Maude shook her head. Remembering what he’d said, about why he’d been angry because he was worried for her safety, because he cared about her, and the conversation that had followed, sent pink heat flooding her cheeks. “He said he understands I had no other choice.”
As she feared, Juana’s bright eyes hadn’t missed the sudden flush of color in Maude’s face.
“He said more than that, didn’t he? Maude, what did he say? Hector said Senor MacLaren was like a man possessed, once he realized you were missing—pacing up and down on the carpet as if he wanted to wear a furrow into it, searching the barn again and again to see if you were there. He said he feared the man would go loco...”
At the mention of MacLaren’s foreman, Juana’s eyes brightened. Yes, it had not been very long since her own husband’s death, but Juana found Jonas’s right-hand man interesting, and it said much that the foreman had confided in her. But Maude forbore to tease her friend right now, thinking she’d tried Juana’s patience enough today.
“Juana, he said he was angry because he was worried—because he cares for me,” she told her friend, allowing her amazement to show.
“Aahh,” Juana said, infusing a world of meaning into the drawn-out syllable. “He cares. I thought so, mi amiga. What will you do now?”
“Do? There’s nothing I can do as long as he keeps so many secrets. How can I let myself care for a man who’s as secretive as he is? How do I know he’s not wanted for murder or something equally horrible back in Scotland?”
“What an imagination you have, Maude!” Juana cried, laughing. “I think you should give the man a chance. After all, look how kind and understanding he is to his mother, who can be difficult at times, yes? Mi madre—my mother—always said that a man who treats his mother well will treat his wife well, too. Jonas MacLaren will show you what he is, if you give him time—and you’re right here under his roof, in a perfect position to observe. You don’t have to be in a rush to decide.”
Maude dropped a quick kiss on Juana’s brow. “You are very wise, my friend. Thank you. And now I’m sure we should get some rest, or tomorrow will come before we are ready.”
Because she had napped earlier, Maude lay awake for a long time that night, listening to Juana’s and Hannah’s even, soft breathing. What would Jonas do, now that he had made his surprising declaration of caring for her? But she found no answers in the darkness. As Juana had indicated, she would have to wait and see. She finally fell asleep until Hannah woke to be nursed near dawn.
* * *
Jonas had no easier time than Maude in finding rest. How did a man go about courting a girl like Maude in his own home, under his mother’s eagle eye? It wasn’t as if he could bring her flowers—even in the relatively mild climate of the Hill Country there were no roses or wild flowers blooming in November to be picked for her. And he suspected it would take more than flowers to cause Maude Harkey to drop her guard with him.
It would take nothing less than the full truth to gain her heart, he knew that now. But before she learned the full truth, he needed for her to like him, or nothing would persuade her to stay with him another moment once she learned the whole story. Yes, making her like him would have to be the first step toward love...and the more he thought on it, the more he realized just how hard he would have to work to reach it. The first day they’d met he certainly hadn’t charmed her with his cynical remarks about love. He knew she never would have come to Five Mile Hill Ranch to tend to his mother if baby Hannah hadn’t come into her life, and with her, the need to find a new home. No, he was not off to a promising start on his goal of making her like him. He would have to work harder—show her that there was more to him than the curt man she met at the barbecue.
He suspected he would also have to improve his relationship with the Lord. Maude was a woman of faith, so she wouldn’t ally herself with a faithless man like himself. But how could he believe in a heavenly Father, a God of love, after the example his earthly father had set?
Lord, help me, show me the way, he prayed, then marveled that he had addressed words to Heaven. Was there anyone to hear them? And would God have any interest in answering the prayers of a man like him?
* * *
“Might ye be free for a little while this afternoon once you’re finished with your other tasks?” Jonas asked.
His question surprised Maude, but she laid down her soup spoon and considered. Mrs. MacLaren had been served her noon meal and was now dozing in her chair, so she was free of any duty toward her for a while. Senora Morales considered herself fully healed and had resumed her position as queen of the kitchen and denied needing any help.
