by Lough, Loree
Or could he?
“And the Yellow Rose of Texas shall be mine forevermore.”
His? Forever? If only! Why, his whole life would take on a new and wonderful meaning if—
“What are you grinning about?”
Even before he opened his eyes, Josh knew that Dinah was smiling, for he could hear it in her voice. “Just enjoying the pretty music, that’s all.”
The rustle of material told him she’d gotten to her feet, and the crunch of sun-dried grass meant she had left his grandmother’s side to move closer to him. “Bet you didn’t know a woman could snore like that,” he said, sitting up taller.
Dinah glanced back at Mee-Maw, whose chin had dropped to her chest as she slept. “Dr. Lane says it’s to be expected.” She knelt beside him. “Because of the apoplexy.”
“Nonsense.”
She looked surprised, but only mildly so. “I’d hardly call her condition ‘nonsense.’”
The breeze had mussed her hair, loosing several tendrils, which fluttered around her face. Josh resisted the urge to smooth them back into place. “Snoring might be a symptom in other patients, but it’s nothing new for Mee-Maw.”
Dinah tidied her skirt. “I know. She told me that one evening after Dr. Lane left.” She giggled, then said, “I realize that you have chores to do, so, really, I hope you don’t feel that you have to stay. I promise to watch over her as if she were my own grandmother. And, when she wakes up, I’m sure I can find someone to help get her back inside.”
Frowning, Josh sat up and rested his arms on his knees. “Is that why you think I’m here? To keep an eye on you, make sure you’ll take proper care of her?”
Dinah shrugged, as if to say, “Why else?” Instead, she said, “It’s perfectly understandable. She means so much to you, to your whole family, so, of course, you want to ensure that—”
“She couldn’t be in better hands. I know that as well as I know my own name.”
She muttered something unintelligible under her breath, then fiddled with her hair ribbon. Long, flowing tresses poured down her back as she attempted to repair the damage done by the wind. Just as she prepared to twist it up again, he caught her wrist. “Please don’t,” he said. “It’s too beautiful to bind up in a matronly bun.”
“Then how, exactly, do you propose I keep this mess out of my face?”
“The last thing I’d call it is a mess.” Josh combed his fingers through her curls to hold them in place, then rested both thumbs on her cheekbones. “There. It’s out of your face now.”
She laughed and clasped both his wrists with her hands. “Well, now, isn’t this just as silly as silly can be? You can’t sit here all day, holding my hair in place.”
If only I could, he thought.
Mee-Maw snorted, and Dinah used the interruption as her excuse to scramble to her feet and run to her side. “Her tea is cold,” she called softly to Josh, lifting the cup and saucer. “If you can spare just a few minutes more to stay with her while I fix another cup—”
“Mee-Maw is off in dreamland,” he said as he relieved her of the china. “If she wants more tea, you can get it for her when she wakes up.”
Cupping her elbows, Dinah took one step backward. Did it mean she thought he intended to repeat the moonlight kiss? Or that she was still bristling over the clumsy apology it had prompted?
He returned the cup and saucer to the table beside Mee-Maw’s chair. Dinah hadn’t elaborated on her past, and Josh hadn’t asked about it, partly because he didn’t like poking his nose into other people’s affairs and partly because he didn’t know what he might be tempted to do if she named the thug who had used her as a punching bag.
He pretended that his grandmother’s blanket needed tidying, frowning as he tucked it into the cushions that supported her frail body. Thanks to that wanted poster, he had a pretty good idea where Dinah had been before appearing from out of nowhere with nothing but the clothes on her back. If Dinah Theodore and Kate Wellington were one in the same person, it only proved one thing in his mind: she’d gotten tangled up in something beyond her control. It was as simple—and as complicated—as that. But he refused to believe anything else, because her heart was just too big, her soul too pure, to have committed robbery—or worse. He couldn’t afford to be wrong, for in bringing her here, he’d bet his life—and the lives of everyone at the Lazy N—on that.
