Brides of Kansas

by Bateman, Tracey V. ;

  Anthony glanced through the open shutter at Tarah, who labored to clean up the filthy soddy. “How’s it going in there?”

  She looked up, a weary smile on her lips. “I should be finished sometime around Christmas, I figure.”

  “We’re just about finished with the outside,” he replied, chuckling at her remark. “Then we’ll all come inside and pitch in.”

  “I’d welcome your help.” Tarah planted her hands on her hips and scowled. “Honestly, Anthony. How can a man allow his home to become so filthy? I wouldn’t let my favorite pig live in this place.”

  “Jenkins must have been mighty miserable. I pray he finds the Lord, wherever he ends up.”

  The scowl left Tarah’s face, and she drew in a deep breath. “I suppose you’re right. I’ve been awfully hard on him. I just can’t seem to help myself. When I think of the treasure he possessed in those precious children, only to throw them away as if they meant nothing, it just makes me want to scream.” She waved to emphasize her words, and her hand knocked against the kettle warming on the stove. A look of pain flickered across her face. Instantly Anthony sprang from his place at the window and ran into the soddy.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She held on to her wrist and blew on an angry red mark already beginning to blister on the back of her hand. “I’m all right. This is my own fault for being so angry I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing.”

  “Here,” Anthony said, “let me see it.”

  Offering her hand with the trust of a child, Tarah drew in her bottom lip.

  “This is a pretty bad burn,” Anthony observed, inwardly berating himself for distracting her in the first place. “We’d better get you home so you can tend to it.”

  “Honestly, it’s just a silly little burn. I want to finish up here.”

  “No,” he said firmly. “I’m taking you home right now. The cleaning will keep until another day.”

  Tarah’s eyes grew stormy, and she narrowed her gaze. “What do you mean, no? If I want to stay and finish cleaning, I will.”

  In spite of himself, Anthony laughed outright. “Now you sound just like our little Laney. Who’s teaching whom?”

  A pretty blush rose to her cheeks, sending a rush of warmth to Anthony’s heart. He loved this woman so much it hurt. But the knowledge that he rated only friendship in her heart made his stomach clench so tightly at times, he could barely stand the ache.

  “Really, Anthony, it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

  “It is something to be concerned about. You can’t work in this filth with a blister on your hand. It could become infected.”

  Glaring at him, Tarah finally sighed in concession. “Oh all right, but I think you’re making a lot of noise over nothing.”

  “It isn’t nothing to me, Tarah,” he said. “I just don’t want to see you sick.”

  All the thunder left her face as she met his gaze.

  Still holding her hand, Anthony stepped closer. He brushed at a smudge on her cheek, marveling at the softness of her skin. “Tarah,” he whispered, darting a glance to her slightly parted lips. Anthony’s insides quivered as he drew her close. He longed to kiss away any thoughts of mere friendship from her mind and show her it was she, not Louisa Thomas, who held his heart. And heaven help him, he was getting ready to do just that.

  “Just kiss her, would ya? Ya know ya want to.”

  Tarah gasped at the sound of Laney’s voice and quickly moved away. “No one was going to kiss anyone. I—I just hurt my hand, and Anthony was looking at it for me, Laney.”

  “That ain’t the way it looked from where I’m standin’,” Laney said with a snort. “So are we gonna light up that pile of junk out there, or ain’t we, Preacher?”

  “Like Tarah said, she hurt herself. We’re going to take her home first. Then we’ll come back and light the fire.”

  “Ya really hurt yerself?” Laney frowned and strode to Tarah’s side. “Think we oughtta take her to the doc, Preacher?”

  A tender smile curved Tarah’s lips as she looked at Laney. “I’ll be all right, honey. I just need to put some butter on it for the pain. Reverend Greene is afraid I might get it dirty, and that could make me sick.”

  Laney turned on Anthony. “What’re ya doin’ just standin’ there? We gotta get Tarah home ‘fore she gets sick.” She hurried out the door. “Ben,” she bellowed. “We’re leavin’. Hurry up.”

  Shaking her head, Tarah gathered up her reticule. “I suppose I should be glad I have so many people to worry about me.”

  “People who love you,” Anthony corrected.

