“Let’s go, Grant. You promised.” She shined those wide eyes on him, and he thought he saw tears getting set to fall. Well, he’d been a father to girls for a long, long time. A few tears didn’t matter a bit to him. Women went with waterworks just like a beaver and buckteeth.
“I can’t take you riding.” Grant choked on her name. The woman made him feel as awkward as an ox trying to sled down a hill on a toboggan, and there was no denying it.
He thought of Hannah at that moment. Of course he thought of Hannah most moments, so that came as no surprise. No ox on a toboggan with Hannah. He hadn’t put a foot wrong there when he’d kissed her. Except he shouldn’t have done it at all. But he’d never come within a mile of knocking her in the head. Probably a shame. A good head butt might have ended all of Grant’s troubles. But no, everything had gone just right. In fact, it was so right he’d. . .
“Hi, Harold.” Shirt Lady’s overly loud voice drew him back to the present. “Grant and I are going for a little ride.”
“No, I’m not!” Grant decided. Since the woman was determined to have her way, he’d have to be doubly determined to get rid of her. “If you’d have let me finish, I was trying to tell you I’ve got a problem out at the ranch and I can’t take time for a ride. Plus, I’ve got to get Charlie home. With Joshua hurt and. . . ”
“Joshua hurt?” She stopped her babbling to Harold and turned on him.
Grant got the impression that he’d said something important, but he couldn’t think what.
“Yes, with him hurt, I don’t like leaving the children alone.”
“I heard he died.” The little witch’s eyes narrowed into something that made a shiver run down Grant’s backbone.
“Where’d you hear that?”
A long silence stretched between them. Then, talking too fast, she said, “I heard he fell off. . . off. . . I mean I heard he fell. I heard it was a long fall, and I guess I assumed he’d died.”
Grant suddenly didn’t give two hoots and a holler whether he hurt Shirt Lady’s feelings. “You thought I’d have a son die and just go on as if it were nothing? I talked to you in town the day after it happened. You think I’d send the rest of the children to school the next day? You thought I’d agree to go riding with you a day after my son died?”
The longer he talked the more furious he got. It was all true. The woman really did believe all of that. “You didn’t notice in this little town that there wasn’t a funeral? Or what’d you think I’d do? Just toss him in a dirt hole and pay it no mind?”
The nasty hag’s face turned stony, and she didn’t answer his questions. Well, what she’d said before was all the answer he’d ever need. “Get down from the wagon. Now! I’ve got to get home. There’ll be no ride now. . . nor ever.”
Prudence held the spot and Grant crossed his arms. At last she moved, swinging down, slipping and tumbling toward the ground.
Instinctively, Grant moved to catch her.
She cried out in fear and pain. And instead of guilt or regret, all her caterwauling made Grant’s stomach turn to be this close to the battleaxe.
His children had been right. Of course, he’d already known it. He wanted to kick himself for thinking this was a good idea, all because he wanted to make sure Hannah didn’t have any crazy ideas about him just because. . . just because he. . . he had. . . crazy ideas about her.
Shirt Lady said in a tearful voice, her arms clinging around his neck, “Just help me inside. The ankle you hurt storming out of the school and colliding with me is acting up again.”
Grant practically lifted her off her feet in his hurry to get shed of the woman. “Fine.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you with my comment about Joshua. I just heard he had a terrible fall. I thought terrible meant that he’d died. I didn’t think about funerals and such. Please don’t be angry with me, Grant. Please!” Her voice rose to a screech and tears now flowed freely from her eyes.
“Okay, I misunderstood.” Grant didn’t think so, but he’d do about anything to get her to quit squalling. Anything but go on a ride with her. He hustled her the few steps to her door while she seemed determined to drag along like a freight wagon with the brake on. “But I’ve got children. And you don’t like children. That’s as clear as the Texas sky. That makes us a bad match, and there’s no point in wasting time denying it. We won’t be going on any rides, ever.” He swung her door inward and stepped back, letting loose of her waist.
