by Linda Ford
He let Maisie make the introductions.
As soon as Adam spied Johnny among the newcomers, he held out his arms to him.
Willow shifted him to her other side so he couldn’t see Johnny, but the baby squirmed around and reached for him.
“I could hold him,” Johnny offered, hoping no one would hear a hint of eagerness in his voice. He’d discovered something very satisfying about holding a baby.
“If you don’t mind.”
He took the child and grinned inwardly when the little guy buried his face against his shoulder as if expecting him to protect him from those other men. But as he sat next to Willow, Johnny could not meet Levi’s eyes across the table. Let him think what he would. This changed nothing.
They passed the food and filled their plates.
“I’ll feed him,” Willow said, and Johnny shifted the baby to her knee. She tried to persuade him to eat, but he turned away from the food. “Maybe when you’re feeling better.”
At the worry in her voice, Johnny wished for a way to make life easier for her. That, however, was not his responsibility. It would be her husband’s if he were alive. Being as she was a widow, he supposed it was God’s job to look after the details of her life. Even though she said she figured God wasn’t doing a good job of it.
As she did every evening, Maisie asked about their day, starting with Big Sam.
“I dragged a cow out of a mud hole down on the flats. It looks like we’ll have to move the cows away from that area.”
Maisie turned to Johnny next.
“You all know what I did. I brought Mrs. Reames and her son here.” He didn’t care to add to that. Not the disappointment of delaying his journey to the cabin nor the unexpected joy of holding young Adam.
“Willow,” she whispered. “Please call me Willow.”
Maisie asked Levi next.
“I saw Tanner. He says everyone is well.”
Maisie turned to Willow. “Tanner is the oldest of the Harding boys.” She got a distant look in her eyes. “I can’t believe he’s twenty-one and married. And now I have four grandchildren.”
“My brother married Susanne, who is raising her brother’s four orphaned children,” Johnny explained. “Now they’re a new family.” He’d never before thought how nice it sounded. Blame Adam for making him realize he might be missing something by shutting his heart and life to the possibility of experiencing the same kind of joy and belonging. But his experience taught him he could not expect to fare as well as his big brother had.
Maisie sighed. “I can’t believe how time has flown. When I married your pa, you—” she looked at Johnny “—were eight and you—” she looked at Levi “—were seven. And now look at you. All grown up at twenty and nineteen.” She emitted another deep sigh.
Levi chuckled. “But every minute of it has been fun, right?”
Maisie’s face became wreathed in a smile. “It has indeed.” She turned to Willow. “My dear, tell us about your day. Where are you from and where are you headed?”
Willow repeated the story she’d told Johnny, of being widowed three months ago and now expecting her sisters to join her in Granite Creek.
Maisie patted her hand. “I’m glad you’re getting a chance to start over. I firmly believe in new beginnings.” She then gave a report of her day—how the garden progressed, the birds she’d enjoyed. “And best of all, having Willow and Adam here for a visit.” She smiled warmly at the young woman.
Johnny saw the wariness in Willow’s eyes before it shifted suddenly to thankfulness. “I’m grateful you were nearby and could help,” she said.
The meal ended and the men went outdoors again, as much to escape the heat of the house as to finish their work.
Johnny went to the wagon, not surprised when Levi followed.
“Never thought you to be the kind of guy to hold a baby that wasn’t your own.” His brother paused. “Hadn’t even pictured you holding your own. Kind of figured you to be the sort to leave that all to the missus. ’Course, you’d have to get married first.”
“And you know I don’t intend to do that.” He contemplated the repair on the wagon, planning to get blocks to hold it while he removed the wheel.
“Like Ma says, it’s good to start over.”
Johnny straightened and faced his brother. “You saying that for your sake or mine?”
Levi’s teasing grin vanished in a flash of pain.
Johnny wished he could pull the words back. He had no desire to bring up hurtful memories for his brother. “I’m sorry. Forget I said that. In case you’ve forgotten, I am planning to start over. Me and Thad.”
Levi snorted. “I doubt that’s what Ma meant.”
Johnny shrugged. “Not all of us can find what Tanner found.”
“You mean a woman like Susanne or a ready-made family?”
“Yup.” Let Levi interpret that any way he liked.
“I saw the look on your face when you held that baby. Seems a ready-made family might be to your liking.”
“I played second fiddle, second best to the father of a child with Trudy. Sure as guns don’t plan to do that again.” Johnny marched away to find blocking material.
He’d fix the wagon and send Willow and Adam on their way just as soon as the boy was deemed fit to travel. Then he’d go to the cabin and prepare it to live in.
That was his plan and he meant to stick to it. Not even the downy head of a little boy would change his mind.
* * *
Willow stared at the door after the men left. Were they what they appeared to be? Big Sam, a man of considerable size, smiled so tenderly at his wife and bestowed looks of approval at his sons...and the two grown sons were so polite.
She swallowed hard, trying unsuccessfully to ease the lump in her throat that made it almost impossible to breathe. Her own father had been like that. He’d said he loved having three daughters and she’d never seen any hint that he didn’t mean it. She’d known nothing but affection and approval from him.
