by DiAnn Mills
“Can’t swim,” Bert said. “I’ll take my bath later.”
Aaron snickered. “There’s plenty of shallow spots.”
The boy turned a pasty white. Obviously he was afraid of water. “Take it easy on him until he knows us better,” John said. The kid asked to take his bath before supper, but John wanted him to finish mucking out the stalls. No point getting all smelly again so soon after a bath.
Aaron clasped a hand on Bert’s shoulder, and Mark did the same on the other shoulder. “We’ll take care of you, Bert. Don’t worry about a thing.”
Shortly afterward, the barefoot boys headed to the creek armed with soap, towels, clean clothes, and plenty of tricks up their sleeves for Bert. John knew their plans. Innocent fun. They’d never abuse the kid.
John followed them outside. “I’ll be right there,” he said. “I left the tack room in a mess and need to straighten it up.”
“I’ll do it.” Bert’s pale face indicated he didn’t feel well at all.
“Thanks, but I want to check on what needs to be repaired. Why don’t you get yourself clean and then head up to the house. As nasty as castor oil tastes, you might need a dose of it.”
A pitiful pair of large brown eyes met him.
“You have to get a bath, Bert,” he said. “There’s no getting out of it.”
Bert swallowed hard and lagged behind the others. Aaron turned to Mark with a grin, then snatched up Bert and swung him over his shoulder. John couldn’t help but laugh at the kid kicking and hollering to be put down. Bert pounded his fists into Aaron’s back as his brother hurried to the creek bank and ran in, clothes and all.
John watched to see how the kid reacted; Bert could have been abused in the past and might need some special care.
“We’ll save Mama the trouble of washin’ our clothes.” Aaron unbuttoned his shirt and began tugging it over his arms. “Come on, Bert. Teasing aside, I’ll teach you how to swim. It’s not hard once you get the hang of it.”
John listened and cringed at Mark’s use of the word “hang.” Not a good choice.
“And I’ll help him get rid of those smelly clothes.” Mark splashed toward him.
“No. Please no.” Bert struggled to get free of Aaron. “John, help me.”
The desperation in the boy’s voice captured John’s attention. “Bert, no one wants to hurt you.”
Mark grabbed Bert’s shirt, and Aaron grabbed the suspenders.
“No, please. Stop. I beg of you. I’m not a boy!” Bert’s last shriek could have been heard on the other side of the Rockies, but the silence it brought left them all speechless. Aaron and Mark immediately released the kid as though they’d touched hot coals.
John moistened his lips. “What did you say?”
“I’m not a boy.” Bert’s voice came like a whisper.
“So you’re a girl?”
She stood up to her full five feet and planted her hands on her hips. Water dripped from every inch of her. “If I’m not a boy then I reckon I’m a girl.”
John started to laugh. And when he did, his brothers took to laughing too. He sat on the soft grass nursing his sides and stomach. “Poor Bert, and here I was worried about you being sick. When were you going to tell us the truth?”
When Bert didn’t respond, John’s mind whipped into a gallop. A girl running alone? A girl who’d deceived him? A girl who refused to give him her last name — or her first name for that matter. “What kind of trouble have you brought to my family?”
“I hope none.” The fear in her eyes stopped him from saying more.
John stood from the creek bank. His troubles over one scrawny boy had just doubled. No, tripled. “I think you need to get to the house.”
Bert waded out of the water. She snatched up the towel and the clean clothes on the bank. Catching her gaze, he saw the pain of something he couldn’t describe in those huge brown eyes. But he wasn’t about to get soft on a girl who’d lied to him and his family.
“I’m sorry.”
John fished for something intelligent to say, but all of his words had drowned in the creek.
“And I didn’t steal Oberlander’s horse.”
Then his anger kicked to the surface. “I’m supposed to believe that when nothing you’ve said has been true?”
She walked straight up to him, barely coming up to his chest. “Suppose not. Do you want me to leave or stay and work off my debt?”
