The Heart Answers (Wyoming Series Book 3)

by Colleen Coble

  A sentry shouted the time, and Letty put her hand to her mouth. “I must go. Samuel will be home for his lunch soon. I’ll check back this afternoon to see if you’re having any problems.”

  She scurried away, pausing once to look back with a strange look on her face, a mixture of pride and exasperation. But Jessica certainly didn’t feel any pride in what she’d agreed to do, although she felt plenty of exasperation.

  She had just hung the first batch of clothes on the line when Franny came out the door, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She stumbled across the muddy yard and hooked her hand in Jessica’s skirt. “Where’s Uncle Clay?” she asked.

  “He had to go to work, sweetheart,” Jessica told her. “He’ll be back after supper. I’m going to stay here with you and take care of you.”

  The little girl’s blue eyes grew enormous in her face. “Forever and ever?” she whispered. “Just like Mommy did?” Two giant tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Answering tears stung Jessica’s eyes. “Forever and ever,” she promised. She knelt and took Franny in her arms. “Your mommy was a wonderful mommy, and I know I can’t be as good a mommy as she was, but I’m going to try to take care of you like she would have wanted.” The feel of those chubby arms around her neck made the last hour’s work worthwhile, she decided.

  She put Franny back on the ground and took her hand. “How about some lunch?” They walked back to the cabin, and Jessica sat the little girl down on a chair at the table. “What sounds good for lunch?”

  She looked at the meager supplies and realized she would have to see about getting some food. There were some dried beans which she could cook for supper, a bit of salt pork, two slices of bread, and a few shriveled potatoes. “How about some jam and bread?” There didn’t seem to be much else to fix.

  “I love jam.” Franny leaned her chin against her hand and watched as Jessica spread butter and jam on the last remaining bread slices.

  As they ate their lunch, Jessica watched the dimples in Franny’s cheeks come and go and felt content. After she finished with the laundry, she would try her hand at baking some bread. Mama had promised to come back, and maybe she could take time to show her how.

  After their meager lunch, she put the beans in a pan and covered them with water the way she had seen her mother do. She put the pot on the cookstove and got the fire going, relieved that it was a bit more cooperative than the one in the yard. Feeling pleased with herself, she took Franny and her doll out to the yard and settled her in a corner of the laundry tent while she tackled another load of dirty clothing.

  A mere hour later she wasn’t feeling so complacent. Her back and arms ached from bending over the tub, and her head hurt from the fumes. Red, chapped areas on her hands itched almost unbearably, and Franny was beginning to whine from boredom. Her mother had stopped by, but only briefly, and Jessica felt abandoned and alone. How was she supposed to get all this work done? The thought of doing this every day made her shudder. She was thankful for the meager protection from the sun offered by the tent, although she still had to stand in the sun to stir the clothes in the tub over the fire.

  She straightened wearily and put a hand to her back. After fetching Franny some blocks, she hung clothes on the line and gathered up another armload of laundry.

  “Hey, Red, you look tired.” Clay’s wide grin was insufferably smug. “Ready to give up this crazy idea?”

  Although that was exactly what she’d been thinking, Jessica straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Of course not,” she said loftily. “I’m getting along just fine. You really don’t need to check up on me.”

  His grin widened. “You look done in. Want some help?”

  Torn between her pride and her common sense, Jessica hesitated. She was relieved when Franny ran up to Clay and distracted him.

  “Did you finally wake up?” He picked her up and tossed her into the air. “How would you and Molly like to go to the sutler’s store for a piece of licorice?” He cocked an eyebrow at Jessica. “That okay with you?”

  “Of course. I was about to suggest you spend some time with her. Watching me do laundry isn’t much fun for her.” So much for his offer of help. Not that she would have let him know she could use the assistance, of course.

  “Now you know why Ellen was so grateful for those days you took Franny with you.” He settled his hat more firmly on his head and turned to go, then turned back toward her. “I’ll be over about seven for devotions with you and Franny. That should give you time to get supper done and Franny bathed and settled.”

