Montana Cowboy's Baby

by Linda Ford

  Sammy grew restless. “I’m hungry.”

  “You just ate.”

  “No, I didn’t. Dinner was hours ago.” He eased to his feet, conscious of the watching horses. “You think Aunt Annie has any cookies in the house?”

  “Why don’t we go find out?” It would give him an excuse to see what Kate and the others were doing.

  “I’m hungry,” Sammy announced as he burst into the house.

  “You’re always hungry,” Sadie said.

  “No, I’m not. I’m not hungry when I’m sleeping.” He sidled up to Annie. “You are the bestest cookie maker.”

  “I thought I was.” Sadie sounded hurt though her eyes flashed with amusement.

  “You are in our house.” Sammy managed to look completely sincere, which brought a chuckle from the adults.

  Annie pulled a tin from the shelf and took off the lid. “You want one of these?”

  Sammy’s hand went to the tin. He paused. “Only one?”

  “You can have two.”

  His shoulders fell and he looked desperate.

  “All right, you can have three.”

  He brightened and took the cookies. “Thanks. I’m going outside to talk to Grandfather. Maybe I’ll go see what Grandpa Bud is doing.”

  Annie passed the cookies around. Soon they were crowded about the table again, chatting. Ellie slept in Beth’s arms, but when Kate offered to put the baby in her bed, Beth begged to be allowed to hold her. Jeannie leaned against her big sister, watching the baby.

  “Kate, isn’t it something to be part of a big, warmhearted family?” Isabelle turned to explain to the others. “We’re both only children and grew up lonely for this kind of belonging and connection. Isn’t that right, Kate?”

  But Kate got a startled look on her face, bolted from the table and out the door.

  *

  Isabelle’s question slammed into Kate with the force of a winter blizzard. Her face felt hot and then cold. Her chest muscles refused to work. Her stomach churned. Her wooden legs carried her from the house.

  She didn’t slow her steps until she reached a tree. She leaned her head against it, panting for breath. The rough bark dug into the skin of her forehead. She pressed harder into the trunk, welcoming the pain. Wishing it would erase all else, make it impossible to think…to remember…to feel. But the memory circled again and again, each time increasing in strength and clarity. Each time bringing a fresh wave of pain.

  Needing something to anchor her, she grasped the solid tree with both hands.

  “Please, God, make it stop.”

  But she couldn’t forget. Didn’t want to forget. She wanted the memory to stay and the pain to go.

  “Kate.” A warm hand touched her shoulder. “What’s wrong?” Concern filled Conner’s voice. “Are you ill?”

  She shuddered, tried to calm her ragged breathing. She couldn’t speak. Could only rock her head back and forth.

  He caught her by the shoulders and eased her away from the tree. “Talk to me.”

  Her gaze went past him to the distance. An invisible distance existing only in her mind.

  She had no ability to make her feet obey her, yet he got her to move a few steps to a fallen tree. He turned her and pulled her down to sit beside him. He put his arm about her shoulders and pulled her tight to his side.

  She clung to his hand and pressed her face to the hollow at his shoulder. He was an anchor. A solid rock.

  “Tell me what’s going on.”

  His voice rumbled beneath her ear, settling into her trembling heart, encouraging her to speak. But how could she? How could she admit this awful thing? How could she bare her fickle heart?

  “Whatever is wrong, I want to help you.”

  His gentle voice, the thought of how he cradled Ellie so tenderly, his loyalty to the baby even though she wasn’t his daughter, tugged at her resistance.

  But tugging equally hard in the opposite direction was his loyalty to his family. “You would never understand,” she whispered hoarsely.

  His arm tightened about her. “I don’t think it’s fair to judge me without giving me a chance.”

  “Family means so much to you.”

  He paused a moment before he continued. “I can’t deny that, but it doesn’t mean I don’t care about anyone outside the family.”

  She couldn’t miss the hurt note in his voice.

