The Homesteader's Sweetheart

by Lacy Williams

  “Hello, old friend.” Jonas paused a moment to pat Bailey’s nose and forehead. Five years ago, the mule had traveled with Jonas, Oscar and Breanna from Denver, after they’d disembarked from the train that had carried them from Boston and bought a buckboard to bring them the rest of the way to Wyoming. The animal had heard many a confession from Jonas’s lips, including the truth about Breanna’s parentage.

  Jonas hadn’t had anyone else to tell about the scandal with the Broadhursts, Millie’s accusations, or his rage when they’d refused to care for Breanna. His determination that the innocent baby girl wouldn’t know the loneliness he’d known for what seemed his whole life…

  Jonas still didn’t know how anyone could’ve held the tiny baby—even looked at her!—and not fallen in love with her.

  After he’d joined Jonas and Breanna as they left Boston, Oscar had still been wary, unsure that Jonas really intended to treat him as a son. Jonas had spoken with the mule often about the mistrust… It was an emotion Jonas could understand, especially after the events that had caused him to leave Boston.

  And when they’d added Seb to their unusual family in Denver thanks to the help of a kindly judge, Bailey had heard all about the trials of taming a small boy who was too curious for his own good.

  Then when Jonas had fought through those first days and months of homesteading, the mule had gotten an earful about just how hard it was to make a home for them on the Wyoming prairie. At the time, Jonas had felt so inadequate for the task set before him. With a toddler, a teen boy and Breanna to care for…and not knowing much about living off the land, he’d been drowning in his own failures until Walt and Peg had got ahold of him. Not only had they taught him what he needed to know about farming, but they’d taught him about God’s grace and Jonas’s worth in God’s eyes. They’d changed Jonas’s life, and in turn, the children’s lives, too.

  Until today, Jonas had thought those old feelings of inadequacy were gone for good. What was it about Penny Castlerock that brought thoughts of not being good enough back?

  “I couldn’t face her tonight,” Jonas told the donkey, speaking of Penny. “I brushed her off this morning, afraid…” Of what she thought of my makeshift family.

  Although some of the people in nearby Bear Creek accepted his family, most were wary. He’d heard whispers of rag-tag, misfits, orphans, although no one had dared to say anything to his face, at the general store, outside church and other places.

  The same names he’d heard throughout his childhood, directed at Jonas himself. Words that had stung each time. Worthless. Trash. Words that infuriated him when directed at his children.

  They might not be his by blood, but the boys had chosen him, chosen each other. Chosen to be a family. That made them Jonas’s by right. And he protected his own. Even from the pretty, highborn neighbor, and her curiosity.

  She had completely discomfited him. He felt like he was eighteen again, catching glimpses of her through the windows in the fine house as he laid bricks…the feelings of insecurity when she and her friends had giggled behind their gloved hands, not knowing if they were laughing at him.

  He’d secretly daydreamed of speaking to her. Not courting her. Just talking to her.

  Not that he would have known what to say. He’d never conversed with a pretty young woman before. The girls that hawked papers and worked in the factories, ones he knew from the streets didn’t count. And he likely would have been too tongue-tied to say anything at all.

  She’d been the inspiration behind his most secret wish. One that he’d never shared with anyone before. A dream of having a true family of his own: a wife, children.

  He loved the boys and Breanna more than anything. They’d become a family. He was happy.

  But seeing Penny again, sitting next to her in the wagon all day yesterday had resurrected Jonas’s secret dreams. And her presence had brought back his insecurities, as well. He felt awkward and unsure.

  He didn’t have time to worry about his neighbor’s pretty granddaughter; he needed to focus on his family. With the days he’d taken to visit the banks, he’d lost time getting the cattle ready to drive down to Cheyenne. Haying was about to start, and he had yet to find a way to pay for Breanna’s treatment. Selling off some of the cattle would help, and he prayed for a good price since it wasn’t really the right time of year to be selling, but it wouldn’t account for the entire amount.

