by Linda Ford
Her color heightened. She looked down, slowly folded the little dress, and got to her feet. “If you think I am doing this to make you like me, you are so wrong. I’m doing this because it’s not fair how you’re treating Star, and I want to show her that people can and do care about her.” She pushed past him and headed for the stairs. “Even if her father doesn’t.”
He grabbed her elbow and stopped her escape. “You don’t believe that. I do care about her. I’m trying to do what’s best for her.”
She turned slowly and fixed him with a hard stare. “And how do you expect to explain that to her? ’Cause I can guarantee soon or later she’s going to want to know why her father left her.”
“Charlotte, I don’t want to argue about what I think is best for her.”
“You’re saying it’s none of my business.” She sighed. “You’re right. I have no call to interfere.” She climbed the stairs.
Kody ought to be grateful she’d given up the fight. But for some perverse reason it wasn’t gratitude he felt. He stared at Charlotte’s back. He didn’t like this compliant, passive Charlotte.
Good little Charlotte, meek and mild
Poke her hard and see her smile.
He grinned. He knew one sure way to shake her from her meek and mild state. “Guess you’ll just sit around and wait for Harry to send for you.”
He stopped.
His grin widened as she lifted her chin.
Slowly she turned. “Kody Douglas, you are so wrong. I don’t intend to do any such thing. I’ll have the garments finished by the end of the week and then I expect you to take me to the reservation so I can deliver them. And I will prove to you that you need to take care of your daughter yourself.” She spun around and strode down the hall.
Kody leaned back on his heels and chuckled softly. He loved to see Charlotte all feisty and ready to do battle. A sobering thought failed to quench his smile—her battle seemed to be always with him. It had been from the first. But somehow he didn’t mind. Not that she had a chance of changing his mind. He’d already made that clear.
Kody pinned his note to the board next to the post-office door. “Willing to break horses for a fair price. Buck ’em out or gentle train them. Never been thrown.”
A lanky cowboy sidled up to him and peered at the notice. “Never been throwed, huh? You ought to go by the Cartwell place. He’s got a rank horse there. He’s promised twenty bucks to anyone who can ride him.”
Twenty dollars would buy a pair of little shoes and add some to his travel fund. “Cartwell, you say? They the ranch back in the hills?”
“Cross the river and up the trail.” He shifted to look at Kody more carefully.
Kody stiffened, hoping the man wasn’t going to create a scene in the post office.
“Say, I’ll bet you’re Kody Douglas.”
Kody looked the other man up and down. Tall, slightly bow-legged, with a twinkle in his blue eyes. “Do I know you?”
“Don’t suppose you do. I married Bess Macleod. She told me about you. Jed Hawkes.” He shoved out his hand.
Kody shook it. “Nice to meet you.” What a pleasant change to be welcomed.
Jed pushed aside a couple of notices. “Old Lady Murphy is looking for a man again.”
“The Widow Murphy? I can’t believe she’s still alive. I thought she was old as Methuselah when I was a kid.” He read the notice aloud. “‘Need hardworking man willing to stay a spell. Top wages. Bonuses.’ She really pay top wages?”
“Hear she pays good but not many men willing to stay.”
“Why’s that?”
“She’s mighty particular that things are done exactly as they’ve been done for the past fifty years. She don’t hold much for letting the men have days off. And on top of it, she lives so far back it’s a hard ride to town. Man ends up stuck there with little to amuse ’im. Most just don’t stay.”
Kody studied the notice. It sounded like his kind of place, except for one thing—he needed to be close to town so he could help with Pa’s care and see his folks were doing okay.
And he wasn’t averse to seeing more of little Miss Charlotte, especially when she wasn’t meek and mild. After she left, after Pa was doing better…well, he wouldn’t need a job, because he’d be on his way to Canada again.
