“Yes, sir.”
Something in the boy’s tone caught at Jarrod. He looked at Tom staring at Abby, and saw his fear.
Jarrod dropped the cloth into the basin and said, “Come here, son.” He opened his arms.
Like a shot, Tom was in Jarrod’s embrace and buried his face in Jarrod’s neck. His whole body shook.
“You’re worried about Abby, aren’t you, Tom?” he asked gently. He felt the boy nod. “You care about her a lot more than you let on.”
Tom lifted his tear-streaked face. “I do care. I like her a lot, right from the start I did. But I was afraid—” He rubbed a knuckle beneath his runny nose. Then his gray eyes took on a haunted, frightened look. “Is she gonna die? Mama got sick and the doc couldn’t help her. She died. Is Abby gonna die like Mama?”
Oh, Lord. What could he tell this poor boy to take away his agony? Abby would know what to say. She always did. But Abby was too sick right now, and he didn’t know if she would get well.
Jarrod swallowed hard. “I don’t know, Tom.”
The boy didn’t meet his eyes. “I never cried for Mama, not even once. I never did ’Cuz then it would be real. Do you think Mama was mad that I didn’t cry for her?”
“No. Your mother understood. She wouldn’t want you to be sad. She’d want you to grow into a good, kind man.”
He hung his head. “Haven’t been very good to Abby. What if I never get to say I’m sorry? I am, Uncle Jarrod. Real sorry for all the mean things I said to her.”
“You’ll get a chance,” Jarrod said, with more certainty than he felt.
“You think so?” Tom said hopefully.
Jarrod searched for words to help Tom, no matter what the Lord had in mind for Abby. “Son, I’m doing my best to keep her with us. But if it doesn’t work out that way, we have to be thankful that we had her for the time we did.”
“She was always nice to me. Even when I wasn’t so—”
Jarrod squeezed his shoulder. “She knows you’ve been through a lot with your ma.”
Tom brushed his tears away. “Oliver got better.”
“Yup. No reason Abby can’t too.” Jarrod drew in a deep breath, steadying his voice. “But it wouldn’t hurt if you did a little praying.”
He nodded. “Abby taught us one. Well, she learned everyone else, but I was bein’ a knothead. I listened, though. When she wasn’t lookin’. I learned the prayer.”
“That’s fine, Tom.” Jarrod was so tired his whole body hurt, right down to the roots of his hair. “I’m going to get a cup of coffee. Would you stay here with Abby?”
“Yes, sir.”
Jarrod stood up. “I won’t be long. If anything happens, anything at all, you hightail it straight to me. You understand?”
Tom nodded.
In the doorway, Jarrod glanced back. Tom was on his knees beside the bed, hands clasped, head bowed. “Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep….”
Must have been lack of sleep, Jarrod decided, that caused everything to waver in front of his eyes.
Jarrod lifted his head from his arms and looked around groggily, wondering where he was. In front of him was a mug of coffee, cold now. It took a few seconds, but finally his head cleared and he remembered. He had put his head down on the kitchen table, just for a few minutes, while Tom stayed with Abby.
He stood up so quickly the chair toppled backward. He ran upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time, stopping outside the bedroom door to catch his breath. He heard someone talking.
“You look fine, Abby.” That was Tom.
For a second he’d thought he had heard Abby’s clear voice, but was afraid to believe it. For three days, she hadn’t done more than mutter incoherently. Jarrod slipped into the room and saw the boy sitting on the bed talking to her.
“Ya gotta get better soon, Abby. We got lots to tell you. Joe Schafer took your job at Hollister Freight. You should see Lily lookin’ through all them catalogs to order stuff so’s he’ll deliver it. Katie’s wakin’ up at night again. Lily and me take turns ’Cuz Uncle Jarrod’s takin’ care of you. Oliver’s not havin’ accidents no more, but he’s taken to stickin’ that thumb in his mouth again.” Tom plucked at the sheet as he stopped for breath. “So you see, Abby, ya gotta get better. Even if ya decided to go to find your pa, maybe you’ll decide to come back. We love you, Abby.”