She gasped in pain and caught at him. “Just please, get me to the chair.”
He let her grab his arm but kept it extended, holding his body well away from her. For some reason the woman had a knack for ending up hanging from his neck. Her clinging arms gave him chills. Like ice cold chains were wrapping around him.
Grant saw a straight-backed chair only a few feet into the murky store. How could the woman see to do any sewing? “Okay, but the door stays wide open.” He took a step in.
“Pa, you need any help?”
Grant turned and saw Charlie just a step behind him.
“Yeah, reckon I could use some help. She fell off the wagon and hurt her ankle and now she needs me to help her inside.”
“Miss Cartwright, could you help, too, please?” Charlie said, turning to look back.
Lifting his eyes, Grant looked over Charlie’s shoulder.
And there stood Hannah, her lips pursed, her arms crossed. Ready to start in nagging him, too, most likely.
Grant wished mightily for a chance to climb back up that mountain and tangle with cliffs and trees and a razor-sharp axe. His life made sense when he was doing things like that.
“I’ll be glad to help, Charlie.” Her eyes were as bright and burning hot as the blue at the heart of a flame. “What exactly is the problem, Prudence?”
“Uh. . . I. . . my ankle is. . . ” Shirt Lady straightened and took her arm off Grant’s neck, favoring her leg but standing well enough.
“I thought you were limping on your right leg when you first fell. Now it’s your left. Did you injure both of them then?” Hannah’s chin lifted, defiant and strong, but Grant saw the hurt in her eyes.
And why wouldn’t she be hurt? He’d kissed her twice now. The woman had a right to believe, if Grant was an honorable man, that he wouldn’t do such a thing unless he had feelings for her.
Grant let the child-hating Shirt Lady go to stand or fall on her own and had his hands full not reaching for Hannah and that pert chin and sassy. . .
“Good night, then, Grant.” Shirt Lady stepped back and closed the door with a hard snap.
“Pa, what were you doing with that mean old hag?” Charlie said it plenty loud for Shirt Lady to hear. Grant didn’t even consider shushing the boy. “Why, she told me after church the other day that I smelled like a—”
“I’ll see you tomorrow at school, Charlie.” Hannah spared Grant one last look, contempt laced with pain. Then she whirled away and headed for the diner straight across the street. Her ankles were working just fine. Why couldn’t Hannah ever collapse in his arms?
Unable to stop himself, Grant rushed after her. “Hannah, wait.” He caught her arm just as she stepped into the alley, where she’d go around to the back to climb the stairs.
She jerked free and turned on him. “Wait for what, Grant? For you to start yelling at me? Or maybe parade your girl around in front of me and the whole town? And would that be before or after you try and steal another kiss?”
“She’s not my girl. I just. . . I just wanted. . . you to know there wasn’t going to be anything between us. The woman’s been pestering me for a carriage ride and I thought. . . ” Grant’s voice faded away.
“You thought you’d make it clear that you were just dallying with me when you. . . when you. . . ” Her eyes brimmed with tears
Grant would have done anything to make it up to her. He could feel his control slipping. “Hannah?” He suddenly loomed over her. He hadn’t meant to get this close or be this angry or feel so out of control.
“What?” Those fire-blue eyes faded to warm instead of burning. Instead of hurt there was longing. He suspected she could see that longing reflected back at her in his speckled eyes.
“Get upstairs right now.”
“But I. . . ”
“Right now, Hannah, before I give you one more reason to hate me.”
The eyes held. The moment stretched.
Grant took rigid control of himself and waited and hoped she’d go away and stay away. He clenched his hands to keep from reaching for her. He clamped his teeth to keep from asking her to come see what he had planned for his house. He locked his neck to keep from lowering his mouth to hers. He prayed to God for the self-control not to break all of his promises.
