by Stacy Henrie
Ravena’s mouth fell open and she stopped walking. Was he trying to tell her how to run the farm? Indignation rose inside her as hot as the sun on her back and arms.
“You have no right, Tex Beckett,” she said, her voice shaking with fury. “No right to plow my field before you disappear again or offer your completely unsolicited advice. You left, Tex. By your own volition last time, but this time, I’m demanding that you go.”
Her words had the desired effect. Tex jerked back on the reins and turned to face her. “I’m not leaving, Ravena. Not yet.”
“Yes, you are.” She clenched her hands into fists at her sides, anger and fear dueling inside her. “I will not allow you to manipulate me or think that plowing my field somehow makes up for...for...” She swallowed the fast-forming lump in her throat. “That it somehow makes up for everything else. I want you to leave. And if you don’t, I’m sending Jacob for the sheriff.”
She spun on her heel, intent on making good on her threat, but Tex moved quicker and stopped her with a hand to her elbow. At his touch, her pulse galloped for an entirely different reason than resentment or panic. “Ravena, wait. You’re right.”
Searching his blue gaze, she couldn’t detect any deceit there. But how well did she really know him now? “Right about what?”
“Plowing your field doesn’t make up for the past. And it isn’t supposed to.” He lowered his hand and a traitorous prick of disappointment shot through her. “I want to help with the rest of the plowing and the planting too.”
She folded her arms, suspicious. “Why?” What made him want to stick around this time when he hadn’t all those years ago?
Tex ran his hand over his clean-shaven jaw in a gesture of pure agitation. “I’d like to help because you need it.”
When she opened her mouth to protest, he forged on, “I know you’ll say you don’t. But Jacob says otherwise, and I can see with my own eyes how much work there is right now. You’ve helped me more than your fair share this last week. So let me help you.”
She sensed only sincerity behind his admission, but she still wanted to tell him no. She needed him gone, away, and no longer wreaking havoc in her life and with her feelings. But would she be able to find someone else as willing to help as he seemed to be?
“I can only pay you the same wage I did the other hired hands,” she said, her chin held firm and aloft. She wouldn’t let him see yet that she was beginning to waver in her resolve to turn him out.
“I don’t want your money, Ravena. I’m offering to help without pay.” He pushed his hat up, then tugged it back down as if embarrassed. “It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done to help me get well.”
He’d work for free? Her adamancy that he leave was weakening by the second. “How long will you stay?”
A slow smile lifted his mouth and brightened his blue eyes. The kind of smile that had once lit her world. “Does that mean you accept my offer?”
“Answer the question first, Tex.” She bristled. “How long?”
He glanced at the field. “Until the spring planting’s completed.”
It was a tempting offer. Ravena fiddled with the end of her braid as she considered it. She would only need to manage having him around for another few weeks.
Could he be an answer to her prayers? If so, she might need to be more specific with the Lord in the future about whom she could and could not put up with for help. Still, with Tex’s assistance, they would likely get the planting done on time. And since she wouldn’t be paying him a wage, she could use that money to hopefully hire someone willing to work for cheap to finish building the larger house.
She threw him a glance to find him watching her, and suddenly, she needed to know why he’d disappeared that night. If she was going to agree to let him stay on or not, she needed an answer to the question that had haunted her for so long. “Why didn’t you come back, Tex?”
A puzzled expression settled onto his handsome face. “I did. That’s why I’m standing here.”
“No.” She shook her head, her heart thrashing faster. Did she want to know the answer? There’d be no unhearing Tex’s response. “I mean,” she plunged on, “why didn’t you come for me like we’d planned?”
Understanding washed the color from his jaw and he shifted his weight. Would he tell her the truth? Ravena clasped her hands tightly together, hoping she looked more brave and unaffected than she felt.
“I planned to. But then...” He wiped his hand over his chin. Ravena held her breath. “I realized you deserved far better than me.”
