by Robin Deeter
Daphne jerked a little. “What did you just say?”
Holding her gaze, Brock said, “I said that I’ve fallen in love with you. Hell, I knew it after the day you kissed me. I’ve had my eye on you for a while and I couldn’t get you out of my mind. And after that, I couldn’t deny what I felt for you. During these past few weeks, it’s only gotten stronger. I thought it was time that you know how I feel.”
Daphne closed her eyes against the tears that burned her eyes, but a couple escaped them anyway. Brock took her face in his hands and wiped them away with his thumbs.
“Why are you crying?”
Opening her eyes, she said, “I’ve loved you for so long, but I gave up hope that I’d ever hear you say that to me. I feel like I’m dreaming and any minute, I’ll wake up and none of this will have been real.”
Guilt threaded its way through his body. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come to my senses, but it’s not a dream. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I love you, Daphne, and I’m not going to let anyone or anything come between us. Not your family or mine, either.”
He had to bite back the words that wanted to spill forth. It wasn’t the right time. The next moment, he was pleasantly distracted from his thoughts by Daphne’s kiss. It was sweet and filled with gentle fire. Lingering over her lips, he nibbled them before kissing his way along her jawline to her neck.
Daphne wound her arms around his neck and laid her head on his chest, listening to his slightly rapid heartbeat. “I love you.”
Brock tightened his arms around her, holding her closer. “I love you, too.”
They sat that way for a long time, just enjoying being close, and savoring the moment.
*****
Cotton stood outside Johnny’s bunkhouse, steadying himself for the coming conversation. Finally, he knocked.
Johnny looked up from the plans he’d been drawing. “C’mon in.”
Cotton smiled at him when he entered the dwelling. Although orderly, the place was more design shop than residence. In the small parlor area, a design table took up one whole corner by the fireplace. A tool bench stood in another corner and tools hung on the wall over it.
Johnny sat at the design table, working on something.
“Should you be doing that?” Cotton asked.
“I’m all right. I need to start moving around more and get my strength back. Besides, I’m bored just lying and sitting around,” he said.
Cotton nodded. “I have something for you.”
Johnny took the envelope Cotton held out to him, reading his name on it. He gave Cotton a curious look and then unfolded the paper inside.
Dear Johnny,
I know I should have come to see you, but I just couldn’t. It’s cowardly of me, but I feel so bad about what happened, and I’m so sorry about it all. It’s my fault. If you hadn’t been coming to pick me up, he wouldn’t have shot you.
Ma and I are moving to Nebraska to live with her cousin. I can’t stay in Chance City. Everyone knows about what happened and Ma and I would always be looked down on. We need to start our lives fresh some place where no one knows us. For what it’s worth, I really liked you and I was looking forward to seeing you.
You’re a good man and I hope you find someone who makes you happy. I hope you can understand why we have to do this and that you can forgive me someday.
Regretfully,
Dory
Johnny’s eyes were stormy with emotion as he raised them to meet Cotton’s gaze.
“They left three days ago,” Cotton said.
Johnny’s chest ached, but it had nothing to do with his injury. Anger and disappointment surged through him and he crushed the letter, flinging it across the room. He ignored the pain the movement caused.
Pounding a fist down on the design table, he said, “You shoulda told me right away, Cotton. I would have stopped them. I would’ve married Dory and taken care of her and her ma.”
“I’m sorry, Johnny. I didn’t know until I got the letter in the mail today. Yours was inside of it. Mine said that they left on Friday,” Cotton said.
Johnny nodded his understanding, unable to speak around the lump in his throat.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but Dory is right. You know how people are. They would’ve been judged by Maynard’s actions and he was their only source of income. I’m sad that they left, too, but I think they made the right decision,” Cotton said.
“You’re right. I don’t want to hear it. It’s easy for you to say that because you weren’t in love with them. People think I’m nuts, but I love Dory.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. Please just leave.”
