by Linda Ford
Walker realized what he’d said. “Maybe it was only that I missed our ranch.”
Stella gave him a grateful look.
Pa seemed weary and ate slowly.
Ma watched him carefully as did Josie. Before Pa finished his meal, Ma took the fork from his hand. “I think it’s time for us to retire,” she said.
When Pa didn’t argue, Josie’s concern shot up. She waited until her parents had gone to their room and closed the door to lean across the table and quietly address both Stella and Walker. “Shouldn’t he be feeling better by now?”
Stella shrugged. “I ask the same question of myself. Seems the body sets its own schedule.”
Josie shifted her gaze to Walker.
“Perhaps he just overdid it today.”
She hoped he was right. The meal over, she hurriedly cleaned the kitchen while Walker went out to tend the horse, Donny at his side, talking nonstop.
Stella sighed. “That boy wears me out.”
Blossom sat at the table turning the pages of a picture book.
“At least she’s quieter.” Stella sat by the cupboard and dried dishes.
“We have to make some more handbills,” Josie said. “But we’ll keep Donny with us.”
“You’re sure he won’t get in the way?”
“I think we can handle him.”
“Thank you.”
As soon as the dishes were finished, Stella wearily made her way to her room, Blossom clinging to her hand. Josie looked around the kitchen. It was early. She had the entire evening to finish the handbills. It would have been a lonely task to do on her own.
Walker came through the door.
Thankfully, she didn’t have to do it alone.
Perhaps her smile of welcome said more than she meant it to, because Walker ground to a halt, stared at her, and then grinned widely and said, “Seems you’re eager to get those things done.”
“I am.” And it was the only reason for the lightness of her fickle heart. “Donny, you can come with us.”
The boy raced ahead.
Josie found a basket holding a Noah’s Ark and an assortment of animals and put it by the table. Donny sat on the floor and began to play.
They worked diligently. Walker stretched often and rubbed his neck. Her neck began to ache too.
Josie glanced at the clock on the desk. “Donny, it’s time for you to go to bed.”
The boy put the animals and the ark away and slipped from the room.
Walker didn’t suggest stopping, and neither did Josie. “We can deliver these tomorrow morning if we’re done.”
“My thoughts too.” They both reached for a new piece of paper. Their hands collided, and she jerked back, giving a nervous laugh.
His eyebrows rose toward his hairline, and she knew he wondered at her strange behavior.
No more so than she did.
To cover up her nervousness, she began to talk. “I consider you fortunate to have been able to attend school.”
“Didn’t you?”
“When I joined the Kinsley family, I could neither read nor write. I’d never attended school. We moved around too much.” She couldn’t tell him how often she had been whisked from bed in the middle of the night as they made their escape.
“I see that changed.” He jabbed his pen toward the printing she labored over.
“Ma taught me. She said there was no point in me attending classes. They would put me with the little kids, and she didn’t consider that appropriate. I struggled to read at first, but once the letters made sense, Ma said there was no slowing me down. And I discovered I loved putting letters on paper and seeing words grow.”
Walker continued to work as he spoke. “I didn’t mind learning. Like I said, I think half my objection to school was I saw it as somehow connected to losing the ranch.”
“Donny might feel that way too.” She told him of the many times the boy said he wanted to go back to their farm.
“Then for his sake, I hope it happens.”
“Me too.” Josie smiled at him as they shared a wish for the child. “Stella would like to return, but she simply isn’t well enough yet.”
“She’s fortunate to end up with the Kinsleys.”
Josie nodded. “I agree. So am I. When I think—” She didn’t finish. Couldn’t bear to think what her life would have become if she’d stayed with her uncle. She grew thoughtful as she remembered some early memories. “One of the happiest days of my life was an Easter morning. I had been with the Kinsleys two or three months and no longer feared that Uncle would come for me. We were all given new dresses to wear to church. Mine was a blue cotton with ruffles around the sleeves and the collar.” She chuckled.
“I imagine it was pretty plain, but it was the nicest dress I could remember having. I helped Ma stitch it together, and it was my pride and joy.”
She leaned back, her task momentarily forgotten. “Each of us girls wore a dress we had helped sew. I thought we looked really fine. My uncle had always cut my hair because he said it was easier to tend, but it had grown out and hung to my shoulders. It was fixed back with combs. I remember the bubbling joy inside me that was quite the opposite of the fear I’d known most of my life. It was a day that I saw only the future with a family who loved me and cared for me. They gave me meals and a warm bed and so much more. Pa preached a sermon about Christ’s resurrection and reminded us that because He lives, we can face whatever lies before us. That day I decided I would look forward, not back. I would no longer fear my uncle. I would take advantage of every opportunity that came my way to create a life that provided me with security. Most of all, I would never forget the kindness shown to me by Ma and Pa Kinsley.” She realized how long she’d been talking and how much she had revealed. Above all, she realized that she had made little progress in looking only to the future. The past still held her.
Walker’s hands had grown still, and he studied her. His gaze sought her hidden secrets, and she almost let them flow out.
