by Linda Ford
Twisting the hem of her dress, Clara said, “May I go play dolls now?”
Blinking at the sudden change in subject, Jane nodded. “Of course.”
While she hated to dampen the child’s hopes, she had proof that reality didn’t always line up with dreams.
Chapter Ten
Bottling up her true feelings was wearing on Jane.
She was now forced to spend not only her weekdays projecting a nonchalant attitude, but her weekends, as well. Her entire family considered Tom an honorary O’Malley, and after his long absence clearly felt compelled to include him in their activities.
She craved a respite.
When she’d overheard her aunt inviting him to Sunday lunch, she’d thought he’d spend the bulk of the afternoon with her cousins. Jessica had ruined that with her inspired idea for the four of them—her and Lee, Tom and Jane—to have their lunch outside, apart from the clamor and commotion inside the crowded cabin.
She couldn’t even count on Clara to provide a distraction. The little girl had bonded with Amy and hadn’t wanted to leave her side.
“Are you going to the Thompsons’ barn dance, Tom?” Jessica asked.
Seated on a multicolored quilt spread out beneath the hickory tree’s leafy bower, Jane sipped her tea, deliberately smoothing the curiosity from her face. She mustn’t care. Or let on that she did, anyway. The pretense was exhausting.
Passing a napkin across his mouth, Tom laid it atop his empty plate and leaned back against the gnarled trunk. “It would give Clara a chance to get to know other families in the area.”
“And you to get reacquainted with old friends.” Jessica popped the last bite of chicken into her mouth.
Lee’s grin turned wolfish. “You’re both forgetting the most important parts. Dancing with beautiful ladies and moonlit strolls out of the view of chaperones.” Above his piercing blue eyes, thick eyebrows wriggled suggestively.
Jessica playfully swatted his knee. “Just how many ladies are you planning on dancing with?”
“A slip of the tongue, my dear. I only want to dance with one woman.”
Resting her weight on her palms, Jane angled her head to stare up at the tree branches crisscrossing above them. A light breeze danced across her heated skin, a brief reprieve from the humidity. She tracked a squirrel’s progress, tuning out the man’s coarse laughter.
Lee Cavanaugh was a difficult man to like. For her twin’s sake, she’d tried to overcome her reservations. Outwardly, he was an attractive, strapping man who took pride in his appearance. He wore his black hair cropped short. His clothes were clean and pressed, shoes polished to a high shine. But his brash, overbearing demeanor grated on her nerves.
Some of his comments left her wondering if he truly followed the Bible’s teachings or simply attended church for show. Like Roy, he hadn’t grown up in Gatlinburg. Born and raised in Virginia, he’d moved to the area shortly after Tom moved away. Jessica had no choice but to trust whatever he told her was true.
Look where that got me.
Desperate for peace and quiet, she looped her satchel strap over her shoulder and stood. “I’m going for a short walk.”
Tom sat up. “I can accompany you, if you’d like.”
Jessica’s eyes went dark with determination. “I recognize the look on her face. She’s had her fill of company for the moment.” Softening her words with a dazzling smile, she added, “I’d like to hear more about Kansas. What did you like most about ranch life?”
Not sticking around for his response, Jane strode into the woods she’d played and lived in her entire life. Searching for the rusty tub mill half-buried in the earth, she turned right when she found it, taking a diagonal course to the stream bordering her aunt and uncle’s property. There was a tree there with a smooth trunk and a bed of moss surrounding the base, a perfect spot for writing in her journal.
Ten minutes later, she was settled near the trickling stream. Her pen flew across the page, dammed-up emotions pouring out in a torrent. At the core of it all was the question why. Why couldn’t Roy have been the answer to her problem? If Laura hadn’t been in the picture, she would be his wife right now. A life with Tom would’ve been out of the question. Impossible. And every tendril of hope would’ve withered and crumbled into dust.
She would’ve had no choice but to acknowledge the futility of her dreams.
