Katie heaved a deep breath. “I did fine on the trip from Claremont. Besides, I need to get work so I can start saving money to rebuild my house and make my next mortgage payment.”
Rebekah laid her hand on Katie’s arm. “Sweetheart, don’t worry about that now. You have a home here for as long as you want. We love having you here.”
Inside the house, Katie heard the sound of breaking glass. Rebekah yanked her hand back and spun around, hurrying inside. “Don’t stay outside so long that you catch cold,” she called over her shoulder as she shut the door.
Katie sighed. Nobody understood how she felt. She loved her family, but after being on her own, she craved her independence. She wanted her cozy home back.
A gentle autumn breeze tickled her cheek and sent leaves from the nearby oak tree spiraling to the ground. Summers might be hot in the Oklahoma Territory, but autumn was wonderful with the cooler yet comfortable temperatures.
She stared off in the distance, wondering how she could get to town. Rebekah didn’t understand her driving need for independence. And why all the fuss? Riding to Guthrie didn’t take nearly as long as the trip from Claremont had taken, and she’d managed to travel that distance just fine. Well, maybe not fine, but she’d made it.
She’d have to keep thinking on it. Uncle Mason would tell her to pray, but God had let her down. He hadn’t saved her home or kept her from breaking her wrist.
Emotions swirled through her. She knew it was wrong to blame God. Bad things happened in life, like Jarrod’s accident and the fire. She’d drive herself crazy trying to sort it all out. Uncle Mason believed there was a purpose for everything that happened in life, and she thought she believed that also—until so many bad things occurred.
She looked up at the beautiful sky. She knew in her heart that God was in control and cared for His people, but she needed her mind to align with her heart.
A horse’s whinny drew her attention to the road coming from town. She narrowed her eyes and placed her hand on her brow to block the sun as she tried to see if she knew the rider on the dark horse.
Her heart flip-flopped. Dusty McIntyre had returned.
Hope surged through her body, making her limbs tremble. Dusty had said he’d do anything he could to help her. Perhaps she could get him to take her to town.
As Dusty rode up to the Danfield farm, he had a strange sense of coming home. Katie stood on the porch, leaning against the railing, as if waiting for him. Her long, damp hair hung down to her waist, drying in the light breeze like the flaxen mane of a wild mustang. Tingling sparks shot through his body, making him wish he had the right to run his hands through her hair.
Other than when he met Emily, he’d never cared if a woman favored him or not. But for some reason, he wanted Katie to be partial to him. Maybe it would assure him that she’d forgiven him for the trouble he’d caused her.
He nudged Shadow into a trot and quickly ate up the distance separating him and Katie. After hopping off his horse, he tied the gelding to the porch railing and climbed the steps. Katie now sat in a rocking chair with her hair behind her.
Dusty yanked off his hat, feeling a bit shy in her presence. He was never sure whether she’d be pleasant or bite his head off. Marshal White had told him that women were often extra-emotional when they were carrying. At least that had been the marshal’s experience with his wife.
“Afternoon. Why don’t you have a seat?” Katie waved her hand toward the other rocking chair.
He hesitated a moment, taken off guard by the kindness in her voice. As he passed her, he tried not to notice that her middle looked even bigger than it had last week. He averted his gaze but wondered how a body could stretch so much.
“I didn’t expect to see you again.” She laced her fingers and rested her hands across her big belly.
Dusty rolled the brim of his hat, not used to making small talk. He’d been alone for so long that he figured he wasn’t the best of company.
“Aunt Rebekah said you thought you might settle in Guthrie.”
He nodded and glanced her way, trying not to notice how pretty she looked when she wasn’t scowling. “I took a job as deputy marshal.” He didn’t think it proper to tell her he was rooming with Marshal White.
“That’s good. I’m sure the marshal was delighted to be able to hire someone with your experience and capabilities.”
