He touched the tip of her nose with a frozen finger, and she smiled. His attention was the first sign she had that things were going to be all right.
“That was considerate. I’d like that very much.”
“I’ll run up and fetch your sleep shirt and some clean socks, and meet you there.”
Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have spoken so intimately in front of the McCutcheons, but she had no choice today. She knew once he got upstairs and rolled into bed, there would be no getting him out.
Roady nodded and ambled into the downstairs hall.
Halfway up the stairs, she stopped and turned. “Sorry, Hickory. We can finish our game tomorrow, if you’d like.”
On the upper landing, she rounded the corner and went into their room, gathered the things Roady needed, and returned to the bathing room. She gave a tentative knock and waited. In their own cabin, she often helped him scrub his back in their small wooden tub, but tonight she was feeling shy.
“Come in.”
She pushed open the door and set his things on the small pine table where a candle burned. The woodstove in the corner had the room nice and warm. A kettle sat on top for when they wanted a quick reheating of the water.
Roady was stretched out in the coffin-sized tub, the water halfway up his body, his eyes closed. “This water feels mighty good,” he mumbled, opening his eyes. A ghost of a smile pulled at his lips.
At that moment she knew—whatever transpired about the baby, and its father, they would get through it and be fine. Roady wouldn’t throw away what they had because of bruised feelings and pride. He’d told her often that he didn’t care that he hadn’t actually fathered their child; he’d love it as his own. It took a big man to declare that.
Had she really been afraid he’d go back on his words? Gazing into his eyes now, she couldn’t believe it.
“I’m so glad. I took a hot bath earlier. It’s the only way to get some warmth down to your bones.”
His eyes glittered. “Want to join me? You can always take another. If I move over here,” he splashed to the side, “there’s plenty of room.”
Sally knew he was kidding, but appreciated his willingness to reach out and put her feelings first. This was his way of making up for how he’d left things this morning, leaving her to worry and brood over his actions. But she didn’t care about that now. She was just glad to have him back.
“No, I don’t, thank you very much. You must be remembering me before I looked like a pony. There isn’t room for us in there now, and you know it.”
“What?” A deep longing crossed his face. “That’s the most far-fetched statement I’ve ever heard. You’re more beautiful today than when we married.”
She picked up a folded cloth from the table, dunked it in the water, and began soaping it as heat from his compliment suffused her face. “I don’t feel beautiful. But I promise, if the tub were larger, you couldn’t keep me out.”
His eyebrows waggled. “I’ll keep that in mind when I add on to our place next year. Our bathing room will have enough space for a bathtub to fit two. You can bet on that.”
She giggled. “Just think how much water we’d have to warm to fill it.”
Sally pulled the short stool around to the back of the tub. He leaned forward and let her lather his wide shoulders. For several moments, she worked in the quiet.
“Are you ready for more hot water? I can get the kettle off the stove.”
“Mmm, no thanks, darlin’. Just keep doing what you’re doing on my back, and I’ll never complain. That feels good.”
“After today, I’m relieved to hear I’m still your darling,” she replied, dipping the cloth in the tub and picking up where she left off. The tangy scent of the soap tickled her nose. “When you left this morning, you were upset. I’m so sorry about the letter.”
Roady glanced around, his face shiny from the heat of the room and the bath. “You’ll always be my darlin’. I’m sorry about leaving the way I did. I shouldn’t have. Things that happened weren’t your fault. I was a horse’s butt, acting the way I did.”
Sally caressed his shoulder.
He took the cloth and washed his face, arms, and legs. “Look out now. I’m gonna rinse.”
She moved back, resting her hands on the edge of the tub.
He dipped under the water and came up with a chuckle. “You’ve gone and tamed me good.”
He looked to the clean, folded towel on the table, and Sally promptly handed it to him. He stood and dried until his skin was a rosy pink.
“Like what you see?”
