Abandoned Hearts (The Ozark Durham Series)

by Regina Tittel

  “What exactly were you doing before you came here?” His question came out of nowhere.

  He lay stretched out in front of the fire with Ann across from him and the children fast asleep on the pile of blankets.

  Ann scooted from the chair to sit beside him on the floor. She drew her knees to her chest and exhaled. Where do I start? Before she could hesitate further, the words tumbled out of her mouth.

  “I was a nanny for a high-society couple up north. An ideal job, or so, I thought. Amy was their three-year-old daughter, and after I came they added a baby boy to the picture. Things went from good, to kind of decent, to unbearable. The couple fought all the time. The husband started to drink more and more.

  “So that’s why you left?”

  Ann twirled a strand of hair. “Not, exactly.” She chewed her lip with indecision. Tell him. Not tell him. She stole a quick glance at Jacob. All she needed to continue was revealed in the depth of his eyes. Concern. Patience. Protection.

  “Umm…I wound up losing my job, and because of rumors, I couldn’t find other employment.” Ann batted her lashes against the threat of tears. Why was this so difficult to tell? She wasn’t the guilty party.

  “My employer forced his way into my room one night,” she swallowed the rising lump in her throat and turned her face away.

  Beside her, Jacob straightened. He balled his hands into fists as a muscle in his jaw twitched.

  The tip of Ann’s finger turned white from the tightness of the wound hair. “His wife happened to walk by and she got him…he didn’t get to… I, I wasn’t hurt.”

  Jacob took hold of her hand. “Come here,” he said as he pulled her next to him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders in a protective gesture and rested his head against hers. “You’re safe now.”

  Tears still threatened to flow. She may be safe, but how could she move past the guilt? Ann’s posture remained stiff beside Jacob.

  As if sensing her discomfort, he released her and tilted her chin to meet his eyes. “What else?”

  Ann’s lips quivered. Shame forced her eyes to the floor. “They said some really nasty things about me after I was fired. I know they’re not true, but I still feel guilty.” Her voice cracked at the omission. “If I would have left earlier…”

  “That’s no reason to feel guilty, Annie.”

  “You don’t understand. I knew things weren’t right.”

  The nine month old child had gotten her out of bed for a bottle of milk. While wrestling with him in the kitchen, her robe came undone. Her employer watched the scene from the shadows of another room. When she realized he was there, she hurriedly retreated to her bedroom and shut the door.

  Still, there were other times she heard her name included in their arguments. Her presence was becoming a source of discomfort. A wedge formed between her employers. The children’s parents. Yet, because of her own selfish attachment to the children, she’d stayed.

  Ann stared at the red and orange flames as they danced in the hearth. “I’ve asked God to forgive me, because I know where I was to blame. But, I can’t seem to move past what they said or what he did. It’s like a continual rerun being played in my mind.”

  Jacob shifted on the floor. “Ann, the only power their words and his actions have is the power you give them. You’re allowing them to have this control over you.”

  Ann turned to face him, frustration colored her cheeks. “But you…I…”

  “Ann.” Jacob grasped her shoulders. “You’re strong and capable. Take back the reins.”

  Could it be that simple? Have I been feeding this myself? Ann turned back to the fire and watched it laugh at her weakness. All it would take to tame that flame is a bucket of water. She stared at Jacob with admiration. He was right. She’d stop feeding the fire.

  Jacob’s words were a comfort to her soul. She never planned to tell him, but found it to be a huge release. The tension she’d carried since the incident, slowly faded. She rested her head against his broad shoulder and relished the offered safe-haven. His arm came around her and pulled her tight before he whispered, “Glad you figured it out.”

  Someone had once described love as a feeling of not being able to see your life without that person. She hadn’t been able to fully grasp that idea, until now.