Dusty wanted to allow his chest to swell with pride at her first compliment, but too many years of chasing crooks had taught him that when someone was handing out favors, it was usually because they desired something. Disappointed, he sat back in his chair and faced the barn instead of Katie. Was it too much to hope she might actually like him? What was it she wanted?
“So, did you come out to see Uncle Mason?”
“No, I rode out to check on you.”
“Me? Why would you feel that’s necessary? Uncle Mason and Aunt Rebekah are quite able to care for me, not that I need them to.”
Dusty darted a glance in her direction. Her cute little chin was lifted in the air as if he’d greatly offended her, and her eyes sparked with indignation. She reminded him of a fancy hen strutting around the barnyard.
“I intend to make sure you’re all right and to figure out a way to make up for the pain I’ve caused you.”
She peered at him, both curiosity and anger flashing in her eyes. “I don’t need you to take care of me.” She pushed herself up. “That’s the whole problem. I want to care for myself, but everyone seems bent on doing it for me.” Turning away, she awkwardly crossed her arms over her stomach.
Dusty stood and walked over to stand behind Katie. Her hair fell in golden waves, teasing him to reach out and run his fingers through it. He jerked his hand back as he came to his senses. This woman wouldn’t appreciate his advances.
Suddenly, she spun around. “There is one thing you could do for me, if you’re serious about helping me.”
Dusty held his breath as he studied her face. Her tanned complexion was much prettier and more natural than that of pale-faced city women who hid from the sun. Up close, her sapphire eyes had flecks of gray and several shades of blue. A smattering of soft freckles dotted her small nose, giving her a spunky, carefree look.
He knew he should be suspicious of her quick turnabout, but his mouth had suddenly gone too dry for him to respond.
She stepped closer, laying her uninjured hand on his arm. Goose bumps erupted at her touch, making him feel like a giddy schoolboy. He glanced at her lips, wishing he had the right to kiss them.
Katie stared up at him, as if she, too, were caught up in the magic of the moment. Was it possible she had some feelings for him? Why did he even care?
Katie cleared her throat, blinked her thick lashes, and took a step back. “I… uh… need to get to town. Uncle Mason is busy, and Jimmy’s gone. Could you possibly take me?”
Dusty stepped back and turned away, disappointed that her attentions had only been a ploy to get him to help her. He remembered Rebekah’s comment that Katie shouldn’t have traveled to their ranch in her condition. It could be bad for the baby. Well, he wouldn’t be part of causing her more pain. If he drove her to town and something happened to the baby, she’d just have another thing to blame him for, and he’d never forgive himself.
He faced her again. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.”
Katie hiked up her chin again. “Can’t? Or won’t?”
“You’ve got no business traveling to town in your”—he waved his hand toward her stomach—“condition.” Dusty was certain his ears were bright red.
Katie glared at him. “You’re just like the rest of them—wanting to keep me tied here to the ranch. All I want is a chance to talk to the dressmaker to see if she needs any help. I want to support myself and my child, not live off my relatives.”
He could understand her frustration, but she had a baby to worry about. “All you need to be thinking about right now is your child. The rest you can worry about later.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, the cast on her wrist reminding him once again of the pain he’d caused.
Katie dipped her brows, her eyes taking on a stormy glare. “What would you know about it? I lost my husband after only four months of marriage, my home, and everything I owned except my land. There’s no way this side of heaven you could know how I feel.”
Dusty closed his eyes and waited for the thunderstorm of pain and anger to subside. His stomach ached as if he’d been sucker punched when he wasn’t looking. He narrowed his gaze and took hold of Katie’s upper arms. Her eyes widened in surprise and apprehension. “Oh, I know how you feel all right. The difference is, you have a child to remember your husband by, but I’ve got nothing.”
He released her, ignoring the curiosity and repentance he saw in her gaze. He ran down the stairs, jumped onto Shadow, and rode off, hoping he’d never see Katie Hoffman again. He was done trying to please that persnickety woman.
seven
Dusty kicked Shadow into a gallop. Katie had no way of knowing how closely their losses were related. The difference was he bore his alone, while she had a whole houseful of people to help her, even if she didn’t want their help.