  He added, “I should think taking care of Ellie has proved that to you.”

  It was true. Only more reason to feel he wouldn’t understand how she could have—

  “I had two brothers.”

  “I see.”

  “I don’t think you do.” She would have pulled away, but he held her tight and she subsided. “You must wonder why I’ve never mentioned them before now.”

  “I expect you have your reasons.”

  She jerked from his grasp and leaned over her knees. “I forgot about them.” A sob caught in the back of her throat. She coughed to clear it. “How is it possible to forget them? They were older than me. I guess I saw them as a little distant. It was Mama who filled my days. And Papa who caught me and tossed me into the air. Who tucked me into bed at night. Still, to completely forget them.” She shuddered.

  “Tell me about them.”

  “Johnny and Martin. They were thirteen and fourteen. Almost as big as Papa. They both worked with him.” She lifted her head and stared into the blue sky, seeing back into her memories. “They used to have races and Johnny always won even though he was younger. I stood at the sidelines cheering them on.” The gate unlocked now, words poured forth. The memories overwhelmed her and she had to give them voice. She told of playing hide-and-seek with them. Of games of tag. Of being taken to the barn to see the newborn kittens or the unsteady new foal. She told of trips to town and attending church as a family. And then she couldn’t go on.

  He had pulled her back into his arms and held her tight.

  She clung to the fabric of his shirt, warm from his body.

  He rubbed her back and thankfully said nothing.

  Slowly the rest of it came. “It was sitting around the table, laughing, telling jokes, listening to each other that made me remember.” She eased back to look into his face. “We used to do that. We were like your family. Happy, noisy, funny.” She sighed and rested her cheek against his shoulder. “The Bakers aren’t. It wasn’t until I took over the household chores that we even sat down together. Before that, it was dish up our plate from the stove and eat on the run. Conversations centered around patients, plans, medical findings.” She paused. “I don’t mean to speak critically of my family.”

  He pressed his hand to the back of her head, warm, strong, protective.

  She let the feeling soothe her pain.

  “You must miss your birth parents and your brothers so much.”

  She jerked back. “How could I forget Johnny and Martin? It doesn’t make sense.”

  He held her hand. “Kate, maybe your memories were too painful, so you shut them out.”

  “For eighteen years? That seems a little excessive.”

  He lifted one shoulder as if to say he didn’t have any answers. Not that she expected him to.

  She bolted to her feet and took three steps away, then turned and stared at him. “I don’t remember seeing them when Mama and Papa were so sick. Where were they? Were they there and I don’t remember it?” She shook her head, but it did nothing to clear her thoughts.

  Conner rose and closed the distance between them, taking her in his arms. “Kate, you were so young.”

  She remained stiff in his arms. “How can I be so…so…unnatural.” She pushed back. “You’d never forget anyone in your family.”

  “I’m not four and have not just lost everyone.” His smile was gentle, forgiving. “Your world had turned upside down.”

  “That’s no excuse.” Her harsh words ended on a wail. “But where were they? Why can’t I see them with Mama and Papa?”

  She left his arms, left
his shelter and strength. She didn’t deserve any of it. “Where were they?” she repeated.

  Her memories faded and twisted, fleeting images of her brothers and her parents. The house they’d lived in. The table they’d gathered round. The church they’d attended. The barn. Her bedroom. Her parents’ room, where they had lain burning up with a fever that couldn’t be cured. Her room was next to theirs. Her brothers shared a room on the other side.

  Their room was empty.

  With a cry of pain, she sank to the ground. “They were already gone.”

  Conner sat beside her and held her tight, her back to him as he rocked her back and forth.

  “They got sick first. I can’t remember how much earlier than Mama and Papa. But they were already gone. Their room was empty. All that mattered to me was seeing my parents grow weaker. Grammie came and stayed until the end.”

  He drew her to her feet and led her back to the log, where they sat side by side, his arms cradling her.