  ***

  Ann stirred from beneath a blanket and tried to turn over but couldn’t. Sandwiched between Ethan and Emily, they’d rolled on each side of her quilt. The fire began to crackle, sending sparks shooting upward in the hearth. The smell of warmth and wood tickled her senses. She stretched her legs and peered over her feet. Jacob had one knee on the floor while his forearm rested on the other. His white t-shirt stretched tight against his muscular back as he positioned each log in place.

  “Psst,” she whispered, “can you help me escape?”

  Jacob looked over his shoulder and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Looks like they have you pinned.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Unable to move her arms Ann blew at the curl of hair tickling her nose. “So are you going to help me?”

  Jacob’s smile looked devious. “Sure.”

  He turned his body to face her while still on his knees. With a hand around each ankle, he pulled her toward him and drug Ann underneath the blanket.

  She laughed quietly when her head was finally exposed and accepted Jacob’s hands as he pulled her to a sitting position.

  “I wouldn’t have done it that way, but I guess it worked.” She still wore a smile as she smoothed back her hair.

  Jacob’s eyes gleamed. “You’re even beautiful when you’re asleep.”

  Stunned, all Ann could do was look up at him. No one had ever told her she was beautiful; cute, yes, even pretty a few times, but never beautiful.

  Jacob gently lifted her left hand and rubbed her empty ring finger. “What will I do with myself when you’re gone, Annie?”

  Her heart felt as if it would burst. She held her breath, wanting the moment to last. “Come and get me to sing to Emily when it storms.”

  “In that case, I’ll be hoping for lots of thunder.” His voice was hoarse and almost sad. “How long will you be in the area?”

  “I really don’t know. The future looks kind of fuzzy right now.”

  Jacob’s eyes held a longing his lips lacked the courage to speak.

  She touched his cheek then returned her hand to his. She had to know, but couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Tell me about your wife.”

  Jacob released her and ran his fingers through his hair. He turned his face to the fire. “She left. What’s more to tell?”

  Ann touched his forearm. “I have feelings for you, Jacob. But before I risk my heart any further, I need to know you.”

  He tilted his head to the side and quirked a familiar smile. He was quiet for a thoughtful moment before he answered. “She claimed she had a nervous breakdown. From what, I honestly don’t know. I thought everything was fine. She gradually withdrew though, until one day she packed up her things and left.”

  “Doesn’t she have any contact with the children?”

  “No.” His jaw tightened. “She did at first. She was gone for three months and finally called, and then it was six months. I believe that call was an attempt to find out if I’d received the divorce papers. The last call was over a year ago. She called to tell me to sign the papers and return them.”

  “Oh.”

  “In the divorce, she willingly gave up custody of our kids.”

  Outside the wind whistled, as if to emphasize the emptiness left in their abandoned hearts.

  Shocked, Ann was at a loss for words. What causes a woman to walk away from her own children?

  “That’s why we don’t have a phone. It was too much, especially for Ethan. Every time it rang, he hoped it was his mom.” Rubbing his chin he added, “I’ve ran it over and over in my head, and I don’t know what I could’ve done different. I think something just snapped, you know, up here.” He tapped his head.

  “Do her
parents still visit the children?”

  “No. They ran after her. In their mind, she’s still their baby who needs nurturing. I stopped trying to understand it. Her mom was always kind of silly, too.”

  Ann looked away. “I’m sorry for you and the children. It must’ve been hard to accept.”

  Jacob cupped her cheek in his hand and looked directly into her eyes. “I don’t dwell on the past, I look to the future.”

  ***

  How am I ever going to let her go?

  The children lay asleep in a tangle of quilts while Ann slept curled up a few feet away. Her hand, still outstretched, held on to Jacob’s. Something always held him back from admitting how he truly felt. His sudden vote of confidence in the field, when he told Ann he wouldn’t back down, surprised him. But, how far would he be willing to take their relationship? She wasn’t at all like his first wife, but he played for keeps, and he couldn’t face another rejection. How could he fully trust any commitment she might admit to?