  “Why don’t you come for supper?” As soon as the words were out, she wished them back. What had possessed her to invite him? She was exhausted, her back hurt, and this was her first attempt at cooking a meal. She bit her lip and looked away. Maybe he would refuse.

  But he grinned again, that devastating smile that did funny things to her stomach, and nodded. “It’s a deal.” He gave her a small wave and left her alone with her thoughts.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, and two lone tears trickled from behind her closed eyelids. She would get through this. There were men here, lots of men. She needed to think about finding one who would get her out of this situation. It shouldn’t be too hard. Her thoughts strayed to that single kiss she’d shared with Clay. If only he loved her as she loved him, but that was just a trap. Love meant nothing. She needed to find a man before this work destroyed her beauty.

  §

  Clay shook his head in amazement as he strode across the parade ground. He had been shocked when Jessica agreed to his demands and even more amazed when she started actually doing the dirty laundry. He hadn’t realized how incongruous the picture of her bending over a tub of laundry was until he saw her do it. The sleeves of her expensive gown had been pushed up to reveal the smooth, white skin of her arms, and her hair, usually so carefully coifed, hung in strings around her flushed face. Her flawless complexion was now dusted with freckles from the sun. Red had a lot more gumption than he’d given her credit for. He had actually felt sorry for her when he saw her bending over that tub, but he had hardened his heart. She needed to learn this lesson. He didn’t want Franny raised by a high-society debutante.

  A memory of the way she had felt in his arms stirred him, and he pushed it away. It was a never-to-be-repeated moment of madness, a temporary wave of insanity. They had too many differences, and the main one was her lack of faith in God. If she ever thought she could twist him around her finger, she’d have him tucking his tail between his legs and meekly agreeing to pastor some high-society church back east somewhere. She didn’t understand his calling and she never would.

  He and Franny bought a stick of licorice, then strolled around the fort. Several soldiers hailed him, and he stopped for a chat several times. He helped one soldier upright an overturned wagon, then took Franny to visit Lieutenant Brown’s wife, Charlotte. She had recently given birth to a daughter, and Franny was fascinated with the red-faced, wrinkled baby. He had to admit it was a cute little mite, and he found himself remembering when Franny looked like that. For a moment a vision of Jessica with a baby—his baby—in her arms swept over him, but he quickly dismissed it. That would certainly never happen. Mrs. Brown insisted they stay for tea, and it was nearly six when he took Franny and hurried across the grassy knoll to Suds Row.

  The acrid smell of burned beans escaped from under the closed door, and he could hear Jessica banging pots. He suppressed a grin. Good thing he wasn’t really hungry after eating with Mrs. Brown. He knocked on the door and waited several minutes, then knocked again when she didn’t answer the door. After another long moment, the door swung open, and she motioned him in. She had made an attempt to make herself presentable, but she was still flushed and a bit bedraggled. Dried soap speckled her dress, and freckles stood out on her sunburned face and arms.

  “Smells like supper is done,” he said with a grin.

  She glared at him, then burst into tears. “You’re making fun of me, and I’ve tried
so hard today,” she wailed. She scrubbed at her eyes like a child and turned her back to him.

  For just a moment he wanted to turn her around and hold her against his chest. What a crazy thought. There was no way he was letting his emotions get involved with her. A beauty like her could take a man’s heart and rip it to shreds; she couldn’t be as vulnerable as she seemed. He tried to think of something funny to say to diffuse the tears, but his mind went blank.

  Franny tugged on Jessica’s skirt. “Don’t cry, Jessie. I brought you a piece of licorice.” She held up the candy with a bright smile on her face. “See?”

  Jessica looked down at the little girl, then sniffed back the tears. She took the licorice and attempted a watery smile. “How did you know licorice is my favorite candy?”

  Clay grinned at the quick recovery of her composure, but his eyes watered from the smoke in the cabin, and he wanted to get away from it. “Let’s go for a walk while the cabin clears out,” he suggested.