Chapter Ten
Charlotte glanced to the backseat of the car at the boxes of supplies they carried. The shirt and two dresses were finished. They had turned out rather well, she thought. She hoped the Eaglefeather family would receive them gladly.
Kody borrowed his pa’s car for this trip to the reservation. “Car’s faster than horseback and I want to be back in good time.”
They bounced along, breathing in dust and hot air. “Sure could use rain,” Charlotte said. The reservation was in the hills beyond irrigation and bereft of any sort of advantage.
“Yup.”
He sounded cheerful, almost pleased with life. And she couldn’t figure out why. She’d warned him yet again she had one goal—to persuade him to be a father to his little girl. But rather than being annoyed or defensive, he seemed almost glad about it, which made her wonder if he was up to something. She shifted so she could study him, hoping to get a clue.
“What?” he asked.
“What what?”
“You’re staring.”
She jerked her attention back to the road. “Sorry.”
“Did you want to ask something?”
“No. Well, now that you mention it…why are you being so pleasant about this?”
“About what?”
She didn’t miss the flash of amusement in his eyes. “You know I intend to make you change you mind.”
He chuckled. “As I already told you, that will be impossible.” He waggled his eyebrows. “But it’s kind of fun to see you try.”
She flicked him a warning look. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
He laughed and slapped the steering wheel. “Like I said…” He slowed as they passed a spindly group of trees. “Isn’t that smoke?”
“Looks like someone has set up camp.”
“They shouldn’t leave a fire unattended.”
She saw a flash and followed it. “Someone’s there.” A face peeked around a rock. The man saw the car and ducked out of sight. She laughed. “It’s Ratface. And there’s Shorty trying to hide behind a tree.”
“I expect they’re up to no good.”
“They sure have a lot of junk scattered about.”
They passed the camp and Charlotte turned her attention back to the road.
“I don’t like them hanging about,” Kody said.
“At least they aren’t bothering us.”
He grunted. “I hope it stays that way.”
For several days Charlotte had tried to think of convincing words to present to Kody, something to make him see how much Star needed him. She knew without a doubt how the child would feel as bits of truth came out, and they would. She had prayed for guidance. But they were only a few miles from their destination and still she had no idea what she should say. But if she didn’t say something soon, she’d have to wait until after their visit.
“Where did you meet Star’s mother?”
“On the reservation. Winnoa had been fathered by a soldier. She had light eyes and freckles and knew what it felt like to be an outcast. I guess we gravitated toward each other because of our common half-breed status.”
“Winnoa. What a lovely name. So you married and lived on the reservation?”
His short burst of laughter rang with bitterness. “We ran away and got married and tried to find work with anyone who would hire me. One half-breed is bad enough. Two is more than most people want to deal with.”
“Did Star’s birth have anything to do with her death?” Maybe he blamed the baby and, despite his best intentions, that affected his attitude toward his daughter.
“No. She got some kind of infection and…” He shrugged.
So he didn’t blame Star. Hesi
tantly she asked, “Did you take her to a doctor?”
“He couldn’t do anything to help her.”
She exhaled noisily. And he couldn’t blame her death on a doctor who refused to treat a half-breed. “Did you love her very much?”
He grinned at her. “What I loved most about her was she was a half-breed like me. That’s about all we had in common.”
For some reason his statement made Charlotte grin so widely she looked out the side window to hide her face. Not that she had anything in common with him. Mentally she listed their differences: he had the love of parents, yet it didn’t seem to count, whereas she would do anything to make Harry continue to love her; Kody claimed to have left the faith he’d embraced as a child, and she clung to it for dear life; she thought he should be involved as a father to Star, and he seemed to think he should pretend he wasn’t her father; and most of all, he was headed for Canada and she waited for Harry to send for her.
Yet none of those facts stopped her from being glad neither of them meant to move on yet.
The reservation came into view. Kody pulled to a stop in front of the Eaglefeathers’ home. John and Morning waved. Star sat contentedly in John’s arms.