John peered out at his brothers and caught Evan’s eye. His near-man of a brother gave half a nod. “We’ll talk about your future after a family meetin'.”
“I can be gone before you’re finished here.”
John pressed his lips together and lifted her chin with a finger. “Little lady, if you aren’t at the house when I get back, I’m coming after you. And that’s a promise.”
Leah watched Bert stomp toward the house. Curiosity moved her to the front porch with a cup of coffee in her hand.
“You’ve taken your bath already?”
Bert frowned. “Not exactly. I’m wet though.”
Leah eyed the boy up and down. “I can see that. What happened?”
Bert ran his tongue over his lips, then stared at her. “I confessed to something.”
“Then you’d better tell me.” Leah sat down on the porch steps and patted the wooden plank beside her. “Sit down, Bert. We’re going to have a come-to-Jesus meetin'.”
“I don’t understand.” He hadn’t moved a step. But when Leah gestured again for him to sit, he complied.
“Best begin talking because the longer you wait, the harder it’ll be.” Once Bert took his place beside her, she took his hand.
“I’m not a boy.”
Leah had been right. “Is that so?” For a moment, she thought he, or rather she, might cry. “Anything else you want to tell me?”
Bert swallowed. “That’s enough. John’s real mad.”
“But you’re not surprised. You lied to him after he saved your life. I suspect this isn’t the only thing you’ve lied about.”
“Yes ma’am. I mean no, ma’am. I haven’t lied … just haven’t told him what he wants to know.” The girl’s eyes pooled, and she blinked several times.
“Are you ready to tell the truth?”
Bert shook her head. “I can’t.”
Compassion welled up in Leah. Whatever Bert had experienced must have been a nightmare. “What are we to do with you?”
Bert glanced at the hand holding hers. “John said there’d be a family meetin’ tonight. Except I’d rather leave.”
“Sometimes running seems to be the best answer to hard problems. But it doesn’t solve a thing. Truth is what frees us from ourselves.” She squeezed Bert’s hand. “Let’s get your bath and help you look respectable.”
CHAPTER 7
John leaned against a porch post. He’d sorted through every experience he’d ever known to come up with a solution for his problem with Bert. When his memory failed him, he prayed and thought about what his Uncle Parker might do in the same situation. Folks often said the two were alike in temperament and in the way they lassoed life. John doubted if Uncle Parker had encountered a girl with a questionable past who posed as a boy.
Uncle Parker had taught John how to live a godly life by standing up for his beliefs. He’d married a woman who’d been a bounty hunter and lived a couple of years with the Utes. That was unusual. But Aunt Sage never lied. In fact, she’d been straight up about everything in her life.
No help there, so John had gone back to praying, but his own anger seemed to drown out any guidance from the Lord. His brothers talked among themselves — Aaron and Mark laughed about something, and Evan propped Davis on his lap, no doubt a story in mind. Mama and Bert were still inside. Hopefully the girl had bathed, considering how badly she’d smelled at supper.
The door opened, and Mama walked out with Bert behind her … in a dress. John’s jaw dropped to his boots. Granted, Mama and Bert were about the same size, but Bert looked a whole lot
different in Mama’s blue dress. Especially since she was clean and her near-shoulder-length, honey-colored hair washed and shiny. Now why hadn’t Mama given her Mark’s old jeans and shirt to wear? That made more sense than … than … this.
“Whoa,” Evan said barely above a whisper. “Guess you aren’t a boy after all.”
John scowled. The fears assaulting him about a female in their midst had taken physical form. Mama and Bert sat together on the porch bench. Bert’s eyes were red as though she’d been crying. Women and tears were a bad combination. John wasn’t about to let that weaken his resolve to find out the truth.
“We’ve got a decision to make here as a family.” His voice lacked its usual force. “We’re going to vote on whether Bert stays and completes the debt she owes, or I take her into town and let Marshal Culpepper or the preacher handle her refusal to state who she is or where she’s from.”