  “Need to forget about her, old boy,” he told the donkey with a final pat, exiting the barn. If only it was that easy to push Penny from his mind.

  “Pa!” Davy jogged toward him from the house. “Mr. Sumner’s here. Wants to talk to you.”

  Sumner was another neighbor, a bit farther out than Walt’s place. A handshake was enough of a greeting. It was late for a social call.

  “I won’t stay long,” the man said, sitting at the table across from Jonas. “My wife’s ma is in a bad way, down in Colorado. And my wife’s in…ahem…the family way.” The man’s neck reddened under his tan. “So I cain’t send her off on her own. I’m goin’ along. What I need is someone to bring in my hay.”

  Jonas started to speak but the other man held up his hand and kept on talking. “I know you’ve got your own place to look after, but my wife and I won’t make it through the winter without our crop. You’ve got enough boys to help you and I can pay you…”

  He named a sum.

  Enough to make Jonas sit back in his chair, reeling. The extra money could help pay for Breanna’s treatment. But he was already in enough of a bind with Breanna. With her condition she needed someone to watch her at all times. If she suffered a seizure and fell, she could injure herself badly. And with Mrs. Clark’s departure, he had no one to rely on.

  On the other hand, how could he pass up this opportunity? The money would nearly pay for Breanna’s treatment… How could he say no?

  * * *

  After they’d consumed the cold supper, Penny wilted in front of the fire in what used to be her grandmother’s rocking chair. Her head lolled to the left and took in her brother who was lying on the floor with his head on the rag rug.

  “You as exhausted as I am?”

  “Mmm,” he grunted, eyes closed. “Ready to go home.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to chide him for his earlier behavior, but something held her back. If she made Sam angry, he might cause more trouble. And with the barn in disrepair and now the kitchen needing to be fixed thanks to her ineptitude, she needed Sam on his best behavior to help with the work to be done. All right, to do the work.

  Walt bustled into the room, carrying a large tin tub and huffing with exertion. “Here ya go, missy.” He set the tub full of water in front of the crackling fire.

  “What?” Penny wasn’t sure what to make of it.

  Disappearing into his bedroom, he soon returned with a worn towel and a bar of rough soap. “Since the stove’s out of commission, it’ll have to be a cool bath. Sam and I’ll sneak down to the stream and wash off there.”

  Penny grimaced. A cold bath?

  “You’ll want to be clean for Sunday services in the morning.”

  She’d forgotten tomorrow was Sunday. Or maybe she’d put it out of her mind, because the two dresses she’d brought with her had been ruined. She had nothing to wear.

  “Grandfather, I’ve ruined both the dresses I brought with me.” One with soot and the other with milk and mud.

  “Don’t guess folks will care if you’re a little messy. We’re a casual bunch in Bear Creek.”

  “Well, I care.” She regretted her sharp tone instantly. Her grandfather had enough troubles without having to worry about clothing her. But she couldn’t wear either of her gowns to church, where people would see her. It was bad enough that Jonas and his family had seen her all a mess.

  “Reckon you could wear one of your grandmama’s gowns. They’re plainer than what you’re used to…” His voice trailed off as he went back into his bedroom.

  Penny grimaced. Wear something
her grandmother had worn? But they would be old and out of style! How could she let her grandfather down gently?

  Walt brought out a plain blue calico dress and presented it to Penny with a proud flourish. “It should be a close fit. You’re as tall as your grandmamma and near enough the same shape.”

  Penny flushed at his frank words, and Sam chuckled. She glared at her brother, who shrugged in false innocence.

  The dress was unembellished, with none of the lacy frills Penny liked. But it was unstained, and that’s what her grandfather seemed to think mattered.

  “She made it herself.” Pride colored her grandfather’s voice.

  Penny wasn’t surprised by his statement. She remembered learning some of the basic stitches at her grandmother’s knee. Probably at a much older age than most other girls would have learned. Penny’s mother didn’t believe her daughter needed to know how to sew a garment, not when she could afford to buy finery from the seamstress in Calvin or one in Cheyenne. But her gran had shared her love of sewing, and Penny had learned as much as she could during the summers she spent at the homestead.