  Eyes wide, Tarah stared silently at him until he felt himself blush beneath her questioning gaze.

  He cleared his throat, ready to declare his love and take his chances.

  “What are ya waitin’ fer?” Laney stuck her head through the doorway, a scowl marring her features. “Do ya want Tarah to get sick?”

  Sighing in frustration, Anthony took Tarah by the elbow and steered her toward the door. “If we don’t get out to the wagon, that child is likely to try to carry you out there herself.”

  During the drive to the St. John ranch, Anthony watched for signs that Tarah had been moved as much as he during their closeness at the soddy. Disappointment crept through his gut as she talked and laughed with the children, looking as though the almost-kiss had never happened.

  In view of her apparent lack of emotion, Anthony felt relief that he hadn’t put his heart into her hands by telling her he loved her.

  Help me to accept this, Lord.

  If friendship was all this amazing woman had to offer, he would accept it, no matter how much it hurt. Her friendship was better than nothing at all.

  As the days grew shorter and the time grew closer for the school term to end, Tarah was filled with uncertainty. She had to give Mr. Halston an answer before Christmas so Starling’s town council would have time to secure another teacher should Tarah decide not to accept the position. The school term was to begin in February, he informed her, and the schoolhouse now sat completed at the edge of the small town.

  As the chilly autumn air gave way to a mid-November freeze, Tarah still hadn’t made a decision.

  Glancing out at her empty schoolroom, Tarah allowed her mind to imagine what it would be like to move away from home for a few months and teach a new group of students. Excitement warred with uncertainty, feelings all too common in the past few weeks.

  Try as she might, she couldn’t bring herself to heed Mrs. Simpson’s advice and allow Anthony to see how deeply she cared for him. Fear wrapped around her heart each time she considered the possibility. It was just no use. Besides, the only time she saw him anymore was after service on Sunday, and Louisa always claimed her place by his side, clinging to his arm with either a picnic lunch packed for the two of them or an invitation to her parents’ house for dinner. Tarah held her breath each Sunday morning, praying Anthony wouldn’t announce their betrothal from the pulpit. So far, he hadn’t. But Tarah feared the day was fast approaching.

  With a sigh, Tarah stood and began to tidy her small desk. Only two weeks remained in the school term. She had hoped by now that Anthony would have come to his senses like Mrs. Simpson believed he would. In her favorite daydream, she always penned a letter to Mr. Halston, thanking him for his patience but informing him she was to be married soon, so teaching in Starling was out of the question. So far, her dreams were only that: dreams. The wretched reality was that Anthony still seemed mesmerized by Louisa Thomas.

  Gloomily Tarah gathered her belongings and headed down the aisle, just as Ben and Laney burst through the door. Pale and visibly shaken, their breath came in short, quick bursts.

  A knot formed in Tarah’s stomach at the fear widening each pair of eyes. “What is it?”

  “W–we just seen Pa comin’ out of Tucker’s,” Ben said.

  Tarah gripped his shoulders and hurriedly scanned his face. “Ben, are you sure?”

  “It were him,
all right,” Laney said, her lower lip trembling. “I ain’t goin’ back, and ain’t nobody makin’ me do it.”

  Ben limped to the window and peeked out. “Tarah, he’s headin’ over here. He musta seen us.” Ben’s voice shook with fear as he turned from the window. “We gonna have to go back?”

  “I don’t know, Ben.” Helpless fury engulfed her at the thought of that man waltzing into town after weeks of abandonment and expecting to take the children back.

  Over the past few weeks, Laney and Ben had lost the haunted expressions in their eyes. Now the hopelessness had returned.

  “Well, you ain’t just gonna let ‘im take us back, are you, Tarah?” Laney’s voice reflected her challenge, but her eyes held pleading.

  Tarah lifted her chin, determination rising inside of her. “I’m going to do everything I can to keep him from it. You two go to the front of the room and stay by my desk while I speak with your pa.”

  Squaring her shoulders, Tarah moved toward the door, preparing for confrontation, praying for wisdom.

  “Be careful, Tarah,” Ben warned. “He can get downright mean if he’s been drinkin’.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” Tarah spoke with more confidence than she felt. Her insides quivered at the thought of confronting the man who had forced his children to live in squalor, practically starved them because of his laziness, and then abandoned them to the care of others. He was not worthy of his children, and she wouldn’t let them go without a fight.

