She was happy for her sister, and glad Lara was free of the lout she first married. Jo shuddered as she remembered the times Tom had tried to charm her—and had even stolen a kiss. She’d slapped him, of course, but the fact that she had secretly enjoyed it had proved that she was a bad girl—far different from her sister.
Why couldn’t she have been more like Lara?
The sun had risen over halfway in the sky by the time she reached town. People were milling around everywhere, tending to business or chatting. The streets were lined with horses, buggies, and buckboards. There was something about the busyness of town that she loved.
At Baron’s barn, she dismounted, tended to her horse, and then washed her hands at the pump behind the store. She dried them on her cloak and hurried inside, eager to begin working. Three people were already shopping. Baron talked with a man in the corner by the tack. Two women stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the rolls of fabric. Jo quickly donned her apron and rushed over. “May I be of assistance?”
Baron must have heard her, because he glanced over his shoulder and smiled. Her stomach flipped a somersault, and she pressed her hand to it, forcing herself not to react to the unwanted feelings of attraction.
For the next half hour, she busied herself helping the women pick out fabric, thread, ribbon, and lace for two evening dresses they were planning to make. Baron finished up with the man he sold a bridle to and was straightening the tack when the women left the store. Jo scurried back to the fabric area and tidied it as well.
“How was your ride this morning?”
“A bit chilly, but nice. The sun kept me warm enough.”
Baron crossed the store, his boots thudding on the wood floor. “And how is little Jamie today?”
“He’s figuring out that I’m leaving after he eats breakfast, and he got a bit fussy today when Sarah took him upstairs.”
“I can see that bothers you.”
Jo shrugged. “Nothing to be done about it. I’m sure he’s forgotten about me by now.”
Baron took hold of her shoulders and gazed down at her. “Don’t say such a thing. A child could never forget his mother.”
Her mouth went dry at his nearness and the intensity of his dark blue gaze. But memories of her own parents, whom she barely remembered, overwhelmed her, and she turned back to the thread case. Everything was perfectly straight, but she rearranged several colors anyway. “I can’t remember what my mother’s face looked like.”
“What happened to her?” Baron’s warm breath brushed her neck.
“Both she and my pa died in a fire when our house burned down.”
He returned his hands to her shoulders, gently tightening his grip, anchoring her to him. “I’m so sorry. How did you and your sister manage to escape?”
“We were away on an errand. And there are three of us. Lara and I have an older brother named Jack.”
“I didn’t know about him.”
“We don’t talk much about Jack. He rode out of our lives about a year after we went to live with our grandparents—and right after my grandma died. We haven’t seen him since.”
“You’ve faced so much loss in your life. No wonder you’re tough.”
She turned to face him. “You think I’m tough?”
“Maybe tenacious better illustrates what I mean. And you’re a hard worker.”
She warmed under his compliment. She caught his gaze, holding it for a long moment. Her heartbeat stampeded. How could this gentle, considerate man be related to Mark? She suddenly realized she was still gawking at him and turned away, searching for some other task.
The doorbell dinged, and Jo started toward the woman, who glanced up at her and suddenly halted, halfway in.
“I remember you. Didn’t your husband own this store?”
Jo wanted to run but held her ground and nodded. “Yes, ma’am, he did. My brother-in-law is now overseeing the operations of Hillborne’s.”
Mrs. Scott’s gaze shot to Baron and back to Jo. “I see.” She closed the door and looked around. “I was so delighted to see that the store had reopened. I wanted to come sooner, but a bout of rheumatism kept me close to my bed. So where’s that handsome husband of yours?”
Jo ducked her head and shook it. “I’m sad to say he’s gone.”
“Oh my heavens. I’m so sorry. But you’re young enough to find another man.”
Jo looked up, stiffening as if a steel rod were running down her spine. “I don’t need another man, Mrs. Scott. I’m perfectly able to take care of myself.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that. Perhaps it’s best that I be on my way.”
She spun around and raced from the store before Jo could say a thing. Baron would probably be furious with her for chasing away a customer. She mentally prepared herself for a lashing, but from behind her came a chuckle. Jo turned to see Baron struggling to hold back his amusement.
“You thought that was funny? You do realize I just chased away a potential customer.”
“It was worth it to see her expression.”
“Even if she never comes back?” She turned to face him.
“I don’t want her business if she’s going to question you and make you uncomfortable. You don’t owe anyone an explanation about your past.”
She stiffened but then realized that he was referring to his brother, not the bordello. “Thank you.”
“I mean it, Jo.”
The door opened again, and they both looked in that direction. A thin man with an odd hat slipped in and looked around. When his gaze found Baron, he moved toward him. “You Baron Hillborne?”
“Yes, I am.”
The man pulled something from his pocket. “You’ve got a telegram.”
Jo sucked in a breath. Telegrams generally brought bad news. Had something happened to one of Baron’s parents or the family business?
He collected the paper and handed the man a coin. “Thank you.”
Jo could read the tension in his expression and the way he held his body stiff. The telegraph man closed the door and briskly walked past the store window.