She released the pressure in her lungs in a soft whoosh, feeling just as deflated. He’d decided she deserved better, but he hadn’t bothered to ask if she felt that way too. “I see.”
But she didn’t, not completely. Something had happened that night, between the time they’d finalized their plans to elope and Tate showing up at the farm to say Tex had disappeared.
She considered pressing Tex for more of an explanation, and yet, she couldn’t stomach reopening the old wounds any more than they’d already been. His answer wasn’t as satisfying as she’d hoped...but it didn’t hurt as much as she’d feared either. And really, what did it matter in the end?
Tex hadn’t come back for her, which meant she hadn’t made the mistake of leaving her grandfather alone. Those were the realities of the past. But she hated that she’d pinned everything on Tex’s word and had come so close to turning her back on the home she’d loved for the man she’d trusted. A man who’d gone back on his promise to be there for her always and come for her that night. A man who stood before her now, offering to help when she needed it most.
Can I do it, Lord? If Tex stuck around, the past was likely to keep eating at her. But surely she could endure some discomfort over the next few weeks if it made her better able to care for the children—and bring the other four boys to the farm.
“All right.” Ravena stuck out her hand for him to shake. “I accept your offer.”
His hand closed over hers. “You won’t regret it, Ravena,” he said, his gaze unusually serious. “I promise.”
She’d heard those words before. Breaking his hold, she strode toward the house to see how Ginny was coming at starting supper. Everything inside her hoped that Tex would fulfill his promise. Because she wasn’t the only one counting on him this time.
* * *
Tex hobbled toward the porch, the sun’s dying rays a fitting backdrop to how he felt. His body, and particularly his healing wound, protested each step. And he’d only been plowing that field for a couple hours. Outlawing wasn’t exactly a life free of activity, but he hadn’t done hard labor like this in years and every one of his muscles was determined to remind him of that fact.
Opening the screen and then the front door, he entered to the murmur of conversation coming from the back of the house. Mark and Luke had found him in the barn a few minutes earlier, seeing to the horses, and had announced it was time for supper. “And Miss Ravena ain’t partial to latecomers,” Mark warned.
Tex managed to work up a small smile at the memory of the boy’s words as he moved slowly down the hall. Ravena might run the farm with a steady hand, but she was compassionate too. It wasn’t hard to see how much the children loved and respected her. That was something he could easily relate to—she’d always engendered his love and respect as well.
Until you abandoned her.
A tremor of shame and guilt rocked him at the errant thought and stole what little strength he had left. Tex splayed his hand against the wall to hold himself upright. He’d thought he’d suppressed his regret over not coming back for Ravena that night. But being here again and having her ask him earlier about the past was making it harder and harder to ignore.
Laughter floated toward him, beckoning him forward, and away from the painful past. He hadn’t yet eaten in the ki
tchen with Ravena and the children. Tex gritted his teeth against his despondency, fighting it back with reminders that he was here to help her now. Surely that was something. Pushing away from the wall, he forced himself to walk instead of limp into the kitchen.
All of the children were seated, except for Ginny who assisted Ravena in carrying the dishes to the table. The laughter faded as he stepped through the doorway.
“Smells good,” Tex said, a little louder than necessary. But he was desperate for an escape from the physical and emotional pain battling inside himself. “Then again, it usually does.”
He noticed Ravena’s cheeks flush pink, though she didn’t change her passive expression. “You’re welcome to take a seat after you wash up.” She and Ginny sat at the table.
Crossing to the sink, he lifted the pump and began to wash his hands in the stream of water. “What’s for supper?”
His only response came in the form of a girlish giggle. Tex turned to see Fanny covering her mouth with her hands. The rest of the children were staring down at their empty plates, but they were all fighting smiles.
“All right,” he half growled, trying to sound stern. He’d never cared for being the butt of a joke, but the children’s smiles were irresistible. He dried his hands on the nearby towel and turned to face them. “What’s got Fanny in stitches?”