She shook off the ache that had become part of her every breath since her parents’ deaths. In a day she would be reunited with her sisters, and together they’d again create the Hendricks family.
“I regret that I kept Johnny from his plans,” she said by way of apology.
“He has a cabin to repair.”
“Is he getting married?”
“No.” Maisie paused. “He and his best friend, Thad, have plans.” She rolled her head a little. “They need a new beginning.”
It sounded rather mysterious but it was none of her business. “I’ll help clean up,” she told Maisie. But when she put Adam down, he threw himself on his back and cried. “I’m sorry. He’s not usually like this.” Normally he liked the freedom of scooting around on the floor, exploring every corner.
“He’s miserable. And the house is hot. Take him outside and let him rest in the shade. I don’t mind doing this on my own.” Maisie waved her hand to indicate the kitchen and the dish-laden table.
“But—”
“Wait right there.” She went into the other room and returned with a neatly folded quilt. “Spread that on the ground for him.”
Willow hesitated. “It doesn’t seem right. First I keep Johnny from his plans, and now I’ve given you extra work.” Johnny had been going the opposite direction when he rescued her.
“Hush now. You haven’t given me extra work and Johnny’s plans can wait.”
Murmuring her thanks, Willow carried her son and the quilt outside and settled on the ground in the shade of some trees. As Adam reached for some leaves to play with, Willow relaxed for the first time in many hours. Make that many days. Since she’d left Wolf Hollow.
Were Johnny’s plans as pressing as hers? If so, she had cost him a delay. She’d be sure to thank
him at the first opportunity.
It didn’t take long for a hundred worries to put an end to her relaxed state. Were her sisters as anxious to see her as she was to see them? Where was she to sleep tonight? The last two had been spent at the wagon, where she’d slept poorly, concerned about the safety of herself, her son and her belongings. Would Adam be ready to travel in the morning? Perhaps sleeping in the open accounted for his ear infection. Was it another mistake she would bear the burden of?
She trailed a cluster of leaves across Adam’s tummy. He giggled, then screwed up his face and wailed.
“Poor little guy is in pain.”
She jerked about to stare at Johnny. “You startled me.”
“I saw you come out and thought I should tell you your wagon is fixed and ready to go.” He sat on the grass beside her.
Adam crawled into his lap.
Willow squinted at the baby. What was there about this man that drew her son like a magnet?
As if reading her mind, Johnny said, “I suppose because I drove you here, he thinks I have something to do with Maisie helping ease his pain.”
“I suppose.” It really didn’t matter. They’d likely not see him again, or catch nothing more than glimpses of him in town. “I know I interrupted your plans for the day. I’m sorry. I hope it doesn’t mean you lost some opportunity.”
“Not at all.” When Adam perched in his lap as if he’d found a throne, Johnny smiled. “I was on my way to fix a cabin.” He gave a little laugh when the baby plucked at Johnny’s shirtsleeve. “If it’s not done in time, we can sleep under the stars.”
“Still, I’m sorry for causing you a delay,” Willow murmured.
“No need to apologize.”
He didn’t seem to mind, but how was she to know if his words were only politeness? She tried to think of something more to say, but her mind was on her own plans. Johnny offered no conversation as he trailed a blade of grass up and down Adam’s arm to amuse him.
Maisie stepped out of the house to join them. “Willow, I’ve made up a bed for you and Adam.”
“Oh, but I didn’t plan to spend the night.” At least not in the house. She still had her wagon.
“Of course you will. There’s no other place and you’re most welcome.”
Maisie was right. There was no other place. Sleeping under the wagon in a ranch yard where men came and went certainly didn’t appeal. “Thank you.”
“How’s little Adam?”
“He seems content enough now. Maybe he’s over it.” Willow had no choice but to leave tomorrow whether or not he was better. But she didn’t fancy adding to his misery.
They sat in the shade for another hour, joined by Big Sam and Levi. The Hardings talked together. Willow would have been content to sit and listen, but Maisie continually attempted to draw her into the conversation, so she politely responded. She learned more about the family, first and foremost that they had strong opinions and all appeared to have a firm belief that God loved and cared for them.
She wished she could believe it so easily. Ma and Pa would be disappointed if they knew of her doubts.
Big Sam rose first. “Time for bed.” He held out a hand to draw Maisie to her feet, and the pair shared a look of affection before Maisie turned back to her.
“Let me show you to your room.”
Willow scrambled up, folded the quilt and reached for Adam, who drowsed in Johnny’s lap. She meant to lift the baby and hurry away, but she couldn’t be so rude as to not thank him and bid him good-night.
She met his dark, bottomless eyes, saw guardedness so familiar she might have been reading her own mind. For a moment, she wondered at the cause of it in him, then she took Adam. “Thank you and good night.” She hurried after Maisie.