Dinah licked her lips, reminding him yet again of that glorious, mesmerizing, life-changing kiss. He had meant it to convey all he’d come to feel for her, and what he’d talked himself into believing about her, since he didn’t have the faculty to put it into words. But when he’d wrapped his arms around her and felt her heart beating fiercely against his ribs, when he’d tasted the sweetness and goodness that he’d known were in her, passion had pretty much drowned out his intended message. That’s why he’d apologized, because the good Lord knew he wasn’t sorry for kissing her!
And, lovesick fool that he was, Josh couldn’t find the words to admit that, either.
He watched Dinah as she stared off toward the horizon, wearing that same expression he’d seen so many times before. “What’s out there that frightens you so?”
She turned to him so quickly that another curl popped free from her yellow ribbon. “What? Oh, nothing.” Giggling nervously, she tucked the curl behind her ear. “Afraid? What a silly thing to say!” Straightening her back, she added, “I’m worried about Esther, same as everyone who cares about her. But afraid?” Another giggle. “What could I possibly be afraid of?”
“Me.”
It was a simple, one-syllable word. If he’d known it would put tears in her eyes and make her tremble from head to toe, he never would have uttered it. Three long strides put him in front of her, and, gathering her close, Josh whispered into her hair. “Dinah, oh, Dinah, Dinah, Dinah. It just breaks my heart to know you’re afraid of me.” He held her at arm’s length, searching her face. “Why? What have I done to make you—”
“I’m not afraid of you; it’s—it’s—”
She looked toward the horizon again, and, with every blink, a fresh, silvery tear trickled down her cheek. Josh caught one with the pad of his thumb. “If not me, then what?” Or, more accurately, whom?
One sigh, deep and shuddering, escaped her lungs as she wiped her eyes with her knuckles. “Myself, mostly.”
Despair emanated from her pretty face, along with hopelessness and regret and a muddle of other things Josh couldn’t put a name to. He hated seeing her so unhappy and prayed that the good Lord would put the right words into his mouth, give him the wisdom to articulate them in a way that would ease her misery. “I can name a thousand things in this old world you might be afraid of, but a little slip of a thing like you?” He forced a chuckle. “Hardly something to fear!”
Her chin was practically touching her chest when she said, “You’re only trying to help, and I appreciate that. More than you know. But—you don’t know me.”
“I want to,” he insisted. “I want to know everything about you.”
She put her back to him and hugged herself again. “Please, no, Josh. I—I couldn’t bear that.”
Now didn’t seem like the right time to admit that he already knew who she was and what she’d been accused of doing—and that it didn’t matter a whit to him, because he didn’t believe a word of it. All in good time, he told himself. All in good time.
Josh would settle for the next best thing. At least, for now. Embracing her from behind, he rested his chin on her head and hoped with all his might that everything he’d come to feel for her would seep from his being into hers.
That would simply have to do—for now.
29
There,” Kate said, fluffing Esther’s pillow. “Is that any better?”
The woman’s eyes drooped sleepily, but she managed a crooked smile.
“And how would you like a little more tea before I turn down your lamp for the night?”
Esther held up one hand. “No. Y
ou…did…enough.” Her smile widened a tad. “You rest…too?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’m going to rest now, too.” Though “rest” was hardly the word. Since the night of the apoplectic attack, Kate had been sleeping in Esther’s room on a cot Josh had brought in from the bunkhouse. Every sound that broke the silence had her wide awake, and she’d spent far more time checking on her patient than she had sleeping. Eva Neville, Susan, Sarah, and even Lucinda had offered to take her place, but Esther’s imploring expression was all it took to keep her here almost round the clock.
And she wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Bending down, she folded the hem of a hand-embroidered sheet over the colorful quilt on Esther’s bed. “Are you warm enough? I can fetch the quilt from my cot and—”
The older woman shook her head and grabbed Kate’s hand. “No, but…you can fetch Josh….”
“Certainly,” she said, pressing a kiss to Esther’s forehead. “I believe I heard him in the parlor, talking with Daniel and Micah and Paul.” She headed for the door, then turned around with a smile. “Say, would you like me to have all of them come up?”