Another giggle leaked between the girl’s small fingers and nearly prompted a grin from Tex. But he hid it as he folded his arms and regarded each of the children in turn with a shrewd look. When his gaze fell on Ravena, he was surprised to find a half smile on her face. The sight of it was like sampling a cool drink of water after trekking through the hot desert.
“We were having a rather amusing conversation, which Mark started,” Ravena offered by way of explanation as she began dishing up the food.
Tex took a seat beside Ginny. “And what did you say?” he asked, turning to Mark. But the boy took one look at his little brother and they both burst out laughing.
“I’ll tell it.” Jacob placed a roll on his plate and passed the bowl with the rest of the bread to Ginny. “He and Luke were telling us how they found you asleep just now, standing in the barn and holding the pitchfork.” The boys were right—Tex had been so tired that he’d nodded off for a moment. “Then Fanny wanted to know if that meant you were half horse since they sometimes sleep standing up. And Ginny said she’s read that elephants often nap the same way. So then Luke wondered, if like an elephant, you’d eat all the food and then you came in and said ‘Smells good...’”
“Ah, makes sense now.” Accepting the bowl of bread from Ginny, he made sure to catch Luke’s eye. Then he proceeded to set one roll after another onto his plate until there were none left. “Now that I think about it, I am rather famished.”
Luke’s mouth formed a silent O, which succeeded in eliciting more laughter from everyone around the table, including Ravena. The sound of her laughter wound its way straight into Tex’s chest, both comforting and sad. It had been far too many years since he’d heard her laugh. When her eyes met his, her open and happy countenance disappeared and her smile faded. He’d seen them, though, and he knew he’d inspired them. It was a small victory but a victory nonetheless.
Piling all but one roll back into the bowl, he passed it to Fanny at his left. Luke appeared visibly relieved. Soon Tex had his plate heaped high with warm food. He was starving. Lifting his fork, he scooped up a full bite. Before he could bring it to his mouth though, Mark declared, “You ain’t supposed to eat before the prayer, Mr. Beckett.”
“Aren’t supposed to eat.” Ravena threw Tex a quick look. “And Mark is right. We say the blessing on our meal first.”
Tex squirmed a little in his chair as all eyes rested on him again. Removing his hat, he bowed his head as much in compliance as to hide from the children’s scrutiny. Could they see that he was as far from religious as a man could likely get?
“It’s your turn, Fanny,” Ravena said kindly.
As the little girl began praying, Tex obediently shut his eyes. “Our Father in Heaven, bless our supper. And bless me, and Jacob, and Ginny, and Mark, and Luke, and Miss Ravena. And bless Mr. Beckett...”
Tex’s eyelids flew open. He stared in shock at Fanny’s bent head and clasped hands, missing the rest of her words. When was the last time someone had prayed for him? Probably not since before his mother had passed away. But he amended that thought with the recollection that at one time his brother Tate used to pray for him. Did Tate still do that? Or was his twin still as angry as he’d been the last time Tex had seen him?
Fanny ended her prayer, a chorus of amens following hers. It was a signal to Tex to set aside thoughts of the past—once again. Why did they keep plaguing him today? he wondered as he put his hat back on. Perhaps it was because he was nearly recovered from his injury and not concentrating anymore on healing or revealing too much in his feverish state. But he hadn’t counted on coming face-to-face with his history when he’d made his decision to stick around and help Ravena with the planting.
The itch inside him, the one that had always indicated he’d stayed too long in one spot, began nibbling at him as it had earlier. He lifted his fork again and glanced up to find Ravena watching him. Could she see him wrestling with himself?
Frowning, Ravena looked away. But Tex felt certain she’d seen something on his face. She thinks I’m still going to up and leave, even after my offer to help. The realization shouldn’t have shocked him, but it did. At one time his word had meant something to her. And yet...