Charlotte turned to see if Kody’s face revealed any emotion at seeing his daughter held by another man. She thought she caught a flash of surprise, which he quickly masked. He hesitated a heartbeat before he opened the door. She could only pray he’d begun to see what he stood to lose by pretending Star wasn’t his daughter.
John reached Kody’s side and shook his hand. “Welcome, my friend. Star, say hello to Kody and Miss Charlotte.”
“Hello.” She had such an innocent huskiness to her voice. “He here with that lady before. She like my baby.”
Morning welcomed them, then Kody opened the back door. “We brought you a few things.” He pulled out a box.
No one moved. Charlotte feared the gifts offended their pride.
“Allow me to do something while I can.” Kody’s gaze lingered on Star.
John nodded and Kody carried the box to the house.
Morning followed. “It is very generous of you, Kody.” She rested her hand on his arm. “We accept.” She paused. “I understand how you need to feel you give something.” She examined the contents of the box—oatmeal, oats, flour, canned goods.
Kody didn’t move. A casual observer might think he was watching Morning lift out the items, but Charlotte stood where she could see his face and saw he looked past Morning, his eyes bleak, empty. It was as if Morning’s words sucked away his determination, his so-called good reasons, and left him with nothing to replace them.
He spun back to the car to get the second box.
John stood in his way. “I’ll get it.” He handed Star to Kody.
Charlotte felt his hesitation more than she saw it. For a moment she thought he would refuse, then Star leaned toward Kody and he had no choice but to raise his arms and take his daughter. Emotions raced across his face—resistance, then surprise, then pleasure, as Star stared into his face with intent concentration. “What do you see, little one?” he asked.
“You.”
He laughed. “Am I okay?”
She nodded. “You okay.”
“Why, thank you.” Kody’s voice deepened.
John returned with a box and stopped to look at the pair. Morning straightened to watch them. Charlotte guessed the other two were as aware as she was that something special took place before their eyes. Kody would deny it, but he certainly had to feel it.
He glanced up, saw her watching him. “Let’s see what else we have.”
Charlotte nodded, went to get her own parcel from the back and opened it. She handed the dress to Morning, the shirt to John.
John grinned widely. “Nice shirt.”
“Thank you.” Morning spoke softly, shyly.
“And for you, little miss.” Charlotte held out the dress, anxious to see Star’s reaction.
Star’s eyes grew wide. “For me?” She demanded to be put down. Kody did so, reluctantly, Charlotte thought, and kept his hands at her back until she balanced on her uneven legs. She held the dress before her. “Look, Momma. Just for me.” Then she folded it into a rough bundle and pressed it to her chest.
Charlotte blinked back tears. She dared not look at Kody.
She had one more thing to give Star. A rag doll. Mrs. Douglas made them for Christmas gifts for the Sunday school. She’d helped Charlotte make this one. Charlotte had given the doll black yarn hair and braided it. She’d made dark brown eyes, rather than black, to match Star’s. She’d made a little dress out of scraps from Star’s dress.
She held the doll out to Star.
“Ooh, a new baby.” Star handed her dress to Kody so she could take the doll. She examined it carefully, then sighed and cradled it close. “I love my baby. I love her forever.”
“What do you say, Star?” Morning prompted her.
Star turned to Charlotte. “I love you very, very much.”
Charlotte smiled even as her eyes filled with tears. What a precious child.
Star turned to Kody. “I love you very, very much, too.”
Kody looked as if someone had put him through the wringer and hung him to dry.
“You should say, ‘Thank you,’” Morning corrected.
Charlotte laughed. “That’s better than a thank-you.”
Kody turned away and stared out at the dry hills.
Charlotte took a step toward him, but Morning stopped her. “You know about…?” She dipped her head toward Star.
“I know.”
“That is good. But it is best to let Kody work things out in his own way.”