Cotton understood his need to be alone and respected Johnny’s wishes. He walked home, his heart heavy with sadness for all involved in the situation.
*****
Daphne watched Johnny pick at his breakfast the next morning with concern.
“What’s wrong, Johnny? Is your pain worse again?” she asked.
He rubbed his chest a little. “Yeah, but it’s on the inside.”
“What do you mean?”
Letting out a sigh, he said, “Dory and Noreen moved to Nebraska to live with their cousin. She’s gone. They left last Friday.”
“Oh, Johnny, I’m so sorry.” Daphne laid a hand on his arm.
Leigh and Cy echoed her sentiments.
Johnny’s jaw worked as he tried to rein in his emotions. “None of you believed me, but I loved her.”
His grief was too much to contain. Dropping his fork onto his plate, he pulled his arm away from Daphne, and went out the kitchen door.
“Poor kid,” Cy said. “His first broken heart. The whole damn thing’s a shame.”
“I know it won’t be any comfort to him, but it’s better it happened now instead of later on when he was even more attached to her,” Leigh said. “That doesn’t help him right now, though.”
Daphne got up and put her coat on. She grabbed Johnny’s from its hook and left, heading for the barn where she’d seen Johnny go from out of one of the windows. She found him in the tack room. He sat in one of the chairs, just starting to clean a bridle. A couple of tears fell from his eyes and he wiped more away with his shirt sleeve.
He looked up as she came in and scowled at her.
“You forgot your coat. You’re going to catch your death being out here in the cold without it.”
He took it from her and put it on. “Thanks.”
“I know you’re hurting, Johnny, and I’m so sorry.”
Johnny tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “I should’ve gone to see her, even if I had to crawl to get there. I shouldn’t have let her get away.”
Daphne said, “There was no way for you to know that they were leaving and you were in no condition to go to their house.”
“Daphne, I know you mean well, but I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to be alone. Please?”
She kissed his cheek. “Ok, but you know that I’ll always listen to you and help however I can.”
He gave her a tiny smile. “I appreciate it.”
Relieved when she left, Johnny went back to cleaning the bridle, trying to put everything else out of his mind, but his heartache wouldn’t leave him alone.
Chapter Sixteen
On Thanksgiving, Daphne was so nervous about going to meet Brock’s family that she could hardly concentrate on cooking. However, she reprimanded herself and put her mind to her task again. Leigh was competent in the kitchen and helped with the meal preparations. Cy helped by putting in the extra leaves in the table and then making himself scarce since he would have only slowed them down if he’d tried to assist the women.
After a while, the Lone Wolfs showed up, bringing a couple of dishes with them. Bonnie pitched in as did Sly, who liked to cook. After suffering the loss of his secret girlfriend, Catherine Branson, in September, he’d been withdrawn and even quieter than usual. He was just getting to a point where he felt like socializing a little more.
David joined the other men in the parlor, sitting down by Cotton on the sofa.
Daniel lounged in one of the wingback chairs, a long leg thrown over the arm.
“Sit up straight,” David said. “What’s the matter with you?”
Daniel frowned but did as he was told. “Better? Why are you so cranky?”
Cotton said, “Maybe Bonnie hasn’t felt very frisky lately.”
David punched him in the leg. “She’s been plenty frisky.”
Groaning, Daniel said, “If you’re going to discuss that, I’m leaving.”
The rest of them laughed.
Daniel looked at Cy. “Did you name the cats yet?”
“Just the inside ones.”
“Well?” David asked.
Bashfully, Cy said, “The big one is Cuddles and the kitten is Buttons because she likes to play with buttons when Daphne’s sewing them on stuff. You have to watch her because she’ll steal them.”
Daniel said, “Look at him smile. For a cat-hater, he sure seems to like them.”
Cy gave him an annoyed look. “I like it that they helped with the mice, but that’s all.”
David grinned. “So who named them?”