But she wasn’t anyone’s wife. She was a free, unattached woman. Tom was a free, unattached man. And there was the tiniest portion of her heart—the naive, optimistic, stubborn part—that refused to give up.
Jane wasn’t aware of how much time had passed when the crunch of twigs beneath boots registered seconds before a shadow fell over her.
“Here you are.”
Her gaze traveled up Tom’s long, sturdy legs planted far apart, the dressy green vest paired with a charcoal-gray shirt, landing on his handsome, expectant face. He gestured to the open journal, bright eyes knowing. “Still chronicling your thoughts, I see.”
Alarm punched her in the middle. Contained on these pages were her most private thoughts, many about him. Only now realizing the danger of such an exercise—what if her journal were misplaced, lost, read by someone with a penchant for gossip?—Jane snapped it closed and shoved it in her satchel.
“I gave you an hour before I came looking. Are you up for company now?”
“Sure.”
Half turning, hands gripping his hips, he assessed the dead tree trunk forming a natural bridge across a deeper portion of the stream. She didn’t have to ask what he was thinking. He’d challenged her to cross it many times without success.
“Don’t bother asking.” Standing, she brushed off the back of her dress, a tight grip on her satchel. “We should start for the cabin. Is Clara sleeping?”
“Too much excitement. I think she and Amy are still in the barn admiring the latest litter of kittens.” Twisting again to study the opposite bank, his vivid gaze swung around to probe hers. “When was the last time you visited the cave?”
She hadn’t thought about the cave in a long time. Tucked into the base of a steep hill about a thirty-minute walk from here, it was an interesting area to explore. “With you and Megan. Maybe a month before Lucian came to town.”
Eager to spend time in his company, Jane had often tagged along on their excursions. He hadn’t seemed to mind and neither had Megan.
“I remember that day.” His lips curved ruefully. “You twisted your ankle on the trek home, and I had to carry you for miles.”
“Don’t remind me.”
Did he have to bring up that awkward, embarrassing memory? He’d been forced to transport her like a monkey on his back, arms looped around her knees to balance her weight, with her clutching him around his neck while trying not to choke him. Next to her older, mature sister, Jane had felt unsophisticated and clumsy. That incident only served to underscore her inadequacy.
Tom, of course, had taken it all in stride. Careful not to jostle her injured foot, he’d kept up a steady stream of conversation to keep her mind off it. Her admiration for him had only deepened in the face of his heroic behavior.
“I’d like to see it again.” He was looking at her with anticipation.
“What? Now?”
“Why not? Clara’s in good hands, and the skies are clear.”
Longing flared. She’d like to see it, as well, and who else better to accompany her?
You’re spending too much time with him as it is. Tell him no.
As if sensing her impending refusal, he said, “Look, I’m a little desperate for some adult time. I haven’t had that in what feels like forever.” Tiny lines radiated out from his eyes. “Does that make me a terrible person?”
Compassion swept away any arguments.
“Not at all. Tom, you’re a bachelor who’s been thrust into parenthood. It’s completely normal for you to want a break.”
The slightly guilty air shimmering around him evaporated. “You’ll come with me, t
hen?”
She would regret this later. “How can I say no?”
*
Because Jane wouldn’t cross the log and wasn’t keen on getting wet by splashing through the thigh-high water, they had to walk about a quarter of a mile to find a spot where the water level was shallow enough for her to leap across. They walked in companionable silence as they traversed the spacious field with knee-high grasses, soaking in God’s glorious nature. It was a lovely June day—low humidity and pleasant temperatures. Big, puffy white clouds hung in the cerulean sky above. Deep green mountains almost completely circled the valley.
At one point, Tom put an arm out to stop her, a finger to his lips as he directed her attention to a group of white-tailed deer grazing nearby. They shared a smile. Though they’d grown up in these east Tennessee mountains, and such sights were fairly common, they didn’t take the wildlife or their impressive habitats for granted.