Pedro the shepherd had shown up this morning, and with a shy pride had indicated he was here to collect his wife and baby son. His joy when Maude had taken him to see them was enough to bring tears to her eyes. Hector had allowed him to borrow a wagon to take his wife and child home, and he had done so with touching gratitude. Dulcey had given Maude an affectionate farewell, and had only left after Maude had promised to pay a visit to her and Pedrito at her earliest convenience. She could tell the young shepherd’s wife felt a deep admiration toward Maude for saving hers and her baby’s lives.
“I just have Hannah to watch, but otherwise, yes,” Maude said, nodding in the direction of the baby, who was toying with a crust of bread, hoping Jonas wouldn’t ask why Juana wasn’t available to watch her. Juana had fed the child and then gone off to have the midday meal with Hector, but Maude didn’t feel free to discuss this with Jonas. She knew Juana wouldn’t be gone too long, anyway.
Jonas MacLaren smiled at the baby, who grinned back like a born coconspirator. “The wee lass is no problem. In fact, I think she might like what I plan to be showing you.”
“Oh? And what would that be?”
He waggled a finger at her. “You’ll just have to wonder until you come with me,” he said with maddening vagueness. “’Tis out in the barn.”
Maude stared at him, but his hazel eyes gave no clue. If he was encouraging Hannah’s presence, he could hardly be planning anything scandalous. Besides, during the day there were apt to be cowhands coming into the barn to take a horse out of a stall or to retrieve a saddle or bridle from the tack room, and Jonas had to know that their solitude might be interrupted.
“I’m finished now,” she said, gesturing at her empty plate. “There’s no time like the present to see what you’re being so mysterious about.”
Grabbing her shawl from its hook by the door, she followed him as he led the way across the courtyard toward the barn. Walking into the shady interior of the barn, she smelled the characteristic odors of horses, hay and leather. When he got to the tack room he pushed open the door.
As the door creaked on its hinges, a big tabby cat streaked past him and out toward the sunlight.
“Need a bit of time away from your bairns, Tiger? Never fear, we’ve only come to admire them,” Jonas said as a protesting chorus of mews erupted from the far end of the room.
The tack room was big enough for a semicircle of old chairs beyond the racks of saddles and bridles. It looked like a gathering spot where the vaqueros might sit and trade yarns and laughter while they cleaned tack.
And here, Maude saw as her eyes adjusted to the shadowy room, Tiger had left her litter in a box of old rags.
“Kittens,” she breathed in delight, hurrying forward to kneel in front of them, grinning at the squirming mass in the box—black, white, orange, gray tiger like their mother, and one spotted with patches of black and brown. There had to be at least half a dozen, though they were so close together and constantly moving, it was hard to count.
“Let me hold the lass while you get a closer look,” Jonas said, taking Hannah from her.
Once her hands were free, Maude impulsively picked up the spotted one and held to her cheek, giggling as it wriggled and mewed, its littl
e paws scrabbling for something to hold on to. She let it perch on her shoulder, then giggled as it began to purr and lap her neck with its sandpaper-rough tongue.
“Aren’t they a bonny sight?” Jonas asked, sitting down on the rough board floor so that Hannah could get a closer look from his lap. The sight evidently pleased the baby, too, for she squealed in excitement as one of the bolder kittens drew near, climbing over Jonas’s leg.
“But I thought kittens were always born in the spring,” Maude said.
Jonas grinned. “So their mother’s a wee bit daft and chose to have her babies in the fall,” he said with a shrug. “Who can tell a cat what to do?”
She chuckled, then nearly lost her breath as she watched Jonas holding Hannah, an arm protectively curved around her to hold her upright. The sight sent an odd surge of tenderness racing through Maude. He looked so natural with the child, as if Hannah were his daughter and he had planned this treat just for her.
“They’re darling,” Maude murmured, sighing in delight as the kitten she held kept purring. She remembered a cat she’d had as a child, colored very much like this one. “I wish Hannah and I could keep one. But they’re probably not old enough yet to leave their mother, are they?”