Roady was never this bold. She didn’t quite know how to answer. She’d been admiring his beauty, but now dropped her gaze to the lantern. For the few months they’d been married, he’d encouraged her to speak her mind.
“You know I do,” she whispered, feeling a smile tug at her lips.
“Then why are you being so shy? I feel like we’ve gone back to the start.”
He stepped out of the tub, wrapped the towel around his waist, tucked in the end to keep it in place, and then gently lifted her chin with one finger until she looked into his eyes.
She swallowed nervously. “We haven’t.”
He lowered his face to hers, kissing her sweetly. The moment lingered. A small sound as if he were eating a piece of cake made her smile. He always had a way of lightening a moment.
Reaching for his nightshirt, he slipped the garment over his head before he removed the towel and pulled on his robe, the garmet he only wore to get from the bathing room to the bedroom. Sitting on the stool, he undid the thick pair of socks rolled together in a knot and drew them on one by one.
“But we do need to talk, Roady,” she said. “As much as the letter makes me sick, and I wonder why in the world that man would contact me after what he did, I can’t stop thinking of something else. And I’m not sure what to do.”
He straightened, all playfulness gone from his face. “Your sisters?”
Shocked, Sally felt her eyes open wide. She and Roady were so much alike sometimes, the realization astounded her. She nodded. The room was still quite warm from the woodstove. She felt moisture on her forehead and behind her neck.
“I’m worried he’ll use me to get to Anita and Melba.” When an unstoppable shiver rippled through her, Roady reached out and smoothed his large hand down her arm. “He might go visit. Gain their trust. Tell them how smart they are and perhaps possibly offer to help them in some way.” She swallowed back her revulsion, remembering how Mr. Greenstein had slowly reeled her in, an unsuspecting innocent. “How can he do that, Roady? He’s married and has children of his own. As much as I detest what he did to me, I can’t help but feel sadness for them. Why would he do it? I don’t understand a man like that.”
Roady stood there, looking down at her, but she could tell his thoughts were miles away—in St. Louis, confronting her attacker. His flared nostrils and hardened expression made his face look like a slab of granite, unmovable and certain of what he wanted to do.
“That’s because he’s not a man, he’s an animal. You need to remember that. Any repercussions that fall upon his unsuspecting family are his doing, not yours.”
Roady gave her a direct stare, a hard look that she dared not argue with, or even comment upon. And she didn’t want to. To have such a champion on her side relieved her of the crippling weight she’d felt on her shoulders for the last few months. They needed to warn her family. That was one thing she was certain of.
Leaning forward, he briefly pressed his lips to hers. “As much as we wanted to keep what happened a total secret,” he said next to her lips, “I don’t think we can any longer. Actually, I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, but didn’t want to upset you.” He reached down and gently caressed the growing bump that had once been her flat tummy. “This is my son or daughter. But we’ve moved on. I trust you with my life, and I think you trust me the same way.”
She nodded, spellbound by the man who held he
r whole world in the palm of his hands.
Roady tucked a strand of wayward hair behind her ear. “Tell you the truth. Now that we know nothing can hurt us as long as we don’t let it, keeping the past a secret doesn’t feel as all-fired important as it did back when I first learned the truth. I do want to protect and shield you and the babe, but for me, I really don’t care who knows.”
Sally’s throat burned with emotion. She ran both her palms up the thick cotton fabric covering his solid chest. “Thank you. To hear such words from you is a salve to my heart.”
“Surely, you’ve known that’s how I feel, haven’t you?”
She nodded. “Yes. But hearing you say the words makes the feelings real. Do you have a plan?”
“I do. And just as soon as you’re upstairs under the covers getting warm next to me, I’ll share it.” He turned, opened the stove, stirred the fire with the iron poker, and then shut the door tight. Outside, the wind whistled around the house, unrelenting.
Sally’s heart swelled. She followed Roady out the door, down the hall, and around the corner. Everyone else had retired to their rooms, and the flickering flames in the fireplace provided the only light.
