In His Touch: Blemished Brides Book 2

by Peggy L Henderson

  “How long have you lived out here all alone?” he tried again.

  “Going on a year now,” she answered, her voice hollow.

  “From what I saw, that barn of yours looks like it burned,” Cade prodded. His gaze didn’t waver from hers. She darted quick glances toward the front door several times before resting back on him. She looked like she wanted to bolt at any second.

  “It did,” she finally said. “Noah was in it, trying to save what he could.” She ran a hand across her cheek. “A beam fell on him. I tried, but there was nothing I could do to save him.” Her voice cracked.

  Cade broke eye contact. The pain in those soft hazel eyes of hers brought back painful memories of his own past. He gnashed his teeth, and took a swallow of his coffee, cursing silently.

  “Those men from yesterday, they’re the same ones who shot at me. Who are they, Mrs. Engelman?”

  “I told you to call me Laura.”

  “Who are they?” His question was spoken with more force than he’d intended. “Why are they bothering you?”

  Laura sat up straighter. Her hands rested on the table in front of her, her fingers tightly entwined. She inhaled an audible breath.

  “They’re hired men, just trying to stir up trouble. Things haven’t gotten out of hand like this before.”

  “Who do they work for?” Cade locked his gaze on her, his words slow and adamant.

  Laura shook her head. “It’s really none of your concern, Cade. It doesn’t matter.”

  Cade leaned forward, glaring at her. “Who do they work for, Laura?” The pulse at his temple throbbed, and his chest stung from the tension in his muscles. He’d give up Cloud if he hadn’t recognized one of those riders from yesterday. The grandfather clock in the other room ticked loudly.

  Laura shook her head again. “His name is Jack Ki-”

  The front door burst open, squeaking loudly on its hinges, and Cade gripped the fork in his hand until his knuckles turned white.

  “Cade, Cade.” Jonah dashed into the room, and came to a skidding halt in front of him. “You’re awake.” The little boy beamed at him with a bright smile. “This time you’re all better, right?”

  Cade forced a smile. The name Laura had uttered just a moment ago still rang in his ears. He didn’t even need to hear a last name.

  “Yeah, I think this time I’m all better,” he said absently.

  “Miss Laura’s been letting me help with the milking, and feeding the chickens.”

  Cade shot a hasty glance toward Laura, who still sat quietly opposite him. She looked pale. He stood. All plans of leaving the next day had vanished in the blink of an eye.

  Chapter Seven

  Laura poured hot water from the kettle into the washbowl she’d set on the kitchen table. A full bath would be nice, but it had been more than a week since she’d indulged in such a luxury. Since Cade and Jonah’s arrival, she’d had no privacy. Regardless of their presence, she refused to give up her need for cleanliness.

  The days had been rather warm lately, and the perspiration from covering up her head and neck made every speck of dust stick to her skin. Had she been alone, she wouldn’t have needed to constantly wear her shawl or a bonnet. She’d chastised herself many times over for feeling self-conscious, but if she didn’t cover up, the sincere smiles and looks of admiration and even affection she’d received from Jonah would turn into looks of disgust and perhaps even fear. She’d experienced it too many times, so she’d made sure to keep herself hidden.

  Laura glanced out the kitchen window. The dark night sky had just begun to turn gray, and a faint orange glow emerged from behind the mountains. It was barely dawn, which would give her some time to enjoy a long wash. Each night before going to bed, she rinsed her face with a quick swipe of a washcloth dipped in cold water, but this morning, she’d made a point to get up before the rooster crowed to heat water for a warm washing.

  Jonah usually slept well past sunup, when Cade would come into the house for breakfast. At least, that had been the routine the last few mornings. Although he’d said in front of Sally that he only planned to stay one more night, it had been easy to persuade him to remain at the farm longer. Perhaps he’d concluded that he still needed to rest to allow his wound to heal properly, or maybe he saw how much Jonah seemed to enjoy himself.