Even God had deserted him.
No, that wasn’t fair. He was the one who’d run off and left God behind when he was aching over Emily’s death. If only he knew how to find his way back.
But it was too late for him.
He eased Shadow to a trot, sorry for taking his frustration out on his trusted steed.
Had there ever been a more stubborn woman than Katie Hoffman?
The wind suddenly whipped out of the north, bringing with it colder temperatures and a threat of snow, which chilled his bones after the warm weather of the past week. It never ceased to amaze him how quickly the weather could change here. Though it was a bit early for snow, in Oklahoma, anything could happen weatherwise. Dusty reined Shadow to a halt, dismounted, and untied his duster from behind his saddle. He shrugged into the long, brown coat, leaving it open and billowing around his legs.
He studied the yellowed rolling hills. Some leaves still stubbornly clung to the trees, but in another month they’d be gone. He had never cared too much for winter and the hardships it brought.
Dusty sighed, wrestling with his feeling of unease. He’d thought after capturing Ed Sloane he would be content and could finally put his past behind him. Instead, he felt like something was missing in his life. Was it that he no longer had a goal? Had he been focused so long on capturing Sloane that he couldn’t settle down and live a normal life?
Shadow nickered, and Dusty tugged on the reins, pulling his horse closer. He patted the gelding’s soft muzzle.
He didn’t want to admit it, but he was jealous of Mason Danfield. Mason had a loving family, a nice home, and his heart was right with God. Maybe this restlessness in him had more to do with his walking away from God than capturing Sloane.
Dusty pressed down his hat, mounted Shadow, and urged the horse into a trot. His parents had been God-fearing people and raised him to be that way. But when things turned bad, he had ridden away from his friends and from God, preferring to suffer alone.
Was it possible for God to forgive a man who had hardened his heart against Him?
Dusty shook his head. No, he had to face facts. He’d blown his chance with God. There was nothing else left but to endure the rest of his life the best he could.
He thought about Katie. It was obvious she wanted nothing to do with him, unless he was willing to do things her way. That shouldn’t bother him, but it did.
He had to admire her stubborn desire for independence. Most women in her shoes would be satisfied to sit back and allow their family to take them in. But not Katie.
As he rode toward town, he considered how he might help her regain her independence. He wouldn’t bring her to town like she requested, but there had to be something he could do.
A strong gust of wind blew, chilling his belly. Lowering his eyes, he noticed the spot where he’d torn off a button when his shirt had snagged on the chair this morning. He shouldn’t have worn it this way, but his only other shirt was dirty. He’d traveled light when he was on the road, taking only one change of clothing. He would find a place and wash his dirty things, trading back and forth, but now that he had a town job and needed the respect of the people, he figured he ought to get some new clothes.
He sighed and thought of the store-bought clothes he’d had in the past. The problem was, being tall with long arms, he had trouble finding shirts with sleeves that fit comfortably. He much preferred custom-made shirts. As he rode into Guthrie, he scanned the signs for a tailor. It would be a good idea to get some made.
As if one of those newfangled electric lights had lit up in his mind, an idea started forming. A plan to help Katie and himself. He turned Shadow around and headed back to the mercantile.
Yep, he had just the idea that would help her take the first step to regain her independence.
“Aunt Rebekah, you need to let me help you more.” Katie dropped into the kitchen chair and watched her aunt and cousin washing the dishes. She’d cleaned off the table but didn’t want to admit the going back and forth had winded her.
“You do plenty around here. You need to take it easy these last weeks and save your strength for the birthing.”
Katie wanted to ask Rebekah just what was involved with that, but with Deborah in the room, she held her tongue.
Josh sauntered in, reminding her of her brother when he was fourteen. Tall, lanky, three-fourths man and one-fourth boy. Josh’s hair more closely resembled Rebekah’s medium brown than Mason’s black hair, but his features were more like his father’s.