  It was the one wifely skill Penny did have. Though her abilities were probably rusty from disuse now.

  But she couldn’t wear this dress. “I can’t—” She swallowed back the instant denial on her lips as her grandfather pushed the dress into her hands.

  “You can, Penny-girl.” His gaze seemed to intensify and she remembered how kind he’d been to listen to her worries about her father and Mr. Abbott out by the barn. “’Sides, it’s what’s on the inside of the dress that’s beautiful. That’s what matters.”

  She frowned, but accepted the dress. Maybe, after her bath, she could try to wash out one of her gowns. If she could get most of the stains out, perhaps it would dry by morning? Then she wouldn’t have to hurt her grandfather’s feelings by not wearing this dress.

  “Thought you might like to borrow this while you’re visiting, too.” Walt placed a well-worn Bible in her lap. “It was your gran’s. What made her so beautiful on the inside.”

  Penny looked down at the faded book. How many times had she seen her gran reading this at the kitchen table, in between cooking or sewing or other chores?

  But the Bible wasn’t likely to make her grandfather forget about the dress he wanted her to wear to church tomorrow.

  Chapter Eight

  Penny felt numerous eyes on her as the Whites’ wagon rolled into the churchyard. She was conspicuous on the wagon seat; everyone could see her in her grandmother’s dress.

  The results of washing one of her gowns had been disastrous. The silk had still been a damp, wrinkly mess this morning and most of the stains hadn’t come out anyway. So she’d had no choice but to wear the scratchy calico that was sadly out of date. She’d almost considered pretending to be ill, but knew she couldn’t disappoint her grandfather.

  And the first people to see her this morning had been all of the Whites, because apparently her grandfather liked the company on his way to church services every Sunday. Thankfully, Jonas and his sons had been too polite to comment on her appearance.

  “You planning to come down from there?”

  She looked down into Jonas’s frowning brown eyes as he reached up for her. Not waiting for an answer, his strong hands clasped her waist, spanning it easily. He hoisted her off the wagon seat without ceremony and deposited her on the ground.

  “I feel like everyone’s looking at me,” she whispered, huddling behind him, half-aware that his hands remained at her waist. Had his shoulders been this broad when he’d helped her in and out of the wagon just days ago?

  “They probably are.”

  She looked up at him sharply; his eyes squinted a little, scrutinizing her face, their brown depths unreadable.

  “We don’t have a lot of visitors, so newcomers like you and Sam are a novelty.”

  “’Specially someone as pretty as you, Miss Penny,” Breanna inserted, face appearing between the two adults as she looked up at them. Her presence spurred Penny to step back, leaving Jonas’s hands to fall away from her waist.

  “Especially someone as pretty as you,” Jonas echoed softly, looking surprised even as the words left his mouth. He took his daughter’s hand, and they turned toward the clapboard building, following the gaggle of boys.

  Penny joined her grandfather, noting the way his eyes glanced curiously from Jonas to her.

  Jonas’s compliment had bolstered her spirits for a brief moment, but a glance at a pair of prettily dressed young women approaching the church building on foot brought Penny’s discomfort right back.

  Sam shuffled his feet behind them.

  Inside Penny ended up squished into a row between Breanna and Sam, next to the rest of the Whites.

  Jonas’s robust baritone, from his place just on the other side of Breanna, surprised her into distraction as the small congregation stood and sang the first songs, but as the group sat down for the sermon, she caught a glance from a young man across the aisle.

  His eyes held a frank appraisal, but all Penny could feel was embarrassment at being caught out in her grandmother’s dress. She knew she was blushing, her face most likely mottling red, but she couldn’t help it.

  Movement from Breanna gave Penny an excuse to look away, and she glanced down at the girl to find her with her head turned in Penny’s direction. Jonas cleared his throat softly and Breanna returned her attention to the preacher. Jonas sent Penny a reproving frown above his daughter’s head.

  Blushing even more furiously, she attempted to pay attention to the sermon.