  When he’d mentioned that he’d planned on leaving, her heart had sunk to the ground. She’d grown fond of Jonah, and if she was completely honest, having someone else around brought her comfort. She’d obviously been lonelier than she’d realized.

  Laura laughed softly. Not that Cade was the kind of man who would be around for long, but there was something about him that drew her to him. His appearance might be unkempt, but his manners weren’t those of a drifter. He was polite and respectful under that rough exterior. He hadn’t pressed her for any more information about Jack or his men. As soon as he’d finished breakfast that morning after Sally’s visit, he’d taken his saddlebags to the barn, and made himself a place to sleep in one of the stalls that still offered some shelter, where the roof hadn’t completely collapsed.

  “You don’t have to move out of the house,” Laura had said when he slung his bags over his good shoulder.

  He’d stared at her, his dark eyes haunted, as if he was seeing someone else when he looked at her.

  “Jonah can take the room, Miss Laura, and you can move back into your own bed. It’s only proper. I’m already indebted to you for our upkeep.” His tone hadn’t left room for arguments, and Laura had simply nodded.

  Over the next couple of days, Cade had taken it upon himself to mend pasture fences that needed repair, a railing on the porch, the squeaky windmill blades, and various other things that she hadn’t been able to keep up with by herself. Sally’s husband had come by and helped on occasion, but he and Sally had their own place to run.

  Laura had helped Cade with the more strenuous tasks, ignoring his protests that he could do the work on his own. She’d simply glared at him, and reminded him that his wound would never heal if he didn’t curb his stubborn attitude.

  He’d taken over feeding and watering the horses and the few cattle she had left, and waved her off when she’d told him there was no need for him to do all the work. He’d told her in no uncertain terms that he had to pay her back somehow for taking care of him and Jonah.

  Their conversations had been polite, yet reserved. She’d kept her curiosity about him to herself. Judging by the ease in which he tackled each project, he’d done plenty of farm and ranch work, and knew about horses and cattle. He’d started his days early in the morning, and didn’t stop until she called him for the noon and evening meals. He’d allowed her to check and change his bandage, and smiled indulgently when she’d chastised him about pushing himself too hard and not letting his wound heal. Through his quiet demeanor, there was also a fierce intensity to his eyes, as if there was something deeply troubling on his mind.

  “Is Jonah your son?” she’d blurted last evening, after putting away the supper dishes. She’d followed Cade outside to enjoy the cool evening breeze after a warm day. The way she’d observed him speaking to the boy, always patient, and always teaching, brought a longing ache to her heart.

  Cade had stopped on his way down the porch, turned, and looked at her with searching eyes. It had been clear to her that he wasn’t a man who wanted to speak about his past, or the secrets he harbored. Her question had come out before she’d even realized that she’d asked.

  Crickets chirped in the nearby grasses, and a coyote yipped in the distance. Laura hugged her arms around her middle, about to apologize for her question.

  “He’s my son,” Cade had finally said. Slowly, he’d walked back up the steps toward her, his eyes on her.

  Laura backed up a step. She shook her head slightly and her heart rate increased. “I’m not trying to pry.”

  A hint of a smile had formed on his lips. “You have a right to pry,” he’d said, stopping just inches from her. Laura had
to tilt her head to look into his eyes. “Even though you’re better off not knowing most things about me, I’ll answer your next question,” he’d said in a low tone. “Yes, his mother was Indian. A Piegan Blackfoot.”

  Laura held his challenging stare. “Was?” she’d whispered, and swallowed. Her mouth had gone dry.

  “She . . . died shortly after Jonah was born. He didn’t even have a name at the time.” Despite the beard that covered his cheeks and jaw, his muscles had visibly tensed.

  “Why was he raised in an orphanage?” Laura locked her gaze on his. Now that he’d started talking, her curiosity had piqued.

  Cade ran a hand across his face. “Because there was no one else to raise him,” he said, then abruptly turned, and rushed down the porch steps, heading for the barn.