Roady paused at the bottom of the staircase and reached for her hand. Everything would be all right. Somehow, they’d send warning of the dire situation before it was too late.
A quick glance to the window, and the storm beyond, almost made her foot falter. How would they send a message if they couldn’t get to Y Knott? Every moment counted. Until the letter arrived, she’d been certain that monster would never show his face to her family, but now she knew different. He already had. He’d begun laying the groundwork.
Something had to be done . . . and quickly.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Sorry, Sanger, you’re fit enough to come out of this room now and eat with the rest of us,” Shad bit out, holding tight his anger. Brandon was still waiting for a return telegram about him, and Shad hoped it arrived sooner rather than later.
The sullen man sat in the chair by the fire, his mouth twisted in an angry knot.
He enjoyed being lazy, there was no other explanation to why he’d want to stay holed up in a room with his wife and three children since they’d arrived. His only trip out was to the outhouse. The setup was extra work for Hildy and Lenore, and both the women were weak from the small rations. The parents would come out of this room or go hungry, if it were up to him—and it was.
“From here on out, you eat in the dining room with the rest of us, or you don’t eat.”
Mrs. Sanger and the three children huddled under the blankets as they listened to the one-sided conversation. The plates on the tray Hildy had delivered half an hour before were licked clean.
“And your young’uns could use some cleaning up,” he added angrily.
When he saw July’s expression fall, he wanted to kick himself. It wasn’t the boy’s fault. The girls were too young to understand what he’d just said. Even as a boy himself, and in charge of his two younger brothers, Shad did a better job tending to them than this couple did looking after their own children.
“How do we do that?” Mrs. Sanger asked, her eyes downcast with embarrassment.
“You bring Cook the snow and he’ll warm it up, enough for a bath if you want. But he’s not going to fetch it and do everything. We could also use another man’s help keeping up with the firewood needed in each room.”
Mr. Sanger had yet to respond.
“You hear me? I’m not joking about this.”
“I hear ya,” the man snarled out, causing the little girls to cuddle together, their eyes large.
“Let me take the children. I’m happy to give them a bath and save you the trouble,” a female said from behind him.
Recognizing Miss Ford’s voice, Shad turned. She looked fetching in spite of what they’d been through the last few days. Little food, little heat, and less-than-perfect living conditions. The girl had spunk.
July’s eyes went wide. “I ain’t taking no bath with April and May.”
Shad noted the worried glance Mrs. Sanger shot to her husband. What were they hiding? “I think that’s a good idea, Miss Ford.”
Encouraged, she stepped in next to him. “July, you won’t have to bathe with your sisters. You can go first, by yourself. Does that sound good?”
“That ain’t possible,” the bulky man responded. His stubble-covered jaw jutted out in challenge as he climbed to his feet, the first time Shad had seen him standing.
“That’s too bad. We’re all stuck here together. Shouldn’t your wife be making the decisions about the young’uns? Miss Ford is being helpful.”
Mr. Sanger’s glance darted back and forth. If the man had a gun, Shad felt sure he’d try to use it. His whole family was afraid of him.
“Fine,” he finally said. He stomped forward and narrowed his eyes at July, causing the little tyke to shake like a leaf.
Anyone could see this father ruled with an iron fist, something Shad couldn’t tolerate. The man better not try beating his children or wife while he was staying here, or he’d get a taste of his own medicine.
“Behave yourself, July,” Mr. Sanger said, and then smiled. “You remember your manners, or there will be hell to pay. You got that?”
The boy nodded. “Yes, sir. I do . . . and I will.”
Miss Ford smiled at Shad. “Thank you, Mr. Petty. I’ll go gather the snow and put the pots on the stove. I’ll have a tub ready in no time.”
“Have Harold help you,” Shad said, still feeling the effects of Miss Ford’s pretty smile. “He’ll be happy to.” He chuckled, never seeing someone so happy about bathing children. To each his own, he thought as she hurried away.