“Just Josh…th-this time.”
As Kate was about to close the door behind her, Esther added, “Y-you…will you come…back…w-with him?”
“Of course,” she assured her.
In the hall, Kate pressed her forehead against the closed bedroom door. If only she were smarter, wiser, more thoughtful, maybe she could anticipate some of the woman’s needs and spare her the ordeal of trying to verbalize everything.
“I didn’t realize Miss Taylor was here—”
“Josh!” Kate said, a little louder than intended. “You startled me—again!”
He grinned. “Sorry.”
“Every time you sneak up on me that way, I’m more and more convinced I ought to put a bell around your neck.”
Extending his arms in halfhearted supplication, he shrugged.
“Who’s Miss Taylor?”
“Schoolmarm. The way you were standing there just now reminded me of the countless hours she made me stand against the wall when I was a boy.”
“Goodness! She must have been a heartless old hag, because I can’t imagine Joshua Neville doing anything to deserve such punishment.”
“As much as I appreciate your confidence, I have to admit that Miss Taylor was a sweet-tempered young thing. I earned every minute I spent standing with my nose to the wall in that schoolhouse. Fact is, I earned about ten times more than I got.”
“Oh, the questions that confession arouses!” Kate exclaimed with a smile. “But I’ll have to save them for later.” With one hand on the doorknob, she said, “I was just on my way downstairs.”
“Why?”
“Because your grandmother sent me to find you.”
His grin vanished, and in its place came a troubled expression. “What’s wrong? She’s not worse, is she? Because—”
“Shhh,” Kate said, pressing a finger to her lips. “She’s awake, and you know better than I do that she can hear through walls and floors and doors! Relax—she’s no better, but she’s no worse, either.”
“Then why does she want to talk to me? Why not Pa or Ma, or one of the girls, or—”
“C-come…” Esther called through the door, “and…I’ll t-tell you!”
Josh’s gaze slid from the closed door to Kate’s face. “Told you she could hear you,” she whispered before pushing the door open. “Look what I found in the hall,” she announced as she entered the room, trailed by Josh.
“Y-young w-whelp,” Esther said, a slanted grin brightening half of her face. Her right hand gave the mattress three clumsy thumps. “S-sit, b-boy.”
As Josh balanced on the edge of the bed, Kate moved toward the door to give them some time alone, but Esther’s growling “Stay!” stopped her. She perched on the bed across from Josh and fussed with the bow at the collar of her dress.
“So, tell me, Mee-Maw, how are you today?” Josh asked.
Esther frowned. “O-o-old,” she mumbled. “Weak…as a newborn kitten.”
She signaled them both to come closer, so they leaned in. “T-tell…tell her.”
With a baffled expression, Josh sat up straighter. “Tell her…?”
Esther pointed at Kate. “Don’t…be stubborn!” With eyes narrowed, she tried to sit up. “You…know what. So, t-tell her!”
“Now, now,” Kate said, a gentle hand guiding the woman to her pillows again, “please lie back and relax, Esther. You know what Dr. Lane said about getting riled—”
“What?” Josh interrupted her. “What did Lane say? And why was she riled up in the first place?”
Kate closed her eyes and hung her head. If she hadn’t been such a clumsy little idiot, she wouldn’t have twisted her ankle. And if she hadn’t twisted her ankle, she wouldn’t have been forced to follow him here to heal. She’d be in Mexico now instead of trying to figure out how to keep grandmother and grandson calm in the midst of a family tragedy. “The other evening,” she began, straightening covers that didn’t need straightening, “when the doctor tried to explain about apoplexy, well, let’s just say Esther’s reaction was…noisy.” She shared a grin with her patient. “And that’s when Dr. Lane emphasized how important it is to stay calm. Isn’t that right, Esther?”
Esther loosed a harrumph and shook her head.
“What? What did he tell her?”