“We can ask questions?” Evan said.
John didn’t like the moonfaced look on that boy’s face. “In a minute. I have a few of my own. The right name sounds like a good beginning.” John aimed his words at Bert with a heavy coating of sternness.
“I’ve always been called Bert.” She glanced at Mama. When his mother gave the girl the familiar “go ahead and speak your mind” look, John’s irritation changed to a twinge of jealousy. “I didn’t lie about my name.”
“Is your mother alive, or did you lie about that?”
Mama lifted her chin. “John, you can form your words with more kindness.”
“Yes ma’am.” He took a breath and Mark laughed. “Bert, is your mother living?”
“No. She died when I was born.”
“Thank you.”
Aaron snickered. Both he and Mark would taste his tongue later. “What about your father?”
“He’s living, but we parted company.”
“Any more family?”
“I’d rather not say.”
So this is how she intended to play the game. “Where are you from?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“Have you broken the law?”
“No. I didn’t steal Oberlander’s horse.”
“Who are you running from?”
“I’m just on my own.”
“How old are you?”
Bert looked down at her toes peeking out from under Mama’s dress, then peered square into John’s face. “Seventeen.”
Mama gasped. Evan coughed. Aaron and Mark laughed. Davis appeared oblivious to what was going on. A hundred more questions marched across John’s mind like an army headed to battle.
“You could have told us the truth about your age.”
“Yes sir. I can be on my way so as not to cause any more problems. When I get to where I’m going, I’ll find work and send you the money I owe.” Bert gulped, and John read desperation into her words. “But I’ve already proved to you I can work hard.”
“You did,” John said. “With the garden coming in, I think you’d best help Mama. Davis can give us a hand outside.” Truth was he didn’t want Bert near his brothers. “That is, if we vote you should stay.”
“Then let’s get at it.” Evan had yet to take his eyes off her.
“Don’t you boys have any questions? Mama?” John didn’t like the way this was heading at all.
“I don’t have any questions for Bert, but I do have something to say. A few days ago, we agreed with John to let Bert work off a debt. As a boy, he’d been beaten and looked like he hadn’t eaten a good meal in a long time. The only thing that’s changed is Bert is a young woman—a little older than we thought. I’d welcome the help for the garden and some of the other chores inside and outside of the house that I haven’t had time to do.”
They all want her to stay. But how did he feel, other than frustrated and overwhelmed? Add deceived … “Well, let’s vote. Who’s for Bert staying?”
Every brother raised his right hand, and so did Mama.
John’s insides churned like curdled milk. “Looks like Mama has some extra help.”
“What about you?” Davis’s eyes were round—and far too innocent. “You didn’t vote.”
Wouldn’t have done me any good. John smiled. “Looks like all of you decided for me.” He continued to smile and focused on Bert. “Could we take a walk? Not long. The sun’s setting and tomorrow is the Lord’s day.”
“Do you need me to accompany you?” Mama asked.
“John isn’t courtin', Mama,” Evan said. “He’s only going to give Bert the rules.”
John braced himself for the teasing to come about Bert being a girl, and his brothers did not fail him. After all, he was a grown man. But his feelings about being duped made him furious.
Still … if he allowed himself to be completely honest, other unbidden feelings had stepped inside him and taken up residence. When he saw how different Bert looked in a dress, it reinforced a need to protect her from unscrupulous men like Leon or anyone else who’d want to abuse her. But he’d never admit that to his brothers — or Mama. He thought about taking her hand, politelike, and helping her down from the porch. Instead, he stuffed it in his jeans pocket. This little gal had a few questions to answer.
When the laughing stopped, Bert slowly stood. She trembled, and he almost felt sorry for her. Almost. She descended the porch steps, holding up her dress so as not to trip. He’d seen Mama do the same thing plenty of times. Why did Bert look, well, fetching doing the same?
The two walked toward the creek. That seemed a fittin’ place since the truth came to light in those rocky waters.