  Oh, how she prayed God would make him see reason.

  She drew a steadying breath, gathering her courage as the door swung open and Mr. Jenkins appeared at the threshold. He stared at her through narrow black eyes. “I heared you got my young’uns.”

  “Th–they’ve been staying at the ranch during your absence, yes.”

  “Well, I come fer ‘em.”

  “I—I wanted to discuss that with you, Mr. Jenkins.” Tarah motioned to a nearby desk. “Would you care to sit?”

  “No, girlie, I don’t wanna sit. I want my young’uns.”

  “But they’ve been so happy with us. They’ve even come to school and made friends.” She looked into his unrelenting eyes and nearly sobbed. “Please let them stay.”

  He leaned toward her, his lips twisting into a sneer. Instinctively Tarah stepped back, despising her cowardice.

  “So ya don’ think I’m a fittin’ pa, eh?”

  “I didn’t say that, Mr. Jenkins. But I—I know how much trouble you’ve had caring for them.”

  At the angry flush appearing in his cheeks, Tarah wished she could snatch the words back. The first unwritten rule in trying to get a man to see reason was to never wound his pride. And she had done just that.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

  “Where are they?” he demanded.

  Couldn’t the man see past the end of his nose? With a frown, Tarah turned toward the desk. A wave of relief swept over her. Laney and Ben were nowhere to be seen. “Wh–why, I don’t know where they are,” Tarah replied truthfully, though she had a feeling the pair was hiding under her desk.

  “Well, I ain’t a-gonna try and find ‘em.” He squinted his beady eyes and wagged a filthy finger inches from Tarah’s nose. “Ya make sure them kids git their no-good hides to the soddy b’fore dark, or I’ll be a-goin’ to the sheriff.”

  He shuffled toward the door and slammed it shut behind him.

  Weak with relief that the man was too lazy to look in the most logical hiding place available to the children, Tarah sank down in the nearest desk and glanced toward the front of the room. “You can come out now. He’s gone.”

  The cloth covering her desk moved, and Laney and Ben crawled out.

  Laney hopped to her feet and ran down the aisle. She hurled herself into Tarah’s arms. “Don’t let ‘im take us back, Tarah. I promise I’ll do chores w’thout complainin’, and I won’t trip Luke no more just ‘cause he’s walkin’ by; and next time I pitch the baseball at recess, I won’t throw it at that Josie Raney on purpose and try and hit her. A–and I can even say them words to Jesus, like Preacher wants me to.” She gathered in a deep, shuddering breath. “I’d do anythin’ to stay with ya.”

  Hot tears burned Tarah’s eyes. She blinked them back and swallowed hard, holding Laney at arm’s length. The tear-streaked face stared back at her with more vulnerability than Tarah had ever seen in the child.

  “Let’s go home and talk to my pa,” she said when she recovered her voice. “If anyone can change your pa’s mind, it’ll be my pa.”

  “Do you really think he might wanna keep us, Tarah?” Ben’s face lit with hope. “It’s awfully crowded at yer place.”

  Tarah’s lips curved into a soft smile. “Of course he’ll want to keep you. You’re part of the family now. Aren’t you?”

  “We are?” The expression on Laney’s face mirrored her brother’s. A mixture of disbelief and hope.

  Gathering the child back into an embrace, Tarah brushed a gentle kiss on her head. “Of course you are.”

  “I—I love ya, Tarah.”

  “I love you, too, Laney.” She glanced up at Ben over the little girl’s head. “And you, too, Ben.”

  The boy’s face glowed, and he looked away quickly, dashing a tear from his cheek.

  Laney stepped out of Tarah’s arms, a frown creasing her brow. “Aw, he ain’t gonna give us up. Folks only give ‘im charity ‘cause of Ben and me.”

  Ben’s face clouded over at his sister’s words. “Laney’s right. He ain’t never gonna give us up. We’d better just git on home.”

  “But let’s at least give it a try. Maybe my pa can convince him.”