Josh had been right there at the foot of her bed, same as the rest of the Nevilles, when the doctor had delivered his prognosis. He’d heard the list of symptoms and what they meant, hadn’t he? Well, that didn’t matter now. She could fill him in on the details later. Right now, Kate needed to find a way to humor him, and carefully. Because, if Josh got upset, Esther would get upset, and he’d never forgive himself if his overwrought behavior played even a small part in the possible outcome.
Kate aimed a warning finger at Esther, then said, “He simply made it clear that the less stress she experiences, the sooner we could see some improvement.” Kate gave Esther’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Isn’t that right, Mrs. I-Don’t-Like-Lying-Around?”
The woman’s chuckle sounded more like a snarl, but it was music to Kate’s ears.
“I am…calm.” To Josh, she said, “N-now…tell her.”
Pressing the fingers of his grandmother’s other hand between his own, Josh spoke in a voice that was scarcely above a whisper. “Mee-Maw, I honestly don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. Can you give me a hint what you want me to tell her—without getting yourself worked up about it?”
“W-worked up,” Esther scoffed, grinning again. She looked at Kate. “M-my big…strong…cowboy….” She gave another chuckle, then puffed out a sigh, and her grin evaporated. Closing her eyes, she slowly rolled her head left, right, then left again. “Life…too short.” Fixing her blue-eyed gaze on Josh, she puckered her brow. “Stop…wasting…time. Tell her!”
Kate tried to read Josh’s face but found it impossible in the semidarkness of Esther’s room. Had he talked with her about personal, private things, like matters of the heart, and his feelings for her?
Dare she hope?
Then, at the thought, she covered her face with her hands. Every day that passed put Frank a day closer to destroying them. And she knew that as surely as she knew her name was not Dinah Theodore.
And yet she stayed.
Earlier that day, Josh had asked her what she was afraid of, and she’d answered truthfully. Kate was afraid of herself—and the devastation that seemed destined to shadow her.
This madness needed to stop.
Her selfishness had to end.
The sooner, the better.
Kate got to her feet and folded both arms over her chest. “I’m going down to the kitchen to fix myself a cup of tea. Would you like one, Esther?”
When the woman started to protest, Kate stopped her. “You’ve been up and about far too much today, and I, for one, don’t want to answer to Dr. Lane if you
have a relapse.” She pointed at the door and gestured for Josh to follow her. “So, shall I bring you some tea?”
Glowering, Esther blurted out, “No!” With a wave of one hand, she dismissed them both. “F-fine, then. Go,” she said, and promptly closed her eyes.
Kate pulled the door shut behind them and hurried toward the staircase, Josh close on her heels.
“Would you mind making me a cup of tea while you’re at it?” she heard him say.
She started down the steps. “You don’t even like tea.”
“Is that so?”
“I’ve never seen you drink it. Never heard you ask for a cup, as a matter of fact.” Their dialogue was ridiculous, almost laughable, but it was better than the alternative!
“Did you ever stop to think maybe that’s the problem?” he said when they reached the landing.
“What’s the problem?”
“You don’t see me drinking the stuff because nobody has ever bothered to fix me a—”
“Do you really expect me to believe that a man who can move thousands of cows from Texas to Kansas can’t brew himself a cup of tea? Please.” With that, she dashed down the remaining stairs and half ran down the hall.
In the kitchen, she stood at the cupboard and reached up for two cups hanging from hooks beneath a high shelf.
Josh had stopped in the doorway, standing with one booted foot crossed over the other. “Never said I couldn’t. I only pointed out that it’s never offered to me.”
“And why would anyone offer you tea, since you’re of the opinion that the beverage is strictly for old women and sick people?” She cut him a quick glance and, seeing that her remark had made its intended result, resisted the impulse to grin. Oh, how she loved that slanting smile and those twinkling, blue eyes!
Kate busied herself preparing the tea, thinking that what she really needed at that moment was a good, solid reason not to like Josh. But, try as she might, she couldn’t think of one negative aspect of his character or his personality. She would compile a list of reasons to dislike Josh Neville later, when sleep eluded her, as she knew it would. But something told her it would be a very short list, indeed.