  She shuddered. “I miss them. I miss having family. I loved the Bakers and I love Father, but it’s not the same.” Her voice caught. “It will never be the same. There’s no point in wishing for it. My life is different now. I will become a doctor and serve others.”

  “Will that be enough?” His gentle voice raced through her thoughts.

  “I can’t undo the past.”

  He tipped his head against hers. “But you can seek a future that meets your needs.”

  She wanted to look into his eyes, try to judge what he meant, but she didn’t want to end the pressure of his arms nor withdraw from the warmth of his chest. “I will honor my parents and Grammie and my family by helping those who are sick.” It made sense. “Perhaps I can do something to spare another family the pain I’ve known.”

  “It’s noble.”

  She heard the doubt in his voice and leaned back to watch his expression. “But?”

  His smile was tender, his blue eyes full of caring. “Will it be enough? Will it fill the hole in your heart?”

  The question unsettled her enough to bring her to her feet and away from his comfort. “It’s what I am meant to do.” But for the first time since she’d gone to live with the Bakers and become their daughter with the express purpose of learning to be a doctor, she wondered if—

  No, she would allow no doubts.

  “I’m sorry for taking you from your family. I must go and apologize. And I’ll need to feed Ellie again.” Her words tumbled out…a tangle of excuses.

  He caught her hand and stopped her from rushing away. “You didn’t take me from anything. I came because I was concerned.” He looked deep into her eyes. “I’m still concerned. I think remembering your brothers and realizing they are gone must feel like losing them all over again.”

  At the truth of his words, she burst into tears.

  Chapter Six

  Conner held Kate gently as she sobbed into his shirt. She was so fragile, he feared to tighten his arms about her. He could not fathom the pain of remembering two brothers just to realize they were gone. His insides were raw, torn by the stories she had told. Stories of a warm, loving, noisy family similar to his and a marked contrast to the Baker home though he’d always felt the kindness and caring of the Bakers’ home.

  It was plain that she missed her family. He couldn’t help wondering if her desire to become a doctor was fueled in part by a desire to avoid more pain. By closing herself off to family, she perhaps hoped to protect her heart. Of course, there were more noble reasons as well. Promises to her grandmother and her adoptive parents and a desire to help those in a situation similar to what she’d endured.

  Her sobbing subsided and she rested in his arms.

  He longed for words of comfort and wished he could offer more…wisdom and insight that would enable her to look at her decision with open honesty.

  He could let it go. Offer her nothing but sympathy, but would that be fair to their friendship? Didn’t friends speak the truth to one another in love?

  “Kate, I think you owe it to yourself to honestly examine your reasons for wanting to become a doctor.” She stiffened and he tightened his arms about her, wanting her to hear him. “I know it’s noble and serves mankind. Just be sure your decision isn’t made out of guilt. Or the hope you can escape more pain.”

  She pushed free of his arms. “What are you talking about?” Her gaze shafted through him, accusing him of being unsympathetic.

  He told her his thoughts on avoiding family, not because she couldn’t combine that with a medical career, but because she didn’t want to risk the pain.

  “Conner, you are sadly mistaken. Please, don’t give me your opinion on the matter again and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone what I’ve revealed to you.” Her head high, every step a sharp scolding, she marched toward the house.

  He kept pace with her but had nothing to say. He had done his best, intending to help, and instead had made her angry. He didn’t regret telling her what he thought, but still, he wished for a different outcome.

  Her anger would make it awkward to be together as they cared for Ellie.

  She paused before she reached the house and slowly came round to face him. “I’ll check on Mattie. If she’s well enough, Isabelle can care for Ellie. There will be no need for me to stay here.”

  His thoughts crashed to a halt. She couldn’t leave. How would he manage? “Kate, I’m sorry if I’ve offended you. Please don’t let it drive you away.”