After a while, they reached the opposite tree line and entered the denser forest as the terrain became hilly.
“Tom?”
“Hmm?”
He was scanning the forest, alert to potential hazards. His gun belt hung low on his hips, the nickel handle of his Colt Lightning revolver peeking out of its holster. This far from town, they couldn’t afford to be complacent. Danger could come in the form of black bears, wolves or even strangers passing through this part of the state.
“Why didn’t Clara go and live with any of Jenny’s relatives?”
“She didn’t have siblings.” Sidestepping a varmint hole, he said, “Her parents live in the same town and would’ve loved to have Clara if they were physically able to care for her. John, Jenny’s father, is in particularly poor health.”
“Does she talk about her grandparents a lot? Miss them?”
“Sometimes. Even though they lived close, there weren’t as many opportunities to visit as Jenny would’ve liked. The ranch kept all of us busy from dawn to dusk.”
A robin swooped out of a tree, startling Jane, who was watching the ground for obstacles. She had to avoid a repeat of their last trip out here.
“How long has Charles been gone?”
“A little more than six months.”
“I can’t imagine how you were able to cope.”
He slowed. “I wasn’t given a choice.”
Jane moved ahead of him. “You’re wonderful with her. She’s adjusting well, considering all the changes in her life recently. And it’s plain as day she adores you.”
“You’ve played a big role in that adjustment.” His voice trailed off.
Suddenly, she felt herself grabbed from behind and yanked against his hard length. “Don’t move.” His lips grazed her earlobe, sending massive tremors through her body. Her knees didn’t want to support her.
“What—”
“Rattlesnake,” he murmured. “See him?”
Jane searched the underbrush, stomach flip-flopping. In the spot where she’d been about to place her boot slithered a healthy-size adult timber rattlesnake. The danger this poisonous creature posed couldn’t be underestimated—loss of limb, incredible pain and even death.
They stayed locked like that for long moments until it was gone.
Spinning in his hold, Jane gave him a fierce hug.
“What’s this?” he said against her hair, lips snagging the strands.
She didn’t want to move from this spot. This…this was what she’d longed to do since his homecoming. Hug him. Hold him. Relish in the safety of his embrace.
Reluctantly pulling back to look into his dancing, inquisitive gaze, she said simply, “You saved my life.”
He cocked his head to one side. “I did, didn’t I? Does that mean I’ve earned a ribbon fruitcake at last?”
Jane became aware of his fingers curved about her ribs. Taking a backward step, she dislodged his hold and instantly regretted it. “Maybe.”
One brow inched up. “Maybe?”
“Probably.”
Whistling low, he shook his head in mock disbelief. “You’re a hard woman to impress, Jane O’Malley.”
If he only knew… He didn’t have to exert himself to impress her.
Chapter Eleven
He couldn’t get that spontaneous hug out of his head.
As they hiked the remainder of the way, his attention repeatedly strayed to her, soaking in her vibrant beauty as if he could internalize it.
Jane had come close to getting seriously hurt. His pulse sped up, residual fear entering his bloodstream. That fear had nothing to do with the fact Josh, Nathan and Caleb would’ve strung him up if he’d allowed her to be harmed. Bottom line was, he couldn’t handle the thought of her in pain. He’d tried to mask it from her, adopting a lighthearted air, while inside he’d been as shaken as she. And when she’d launched herself at him, he’d wanted to anchor her to him and never let go.
She was quickly insinuating herself deep into his heart, staking claim to more of it than mere friendship warranted. It wasn’t wise, he knew, but he was at a loss as to how to prevent it.
Tom looked her direction again, noting her dawning recognition. Up ahead, tucked in the base of the mountain, was the cave the O’Malley brothers had discovered as adolescents. They’d brought Tom in on the secret with the intention of keeping it from the girls. Months passed before the eldest sister, Juliana, overheard them talking and followed them. Unhappy at first, the brothers had eventually given up trying to keep them away.
“Looks the same, doesn’t it?” he said as they neared the mouth.