Jarrod moved into the room and Tom looked up at him. “Was it all right I told her that?”
“Yup. Just fine.”
“Jarrod?” The voice was hoarse, but it was Abby’s.
His gaze shot to her face. Her eyes were open. “Abby?”
“What happened to me?”
This was the first time she had looked at him lucidly. He felt her forehead. It was blessedly cool. “You have chicken pox. The doc said you—”
“The doctor was here?” she asked. Her voice was weak, but Jarrod heard the astonishment.
She was going to be all right. Leaning back as he stared heavenward, Jarrod took a deep, shuddering breath. “Thank you, Lord. I owe you.”
Jarrod stood beside Tom. “How do you feel, Abby?” the boy asked.
“Like I’ve been run over by a wagon,” she said, rubbing her forehead.
Jarrod looked at Tom. “Why don’t you find your brother and sisters and tell them the good news?”
He glanced at Abby, reluctant to leave her.
“Your uncle’s right, Tom. The others will want to know I’m feeling better.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Take care of her, Uncle Jarrod.”
“Count on it.”
Then the boy was gone.
Abby struggled to sit up. Jarrod moved to help her, and the sheet fell away, exposing her nakedness. She quickly covered herself.
“I had to,” Jarrod said. “It was the only way I knew to keep the fever down.” He pulled her cotton nightgown from the dresser and handed it to her. Then he turned away as she slipped it over her head.
“How long was I sick?”
“You don’t remember anything?”
“Not much. You can turn around now,” she said, leaning back against the pillows. “The last thing I recall was making breakfast. Rafe Donovan left that morning. My head hurt and I was so cold my teeth chattered.”
“You didn’t know the children were in and out?” She shook her head. He pointed to a vase of wilting wildflowers that Katie had brought. Pencil drawings that she recognized as Oliver’s were tacked up on the wall opposite the bed. A big sign beneath it in Lily’s handwriting said, Get well, Abby.
“The next thing I remember was hearing Tom’s voice. He said, ‘We love you.’” That puzzled her.
“Tom carried water up and down the stairs for three days.” He smiled at her shocked expression. “Yes, Tom. When he met you, he had just lost his mother and never grieved for her, he finally admitted. He was afraid to care about anyone because it hurt too much when they were gone. He’s always liked you, Abby.”
“I’m glad.”
Jarrod sat on the bed beside her. His muscled thigh brushed hers and a spark of awareness charged through her. “How do you feel?”
She thought for a minute. “Much better. I’m hungry.”
He laughed. He threw his head back and kept laughing until he had to wipe the tears from his eyes.
“Are you all right, Jarrod?” What she’d said wasn’t that funny.
“It’s just so good to see you”—he stopped as if searching for the right word—”normal.”
She gingerly touched her cheeks and felt the bumps and scabs. She recalled the redness and scabs Oliver had suffered when he was recovering. It was dreadful. “You call this normal? I must look a sight.” She started to hide her face in her hands.
Jarrod took them in his own. “You’re beautiful, Abby.”
Three days later Abby felt so much better, she dressed and went downstairs for breakfast. Jarrod had already fed the children. They were cleaning up when she walked into the room.
He ran over and hugged her around the legs.
Katie ran to her, but there was a serious expression on her face as she looked up. “Are you all right enough to get out of bed? You were awful sick and Uncle Jarrod said it would take time for you to feel better and we musn’t disturb you. So are you better enough that we can disturb you now?”
Abby smiled and tucked a blond curl behind Katie’s ear. “I’m almost back to normal, and you never disturb me.”
The little girl jumped up and down. “I knew it! She’s all better, Uncle Jarrod.”
Jarrod stood at the washbasin, his long sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing strong, tanned forearms. He grinned at her. “That’s a relief. It would be easier to hold back an overflowing river than the likes of this group.” Wiping his hands, he said, “Have a seat and I’ll rustle up some flapjacks for you.”