  Her blue eyes filled with tears again, but she just nodded. “I need to go by my mother’s and get my things.” She followed him out the door, and they turned toward the row of officers’ quarters.

  Clay felt tongue-tied in her presence. The sharp-tongued, confident Jessica he could handle, but he wasn’t so sure about this weepy, uncertain one. This was what he wanted, though, wasn’t it? To humble her a bit and make her take a good hard look at herself? But this new Jessica was more intriguing than the other one, and he wasn’t sure he dared to know her better.

  They stopped at the DuBois quarters, and Clay and Franny sat on the porch while Jessica went inside to get her things. They were joined a few minutes later by Miriam and Bridie.

  Miriam gave him a flirtatious smile and swished her skirts as she sat down beside him. “I haven’t seen you for ages,” she said with a reproachful look.

  “I’ve been pretty busy,” he said. “And you won’t see me at all for the next few weeks. I leave tomorrow for Utah.”

  She pouted prettily. “Will you miss me at all?”

  He grinned. “I’ll be too busy to miss anyone.”

  Bridie interrupted. “Is Jessica really going to be a washerwoman? Miriam said she saw her doing laundry, but I didn’t believe her.”

  Clay grinned. “I don’t think she’d like that title very well, but yeah, she is going to be doing laundry.”

  Bridie’s green eyes danced with amusement. “I’ll have to stop by and see this for myself.”

  Jessica came out of the house with an armload of clothing. “I have a trunk of things, too. Do you think you could get it to the cabin for me?”

  “No problem.” He found the small trunk just inside the door and hoisted it to his shoulder. “What you got in here? Books?”

  Jessica smiled. “Actually, there are some books in there. I wanted to continue Franny’s education.”

  “Just when do you think you’ll have time for that? Even Ellen didn’t have time to do everything.”

  She spun around to face him and put her hands on her hips. “Are you insinuating that I can’t do the things Ellen did?”

  He started across the parade ground without answering her. She would just get more riled if he told her what he really thought. She was a high-society do-gooder and would soon tire of this role. In the meantime, he would take the help she offered and let Franny enjoy her company. He had to admit that she’d stuck it out longer than he thought she would. She definitely had pluck. He had thought he’d find her and Franny back at the DuBois quarters by night-fall. He felt a little uneasy at the thought of leaving her for two weeks. He didn’t think she would do anything to hurt Franny, but still, he felt a bit of trepidation.

  He heard her scurrying to catch up with him. Pausing when he reached the little bridge across the stream in the middle of the parade ground, he shifted the trunk to the other shoulder and hurried on toward Suds Row. He just wanted to get her settled and leave before he weakened and kissed her again. He thought about that kiss a lot. Too much for his own peace of mind.

  The sharp smell of smoke had dissipated some when he shoved open the door and deposited his burden in the corner of the room. Jessica laid her armload of clothing on the bed and eyed him warily. She bit her full lower lip, and he thought again about that kiss. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he forget it? He stepped away and turned his back on her. These sudden surges of attraction had to stop. She was not anywhere near the ideal he had in his head of a suitable wife. He was suddenly glad he would be leaving for a few weeks; maybe by the time he came back these compelling bouts of tenderness would be gone.

  He cleared his throat, then held out his arms to Franny. “Give me a kiss, moppet. I have to go away for a little while.”

  Franny’s eyes filled with tears, and her lips trembled. She flung herself into his arms and wound her arms around his neck. “You can’t leave me, Uncle Clay!” she sobbed. “Please, please, don’t go!” Heart-wrenching sobs racked her shoulders, and her tears soaked through his shirt.

  “Hey, don’t take on so.” He smoothed her hair back from her forehead. “I won’t be gone long. And Jessica will be here with you. She’ll take good care of you.”

  But his comforting words did little to still the storm of tears. He patted her and looked helplessly at Jessica. She moved to his side and caressed Franny’s back.

  “How about if Uncle Clay reads you a story before he goes?”