Neither of them moved. It was as if a cord bound them and stretched taut between them. Suddenly the cord snapped. Hannah whirled and ran down the alley and around the corner.
Grant held himself still as he heard her door open then slam shut. “Good for you, Hannah.”
Then he turned to see Charlie sitting on the wagon seat with a weird, satisfied look on his face. He’d ridden a horse to school, and now it stood tethered to the back of the buckboard. Even the horse looked smug.
Feeling beset, Grant practically leapt into the wagon and headed his horses toward home.
Being a father was the only thing Grant had one bit of talent for. Although he was discovering he had a gift for making women cry. With a stifled groan, he knew the addition he had planned for his house wasn’t going to be enough.
He pulled his Stetson low on his brow. “How’d you like your own room, son?”
“You wrecked it! I remember the day all you had to do was smile at a man, but you’re getting old and tired and ugly.” Horace had followed her into the back part of the store.
Prudence kept her eyes on Horace’s fists and moved to the far side of the table in her back room. She was leery of him, but she was also thinking. “We’re not beat yet.”
“How’d’ya figure that?” Horace’s eyes, cold and watchful as a rattlesnake, could have cut her flesh.
“So he won’t come in here by himself. Not willingly. Well, we’ll just bring him here unwillingly. You’re out and about his place working.”
“Digging in that stinking black tar, filling buckets, breakin’ my back!” Horace picked up a chair in front of him and heaved it across the room, snapping its legs.
Prudence swallowed and talked fast. “You sneak out there next time, wait until all those brats leave for school, and you knock him senseless. Tie him up and hide him away, then keep him until dark and sneak him in here. We’ll keep him overnight. Maybe we can even force some liquor down his throat while he’s out. The next morning he’ll have to come out, and I’ll make sure there’s a lot of ruckus. I’ll stage a scene right in front of the whole town, crying and saying he promised to marry me, that he spent the night. He’ll be forced to marry me on the spot.”
Prudence went to close the door that separated the living quarters from the store. The heavily curtained front window had a slim opening, and through it she saw that snippy schoolteacher stalking away from Grant. Prudence knew human nature enough to recognize the light in Grant’s eyes as he watched her go. If Prudence didn’t move fast, she’d lose Grant to Hannah. She didn’t have much time to stake her claim.
Grant followed the schoolmarm into the alley, and they disappeared from sight.
Seeing the teacher reminded her of all the fuss Sour Springs was making over this stupid passion play at the school. Her mind, always sharp, focused on that now.
“Wait, I’ve got another idea, an idea that’ll catch him good, right in front of the whole town. We’ll try that before you dry gulch him and drag him in here. He’s a tough one. I can see it in his eyes. Catching him won’t be that easy. But he’s soft in the head on collecting children.” She leaned forward and outlined her plan.
Horace’s fists relaxed.
A floorboard creaked in the front of the building, and Prudence’s eyes went to the closed door. She swung a hand at Horace. “Someone’s out there. Get behind that curtain.”
Horace concealed himself quickly. The fat old coot could move fast enough when he was swinging a fist or hiding out. Too bad he was so slow with his digging. She wouldn’t have to put up with the nuisance of people wanting sewing done. She was sick of working for pennies.
She smoothed her skirt, plastered a smile on her face, and went out to the front. No one was there. She looked around the room then strode to the door. She pulled it open and noticed it squeaked. If someone had come in, she’d have heard for sure.
Shutting the door again, she scanned the room then shook her head as she studied every shadowy corner of her dumpy little business. Her eyes caught a crack of light coming from beneath the window that opened onto the alley between her store and the mercantile. She went to it and raised it a bit. She didn’t remember ever opening it, so why hadn’t it been closed?
Maybe Horace had wanted a breath of fresh air? And maybe if she asked him, he’d use those fists of his this time.
She slid the window open and closed and noticed it moved silently.