Scanning the room, Shad decided he’d stick around until she returned for July and his sisters. Mr. Sanger’s expression smoldered with anger, although the man was too much of a coward to say any more.
Shad didn’t want the woman or children to be the recipient of any anger directed at him. Going to the side of the room, he eyed the pile of belongings they’d never taken the time to put away. He looked at Mrs. Sanger, still lying in the bed.
“Any clean clothes in there for the children?”
“Sure,” July said.
“Hun-gy,” one of the twins said as her eyes filled with tears, whether April or May, Shad wasn’t sure as he couldn’t tell them apart. The other’s bottom lip wobbled.
July was the most responsible of them all. He bounded off the bed and hurried over to sort through some belongings. “I’ll find some clean duds. For them. And for me.”
Before long, July had two small shirts, two pairs of tiny pants, two sets of holey long johns, and four socks that looked better suited to be rags. All the garments appeared to be hand-me-downs from the boy’s own clothes.
“Those are for the girls?” Shad asked. “They look like your clothes.”
“They was, but I grew out of ’em. They’re still good, though. See?” He tugged one pair of pants at each leg, but the garment didn’t rip.
“I believe you,” Shad said, embarrassed.
July snagged a pair of blue overalls and a shirt out of the mangled pile. “Here’s for me.” He smiled up at Shad, eager to please.
These children were as different from their parents as lambs were from a wolf pack. Something was amiss, and Shad aimed to figure out what.
He ruffled July’s hair. “Good job.”
Miss Ford was back in the doorway. “Everything’s ready, July. Come along with me. I’ll show you the way. As soon as the first bath is finished, I’ll be back for your sisters.”
The boy stuffed his clean garments under his arm and then looked at the bed where April and May watched. “I’ll take ’em along now, so they don’t rile Pa. He’s tired.” He held out his arms to his sisters, a loving smile on his lips.
“Fitting will be a tight squeeze. The bath room isn’t all that large,” Miss Ford said, slanting a conspiratorial look at Shad. “But I gue
ss we can make it work. Everyone will be as clean as a whistle when we get through.”
Mr. Sanger looked like he wanted to object, but rightly held his tongue. Mrs. Sanger just watched complacently.
“Hun-gy,” one cherub whimpered softly.
They’d already had the noon meal, and it would be hours before their bedtime snack. Perhaps a few exceptions could be made for the little ones once they were out of this room. Their father always complained he wasn’t getting enough to eat.
Shad couldn’t stop his gaze from cutting to Miss Ford. Her expression said she was thinking the same thing. He sent her a surreptitious wink, and she gave him a slight nod.
“No more food until bedtime,” he stated bluntly for the parents’ benefit, but followed the four toward the kitchen. The bath room sat opposite.
Miss Ford stopped in the hall and turned, one little girl in her arms and the other holding July’s hand.
“I’ll see you in a few,” Shad said, tipping his head toward the kitchen.
“I hope so, Mr. Petty,” she answered in a self-satisfied tone. “Thank you for taking the appropriate action. I believe we have much more to learn.”
“Let’s just tackle one problem at a time.”
She glanced at the grubby little face so close to hers and placed a gentle kiss on the child’s chapped cheek. “I think that’s good advice.”
Shad lingered several seconds, admiring the view before slipping into the kitchen. Cook wouldn’t begrudge a few bowls of oatmeal for the little tykes.
Were he and Miss Ford on to something important about the children? He thought yes, but only time would tell.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“What happened?” Luke shouted as he ran out the door and made for the bunkhouse.
The men had shoveled a path from the ranch hands’ living quarters to the barn, corrals, and house. His boot hit an icy spot. He slid but caught himself before he fell and kept going. An unfamiliar sleigh careening into the yard and up to the bunkhouse porch had caught his attention from his father’s office window, but not until he recognized Pedro and John lifting a body wrapped in blankets out of the conveyance was he spurred to action.
Montana Courage (McCutcheon Family Series Book 9) Page 16