  Slowly, Franny lifted her face, red and blotched with tearstains. “The one about the little red hen?”

  “I can cluck with the best of them,” Clay said solemnly. “You get in your nightie first and when you’re ready for bed, I’ll demonstrate my wondrous hen imitation.”

  She giggled and slid out of his arms to the floor. “Can Molly listen, too?”

  “If you promise she won’t laugh at my clucking.”

  She laughed again and ran off to change. Clay gave Jessica a grin and a mock sigh. “Now look what you’ve gotten me into, Red.”

  “I’m not the one who offered to cluck.” Her lips twitched. She looked weary, but her blue eyes were full of mischief. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

  He read two stories to Franny, then took out his Bible. “Time for devotions,” he said.

  He saw Jessica’s eyes widen, and she looked away. It was easy to see that spiritual things made her uneasy. He was curious about her background. Her mother faithfully attended the services and seemed truly interested in learning all she could about God. How had that spiritual hunger missed Jessica? Ellen had hinted that he should get to know her better before judging her. Was there some secret from Jessica’s childhood that had shaped her?

  He shook the musings away and opened his well-thumbed Bible. He decided to start with something easy and turned to Psalm 23. He read the psalm to Franny and helped her learn the first two verses.

  Jessica listened closely and seemed determined to participate in this facet of Franny’s upbringing. “Is there such a thing as still waters in this life?” she asked him after they put Franny to bed. “My experience has been that turbulence and trouble follow us everywhere we go. Look at what happened to Ellen.”

  “True,” Clay admitted. “But when we have God, we can rest in Him and know that He has everything under control even when we can’t see it.”

  She was silent a moment. “Did God want Franny to be orphaned?”

  “You ask hard questions,” he said. “God never promised we wouldn’t have trouble and problems in this life. He just promised to go with us through them. As parents we would like to spare our children any hardship and trials, but if we were able to shield our child from any hard blow, she would grow up spoiled and selfish with no idea how to take care of herself, with no compassion for the pain of other people, and with the thought that the world revolved around her. God is much too wise and loves us too much to ever make that mistake. The hard things in life shape us and mold us into a closer picture of Jesus. Our goal here should be to become more like Him. W
e can’t do that if God shields us from every bump and bruise.”

  He could see her thinking about his words. “You’re describing me, aren’t you?” she said finally. “You think I’m spoiled and selfish and that my parents coddled me too much. You really don’t know about the bruises and bumps I had early in life.”

  Clay was quiet for a moment. “We can choose to let those bruises shape us into someone better, or we can use them as an excuse for willful, selfish behavior.”

  Jessica stood and turned her back to him. “At least now I know what you really think about me,” she said. “I think you’d better go. I’m tired, and I need to go to bed.”

  He picked up his hat and jammed it on his head, then took his Bible and rose to his feet. “Just remember what I said, Red. Only you can decide whether to let those painful memories help you or heal you.”

  Her eyes were shadowed with fatigue and defiance, but she followed him to the door.

  “I’ll be back in a few weeks, and I’ll try to take Franny off your hands as much as possible during the day,” he told her. “If you need anything, you can send a telegram to Fort Hall.”

  She didn’t answer him but only inclined her head. He looked at her stiff shoulders and sighed. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but maybe she was beginning to see herself. She had at least recognized that she was spoiled and selfish. Maybe when he got back they could talk more.

  eight

  Jessica slammed the shirt she was washing against the side of the tub, then scrubbed it viciously against the washboard. The hapless shirt was taking the brunt of the anger and hurt she felt after her talk with Clay. He’d been gone a month, but his remarks still rankled. She couldn’t seem to get them out of her mind. She’d show him! There were plenty of men around here who admired both her beauty and her spirit. Why was she pining away for a man who cared for neither? Officers and enlisted men stopped by daily, and the fort thronged with men stopping through on their way to the goldfields or the West Coast, men who had cast appreciative glances her way. She could snap her fingers and have any of them.