  But the unexpected attraction to Jonas White made it difficult. The shared moments as he’d helped her from the wagon before services had surprised her.

  No longer was he the shy teen she remembered from Philadelphia, the boy who would barely meet her eyes if she encountered him on her way out of the finishing school. Although he still seemed to be somewhat quiet in disposition, he had obviously made a success of his homestead, in order to support himself and eight children.

  The reminder of his circumstances brought an abrupt halt to her musings. Even if the fluttering in her stomach was attraction—and it could possibly be accounted for by the single biscuit and glass of milk she’d eaten this morning—she would never act on it. She wanted to fall in love with and marry someone who could support her in the style to which she was accustomed. She would simply have to be careful in her interactions with the homesteader.

  Sam shifted next to her and her attention shifted as well. He’d been sullen and silent this morning as they’d readied to leave from their grandfather’s home; then he’d been downright rude and ignored two of Jonas’s sons when they’d tried to engage him in conversation.

  If Sam caused trouble for Walt, he was likely to get them both sent home. And she didn’t want to be back in Calvin, where she would be subject to Mr. Abbott’s attentions.

  In addition, Walt needed help. If Sam messed up, who would take care of things at his homestead?

  * * *

  “Hey!”

  “Oomph!”

  The sound of fists meeting flesh and the knowledge that her brother had slipped away had Penny scurrying around the side of the church building in time to see Sam wrestle another boy to the ground.

  “Sam!” she shrieked, lifting her skirt to try and reach her brother before he could hurt the other boy.

  “Hey, stop!” Another voice joined hers, and one of Jonas’s older sons joined the scuffle. He made a valiant effort to contain the fistfight, but managed only to receive a punch in the face when he got in the middle.

  Before Penny could determine if she should step in, Jonas and Walt pushed past her and took control of the situation. Penny saw Walt receive an inadvertent elbow to the ribs and he hunched over, wheezing as he tried to breathe. She rushed to his side. “Grandfather!”

  Jonas drew both fighting boys to their feet, grasping each by their upper arm. His son, she thought it was Oscar, stood nearby, one hand holding
his nose.

  “What’s going on here?” Jonas demanded. “Why aren’t you boys over at the food tables? You’re supposed to be joining the picnic.”

  “He insulted my sister,” said the boy Penny didn’t know, pointing a finger at Sam.

  Sam stood silent, clothes mussed. His sullen refusal to meet any of their eyes made him look guilty.

  Jonas looked to his son who said, “I wasn’t close enough to hear. I only saw them go for each other at the same time and tried to stop them fighting.”

  “Sam, how could you?” Penny asked, still supporting her Grandfather’s elbow as he continued to wheeze. “We’re supposed to be helping Grandfather, not getting into trouble.”

  “I didn’t ask to be sent out here. That was all you and Mama. I’d rather be back home.”

  “Sam!” Penny exclaimed, but her brother jerked away from Jonas’s hold and stalked off among the wagons parked in front of the church building. Penny wondered if she should go after him, but her grandfather still wasn’t breathing correctly and she knew anything she said to Sam in the heat of the moment would be brushed off.

  “He reminds me a bit of Edgar when he first came to me… Needs some hard work and some discipline.” Jonas uttered the terse words and then moved away, clapping a hand on his son’s shoulder as he guided the boy away from the scene of the confrontation.

  Walt still fought for breath. The rattle in his chest concerned Penny deeply. He hadn’t seemed sick since she and Sam had arrived, but this breathing trouble could be serious. She hooked her hand under the older man’s elbow as he coughed once more and then finally seemed to catch his breath.

  “I think Jonas is right.” Walt straightened, wiping a stray drop of spittle from his chin with the back of one hand. “Your pa’s spoiled that boy. A strong hand is what he needs.”

  Perhaps so, but who would provide it? They were only visiting Walt for a couple of weeks, and then Sam would return to the same situation at home.

  “Are you certain you’re all right?” Penny asked, instead of commenting on her brother’s actions. “Have you caught your breath?”