“Except for that.” Nose scrunched, she pointed to the intricate web strung across the top left corner and the huge black-and-yellow spider in the center.
Tom let out a laugh. Jane did not appreciate insects’ roles in the world. “Aw, he looks mighty comfortable.”
Stopping dead in her tracks, her obstinate streak made itself known. “I’m not going in there.”
Locating a long stick, he approached the hapless spider. “Will it make you feel better if I transfer him to a new home?”
“There are probably plenty more inside.”
“Stick close to me, darlin’. I’ll protect you.”
It took a bit of coaxing to convince the little guy to go where Tom wanted. He came and took Jane’s elbow. “Ready?”
“I suppose.” Her boots dragged the ground. “I don’t recall it being quite so dark in there.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“You’re confusing me with Megan.”
He stared hard at her, unable to assess her mood. “Not possible, Janie girl. I distinctly remember you falling in with a number of my schemes.”
“I was young and naive.”
“And now that you’re older, you’re not interested in having fun?” He wanted to shatter that cool reserve.
A breeze stirred the skirts of her dove-gray dress. Peeling away a rogue tendril that had caught on her mouth, she dipped her head. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Side by side, they entered the dark space, dank, musty air shrouding them. Their eyes eventually adjusted. Enough light spilled in so that they could make out the wobbly table Josh and Nathan had crafted and a single dusty kerosene lamp. Memories rushed in, too many to riffle through them all. He’d passed many a summer afternoon here, playing pretend while his older brother tended to chores with their pa.
Here the cave’s ceiling sloped down to about an inch from his head. In the rear, the opening narrowed to a tunnel too tight for a human to crawl through. Caleb had lamented not being able to explore deeper. He’d been convinced there was a cavern filled with treasure on the other side of the rock wall.
“Any sign of Mr. Batling?”
Smiling at the fictitious name the girls had dreamed up, he scanned the ceiling. “No little brown bats that I can see. He must’ve moved on to a bigger, better cave.”
Funny how Jane couldn’t abide spiders but didn’t mind bats.
“One of my journals!” Jane snatched a
small book from the floor. “I looked everywhere for this.” Rubbing the grit from the cover, she opened it, wincing at the damp pages. Her eyes shone with the light of discovery. “I must’ve forgotten it the day I twisted my ankle.”
“Our last day here. Makes sense.”
Her fingers drifted almost reverently over the words. Shifting away, he attempted to shake the remembrance of her holding his head in her lap, stroking his hair with incredible tenderness until he fell asleep. If he were honest, he’d dearly like to repeat those moments. Not the headache, of course. Jane’s ministrations had made him feel cared for, something he hadn’t felt in a very long time.
Needing a distraction, he turned back and plucked the book from her hands. “You know,” he drawled, “I’ve always wondered how you managed to fill so many of these things. What was so important you had to get it on paper?”
Her gasp echoed off the cave walls. “Give it back.” When she lurched forward, he held it out of reach.
“Come on, Janie girl.” Edging to the entrance, he fought laughter. “Let me read at least some of it.” Presenting her with his back, he held the open book into the light. “What’s in here? Poems? Stories? Secrets of national importance?”
“That’s private,” she gritted, clutching his arm with a surprisingly punishing grip. “Tom.”
Swiveling around, he walked backward out of the cave, searching her face. The frantic slant of her mouth gave him pause. Closing the journal, he held it out to her.
He’d thought to tease her, not unnerve her. What was in that journal, anyway?
Even after she had it in her possession, practically adhered to her chest, apprehension came off her in waves.
“See what I mean?” he demanded, the slightest bit irked. “I was playing around, and you react as if I’ve killed your favorite cat.”
Staring into the distance, her profile unreadable, she didn’t respond.
He exhaled through his mouth. “Is it the situation with Roy?”
“What? No.”
Snapping her head around, she looked surprised he’d mention her ex-fiancé, as if she’d already forgotten the man. Strange.