“What were you afraid of?” he asked, his voice so low it was like the purr of a cat and, just like a friendly cat, it asked for more. “Did your uncle hurt you?”
“He didn’t beat me, if that’s what you mean.”
He waited.
She couldn’t tear her gaze from his. How often she had yearned to spill the secrets of her heart. She drew in air until her lungs could hold no more.
Some secrets could not be shared. Why was she having to remind herself of that so often these last few days?
“He lived a wandering way of life. I never knew if I would go to sleep in the same bed I woke up in or if we would move.” Let Walker think that was all there was to it. She returned to penning the letters.
“That’s sad.”
The evening shadows filled the room, and Walker lit a lamp and set it between them.
Ma stepped into the room, wearing a robe. “I saw a light on. How much longer will you work?”
Josie eyed the growing pile of handbills. “We need to deliver these around town tomorrow. And we haven’t made the posters yet.”
“Very well. But don’t forget you need your sleep.” Ma hesitated, perhaps wondering if she should remain in the room and chaperone. “I’ll leave my bedroom door open.” Her warning was loud and clear. She’d be listening for any inappropriate activity.
“We’ll be fine, Ma. Don’t worry about us.” All she had in mind was finishing up this task.
There could be nothing more, even if her heart ached for it.
Chapter 10
Walker heard Mrs. Kinsley’s gentle warning. Just as he saw Josie’s hard resistance to his questions. Yet he had detected something more in Josie’s eyes when she talked about feeling safe with the Kinsleys and being afraid with her uncle. He understood how losing a home could do that to a person, but he knew from the way her eyes darted away from his as she spoke that there was more to it than that. Her voice was firm when she said her uncle hadn’t beaten her. He was not ignorant about the ma
ny other ways a man could hurt a child, and he shuddered.
As if sensing how his thoughts circled around her words, Josie began to speak. “I was fortunate that I didn’t have to go to school with the other girls. Ma spent more time with me and taught me to sew. I loved creating pretty garments. I still do. I’m going to take in more orders and make enough to buy a sewing machine. Then I’m going to buy a little shop and have my own business. I’ll live in the back of the shop. It will be my home.” Her voice carried a note of determination as she spoke of her dream.
“You have a name for this business?”
She flashed him a look that was half embarrassed, half proud. “Josie’s Creations.”
“Sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“For about the last five years. When we moved here, I knew it would take more work to get enough customers. Not like back in Ohio, where there were lots of people and lots of fancily dressed women.” She sighed. “Do you think the ranchers to the west will learn of the rodeo and come?”
“If they hear about it, I expect they will. All cowboys like to show off their skills. Why? You thinking of sewing fancy shirts for them?”
She stared. “I never thought of it, but there’s no reason I couldn’t. If I’d thought of it sooner, I could have one sewn.”
“You still have a couple of weeks.”
“True.” Another frustrated sigh. “What I had in mind was perhaps the ranchers would bring their wives and daughters, and I’d get some orders.”
“Sounds like a feasible plan.” He counted the handbills. “A hundred. That should be enough to divide up for the three businesses.”
“Now for posters. What shall we do?”
They discussed ideas, and she began to pencil out a rough sketch. They hunkered over it, both making suggestions until they were satisfied.
“We’ll need at least three,” she said.
“Why don’t you outline them, and I’ll fill them in?”
“Good idea. We have colored pencils that will make it brighter.” She got them from the desk. As she drew out the first poster, he bundled the handbills into three piles and tied each with a length of string.
He pulled his chair around to sit beside her as she finished the first poster, and then he carefully colored it. Several times he sat back to study his work.
She looked over at his work. “It’s going to look very nice.” She rubbed her neck and rolled her head. “My goodness. Look at the time.”
He glanced at the clock. “Almost midnight. Do you want to stop?”
“No. We need to finish. But there’s no need for you to stay.”
“More hands, less work. I’ll stay.” But he would work faster even if it wasn’t as good as he’d like. He finished the first poster and took the second from her. She drew the third one and began to color it.
Half an hour later, they finished.
He rose and stretched. There was no need to linger and lots of reasons to leave immediately, not the least of which was they were both tired. “Good night,” he said, and strode from the room. He passed her parents’ bedroom. The door was still open.
“Good night, Walker.” Mrs. Kinsley’s voice was low.
Had she lain awake all this time in order to protect her daughter’s honor? Walker smiled. Both at how protective they were and how unnecessary it was. Most times Josie wore invisible armor that warned away unwanted advances. But on rare occasions, he thought he detected a crack in that armor. Calling a quiet good night, he went to the door.
“Good night, Ma,” Josie called, and headed for the stairs.
It had been a long evening. Before they knew it, morning would dawn.
The next morning, as soon as breakfast was over, Walker and Josie took the posters and handbills and headed for Main Street. Their first stop was White’s Store.
“Can you hand these out?” Josie gave Norm a stack of handbills.
He examined them. “These look nice. I hope we have a good turnout.”
A young woman ventured into the store from the back room and greeted Josie.