  She considered him. Then her eyebrows went up. “No doubt you’ll interpret my leaving as another indication that I am running from something. But you would be wrong. I need to do what I need to do.” Her eyes narrowed. “I am going to medical school. It’s what my parents—both sets—would want me to do. It’s what Grammie wanted me to do. It’s what I want to do.” She went into the house.

  He followed more slowly, regretting every angry moment. Just when he had begun to think she might care for him. And he’d let himself care for her. Why hadn’t he kept his mouth shut?

  He might say it was out of concern for her future. That would be true, but he couldn’t deny there also existed a touch of selfish desire. He wanted her to see how lonely her future would be if she insisted on denying she needed or wanted a family of her own. He wanted her to see him as a part of her future.

  Grandfather and Dr. Baker sat on tipped-back chairs on the veranda, watching as they approached.

  “Everything okay?” the doctor asked, eyeing Kate.

  “Everything is fine.” She smiled. “I just had a moment of upset. Nothing to be concerned about.”

  “Good.”

  “Glad it wasn’t anything serious,” Grandfather said as he lowered his chair to all fours. “Doc and I have been talking. He mentioned that we might have saved some of the buildings in the fire if we’d had some kind of warning system. You know, a way to alert everyone. It took far too long to get enough help on the scene. We’ve come up with a solution. A church bell.” He looked pleased with himself. “We’ll have a fund-raiser for the bell and you two are in charge.”

  “Us?” Conner and Kate spoke in unison, shock in both voices.

  Conner swallowed. Work together with Kate when she was angry at him? That did not seem appealing. “We can pass the hat at church.”

  Grandfather gave him a look meant to quell any further dissention. “We could, but how much fun would that be? Boy, I’m in need of some fun and socializing and I’m expecting you and Kate to come up with something that will involve the community more than dropping a few coins into a hat.”

  “Father?” Kate’s voice dripped with appeal.

  “It’s an excellent idea. It will give you something to do while you wait to go to medical school.”

  “I don’t need anything to do,” she protested.

  “Except let me manage on my own so you’ll be comfortable leaving me when the time comes.”

  Out of the corners of his eyes, Conner watched her squeeze her hands into little balls.


  “I don’t see how we can plan anything,” he said, keeping his voice calm in the hopes of convincing everyone they should listen to him. “Kate is returning to town.”

  “As soon as possible,” she added. “In fact, I’ll go check on Mattie and see if she’s well enough for Isabelle to take over Ellie’s care.”

  “I’ve already examined her,” Dr. Baker said. “She’s fine and Isabelle is with the baby as we speak.”

  Conner let out his pent-up breath. “Well, that solves it. We don’t have time to plan anything. I’ll pass the hat next Sunday.”

  Grandfather favored him with a bushy-browed scowl. “Dear boy. You ever heard of riding into town to see her? Do I have to tell you every little thing?”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to say this wasn’t little at all, but at Grandfather’s deepening scowl Conner thought better of the idea. He brought up one more argument. “What about Ellie?”

  “What about her? Isn’t Isabelle going to be looking after her? Or take her to town with you. People take babies to town all the time. Or hadn’t you noticed?” Grandfather tipped his chair back with a grunt.

  Then he dropped his chair to all fours again and banged one of his canes on the floor. “I know just the thing. We’ll have a county fair. The ladies can bring in their sewing and baking and have it judged. The men can show off samples of their hay. There can be food booths and stuff like that.”

  “An excellent plan,” Dr. Baker said, beaming his approval.

  “There you go.” Grandfather waved his hand in a benevolent gesture. “Now all you have to do is make the arrangements.”

  Oh, yes, that was all they had to do. Practically a mere nothing.

  Tossing her hands upward in a sign of frustration, Kate hurried past the older men and into the house.

  Conner stayed long enough to give his grandfather a disbelieving look, then followed her inside.

  “You’re doing very well.” Her voice came from the sitting room and he went through.

  Isabelle held Ellie as the baby drank the milk from the bottle. Isabelle had a look of adoration on her face.