  A scripture from Hebrews jumped to mind. “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” Faith; that must be what I’m lacking. Something deep inside ached to escape. Was it time for him to open up to God again? Not knowing why, Jacob continued to fight the urge to pray. Stubbornness had become such a part of him it was second nature to put up a wall to any help that might be offered. He nuzzled closer to Ann and slipped off into a fitful sleep.

  Outside, the wind’s howl died to a dull, eerie moan. Jacob and Ann bolted up. He was sure he heard something this time. From the look of fright on Ann’s face, so had she. He froze and listened. It happened again. A horrid screech mixed with a deathlike moan. Chills climbed down his spine.

  Ann paled. Her voice trembled. “Did you hear that? Someone’s screaming!” She raced for the door.

  Jacob reached her before she flung it open and grabbed her shoulders. He forced her to turn and look at him. “Stop and listen. I don’t think it’s someone at all, but some thing.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Although the darkness of night had faded into daylight, the screeching Ann heard remained in her thoughts. She twirled her hair as she sat at the table with Luke. “So you heard it, too?”

  “Yep.” Luke blew over his hot coffee. “I bet it was a female cougar. They’ll scream like that when they’re in heat. Only I didn’t think we had any around. When Jacob contacted the conservation office about the calves, they said the only way we’d have a cougar in these parts is if it was passin’ through. They were adamant there weren’t any females to keep a male around.”

  “Maybe that agent should do some camping in your field.”

  Ann and Luke shared a laugh before his face turned more serious as he changed the subject. “I think Jacob’s taken quite a liking to you.”

  Ann gave Luke her full attention. Her curiosity begged for more information. “Oh?”

  Luke smiled. He must have known he’d hooked her. “Yep. There’s been plenty of women folk try to snag his attention, but he’s never been inclined to give it. In fact, I can think of a few at our church that’s dropped hints and he just brushes them off.” His eyes took on a twinkle. “But, not you, Sunshine. And if my guess is right, he’s the one that’s dropped hints this time.”

  Ann couldn’t suppress her smile. So, Jacob was a sought-after bachelor. What interested her most was the fact he hadn’t pursued any of them. The, now, familiar flush crept up her neck. He had definitely pursued her. But, for all his advances he never pushed her to the extreme, a fact she was grateful for. Because at the rate she was going, she may not make the right decision if it ever came to that.

  God, I’ve not remembered to pray often enough. You’ve brought me through some rough water and for that I’m forever thankful. Please give me the wisdom to use the strength you’ve already supplied me with whenever my flesh is weak. Help me to live for you and edify you in all I do. Amen.

  The peace that settled over her last night, still lingered. Talking with Jacob had relieved her of the burdens that’d weighed her down for the last two months. Who would’ve known the cynical farmer would be the perfect one to talk to?

  The morning passed quickly and left Ann pleased with the children’s eagerness to work with her. Since the creek was up, they weren’t able to go to the Stevenson’s for school. Instead, she schooled them. Though Emily showed more interest in learning than Ethan, he proved himself reliable enough to finish what she assigned him.

  Ann stood from the table and straightened their books. “Okay, time for a break.”

  Ethan flew from his chair. “Whoo-hoo. I’m going outside.”

  “Not without me, you’re not.” Emily tripped around her seat and followed her brother.

  She was Ethan’s constant shadow, though it appeared he was never bothered by her presence. Ann admired him for that, but her heart also sympathized. Many times it appeared he felt the need to take on a more mature role. She credited it to the absence of their mother, and wondered how their lives would be affected if ever that role was filled.

  A clock chimed and brought Ann out of her reflections. Knowing everyone would be hungry at lunch she’d started a roast early that morning. Its smell began to waft through the house and reminded her it was time to add the potatoes and start the vegetables.

  “Wow. Jacob, you’re one efficient farmer.” Ann spoke out-loud to herself as she looked in the cupboard. “Who cans all these colorful vegetables?”

  Had his mother been the one who canned, and who would teach that art to Emily now that she was gone?