  Shaking his head, Ben steered Laney toward the door. “It ain’t no use.” He stopped before stepping outside and turned back to Tarah. “Ya been awful good to Laney and me,” he said. “Nicer than anyone I can ever r’member, ’ceptin’ our ma—but Laney don’t r’member her.”

  Tears flowed down Tarah’s cheeks at the hopelessness reflected in each face. “Can’t you just wait? I’m sure my pa—”

  “I figure it ain’t right to ask yer pa to do that. ‘Sides, don’t that Bible say, ‘Children, obey your parents…fer this is right’?”

  “Well, yes, but, Ben—”

  “Then this is the right thing fer us to do. It’s better iffen we just head on home. And, Tarah, I’m askin’ ya to promise me ya won’t ask yer pa to come to the soddy.”

  “But—” Tarah stopped at Ben’s pleading glance. She nodded. “I promise.”

  With his arm still firmly about Laney’s shoulders, Ben steered her out the door and limped away. Tarah watched as the two bravely headed through the freshly fallen snow in the direction of the soddy. When they were out of sight, she pressed her hands to her face and wept.

  The sound of thundering hooves accompanied the thud of Anthony’s ax as he brought it down hard, splitting a log in two.

  He straightened up and swiped an arm across his sweaty brow, glancing toward the cloud of dust headed in his direction. Recognizing Tarah, he dropped the ax and ran toward her, his heart hammering against his chest.

  Abby skidded to a halt a mere foot from him. One glance at Tarah’s tear-streaked face confirmed something was horribly wrong.

  She slid into his outstretched arms and clung to him, babbling nonsensical words that were muffled by his shoulder. Heart in his throat, Anthony held her, stroking her hair while she sobbed. When the tears were spent, she pulled away until he held her at arm’s length.

  “What is it?” he asked and fished a handkerchief—which he’d started carrying after the first time she’d wept in his arms—from his shirt pocket. He pressed the cloth into her hands.

  “Thank you,” she said, lips trembling.

  Anthony gathered her close to his side with one arm about her shoulders and steered her toward the house. When they reached the porch, he motioned for her to sit. She sank onto the step and twisted the handkerchief
in her hands until her knuckles grew white.

  Dropping next to her, Anthony waited while she drew a ragged breath, then spoke, her voice thick with tears. “Mr. Jenkins came back and took Ben and Laney away.”

  Dread engulfed Anthony. “When?”

  “Just after school today.”

  “I thought we’d seen the last of Jenkins.”

  “So did I,” Tarah replied glumly. She turned to him, her violet-colored eyes wide with fright. “What if he takes them away where we can’t look out for them?”

  “If the man has any sense at all, he won’t go anywhere with winter setting in.” Anthony wasn’t at all sure Jenkins had a lick of sense, but it was the least he could say to try to relieve Tarah’s fears. By the dubious expression on her face, Anthony knew she was thinking the same thing.

  “That’s not too reassuring, Anthony,” she said.

  “I know.”

  With a groan, she pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “What are we going to do?”

  Anthony felt his senses reeling at the lavender scent of her hair and the sweet warmth of her cheek through his shirt. He drew a breath and exhaled slowly, willing the moment to last forever. “Have you spoken with your pa yet?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

  He felt her shake her head. “Ben made me promise not to. I came straight here from school.”

  “Why would Ben make you promise such a thing?” Anthony asked, his heart soaring at the knowledge she had come to him for help.

  A shrug lifted her slim shoulders. “He doesn’t feel right putting Pa in that position. A–and he quoted the verse about children obeying their parents.” She raised her head and captured his gaze. “Honestly, Anthony. Sometimes I think Ben is the oldest person I know.”

  “I know exactly what you mean. That boy is special. I wouldn’t doubt it if he becomes a preacher someday.” He slapped his thigh in a moment of decision. “I’m going to go talk to Jenkins.”

  “Oh Anthony.” Tarah smiled through her tears. “I hoped you would.”

  He regarded her warmly. “All you had to do was ask. I told you once before I’d do anything for you.”

  Twin pink spots appeared on her cheeks, and she pulled away, ducking her head. “You’re a true friend. But this isn’t for me.” She stood and met his gaze, determination sparking in her eyes. “We have to do this for Ben and Laney.”