“They’re real good,” Katie said.
“Uncle Jarrod’s a good cook,” Oliver added.
“Your uncle is a man of many talents,” Abby said. Then her gaze locked with Jarrod’s and she knew he was thinking about abilities other than cooking. Heat warmed her neck and cheeks.
Quickly, Abby took the chair at the table beside Tom. He smiled at her shyly.
“So, how’s your horse?” she asked, making conversation to cover the awkwardness.
“She’s fine,” the boy answered.
“Have you found a name for her yet?”
“No’m.”
The back door burst open and Lily raced inside, hair windblown from running, eyes sparkling. “Joe’s here, Uncle Jarrod. He brought that saddle you ordered for Tom.”
“Tell Gib,” he said. “He’ll know what to do with it.” The girl nodded, then stopped at the door. “Mornin’, Abby. Glad to see you up.”
Before Abby could answer, Lily was gone.
“Funny,” Tom said. “We were just talking about my horse. Can I go see the saddle, Uncle Jarrod?”
“Me too!” Katie and Oliver said together.
“Sure, you go on.” Just before Tom closed the door, Jarrod called out, “Tell Joe to see me before he leaves so I can pay him.”
“Yes, sir.”
“So, Joe took my old job,” Abby said. “I vaguely remember Tom telling me that.”
“Yup, Gib told me he was here a couple weeks ago with—”
Jarrod looked at her for a long moment, his expression sad.
“What is it, Jarrod? You look funny, like you lost your best friend.”
“Just before you got sick, Gib told me there was a letter for you.”
“From my father?” she asked. Excitement chased away her irritation that he’d forgotten about it. She so loved hearing from her father.
“Before I give it to you,” Jarrod said, his voice sounding strange, “there’s something I need to explain.” He drew in a deep breath as he crossed the room and set the hand towel on the back of a chair. “When we were in town on the Fourth of July, I sent a wire to Luke Brody, a friend of mine in San Francisco. I asked him to see what he could find out about your father.”
“The letter’s from him?”
Jarrod nodded. “It’s from your father, and Luke sent it along. I’ll get it.”
Anticipation bubbled inside Abby. Maybe her dream was just about to come true. Jarrod returned with the letter and handed it to her.
With trembling hands, she tore it open and read.
Dear Abby,
I’m afraid in trying not to hurt you, I’ve done you a terrible disservice. You cried so when I told you I was leaving, it broke my heart. God help me, I had to go. But I led you on in believing I planned to come back. The truth is, I remarried. I have a little girl. Emma is nine years old. They don’t know about you and Clint and your mother. I tried to love your ma, for your sake, and your brother’s. But I couldn’t. She deserved a better man than me. I left for both of us.
I’m begging you, Abby, don’t try to find me. It could destroy my family and I can’t risk that. For the first time in my life, I’m really and truly happy.
I do love you, Abby. Believe that. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m certain you can’t forgive me so I won’t even ask. I wish you the same happiness that I’ve found.
Love,
Father
The information stunned her, and she had to read it three times before the words made sense.
“What’s wrong, Abby? You’re white as a sheet. Are you sick again?”
She handed him the letter. “My father doesn’t want me to see him, let alone live with him.”
Jarrod scanned the page. “He has a family.”
She nodded numbly. “They don’t know about Clint and me. My brother was right all along. He said if Sam had cared about us, he would have stayed. My father doesn’t want me to jeopardize his new life.”
“I don’t know what to say, Abby. I’m sorry—”
“It’s not your fault. He didn’t love my mother. He left because he wasn’t happy. But he is now.”
“He loves you, Abby. He’s stayed in touch all these years because he cares about you.”
All these years. She had waited, and worked, and prayed that she could reunite her family. But he had made another home and another family. Bitterness welled up inside her. If only he had told her. For years, he’d let her believe her fantasy because he didn’t have the guts to tell her he didn’t care.