  Laura had opened her mouth to call him back, when Jonah had come from the house, and told her he was ready for bed. So many more questions rushed through her. Why hadn’t Cade told his own son that he had a father? No matter how much she’d wanted to go after the man who’d become more of a mystery with each passing day, and press him for a better explanation, she’d smiled at Jonah, and ushered him back into the house.

  The boy hadn’t directly asked, but telling her he was ready for bed had been his way of asking her to read to him like she’d done each night. She couldn’t deny him. At least for a while, she could pretend that she had the kind of life she’d always dreamed of, and a child to care for.

  Tears filled her eyes. She’d lost so much nearly a year ago. Swiping a hasty hand across her cheek, Laura pinned her rope of braided hair to the top of her head. If she wanted to wash this morning, she’d better do it before the water cooled. She hesitated, then touched the right side of her face.

  The tips of her fingers grazed the unnatural leathery bumps and contours of the scars close to her hairline, which were her constant reminder of all that she had lost. With her left hand, she mimicked the movements of her right. Her left forefinger traced her normal earlobe, while her right hand met only a thick bump that once had been her right ear. Her hairline began much further back on this side than it did on the other.

  By the time her fingers reached the neckline of her nightgown, her hand trembled, and she struggled with undoing the top buttons. She rarely touched herself like this. It brought back too many memories of that day, screaming in terror when Noah fell to the ground in the barn, which quickly changed to screams of pain when the burning chunk of wood hit the side of her head.

  Laura sniffed, and pulled her hand away. She swirled her fingers in the steamy water before she reached for her bar of soap and lathered a washcloth. There was no sense dwelling on the past. She closed her eyes to shut out the images. She ran the washcloth over her face and down her neck, pushing the edge of her gown over and down her good shoulder. The warm water soothed her sudden tense muscles, and she hummed a quiet lullaby.

  Behind her, boots shuffled loudly on the wooden floor. Laura gasped and spun around. Her hip bumped into the side of the table, sending water sloshing out of the washbasin. She hastily groped at her nightgown, pulling it up her arm.

  “My apologies. I thought you heard me come in. I didn’t mean to startle . .” Cade said from just outside the kitchen. His voice trailed off.

  With her heart pounding in her ears, Laura fumbled for a towel, anything, to cover her head. She grabbed the pins that held her braid on top of her head, pulling her hair down and over the right side of her face to prevent him from seeing her ugly scars.

  Her eyes widened when he slowly moved into the kitchen. She stared in disbelief. It had been Cade’s voice that had spoken, but the man who stepped toward her looked nothing like him. No longer bushy-faced, he was clean shaven, revealing a square jaw, firm lips, and perhaps the most handsome face she’d ever gazed upon. Her momentary surprise, which held her immobile, was short-lived. She pulled her gaze from his, and stumbled toward the counter where she’d left her towel.

  “What are you doing here so early?” she stammered, turning away from him so he couldn’t see. Part of her still groped for understanding as to his change in appearance.

  “I was hoping to get an early start on the day, and get the fire going in your stove.”

  Laura held her breath. She squeezed her eyes shut for a split second and pressed her lips together. He was right behind her. There was no possible way he couldn’t have seen her. The perfect week, of not having someone look at her with pity and disdain, was coming to an end.

  She flinched, and stiffened, when a pair of warm hands wrapped around her upper arms, and tugged on her to turn.

  “Please, I . . . need some privacy to get dressed,” she stammered.

  “You’re covered enough, Laura,” he whispered against her neck, his sensual tone sending shivers down her spine. “I think it’s time you stopped hiding away.”

  A burst of anger replaced her apprehension. She spun around fully. People’s reactions to her had forced her to stay away. It hadn’t been her doing.

  “I’m not hiding,” she said in a forceful tone, and stared up at him. A feeling of sinking, of drowning in Cade’s dark eyes immobilized her from pulling away from his hold on her arms. He looked so different without his beard; years younger and less hardened and unapproachable.

  “Then stop covering yourself unless you’re out working in the sun,” he said. “There’s no reason for it when you’re in the house.”