Jonas looked thoughtful, staring at the far end of the room. “If I ken aright, they were born two months ago at the full moon, so aye, they could leave. I’ve already found a couple of the rascals out exploring in the stalls. Pretty soon they’ll all have scattered around the barn, doing what cats do. I had nae thought of bringing one into the house—Mother has a weakness for wee things like kittens, but she’d have a conniption the first time she found one sharpening its claws on her sofa leg.” He looked momentarily regretful, then brightened. “Now that you mention it, though, Senora Morales was just wishing for a cat to keep the mice away from the pantry,” he said. “I believe we’ll take the kitty for a visit into the big house, after all,” he said. “I’ll leave the decision to you as to which kitten to choose. Mother will get used to the idea. She wouldn’t like mice in the oatcakes, would she? We’ll do our best to keep the animal away from the furniture. The worst Mother can do is to banish the creature from the house,” he added with a grin that was so infectious Maude couldn’t help but grin back while her heart did a funny little flip-flop at the sight of “the” MacLaren’s upward-curved lips.
Then she saw that he had seen her smiling, and there was a sudden intensity to Jonas’s gaze. He leaned toward her...
Hannah shrieked in protest, for the kitten had climbed down from Jonas’s arms and was out of Hannah’s reach. It was now stalking Maude’s fingers in her lap.
It was enough to interrupt the moment, and to stop Jonas from...kissing her? Was that what he had been about to do, or was she only imagining the intent that had gleamed in those golden eyes? Surely she had seen something that wasn’t there, she told herself, yet a smile of regret—at the interruption?—curved his lips now.
“Perhaps we’d best be getting back to the house so our new ‘guest’ can get settled in the kitchen. Is this the kitten you’ve decided upon, then?” he asked, nodding toward the one in Maude’s lap, then back at the surging, meowing mass of half a dozen kittens of various colors.
“Yes. Mama always said to pick the one that picked you first,” she told him, dredging up a memory she hadn’t even realized she still had of the day she had adopted a kitten so long ago.
“Good advice, I’m sure,” he murmured, and handing Hannah back to Maude, hoisted the kitten to his chest. The image was every bit as unexpectedly appealing as the sight of him cradling Hannah in his arms.
Maude looked away before she could do something foolish—like ask him if he’d wanted to kiss her after all.
Chapter Twelve
Coira MacLaren watched with narrowed eyes as Maude and her son approached her bed.
“What have ye got there?” she demanded. “And why are ye bringing it into my room?”
“We just thought you’d like to see one of the barn cat’s new litter, Mother,” Jonas said, holding it close to the old woman. The calico kitten chose that moment to let out a plaintive meow as Jonas laid it gently on her bed.
“Ah, the wee sweet creature!” Coira cooed, reaching for it and astonishing Maude at the transformation in her mood. “What are ye doin’ in the house now? So soft ye are! Are you a boy or a girl kitty?”
“Maude informs me calico cats are almost always female,” Jonas told her. “Senora Morales was saying she needed a cat in the kitchen to keep away the mice—”
“Och, ’tis not for me?” protested Coira, pouting. “But it’s so bonny and lively...” She picked up a loose ribbon that had bound her braid of gingery hair, and trailed it in front of the kitten. Instinctively, the kitten coiled and pounced, capturing the end of the ribbon in its tiny paws.
“Well, I suppose we could always get another kitten for the kitchen,” Jonas allowed with a grin.
“No, one cat in the house is enough,” his mother said. “I suppose she’s a bit wee yet to be catching mice, so she can stay and distract an old woman from her pain. When she gets older, ’twill be time to think of putting her to work. Mind you, Jonas, she’ll need a box of dirt so she can mind her manners. And while you’re seeing to that, why don’t ye fetch a saucer of milk up from the kitchen. Such a tiny thing’s bound to need nourishment. Are ye sure she’s old enough to leave her mother?”
“Yes, she is, and I’ll go fetch the milk,” Jonas promised, and with a wink at Maude, he left.