She shook her head. “He doesn’t love me. It was guilt, pure and simple. And it was cruel and heartless. I’ve been planning and hoping and dreaming all these years. For nothing.”
“I shouldn’t have meddled. I’m sorry—”
She stood up. “Don’t be. I’m glad you found him for me. Why should I waste any more time on him?”
“That means you’re going to respect his wishes?”
“Yes. His daughter—my half sister—is younger than I was when he left. I won’t hurt her the way I—” Her voice caught and she bit her lip.
Jarrod pulled her into his arms. The last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of him, but she couldn’t stop the tears. Maybe it was all that had happened in so short a time, or maybe the toll her illness had taken on her. She hid her face against his chest and cried her heart out. A small corner of her mind was grateful for his strength, the haven he provided. The comfort was too wonderful to ignore.
She needed him. It frightened her how much.
“It’s going to be all right, Abby,” he crooned. He held her tight and rubbed her back as sobs wracked her. He talked, but most of the words didn’t penetrate the blackness of her shattered dreams.
As evening approached, Jarrod found Abby at the waterfall. It pleased him that she sought comfort in the place he and Sally always had. Abby looked up when the sound of his boots on the rocks caught her attention.
“If you want me to go, I will,” he said. “But I’ve left you alone all day and I thought maybe you were ready to talk now.”
“I’m not very good company, Jarrod.”
“I didn’t come here to be entertained.”
She smiled. “That’s good.”
“Have you come to any conclusions?”
“Yes. I’m a fool,” she said grimly.
“Abby, don’t—”
“What?” she asked. “Say the truth? Why not? It wouldn’t be anything everyone else doesn’t already know. He didn’t leave to find work. He left because he didn’t want us, mother and Clint and me. Everyone tried to tell me, including you. I wanted to believe his story about making us a better life. But the truth is: a man doesn’t walk out on his family.”
“I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”
She shook her head. “Look at you. Four children came into your life out of the blue. Did you walk away from them?”
“No. But that was thanks to you. If you hadn’t made me see that they needed guidance and caring, I might have. Your father’s a weak man. His daughter is a strong, wonderfu
l woman, in spite of what he did. Maybe because of it. The important thing is getting on with life.”
She sighed. “I’ve put mine on hold for years.”
“It’s your time, Abby. What are you going to do with it?” he asked.
He held his breath, hoping for a sign of how she felt.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “It’s as if I don’t know who I am anymore.”
“You’re my wife, Abby.”
“Don’t be offended, but—I forgot.” She shook her head.
“Nothing has gone as we planned, has it?”
“No.”
“You didn’t want to get married any more than I did, and here we are. Married, and we didn’t even need to be. Donovan dropped his claim to the children, I have no reason to look for my father—We can have it annulled as soon as possible.”
That wasn’t exactly the sign he was hoping for. He hoped this was only her bitterness talking. She was wrong; he hadn’t wanted to be married at first. But he did now.
“What will you do if we get the annulment?” he asked.
“I’ll go back to Hollister. Find a job. Seems mine’s been taken. Henrietta may have work for me. There’s always chores to do in the Watering Hole—” She stopped and looked at him thoughtfully. “What do you mean ‘if’ we get the annulment?”
“Stay here.”
She looked at him, her blue eyes wide. “What?”
“You just said there’s no reason to leave. Your job’s been taken. Stay here.”
She stood up and her stubborn little chin rose a notch. “I don’t need your charity, Jarrod Blackstone.”
“It’s not charity.”
“I don’t need your pity either,” she snapped.
“You’re the last person in the world I’d pity.” Jarrod took a deep breath. “I want you to stay and be my wife.”
“Your wife? You mean—your wife?”
He nodded. “And a mother to the children. We all need you, Abby.”
“Aha.” Her eyes narrowed. “You still need help looking after the children. If I stay as your wife, you don’t have to pay me to be the housekeeper.”
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