  The freezer was also well stocked. After she chose the frozen corn as an accompaniment to the canned green beans, she peeled potatoes. Ann looked through the window above the sink and watched the children run back and forth across the yard. She glanced back and saw Ethan with a shovel. Hmm…I bet that’s why I tripped in a hole my first night here. The thought caused her to smile as she continued to prepare lunch.

  ***

  The water was a rush of torrents as it pushed itself along. Jacob stood near the edge, disheartened the bridge was still intact. It crested that morning, which meant it would be down enough by midday tomorrow he’d be able to take Ann home. With a heavy heart, he turned his attention back to the farm. He had cattle to check and the 180 acres wouldn’t be easy to cover with all the rain they’d received.

  Jacob drove out to the field and spotted a pregnant cow near the fence line. He could tell she wasn’t able to birth the calf on her own. This was always one of the more challenging parts that went with this time of year, herding an expectant cow to the barn. He never had found one to be obliging.

  “I hate pulling calves.” Jacob sighed and turned the truck around. He returned to the barn to open the pen and ready the shoot. He gave a hopeful glance in the direction of the house. If his dad saw him set up the shoot with grain, he would know what it meant and possibly offer his aid.

  The door never opened. Just as well really. Dad won’t be around forever.

  He returned to the field and honked the horn while he drove behind the pregnant cow. He hoped to start her in the direction of the barn. Needless to say, the cow didn’t share his idea. She swung her cumbersome body to the right and plowed through the underbrush that claimed the edge of the field before the terrain dropped to a small ravine.

  Jacob hopped out of the truck and grabbed a long stick. He proceeded to act like a man possessed as he ran about shouting and poking to get the stubborn cow back to the field. As he chased her through what he hoped wasn’t tick-infested under growth, he was reminded of yet another chore to add to his list, brush hogging. When he thought he coaxed the cow in the right direction, she surprised him with a sharp turn and brushed past before she staggered down the steep embankment, sending a cascade of rocks clinking down the ravine.

  Jacob bent over and rested his hands on his knees to catch his breath. As if his time with Ann wasn’t short enough, this cow was determined to compromise it even more. He s
lowly walked to the edge and peered down to judge his next move. The cow stopped half way down the path. Her nostrils flared as she breathed in and out. Jacob shook his head and headed for the truck to grab a good length of rope. If she made it completely down the ravine it would likely be nightfall before the chase ever ended, thus endangering her and the unborn calf. Not wanting to risk the loss of yet another life, he’d have to repel a distance ahead and flush her back up.

  He secured his rope to the nearest tree and slowly repelled down the steep incline. The cow raised her head. She blew angrily and pawed the ground. Jacob held his breath, could this have been a bad decision? Then, as if she were pulled by a lead rope, she backed up. As the path widened, she turned around. Jacob followed a few yards behind. When the cow was finally far enough past the truck, he reclaimed the driver’s seat and drove after her. To any untrained eye, it would have looked as though he were intoxicated, with his constant swerving and speed. But, it was a technique that proved itself time and again.

  As he neared the open pen, Jacob gunned the truck, drove up beside her and blocked the only exit. He switched off the engine and ran after her. Although his feet were slowed as they met the muck and mire of the pen, he was still able to corner her into the head shoot and shut the gate. Retrieving his tools from the truck, he started in on the next step.

  His dad had recently bought a calf-puller, assured it would ease the job of pulling calves on his own. Time wasn’t on Jacob’s side and after losing a few minutes struggling with the tool, he threw it to the ground. Frustrated at its awkwardness, he commenced to using a rope. He tied a bow knot on one end, then searched for the calf’s front hooves and looped it around. He cinched it tight and pulled.

  The calf was lodged in tight. Jacob strained and pulled with more strength. If too much time lapsed, the calf would suffocate and die. That is, if it hadn’t already. The rope was already wrapped around his hand several times; he now added a loop over his shoulder and heaved backward. The calf’s legs slid out. A few more tugs and the large newborn slumped to the ground. It struggled to stand; surprising Jacob it still had breath.