  He didn’t look at her with scorn or disgust. He didn’t even acknowledge the thick scar running down the side of her face, or the fact that much of her earlobe was missing.

  “You don’t understand,” she said, shaking her head. She took a step back, and he released her.

  “No, I guess I don’t,” he drawled slowly.

  Laura laughed curtly. “I know you can see why I cover my head. You’re not blind, and there’s certainly enough light in here for a clear view.” Her voice rose to cover up her embarrassment. “You should have knocked before barging into the house.”

  Cade answered with a laugh of his own. “First off, I didn’t barge in. I didn’t expect you to be awake. I came in to get your stove ready for the day. Second.” The grin left his face. He took a step closer, staring straight at her. “You’re right. I ain’t blind. What I see is a beautiful woman in front of me, hiding away because, maybe, some ignorant fool made a remark about, what appears to be, the result of a bad accident.” He paused, and his eyes narrowed in a challenge. “Care to tell me about it? Or should I wager a guess that you’re one hell of a lucky woman who didn’t die in that barn fire, like your husband?”

  Chapter Eight

  Cade stared into Laura’s wide eyes. Her complete look of fear forced him closer. She couldn’t be afraid of him, simply because he’d walked into the house unexpectedly. He’d done the same thing every morning since he’d moved to the barn. The only difference, this time, was that he’d shown up a lot earlier. He’d been just as surprised as she was, finding her in the kitchen in nothing but her nightdress.

  His jaw muscles tightened. He should have immediately turned heel and walked back out the door. The sight of her, with her shoulder bared, and without her usual head covering, had left him rooted to the spot. He’d instantly seen the reason why she covered herself.

  Looking at her profile from the left, and even at an angle, she was a lovely woman. The right side of her face along her temple, however, bore a large scar that could have only come from burns. It ran the length of her face, along her hairline, extended down her neck and disappeared under the collar of her dress. Most of her right earlobe was missing. Cade shuddered at the excruciating pain such an injury would have caused.

  He’d suspected, since the day of Sally’s visit, that her reason for covering up was to hide some sort of injury, but he hadn’t quite been prepared for this. Not that it mattered. Something tightened in his chest at the sight of her. Laura Engelman was a strong woman in character, perhaps the strongest he’d ever met. She bore the visible scars of
a terrible and terrifying ordeal, and from her outward demeanor, gave no indication of her vulnerability.

  Those eyes looking up at him now told a different story, however. While the physical pain from the accident was most likely long gone, her invisible scars festered and bled.

  Cade clenched his jaw.

  They both had physical reminders of the ones they’d lost. His loss, however, hadn’t been because of an accident. He had a son to keep the memory of his lost love alive. Laura’s reminder was harsh, and cruel.

  Even with the death of her husband, she hadn’t crumbled. If anything, the ordeal had only strengthened her in some ways. From the bits and pieces of the conversation with Sally he’d overheard, and what that scum from the other day had said, folks in town looked at her differently because of her injuries, and not in a favorable way.

  He scoffed silently. Folks tended to fear things, or people, they didn’t understand or who were different from them. Some even reacted with hatred. He’d seen that firsthand.

  His hand reached up, and his fingers grazed the side of her cheek. Her soft skin against his work-roughened fingers was like satin to the touch. The fleeting image of another woman blurred his vision, then vanished as Laura shifted away from him.

  Cade cleared his throat. He dropped his hand, blinked, and mentally shook his head. It had been a long time since a woman had taken hold in his mind. The last time, he’d been nothing but a wet-eared kid who’d let others tell him what to do. When he’d decided to follow his heart, it had cost someone’s life.

  Four long years in prison had replaced images of the girl he’d loved with a blinding need for revenge. After tracking down the whereabouts of his son, that need had grown and festered even stronger. Almost losing Jonah again the other day had given him pause about what he’d been itching to do since the cell door had been slammed shut in his face. If he carried out his plans, he wouldn’t get away with a simple prison sentence, and Jonah would end up right back at the orphanage.