Josie waved her forward. “Have you meet Walker Jones? He’s helping Pa and now is in charge of organizing a rodeo. Walker, this is Lisa Walton.” Walker had seen the young woman at church but hadn’t been formally introduced.
“My sister-in-law.” Norm’s smile said he was proud of the fact.
Walker handed Norm the poster. “Can we hang this?”
“There’s a board outside where everyone will see it.” He reached under the counter and pulled out a tack hammer and four tacks. “Here you go.”
Walker went out to secure the paper to the board. He finished and was ready to return inside, when he heard Lisa talking. He assumed to Josie.
“Looks like you got your own cowboy. Just like your sisters.”
Walker stopped and strained to hear Josie’s answer.
“He’s planning to leave as soon as he can.” The words sounded harsh and final.
Walker drew back. Had he really given the impression that he was anxious to leave?
Was he?
Josie continued speaking, but Walker realized she addressed Norm. “Can I hang a couple samples of my sewing in your store and a notice that I am taking orders?”
“Certainly,” Norm said. “I’m happy to help you out.”
“Tsk.” Lisa’s displeasure was clear. “Are you still planning to stay rooted here in town? No desire to look further afield?”
“I haven’t changed my mind.” Josie’s voice was soft, but Walker heard the firmness behind her words.
“There’s so much more out there.”
Walker took a step closer to the door and saw Lisa wave her arms as if to include the whole world.
Josie chuckled. “I’m quite happy here.” She shifted her attention back to Norm. “Thanks. I’ll get to work on the garments I want to display.” She turned, saw Walker, and bade good-bye to the others.
They fell into step as they went down the street to Sylvie’s Diner.
“Coffee? Breakfast?” Sylvie called. “Got some nice muffins still warm from the oven.”
“I know the muffins would be delicious,” Josie said. “But we’ve come about the rodeo.”
Sylvie huffed over to where they stood. “Heard about it. What can I do to help?” She eyed Walker as she talked, her gaze darting to Josie and back to Walker.
He wondered what was going through her head. He didn’t have to wait long to find out.
“Hope you plan to rope this good-looking cowboy before the rodeo. I expect the town will fill up with girls looking to hogtie a man.”
Walker couldn’t say who blushed the brightest, but his cheeks felt like they were on fire. “I don’t aim to let anyone hogtie me,” he managed to blurt out.
The color receded in Josie’s cheeks. “He’s got plans to move on.”
Why did she have to say that so often? The thought was sour.
Sylvie looked like she wanted to shake Walker. “Not the staying sort?” Then her face softened into a smile. “Men change their minds. Why, look at Earl. He comes to town every chance he gets and says he plans to move in for good this winter.”
“I’m glad for you,” Josie said. She held out a packet of handbills. “Can you give these out to people who come into the diner?”
Sylvie took the handbills and looked at them. “I’ll see that everyone gets one. It sounds like fun. I’ve been thinking about it. How about I serve coffee and charge for each cup? I can add that to the funds for the schoolbooks.”
“Excellent idea.” Josie and Walker spoke at the same time, glanced at each other, and grinned.
Then, realizing how closely Sylvie watched them, Walker shifted and pretended a great interest in the far table.
“Walker has a poster that we’d like to display here as well.”
He jerked his attention back to the task at hand and presented Sylvie with a poster.
“I’ll put in on the door so it can’t be missed,
” she said.
“Thank you,” he said, and hurried from the diner. As soon as they were out of earshot, he said, “That woman has see-all eyes.”
Josie chuckled. “You might be right. Between her and Mickey and young Jimmy there isn’t much that happens in town without one of them taking note.”
“And having an opinion?”
“They’re kind-hearted.”
He laughed. “So are you.”
She grinned at him, her eyes warm. “Nice of you to see it that way.”
They crossed the street and went down the block, turned right, and went to the big red barn. “Not often you see a barn painted so red,” he commented.
“Mickey wanted to spruce up the place. He was trying to impress Jimmy’s ma.”
“Did it work?”
“Seems to have. They are now married.”
“Wow. So, it’s red paint a man needs.” He held her gaze, teasing and challenging her at the same time.
“I wouldn’t suggest it would work for every woman.” They had stopped walking and faced each other at the corner of the fence penning in the livery barn horses.
“What would work for you?” He shouldn’t have asked the question, knowing she wanted more than he could offer. Maybe more than any man could, unless she let go of the past and trusted in a good future.
The minute grew long and pulsed with promise and—
He was about to say, hope. Dare he admit his hopes? To get a ranch? To understand why his father had sold their ranch?
She sucked in a deep breath and looked at the horses. “Nothing anyone can offer me. I aim to take care of myself.”
He heard words she didn’t speak. “Because you can trust no one but yourself?”
By the way she jerked he knew his words had touched a nerve. Then she shook herself as if shaking them off. “I trust Ma and Pa and my sisters.”
“Glad to hear it.” The finality of her words said she’d never allow herself to trust anyone else. Except—“What about your brothers-in-law?”
“So far, so good.” She forged ahead to the barn.
So far, so good? That wasn’t trust at all.
He followed her. Mickey saw them and came over to greet them.