“You said you’re in pain, Mrs. MacLaren,” Maude murmured. “Do you need some more of the willow bark tea?” She’d been giving the older woman some with her breakfast every morning, and Mrs. MacLaren claimed there was nothing like it to make her aching joints less swollen and painful. Occasionally she needed some later in the day, too, but Maude was careful not to give it to her too often, knowing the tea contained a powerful medicine that should not be overused.
“Nay, I’ll be all right now, with this wee sprightly thing to distract me,” Coira said. “Come sit with me for a moment, till my son returns.”
Bemused at their unexpected success with convincing Mrs. MacLaren to allow the kitten to stay in the house, Maude sank into the bedside chair.
Coira turned on her side to face Maude. “I know what you’re about, you know.”
Maude was so surprised at the woman’s sudden change of tone she could only goggle at her. “About? Whatever do you mean, Mrs. MacLaren?”
“You’re scheming to capture my son’s affection, and you’ve certainly got an advantage, living under the same roof and constantly showing yourself off as a heroine.”
Sensing the change in the atmosphere, the calico kitten dashed off the bed and darted underneath it.
Maude felt the sudden kindling of her famous temper at the unexpected, undeserved attack. “Scheming? Mrs. MacLaren, I seek nothing but your son’s well-being, and yours, too,” she said hotly. “Jonas has made no commitment to me,” she said. A man saying he cared for you wasn’t a commitment, was it?
Coira pounced on her use of her son’s first name much as the kitten had. “Jonas. Ye call him by his first name, then deny you’re after him?”
Maude was past caution now. “If you no longer need my services, then please have your son take me back to Simpson Creek. But first tell me why you’d deny your son the right to happiness, to a life of his own.”
“I? I would deny Jonas nothing,” the woman hissed. “But he was happy once, aye, and in love, too. The love of his life, Annabella MacKenzie was. And then he had to bury his love and leave her in a Scottish grave—all because of his father. How much of a heart do ye think he has left to give anyone? Ye might say I’m lookin’ out for your good, too, girl.”
Maude could only stare at the woman lying in the bed. Then she staggered unsteadily from the room, intent on reaching t
he sanctuary of her room before she gave way to tears.
* * *
He’d been expecting the knock on his door since he’d returned to his mother’s room and found Maude gone and the kitten hiding under the bed.
“Where’d Maude go?” he asked as he set the saucer down on the floor. The kitten crawled out from its hiding place to lap at it.
Coira shrugged. “How should I know? She’s a moody creature, that one.”
Jonas leaned over his mother with both hands resting on the bed. “What did you say to her?”
His mother’s sudden defiant expression confirmed his worst suspicions. “Nothing she didn’t need to hear, my lad.”
Aghast, he stared at her, then turned on his heel and walked quickly down the hall to the room Maude shared with Juana and Hannah.
He knocked. There was no answer. He called through the door. No answer still, but he heard Hannah commence a fretful crying. Finally, just as he was about to start shouting, Juana quietly opened the door a crack, just enough to give her room to step out into the hall, shutting it behind her before he could see inside. She held Hannah, who was rubbing her eyes and whimpering.
“I’m sorry, Miss Juana. I’ve wakened the bairn, haven’t I? Sorry,” he mumbled again.
“Yes, you did,” she said, but gave him a small smile of forgiveness. “I’m sorry, Senor Jonas, but Maude is in no condition to talk to you right now. Perhaps mañana—tomorrow.”
Wait until tomorrow? Impossible. He wanted to tell Juana what she could do with her mañana, but he reminded himself that this situation wasn’t her fault. She was only trying to protect her friend by relaying a message. But there was no way he could endure a night without knowing what his mother had said to Maude, or whether she hated him now and would announce her departure tomorrow.
“Miss Juana, please,” he said, letting Maude’s friend see the anguish that he felt, “I can’t wait that long. I must speak to her. Please tell Maude—that is, please ask Maude—to meet me in the parlor tonight, after the household is quiet. After the grandfather clock in the hall strikes ten, say?”
Hill Country Courtship (Brides of Simpson Creek Book 8) Page 14