The paper rattled as Baron opened it and scanned the brief missive. muscle in his jaw ticked, and he lifted a worried gaze to her.
She stepped forward and placed one hand on his arm. “What’s wrong?”
She saw him swallow. Several emotions crossed his face; then he handed her the telegram.
HEARD YOU REOPENED STORE. AM RETURNING TO GUTHRIE ON THE 14TH. MARK.
Chapter 14
No!” The paper fell from Jo’s hand as she felt the blood drain from her face. She touched her fingertips to her forehead. “What am I going to do? I can’t face him again. He can’t know that I’m in town.” She reached for Baron’s arm. “Please. You can’t tell him.”
Baron laid his hand over Jo’s. “You have my word. You must not come to the store again until I manage to get rid of him.”
“But I need the work.”
“You can work after he’s gone. I know Mark. He’s only coming back to taunt me.”
“Why would he do that?”
Baron’s jaw tightened, and he turned toward the window, staring out. “Because he enjoys the fact that I’m tasked with cleaning up his messes. In a way, he thinks he’s controlling me—if that makes sense. He thinks of me as my father’s lackey. Mark believes that the reason I want to please Father is so that he’ll leave his fortune to me, but that’s not what motivates me. I’m a Christian, and as such, I believe that I should do my best no matter what the task is. It pains me to say it, but Mark has no idea how satisfying it feels to do a good job and serve others.”
Baron was right about his brother, but at the moment, all she could think about was Mark’s return. All manner of thoughts raced through her mind. She should leave town right away, but she couldn’t. Not yet. Maybe if she stayed at the ranch, Mark wouldn’t know she was there. But people talked—and what if one of those women she had helped came in the store when he was here and asked
about her? What if Alma Lou returned looking for her when Mark was here? What if—Jo reined in her runaway thoughts and noticed Baron’s troubled expression. A bolt of compassion surged through her. “I’m sorry that Mark has caused so many problems that you’ve had to deal with.”
Baron shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
“I’m still sorry.” She’d been so adrift when Mark left her that she had never considered how his abandoning the store might affect his family. But it was her family she needed to think of now. She nibbled her lip, wondering if she should voice her thoughts. Talking things out often helped, but she wasn’t used to relying on others—and she didn’t want to sound like a frantic mother. Still … “I’m concerned that if Mark learns he has a son, he will decide to take him from me.”
Baron’s eyes widened for a moment. “I honestly don’t believe he would do that, but I know more than most what means my brother will go to in order to get what he wants. To be safe, you need to go back to your sister’s ranch and stay there. I’ll pay you for the days you were supposed to work, but I don’t want you here where anyone else can see you until Mark leaves town.”
“While I appreciate your generosity, I can’t accept it. But I do think it’s a wise thing to stay away from the store for the time being. The fewer people who question me about Mark, the fewer there will be to mention me to him.”
“I’ll do my best to get rid of him.”
“How? What will you say to him?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know yet, but I’ll think of something. He won’t want to hang around here unless he has a good reason.”
“What do you think he’ll do if he finds out about Jamie?”
Baron rubbed his hand over his clean-shaven jaw. “I don’t know for certain, but I imagine he will be enamored with him at first, but then as usual, he’ll probably run away from his responsibility.”
“That sounds like Mark.” And running away was exactly what he’d done when he learned she was carrying his child. That was better than what he’d done the first two times she’d told him she was pregnant. She tensed at the painful memories.
“Jo, look at me.”
She did as asked and was touched by the compassion in Baron’s eyes.
“I know how to deal with Mark. Trust me to take care of him and to protect you and Jamie.”
Tears blurred her eyes. No man other than her father and grandpa had protected her and asked nothing in return. But then, who was to say he wouldn’t ask something of her later? No, she didn’t want to believe that, but she’d been wrong before—with devastating results. She backed away, not wanting to think how protected she’d felt, if only for a moment. “Thank you. I suppose I should get back to work.”
“Why don’t you go home?”
She shook her head. “I can’t. I need the money too bad.”
“Might I ask why?”
She realized that she’d said too much. Of course he’d be curious. She scrambled for a response. “I … uh … can’t stay at Lara’s forever. She has a growing family and doesn’t need the three of us underfoot.”
“From what I’ve seen of your sister, I think she enjoys having you there.”
“Maybe so. But haven’t you ever heard the saying, ‘After three days, fish and family stink’?”
Baron chuckled. “Fish always stink.”
Jo smiled. “True, but they are fun to catch. Grandpa, Michael, and I used to fish the creek near our house in Caldwell.”
“That’s an interesting concept—a woman fishing. I’d like to see that sometime.”
Jo warmed under his stare then realized she was still gazing into his eyes and pushed her feet into motion. Mark’s brother was the last man on earth she should be exchanging glances with. She hid away in the supply room for the next hour, unpacking several crates of new supplies and listing them in the inventory ledger.
The front bell dinged, and she heard footsteps as more than one person entered. Jo stiffened.
“I’m tellin’ you, Hank, you really oughta consider riding in the land run. My cousin, Buster Holmes, got him a nice claim in the run last April.”