“I didn’t know how to tell you.” Bert’s voice cracked. “I was afraid. But I am beholdin’ to you for saving my life.”
Why hadn’t he been able to tell that soft voice came from a female? No point dwelling on it any longer. The milk had been spilled, so all he could do was clean up the mess.
“I’m concerned about my brothers fussin’ over you,” he said. “They aren’t used to a girl being around.”
“I’ll be respectful, like you said before.”
John needed to know a few things to protect his family. “Is the one after you a husband?”
She shivered. “Not at all.”
“A man lookin’ for you to be his?”
“No sir.” Her eyes widened.
I know fear when I see it. “Is the law after you?”
“I’ve never broken the law, at least to my knowledge. I’ve picked berries from other ranchers’ lands, fished from the streams, and caught a rabbit or two.”
“I don’t call those things stealing. Some folks might, but I call it survivin'. I tell you this, if I catch you stealing anything, I’ll arrest you and make sure you stand trial. Is that clearly understood?”
“Yes sir.”
“How long have you been on the run?”
“Six months.”
“What kind of work have you done?”
“Hard to get a job when you look like an eleven-year-old boy.”
She turned her head, and he wished he could see her face. Then he’d be able to read what her words didn’t say. Before her debt was paid, he’d find out about Oberlander’s prize mare and the circumstances she’d left behind. “Is there anything else I should know in order to protect my family?”
She hesitated. “If I think so, I’ll leave.”
“I’m not an unfair man. You can talk to me.”
She nodded. “I’ll keep my distance from your brothers.”
But who would help him stay clear of her? Even though she had made him furious. Even though she had lied to him. Even though …
Why did she have to be so easy on the eyes?
That night, Bert should have been able to drift off to sleep. Instead she found it impossible to stop her rushing thoughts. She understood John was trying hard to be nice because she was a girl. She wished she’d known sooner how he’d react. Maybe she’d have told him the truth. Miss Leah said he had a good heart and for her not to be afraid of him. But she kn
ew what a man could do …
The night brought on a chill, and she shivered. Yet for the first time in longer than she could remember, Bert sensed a strange kind of peace. How very strange she felt safe within the dark confines of night when she couldn’t see what was hidden outside the house. Foolishness had settled in her for sure. No one here could protect her from Simon. But the Timmonses brought out a longing and an ache for a better life. They were good people, and they believed they were doing right by her.
A feeling of something more kin to selfishness than appreciation rained over her. How many times had she been labeled a dreamer and not good enough for decent folks? She shouldn’t risk this. She shouldn’t risk what her staying might mean to the Timmonses. But like she told John, if she had an indication that Simon was in the area, she’d leave.
You’re a stupid fool, Bert. All you’re good for is doin’ what you’re told.
But right now the familiar condemnation seemed far away.
Simon wouldn’t give up. Not with what she’d done. But surely he’d not hurt any of the Timmonses, especially with John being a deputy marshal. Would he?
For certain, during the four months it took to pay John back, she’d drink in what it meant to have a real family.
Bert rolled over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Sleeping arrangements had changed, and now she shared a bed with Leah. From the even breathing beside her, the dear woman lay sleeping. Tomorrow was Sunday and church. Gideon had told her once that church was not a place for their kind. Church folks spent their days being nice to each other and not looking for someone to stab them in the back.
At least Simon wouldn’t show up there.
CHAPTER 8
Bert borrowed an old pair of Miss Leah’s shoes for church, and she wore the dress that had shocked the Timmons boys the night before. Although she relaxed in the knowledge that her own brothers wouldn’t recognize her, it didn’t stop her fear of attending church. And whoever the Timmonses called God, He must be powerful and not just a name to swear by.
She sat on the front buckboard squeezed between Leah and John. Rightfully, she could have sat in the back with the brothers, but John wanted her beside him. She wasn’t a fool. She knew the real reason, as though some of her bad qualities would rub off on the other boys.