The children’s conversation bounced back and forth across the table, but Tex felt detached from it. He managed to eat most of the delicious meal, but his sour thoughts soon soured his stomach. Pushing back from the table, he gathered up his dishes and moved toward the sink.
“Should I wash my things now?” He avoided looking directly at Ravena.
“No, it’s all right,” she answered. “Mark and Jacob have dishes tonight.”
The younger boy’s audible groans coaxed a bit of a smile from Tex before he headed outside. Gulping in the night air, he winced at the pain in his side. He had to believe at some point it would cease bothering him, though he doubted he’d done himself any favors with the labor he’d undertaken that afternoon. Riding a horse full out, to escape both the sheriff and Quincy, felt like easy work after plowing that field. He probably ought to get to sleep, but he didn’t feel like being cooped up in the house right now.
He moved slowly to the corral and rested his boot on the lowest rung of the fence. Nearly every corner of this place held memories for him—ones with him and Ravena, and ones with both of them and Tate. Tex pushed out a long breath, desperate to clear his head.
Ravena might expect him to leave, but he wasn’t going anywhere. Not until he’d fulfilled his promise to help her with the planting. Hopefully by then Quincy would have given up searching for Tex and he’d be free to return to the life he’d chosen.
“Not hungry? Or did the food taste badly?”
Tex waited for Ravena to walk closer before he responded, slightly surprised she’d sought him out. “The meal was excellent, as always. So I guess it’s the former.”
Resting her arms on the fence rail, she glanced up at the twilight sky. “How’s your side feeling tonight?”
“Right as rain after your doctoring.” He forced a smile.
Instead of prompting one in return with his compliment, Ravena frowned. “I know that isn’t true, Tex. You can’t be injured like that and not have it aggravate you when you start to move about and work.”
“Fine.” Something in him hardened at her keen perceptiveness and the fact that maybe he was losing his ability to sweet-talk a woman. “Truth is I feel like death walking. Is that better?”
Ravena gave a light laugh, catching him off guard once more. “That’s refreshingly better. I’m ti
red of men coming around and overpromising what they can do, how much they can handle, just to back out in the end.”
Tex had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that she wasn’t just talking about farm hands. “Is that what you think I’m doing, overpromising?”
“Aren’t you?” She twisted to face him, her expression a mixture of determined pride and frightened vulnerability. He’d seen that same look, nearly a decade ago, when he’d asked her to elope with him. Then and now, it made him want to pull her into his arms. His only defense was to harden himself against getting too close.
He feigned a nonchalant posture. “Still looking for rain when there isn’t a cloud in the sky, huh?”
Her shoulders stiffened and she reared back slightly. A prick of pain flicked through him—he’d hurt her with his deliberate teasing. But he had to keep his distance. For her protection...and for his. The more she questioned him about the past, the closer she’d likely come to unearthing the truth about what he’d done since leaving the first time.
“Perhaps in that I haven’t changed,” Ravena said, her voice as tight as her folded arms. “But as you’ll recall, the last time you were here, Tex, the sky was sparkling blue and then you dropped a hurricane on me. Without ever bothering to look back and see the damage and debris.”
The guilt he’d been dodging all day wound around his lungs and squeezed. But he wasn’t ready to voice it, let alone feel it. “Look. I said I’d stay for the planting. And I aim to. I will.”
“I guess we’ll see.” She started to walk away before calling back, “A warm poultice on your side might help with the soreness. Let me know if you want one.” Then she moved at a steady pace back toward the house.
Tex faced the corral again, but not before kicking at one of the posts with his boot. He was trying, couldn’t she see that? He wasn’t any more thrilled with doing farm work than Ravena clearly was with him staying. Still, beneath all that probably needed saying between them, he knew he had a debt to pay. Ravena had been right when she’d said he hadn’t looked back to see how his choices had affected her and her life. And though everything inside him was urging him to saddle up Brutus and ride away a second time, he couldn’t do it. Maybe it was only to prove to Ravena that he wasn’t all bad.