Leigh came into the parlor. “He did. I heard him in here one night sayin’, ‘You’re so cuddly-wuddly, aren’t you? Your name is Cuddles.’ I couldn’t believe it, but that’s how it happened.”
Cy’s face turned pink as the room rocked with laughter, but he eventually joined in the fun. Then Leigh announced that dinner was ready and the men eagerly followed her to the kitchen.
Once they were all seated, Johnny said a nice blessing, even though it was short. He was doing his best to get through the day without being short tempered or wallowing. Sly wasn’t as angry, but he had trouble keeping his grief at bay. He and Catherine would have been celebrating their first Thanksgiving together.
Yanking his mind from those thoughts, he concentrated on the conversation that flowed around the table. He commented or asked questions here and there, but for the most part, he just absorbed what was said.
Cy looked at Daphne. “Where’s Brock?”
“I didn’t invite him,” she said.
“Why the heck not?”
“Because I was nervous enough about meeting his family without worrying about him being here with ours,” she replied. “Besides, he’s helping his mother cook.”
David said, “Daphne, don’t be afraid to invite him to things. If he’s respectful of us, we’ll be respectful in return. How will we get to know each other if we don’t socialize?”
Daniel snorted and Cotton cuffed him.
“Stop it right now,” he warned his nephew.
Bonnie and David nodded in agreement.
Cy smiled. “Yeah, Daniel. If I have to play nice, so do you. I have to admit that things are better between Brock and me. I doubt we’ll ever be best friends, but I’ll settle for mostly civil.”
Daniel made a face, but refrained from saying anything more on the subject. They heard a horse trot up to the house. Cy turned around and looked out the window.
“It’s Ray. Must’ve got kicked out of somewhere.”
Bonnie said, “I’m not surprised. They’re all getting tired of his lifestyle, according to his Aunt Charlotte.”
Johnny said, “He’s not as bad as everyone makes out. He might hop around from place to place, but he helps out wherever he goes. Watches kids, does chores, and when he has money, he gives people some for room and board.”
Bonnie said, “Oh, I didn’t know that.”
Leigh said, “Well, you know how it is. Sometimes it’s hard to get the full story from people.”
When Ray knocked, Cy told him to come in.
“Happy Thanksgiving, everyone,” he said, smiling.
After his greeting was returned, Daphne said, “There’s a stool in the pantry, Ray. Come have some dinner.”
Ray put a hand on his stomach. “Thanks, Daphne, but I’m stuffed from dinner at Uncle Boyd’s.”
Cy asked, “Did you get kicked out?”
Ray laughed. “No, I left of my own free will, believe it or not. Twenty kids in their small house isn’t my idea of fun. I can still hear their squealing.”
He went into the pantry and brought back the stool, sitting it by Bonnie. “Hi, Mrs. Lone Wolf. Aunt Charlotte said to tell you all Happy Thanksgiving if I saw you.”
“I’ll thank her when I see her on Saturday. We’re working on costume repairs for the Christmas pageant,” she said.
Ray rolled his eyes. “She’s worrying herself sick over it. I told her that she always does a great job with it, but it doesn’t make a difference. I even helped sew on buttons to give her a little free time the other day, but she just started sewing on something else.”
Bonnie gave him a surprised look. “You sew?”
“Mmm hmm. Sew, cook, clean—hell, I do so much of that stuff that I’ve been accused of being light in the loafers.” He shrugged. “I’m good at it and it’s actually relaxing. I can do field work, groom horses, brand cattle, all of that, but I don’t mind pitching in with other stuff, too.”
Johnny looked around the table with an I-told-you-so look.
“I don’t mean to be rude, Ray, but why don’t you stay in one place? Get a job and rent or buy somewhere to live?” Bonnie asked.