A rattle of a wagon drew her attention and she saw Grant drive away with that blond boy that had ruined her plans. She’d delight in seeing that child be sent down the road.
After they drove away, she stayed in the front, piddling with her fabric and a shirt she was overdue to deliver, giving Horace plenty of time to calm down.
TWENTY-FIVE
Grant got home to a warm supper and cold shoulders. The girls slapped food on like they were trying to give the table a good beating. Even Joshua, Charlie, and Benny were mad at him. Libby seemed a little huffy in her silent way, too.
Well fine! He’d managed to head-butt Shirt Lady. Hannah hated him. His children were furious. And he might as well admit he was good and sick of himself. He ought to form a club for people who hated him and charge membership. He’d be a wealthy man.
The only sound besides pottery on wood and the clink of silverware was chewing.
Grant wolfed down his food as fast as he could swallow to keep them from burning him to a cinder with their glaring eyes. He got done eating long before they did and practically ran out of the house toward the barn. Once there, he found the chores were done perfectly, and when he came out, he saw the young’uns had managed to get two rooms’ worth of logs stacked and ready for building while Grant had been in town making enemies. He grumbled over all the help. He’d intended for this job to take him years.
He stepped into the kitchen to overhear his children settled down to their dinners, speaking at last. “Miss Cartwright has the pageant planned for the Saturday night before Easter. We’ll have to drive into town at night.” Benny spoke around a mouthful of roast beef.
Grant resisted the urge to hammer his head good and hard on the door. If he could only get through one night without hearing Miss Cartwright this and Miss Cartwright that. He saw a look pass between Charlie and Sadie and decided Charlie had told what went on in town, and since his dealings with Shirt Lady had turned into a disaster, they seemed ready to talk to him again.
Sadie wiped Libby’s mouth with gentle hands and tucked the napkin more firmly under Libby’s dimpled chin. “I’ve been asking and asking for Miss Cartwright to come out after school or on a Saturday or Sunday to work on her sewing. She needs a lot more practice. But she is really busy with the pageant.”
Grant gripped the doorknob until it seemed likely to snap off.
“You’re doing a wonderful job as Mary,” Marilyn told Sadie as she served Benny more mashed potatoes. “There’s a little nativity scene included as part of the Easter story. Miss Cartwright calls it a passion play.”
“We’ve all been given really good parts, Pa.” Charlie sat next to Benny. Charlie’s shoulders were straighter, and he barely resembled the hostile, defiant boy who had moved in here such a short time ago.
“I get to sing a solo,” Sadie added.
Grant sighed as the children chattered happily. Libby still remained silent, but she smiled and had a good appetite. He heard Gladys Harrison’s name several times. It seemed that Hannah’s chief critic had become her right hand. Everything was going fine at school. More than fine. Fantastic.
Grant wanted to scream!
He had no excuse to take his family out, and that meant he had to listen to All-Hannah, All-the-Time. And that meant he could never forget about her or how much he wanted to spend more time with her. If he did, sure as shooting he’d end up kissing her. He’d already proved he wasn’t equal to the task of behaving himself in that area. And someone would catch them, and he’d end up married to her, which meant, in a world full of children, they’d add a few more.
Stirring restlessly, Grant forced his thoughts away from the stunning temptation of having children with Hannah and thought of all the unwanted children who needed him. He’d promised himself and God long ago that he’d devote his life to helping these lost little ones. He was not bringing more children into the world.
So that left marriage out. That left Hannah out. That left Grant with a lot of unruly thoughts and feelings that he had no idea what to do with. And that left him with some rooms to build.
“I know it’s late, but I think I can level the ground and lay the first few logs for the foundation of the new rooms while you young’uns are doing your studies.”
A mighty cold night, he’d rather be out building than listening to his children talk about Hannah.
“I don’t have any homework, Pa.” Joshua had always been an exceptional student. Right now, Grant wished the boy was dumb as a fencepost because he didn’t need this house addition to go up any faster.
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