Charlotte nodded and allowed Morning to lead her to the house, where she helped prepare lunch. However, she had no intention of sitting around waiting for Kody to do things in his own way. Because his way meant riding away from this special child.
They sat in the shade of the little house and ate a simple meal, drank copious amounts of tea and visited.
Star played at their feet, enjoying her new doll. She took the dress off and wrapped the doll in a scrap of material, then dressed it again. She examined the doll’s feet for several minutes until Charlotte wondered if she should do something.
She turned her attention to Kody, who couldn’t seem to stop watching the child. And she prayed he would be moved to reconsider his decision.
“Too bad about your foot,” Star murmured to the doll.
Charlotte shifted her gaze back to Star. The impact of what the little girl had done would have knocked Charlotte backward if she wasn’t sitting pressed to the wall. Instead, the sight hit her with the force of a dust storm, sucking at her lungs, stinging her eyes, echoing in her brain with the power of thunder over her head, reverberating through her with resounding waves.
Star had tied one cloth foot of the doll back with a thread. She cuddled the doll for a moment, making soothing noises. “It doesn’t matter. I love you and you can still walk.” She walked the doll around her in a limp that couldn’t be disguised or explained away.
The wind made a sighing sound around the cabin, pulled at Charlotte’s hair and tugged her scalp. The sun beat brittle light around them, flashing bright lights in Star’s dark hair, drawing sharp angles across her face, giving her an older, more mature, more careworn look.
Charlotte ached to jump up and break the thread crippling the doll, but her limbs refused to do her bidding. She sat riveted to her perch.
“I fix it for you,” Star said, and broke the thread, freeing the bent foot. “See, all better.” In her hands, the doll danced and jumped.
Charlotte sucked in the hot air, heavy with so much sorrow, so much unnecessary pain. This child was made for loving even if her foot couldn’t be fixed. Certainly John and Morning loved her unconditionally. Otherwise she wouldn’t be such a happy, outgoing child. But she deserved more. The love of grandparents who would dote on this child. The love of her only living parent to carry her th
rough the tough times ahead.
She shifted her gaze away from the wonder and pain and amazement of Star to Kody. An expert at masking his emotions, he hadn’t been able to hide the pain of seeing Star act out the truth of her crippled foot. His eyes were wide, darker than the blackest of night. His mouth pulled to a hard line.
How could he pretend this child didn’t need him? How long before her sweet innocence turned sour? About as long as it took her to overhear some of the remarks already said regarding her. About as long as it took for her to realize she’d been abandoned. How could Kody not see how she would feel?
Charlotte shook her head. There had to be a way she could convince him to reconsider his decision and save such needless pain.
Star struggled to her feet. Watching her limp toward Morning on her crooked foot filled Charlotte with fresh, pulsating pain.
Star leaned against Morning’s knees. “Jesus will make my leg better when I see Him.” She nodded, her eyes questioning.
Morning brushed her hand over Star’s head. “In heaven you will run and jump like a deer.” Her voice was soft and reassuring.
Star nodded. “I like that.”
Kody watched Star, as did Charlotte. As the child moved away, he shifted. Their gazes brushed and stalled. She saw the tightness around his eyes, the way he pulled his mouth in as if he could contain his feelings, perhaps even deny them.
She’d hoped for, prayed for, something to change his mind, but she hadn’t hoped for the pain she saw etched in his face. His pain became her pain, knifing into her heart with cruel abandon. She pressed her palm to her chest as if she could end it. She lifted her other hand toward Kody, wanting to end his suffering.
He sucked in a noisy gust of air, blinked, and suddenly his mask fell into place again, his eyes grew cool and indifferent, his mouth a mocking smile.
But she knew what she’d seen.
Chapter Eleven
Kody patted his pocket. He’d been to the Cartwell ranch. He’d clung to the back of that rank horse until they both knew he couldn’t be thrown. He’d earned the twenty bucks. His first stop—the post office, where he intended to order those special shoes for Star.