Ray shrugged. “That’s easy to answer. I got used to being passed around when I was growing up, and I prefer it now. Pa ran off and Ma was drunk so much that she couldn’t take care of me right. So, someone would take me for a while and then I’d go live with someone else. So forth and so on. When I need money, I do some odd jobs. I usually take part of that and play poker and make more money to last me a while.”
Cotton clenched his teeth together to keep from laughing. Ray’s idea of odd jobs differed greatly from what most people considered odd jobs, but he kept that information to himself. Not even Johnny was aware and Cotton wasn’t about to enlighten him. He almost lost the battle when Ray caught his eye across the table. He took a drink to break eye contact and keep his control intact.
“I had no idea that you possessed so many skills,” Bonnie remarked.
“A lot of people don’t,” Johnny said.
Cotton and Ray exchanged another glance and then Ray started teasing Cy about the cats, changing the subject. When the meal concluded, Johnny and Ray went to his bunkhouse while the women cleaned up from dinner.
Cy hitched up the buggy so he could drop Daphne over to Brock’s. The deputy would bring her home. As they rode, Daphne was glad that she’d already eaten because the closer they got to Brock’s, the worse her stomach ached.
Cy noticed her fidgeting with her coat and gloves. “It’s gonna be all right, Daphne. Brock will be with you and you know Aaron.”
“I know. I can’t avoid them forever. Things are serious between us and if things are going to work out, then we have to make people understand that we’re not going to let our families come between us,” Daphne said, giving him a pointed look.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’ve been cooperating,” Cy said. “As long as he treats you well and makes you happy, there won’t be an issue.”
She smiled at him. “Make sure it stays that way.”
He grinned. “I’ll do my best.”
*****
Brock had anxiously waited for Daphne to arrive, so as soon as he saw Cy drive up to their house with her, he rushed out to the buggy. He’d made his father promise to behave, telling him that they would leave the moment he acted up, even if it was during dinner.
“Hello, beautiful lady,” Brock said.
Daphne returned his smile as he helped her out of the buggy. She noted his nice suit. “Hello, yourself. You’re looking quite spiffy.”
“Thanks. Ma makes us dress for dinner. Happy Thanksgiving, Cy,” Brock said.
“Same to you. I drove her over so that you didn’t get another lecture from Johnny,” Cy said.
Brock chuckled. “Thank
s. How’s he doing?”
“Well, I think his heart will take longer to heal than his body,” Cy said.
“I think that’s true in a lot of cases. Tell everyone I wished them a happy holiday. Let’s get in out of the cold, honey,” Brock said.
“Have a nice dinner,” Cy said before clicking to the horse.
He watched the couple walk up on Brock’s porch, noting that the deputy had his arm around his sister. Sighing, he hoped that her dinner with Brock’s family went well. As he drove away, he knew that he’d be anxious until she came home and he knew that she was all right.
*****
Daphne laughed so hard that she snorted as Brock’s sister, Nora, related a tale about how Brock had gotten so much honey in his hair one summer that their mother had had to shave his head.
Amelia said, “And it was such slow going because I couldn’t cut it. It kept making the scissor blades stick together. I finally gave up and shaved it.”
Brock said, “But I was the most handsome eight-year-old boy with a shaved head this world has ever seen. Right, Ma?”
“Well, I had to tell you something to make you feel better after you cried for a good hour—”
“So, did I tell you that Cy named their new cats?” Brock asked loudly to drown out his mother.
He laughed as much as the others, though, seeming not to mind being the butt of a joke.
“What did he name them?” Doug asked. He loved cats as much as Cy loved dogs.
Brock smiled. “The mama cat he named Cuddles and he named the kitten Buttons.”
Doug nodded approvingly. “Cute. Good names. Brock says that your dogs like the cats, Daphne.”
She giggled. “Like might not be quite accurate. Pudge and Queenie love them, Burt hates them, and Slink is scared to death of Buttons, but he likes Cuddles.”
Doug laughed. “Sounds about right. Cats can be intimidating to dogs, but that’s only because they’re smarter.”