“Pa said for me to get the food scraps for the hogs.”
Rebekah nodded her head toward the wooden bucket that held the vegetable scraps. Josh grabbed the pail and hurried out, looking uncomfortable in the women’s domain.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to show you.” Rebekah wiped her hands on a towel. “Deb, after you finish rinsing, dump the water on the green beans and join Katie and me in my room.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Deborah gave a smile that looked much like her mother’s.
It was interesting how Deborah had her father’s dark coloring, but her features more resembled her mother’s, just the opposite of Josh. Would Katie’s baby be a combination of her and Jarrod, or would it favor one side of the family more than the other? Katie stuck her little finger down the end of her cast and rubbed her itching arm as she followed Rebekah to her bedroom. Warm memories flashed through her mind of tiptoeing into her aunt and uncle’s bedroom with Jimmy and the other children and waking up Mason and Rebekah early on Christmas morning. As she glanced around, she noticed a new Flying Geese–patterned quilt covered the bed and curtains from a matching fabric hung from the window.
At the foot of the bed was an old trunk. Her aunt lifted the latch, and Katie peered over Rebekah’s shoulder to see what was inside. Her heart leaped when she saw the folded stacks of baby gowns, diapers, and blankets. That was another reason she needed to get to town—to get fabric to make some baby clothes.
Rebekah lifted a pale pink flannel gown and caressed it. “I made this for Susanna right after she was born. The twins pretty much wore out the clothing I had saved from the other children, so I needed new things for Sus—”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Rebekah.” Katie laid her hand on her aunt’s shoulder. “I never considered how my being here would stir up old memories or make things harder for you.”
Rebekah dotted her eyes. “No, I’m sorry. It’s just that I haven’t looked at these things since I put them away after Susanna’s death. It was too painful at first, but it’s good for me now. God has healed my pain, though I still miss my baby girl.”
“I know. I miss Jarrod, too, but the pain of his loss isn’t as sharp as it was at first.”
Rebekah hugged Katie. “Yes, God’s grace softens the ache of losing those we lov
e because we know we’ll see them again in heaven.”
Katie wanted to believe that—knew it was true. She needed to forgive God—and Dusty—but she didn’t know how.
“Look at this! Oh, I hope you have a girl. My friends gave me so many darling things after I had Susanna.” She held up a tiny mint green cotton dress with smocking across the chest and flowers embroidered over it.
“Oh, how precious! That dress almost makes me want a girl, though I have to be honest. I’m hoping for a son to carry on the Hoffman name.”
“I don’t blame you. Mason was so excited our first child was a boy. Do you remember? You were only five back then.”
Katie shook her head, reached in the trunk, and picked up a soft, crocheted blanket. “No, I don’t remember his reaction, just that I wanted to hold Josh all the time.”
Rebekah dug farther down in the stack of clothes and pulled out a long, white, lacy gown. “All my children were dedicated to God in this. It would make me so happy if you were to have your child dedicated in it.”
Katie blinked. She hadn’t even thought about that. Could she dedicate their child to the Lord if she was still angry with Him?
“You are planning to have your child dedicated, aren’t you?”
Katie looked at her aunt. “I hadn’t even thought about it until you mentioned it.”
Rebecca glanced down and fingered a pastel blue blanket. “Katie, are you letting your grief build a wall between you and God?”
She heard the concern in her aunt’s voice and nodded her head.
Rebekah put her arm around Katie’s shoulders. “I can’t pretend to know what it feels like to lose a spouse. I lost my mother, younger brother, and two children, but to be a newlywed and to lose my husband… Well, I don’t know the pain that you’ve endured because of that. But Mason does. You should talk with him, Katie. He can help you.”
Her aunt squeezed Katie’s shoulders. “I can only love you and encourage you to talk to God. He knows your pain and can help you through—if you’ll let Him.”
A Bounty Hunter and the Bride Page 6