Odd that she should feel a bond to Johnny because of something she imagined she saw. Or perhaps it was only because he’d been so gentle with Adam. She surely appreciated that. Or maybe she let her little son’s approval of the man carry some weight. She must be careful. Johnny appeared to be a kind man, but who knew what existed behind that exterior? She, for one, was not about to attempt to find out. Not that it was a possibility. She’d have her hands full taking care of Adam, providing a home for her sisters and somehow earning a living to support them all. She had a poke of gold that she had started saving as soon as they arrived in Wolf Hollow, taking bits Bertie neglected to pick up, or finding it in his pockets when she did the laundry. She didn’t consider it stealing so much as getting her rightful share. For all Bertie cared about her welfare and Adam’s, they would have starved to death without her careful hoarding.
“Come this way.” Maisie led her through the kitchen into a sitting room with large comfortable furnishings and shelves full of books.
Willow eyed the volumes. She loved reading, but ignored the call of her heart to explore every one of those books, and followed Maisie into a room with a wide bed covered in a prettily patterned quilt so clean and bright it made her blink. A chest of drawers stood on one side of the room, and by the bed, a little table with a chair beside it. Somehow it didn’t surprise her that a Bible lay beside the lamp.
“This used to be Tanner’s room, but now that he’s married we use it for guests. I hope you’ll be comfortable.”
“It’s very nice. Thank you.”
As Maisie closed the door behind her, Willow began preparing Adam for bed. He had drowsed in Johnny’s arms, but as soon as she tried to settle him, he fussed and rolled his head back and forth. After much rocking and humming, he finally calmed, and she lay down beside him, fully clothed.
Some time later Adam’s crying jerked her instantly awake. She touched him. “You’re fevered again.” He should be sponged, but would it be considered rude for her to go the kitchen when the household was asleep? She didn’t have a choice and tiptoed from the room with him in her arms. Moonlight shone through the windows and she filled a basin with water and found a washcloth without lighting a lamp. Where had Maisie put the drops? The shelves were too dark for Willow to locate them. She’d have to settle for sponging the baby, and she set to work, murmuring comfort as she did so.
At least Adam’s cries were now little more than whimpers—a fact that made her nerves twitch. “It’s only an earache. Children have earaches all the time and it’s not dangerous. Nothing bad is going to happen,” she murmured over and over, hoping her tone comforted Adam and wishing the words would comfort her.
“Can I do anything to help?”
Again she hadn’t heard Johnny approach. She looked up to see him enter the kitchen. “You caught me talking to myself.” Thankfully, it was too dark for him to see her cheeks burn with embarrassment.
“I thought you were talking to Adam.”
“I was.”
“His fever has returned?”
“Yes. I thought he was on the mend.”
Johnny pulled out a chair, but didn’t sit. “Do you want me to light a lamp?”
“He might settle faster if you don’t.”
“Of course.” He sat down. “Poor little guy.”
She heard the sympathy in Johnny’s voice, and before she could stop it, Willow’s heart opened a fraction. Not once had Bertie gotten up in the night with Adam. Not once had he done anything but complain when the baby cried. Nor had he let her forget the baby wasn’t his and never would be.
Willow’s jaw tightened. Poor Adam would never know a father’s love and she had no one to blame but herself. She meant to make up for that lack as best she could by being the best mother possible. Seeing him fuss, she wondered if she had failed at that.
After a bit Adam’s fever relented. He reached for Johnny, who took him and cradled him on his lap.
“He’s never gone to a man before.” She hadn’t meant to say it aloud.
“You mean apart from his father.” J
ohnny’s deep voice seemed to soothe away Adam’s fears.
“Not even his father.” Again, she unintentionally spoke her thoughts aloud. Blame it on the silvery moonlight.
“Really? But Adam is so...”
When he didn’t finish the thought, she pressed, “He’s so what?”
With a soft chuckle, Johnny said, “Cuddly.”
“He is indeed.” She managed to corral the rest of her thoughts—the many regrets and her guilt. Making a home for them would hopefully make up for some of them. “He’s content now. I’ll take him back to bed.”
Johnny got to his feet. “I’ll carry him to the door,” he said, when she reached for Adam.
They crossed the room together and paused before the bedroom Willow and Adam had been assigned.
Adam fussed a little as Johnny shifted him to Willow’s arms. She slipped into the room and closed the door softly. Adam whimpered, so she rocked him until finally, with a deep sigh, he slept, his arms thrown over his head.
Morning came and, with its brightening rays, a yearning for more sleep. But there was no time. Willow had to set out.
She touched Adam’s brow. He wasn’t hot. His fever hadn’t returned during the night. She could leave with a clear conscience.
On the tail of that thought came one vastly different.
Could she make a warm, welcoming home like the Hardings’?
Chapter Three
Johnny took his chair at the breakfast table. The place set for Willow remained vacant. “The baby was fussy in the night. They might both still be sleeping.”
“I’m here.” Willow stood in the doorway, her dark brown hair again brushed back into a coil about her head.
He liked it better loose about her shoulders as it had been last night. But of course, she hadn’t expected to see him then or she would probably have done it up proper. He shook his head. What made him think such a thing?
Little Adam looked at the room full of people and ducked his head against his mama’s neck.