half discouraged. “Do I have to go?” He looked from Joanna to Rudy as if wondering who had the authority to say he could skip the service.

  “I guess if Miss Joanna says we go, then we’ll go.” Rudy didn’t much care for the idea himself but kept his opinion silent. He hadn’t darkened the door of a church since—

  With a start, he realized the last time he’d attended church was with Betty on his arm. He’d still been expecting her to marry him in two weeks’ time. Three days later, she and Joe had made their treacherous announcement. He’d ridden away within the hour.

  And left behind so many things.

  “I think you might find this preacher to your liking.” Joanna spoke to Freddy but darted a look at Rudy. “Levi is married to my sister, Glory. She calls him the rawhide preacher.”

  Freddy eased forward to perch on the edge of his chair. “How come?”

  “Because of the rawhide vest he wears. It has fringes and big silver medallions on the yoke. Glory thought at first he was an outlaw. She said no preacher would wear such a vest.” She chuckled, her gaze fully on Rudy now. “It took a bit of work for Levi to convince Glory he was truly a preacher and not some bad guy pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes.”

  “He wasn’t a bad guy?” Freddy sat back, so disappointed Joanna laughed.

  “No, but he’s no sissy. No man who marries one of the buffalo—one of us—could be.”

  “Buffalo? What were you about to say?”

  “Nothing.”

  He looked at Cora. She grinned. Her eyes sparkled.

  “Cora, you best keep it to yourself,” Joanna warned.

  Cora laughed, her eyes brimming over with fun. “I won’t say anything. I promise.”

  Rudy studied Joanna with a great deal of curiosity. “You weren’t buffalo hunters, were you? Somehow I can see the three of you bagging one of those huge creatures and skinning it out.”

  “I never in my life shot a buffalo.” She tried to look disinterested, as if hoping the subject would end.

  Cora giggled but kept mum.

  Rudy determined he would find out. One way or another. On the same breath he decided he would attend church for the pleasure of accompanying Joanna, if nothing else.

  Sunday morning edged with hurry. Hurry and get breakfast served. Hurry and clean up. Then Joanna and Cora slipped to their rooms to prepare for church.

  Rudy and Freddy stepped into the small bedroom off the main room, reserved for female travelers. He pulled his best shirt from the bag and examined it. Not too badly wrinkled. A brown shirt worn many times before, but he liked it and saved it for special occasions. Mostly it had been used for Saturday nights to town. He avoided the saloons but often found a literary society offering readings or performances of a play. Sometimes a special singer entertained.

  He dug in the bag and found a string tie in the bottom. That ought to dress things up good enough. He slicked back his hair then turned his attention to Freddy.

  “A good scrubbing wouldn’t hurt you.” He’d never thought of the physical needs of the boy, somehow assuming he was old enough to take care of himself. But closer examination revealed certain deficits. “Wait here while I get a washcloth and towel.”

  “I don’t need washing.” Freddy looked ready to bolt.

  Rudy nailed him to the floor with his don’t-mess-with-me look, surprised it had an effect on the boy. “You wait. Besides, you wouldn’t want Miss Joanna to be ashamed of us, would you?”

  The boy fought an internal battle that played out on his face. Would he continue to defy Rudy simply to prove he didn’t like him, or give in for Joanna’s sake? At the moment Freddy seemed to care more about Joanna’s opinion than proving he hated Rudy. Still, Rudy dashed out and back in record time, getting water to wash the boy before Freddy changed his mind.

  Ignoring the muttered complaints, he scrubbed Freddy’s neck and removed a shovelful of dirt from his ears. Then he dug through the boy’s belongings, surprised at how few things he had and how ragged they were. “Didn’t Grandma buy you clothes?”

  “Why should she? I wasn’t her kid.”

  Anger as raw as a smoldering forest fire tore through Rudy’s insides. Freddy was her grandson. Didn’t that count? The son of her favorite child. Was his mother capable of loving only one Canfield male—Joe? “She must have forgotten.” Such inadequate words. But if Freddy was half as aware of Ma’s indifference as Rudy had been, there were no words to make it right. “Seems like we need to make a trip to the store tomorrow and see what we can find for a boy your size.”

  Freddy looked interested—for about one second. He shrugged. “Don’t matter.”

  Rudy let the statement pass without comment. He finally found a half-decent shirt and a pair of patched overalls. “At least they’re clean. Put them on, then we’ll see to your hair.”

  He tried to tame the thatch of black hair, but it was thick with dirt. And long enough to tie back. Tomorrow might involve finding a barber as well.

  They returned to the dining room to wait.

  Cora slipped out, fresh and pretty in a pink dress, her fair hair tied back with pink ribbons. A beautiful girl.

  Joanna followed on her heels. She wore a newish-looking split skirt. He
’d seen her in nothing else. But she wore a blue shirt that made her eyes seem a deeper brown. Her hair had been brushed until it gleamed. She’d tied it back with a bit of leather that held a row of beads. Her cowboy boots were soft suede.

  He thought he’d never seen a better-looking woman—a woman ready to face challenges, yet—from the few days he’d known her—with a tender touch and an efficient but kind manner.

  “Something wrong?” she asked.

  He’d been staring. “No. I like your hair.” He slammed his hat on his head and bolted for the door. Now she would wonder if he’d lost his mind. He wondered the same thing.

  But outside, he had no place to run, not if he wanted to accompany her to church. And he did. He hadn’t spent fifteen minutes greasing down his hair and Freddy’s only to change his mind. He ground to a halt and waited for the others.

  Cora and Joanna came out arm in arm, with Freddy lagging behind.

  Joanna met Rudy’s gaze, darted her attention away, then brought it back and gave a fleeting smile.

  He’d embarrassed them both. He couldn’t explain why he’d complimented her hair when he normally kept his thoughts to himself.

  “Let’s be on our way,” she said, clinging to Cora’s arm as they strode through the heart of Bonners Ferry and headed up the hill.

  Rudy followed, mentally kicking himself with every step.

  They arrived at a large, sun-drenched clearing with a breathtaking view of the river valley. Three buildings gleamed in their newness—a large house he guessed was the mission, a church with a steeple, and beyond, a barn with about a dozen horses in the pen outside.

  A handful of people made their way into the church. Joanna led them to join the others gathering for worship.

  The interior was surprisingly bright, with a row of windows facing east. They made their way into a wooden pew, the seats and backs polished smooth. Someone had spent hours turning the rough lumber into something worthy of a church.

  Cora slipped in first, then Joanna preceded Rudy. He considered shoving Freddy in front of him, but for some inexplicable reason, he shoved him behind and seated himself next to Joanna.