“I’ll think on it, but Bertha doesn’t wanna move again. She likes it here. And there’s no guarantee I’d win a claim.”
As Jo listed the last item, her pen paused. If not for the run of ’89, she probably never would have met Mark. She thought back to the day she’d first met him, back when she lived in Caldwell. He was handsome—enchanting—and he told her that her red dress looked good with her complexion. But then she had turned and looked him fully in the face, and when he saw her eyes, he changed his mind and stated that blue was her best color. She’d been young then and upset with her sister. And she’d just learned that Alma Lou was getting married and chose someone else to be her maid of honor. That both hurt and angered her. Mark had charmed her and made her forget her troubles for a time. Later, when she left her family and went to Guthrie, looking for work and a place to live, she’d run into him again in his store, which was housed in a tent at the time. She gladly accepted his job offer, and only a week later, they got married.
The snap of her pencil breaking jarred her from her thoughts. What a naive fool she’d been. Pushing the ledger aside, she reached for a lantern she’d just unpacked and a cloth she’d previously set on the desk. She wiped off the glass and base. The globe rattled as she set it on the base. Jo stared at her shaking hand. Mark had done this to her. Could Baron get rid of him as he vowed? Or would Mark discover she was nearby and force himself back into her life? Why did life have to be so uncertain?
Why couldn’t she have been more like Lara? More genteel and less stubborn? Quieter and happy rather than dissatisfied and adventurous? Why did she have to fall for two men who had charmed her, used her, and then battered her if she displeased them? Tears stung her eyes, igniting her ire. She batted at them. Tears never helped a thing, and she hated them.
“Jo?”
She jumped and turned away.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. “Just finished listing the new stock in the ledger.”
“Well, if you’re certain you’re fine, I’ll head back out front.” Baron stood there a moment then finally left.
Jo blew out a loud sigh. She probably would be better off if she went home, but she wasn’t a quitter.
Baron’s footsteps strode her way again.
Jo slid off the stool, swiped her damp lashes once more, and bent over a crate.
“I’ve been thinking of something. It’s not like Mark to let me know he’s coming. Normally, he just shows up. It’s got me wondering if he might be trying to trick me into thinking that he’s coming on the fourteenth.”
Curious, Jo straightened and turned to face him, hoping her nose wasn’t beet red. “Trick you?”
Baron nodded. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he arrives in town sooner than he indicated in the telegram.”
Jo’s heart jolted. “How much sooner?”
He shrugged. “I have no idea, but I don’t think you should come to work tomorrow—just in case.”
“You don’t think he’ll arrive today, do you?”
“Not if he comes by train, which is his normal mode of travel. There are no arrivals today, but there’s one due tomorrow.”
Jo squeezed her hands together, trying to decide what to do. The last thing she wanted, next to running into Badger, was encountering Mark again. Maybe she should return to Lara’s. But then, she couldn’t make the money she needed if she didn’t work. Lifting her chin, she looked Baron in the eye. “I’ll go ahead and finish out today.”
“If you’re sure.”
She nodded. “I am—although I may spend more time back here.”
“That’s a good idea. The storeroom could stand a good straightening and cleaning. I’ve been so focused on the front of the store that I’ve hardly done a thing back here.”
Jo smiled. “Thank you. You’re a kind man, Baron Hillborne.
”
He returned her smile as he stood a bit taller. “Thank you. Let me know if you need anything.”
“I will. And when no one’s in the store, I’ll probably set some things that need to be stocked on the end of the counter.”
“Sounds good. I think I’ll get one of the ten-pound bags of rice and resize it to one five-pound and the rest in single-pound bags. The ammunition case needs refilling, so you might check what we’re low on and pull out those boxes as you find them.”
“All right.” She watched him turn and disappear into the other room. He was a kind man—unlike anyone she’d met in a long while. The gentle way he spoke to her reminded her of Grandpa, not that their voices were the same, but the tone was similar. Too bad she hadn’t met Baron before Mark, but then she would have been far too young for the man. He must be at least ten years older than she.
She stamped her foot. What in the world was she thinking? She wasn’t interested in any man—especially Mark’s brother.
After the Sunday service, Jack sat on the front bench of the McGradys’ buggy, along with Phillip McGrady, while his wife sat in back with Nick and Lee, telling them a story about the first time she rode a horse. Jack glanced over his shoulder to check on the boys. Nick was actually smiling, and Lee had laid his head against the woman’s arm.
Jack turned around, feeling more at peace than he had since first meeting Mr. Beatty in Comstock’s General Store. He’d prayed last night and again this morning and truly believed the boys were meant to go with Phillip and Emily.
Jack pointed toward the street they approached. “Turn left up there, and then Cora’s house is the third on the left.”
“It was nice of your lady friend to invite us to dine with her.”
“She’s merely a friend, not”—he waved his hand in the air—“a lady friend.”
Phillip glanced at him. “Forgive me for saying this, Pastor, but I’m not sure she feels that way.”
Jack peeked at the boys again, glad they were fully engaged in Emily’s passionate tale. He leaned close to Phillip, keeping his voice low. “What do you mean?”
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