Posey and Maggie were the only women at the gathering of friends, which wasn’t unusual since the number of men in the area far outnumbered women.
Ian, Tully, one of his deputies, Thane, and a few of Thane’s ranch hands who attended the church service were gathered at Posey’s place. Tad noticed all the men offered friendly attention to both widows, although Tully appeared to be the only one paying particular interest to Posey.
When the sheriff bent down and whispered something in Posey’s ear, Tad sprang out of his seat. He marched across the yard to where the two of them stood near a table holding refreshments.
“Hey, Sheriff, have you had any leads on the men who stole Mr. Mason’s barber’s pole?” Tad asked, thumping his hand on Tully’s back and drawing the man’s attention away from Posey.
Tully turned his head and gave Tad a puzzled look before responding. “No. I haven’t.”
“It’s ridiculous that someone would steal Mr. Mason’s barber’s pole. What on earth would anyone want with it?” Posey asked, looking from Tully to Tad. Tension pulsed between the two men, although the cause of it remained a mystery.
Clearly uncomfortable, Posey glanced over at the food table and noticed Nate about to make himself sick by eating too many sweet treats. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” she said, rushing over to her son.
Tully gave Tad one more glance and then tipped his head to him. “Palmer.”
“Sheriff.” Tad’s voice sounded tight and strained as he spoke. It was all he could do to keep from punching Tully in the nose when the man sauntered over to where Posey made Nate choose from the array of desserts on his plate.
The sheriff hunkered down and said something to the little boy that made him smile broadly. Nate grabbed two cookies, shoved the rest of the sweets on his plate at his mother, and sauntered off with Tully.
Annoyed with the man for charming Posey and Nate, Tad tried to tamp down his jealousy. He had no right to be upset, no reason to be angry.
Posey was free to choose any man she wanted to court. Tully Barrett was an honorable, upright, good person who’d make a solid husband and a kind father. But the very notion of anyone other than him wooing Posey and filling a fatherly role with Nate made Tad see red.
If a possibility existed to tuck Nate in of an evening and hold Posey all through the night, Tad wanted the job.
On the verge of losing his temper, he strode over to where Posey stared down at the plate Nate had filled with slices of pie and cake and took if from her hands. He grabbed a fork and viciously jabbed a bite, holding it out to her.
Surprise flickered across her face as she accepted a forkful of lemon meringue pie from him. Tad cut off a huge bite and stuffed it in his mouth. Despite his irritation, the burst of citrus flavor and sweetness filled his mouth and he glanced down at the pie in appreciation. “Did you make this?” he asked after he chewed and swallowed.
Posey nodded. “Yes. Maggie made the canned cherry pie and the layer cake. I made the lemon meringue pie and chocolate pie.”
“It’s really good, Posey,” Tad said, cutting another small bite and holding it out to her.
She took it and gave him a strange look he chose to ignore.
After he finished the lemon pie, he moved on to the piece of cake on the plate. He held a bite out to Posey, but she refused.
He shrugged and ate it, barely tasting the rich, buttery frosting as he watched Posey’s gaze travel to where Tully showed Nate how to load his slingshot with rocks.
No doubt, they all would regret the boy learning how to shoot it, but it kept him occupied, at least momentarily. Nate had been quite distraught to discover Agnes and Spot, the dog, were banned from the yard during their outdoor Easter feast. He’d moped around throughout the meal, despite Tad and Posey’s efforts to engage him. Glad to see him enthusiastic about something, Tad just wished it had been him to put a smile on the child’s face.
Thane joined Tully in showing Nate how to shoot rocks at an old tin can target they set up a few feet away.
“I envision a future of broken windows,” Posey said, drawing Tad’s attention back to her.
He grinned and nodded his head. “Perhaps you can stress the importance of never shooting it at the house, the animals, or you.”
Posey laughed. The sound made his heart flop around in his chest like a floundered fish.
“If you wouldn’t mind giving him that instruction, I’d appreciate it. Nate hangs on your every word.” She poured a cup of punch while Tad finished eating the plate full of sweets.
He didn’t know what possessed him to take it from her, to force her to share a few tastes with him. Thoughts of feeding her bites of dessert drew his gaze to her pink mouth. Not for the first time he wondered at the flavor of her kisses. Would they be sweet and light, or dark and rich? Just contemplating the possibilities made his mouth go so dry, he choked on the bite of cake he attempted to swallow.
Concerned, Posey handed him the cup of punch in her hands. He gulped it down and took a staggering step forward when Tully whopped him on the back with more force than was necessary.
“You okay, Palmer?” Tully asked, giving him another thump for good measure.
“I will be if you don’t loosen something vital,” Tad said, glaring over his shoulder at the sheriff.
Tully stood a little taller than Tad, his shoulders a little broader, but they would have been well matched if they ever came to blows.
Stricken by the direction of his thoughts, Tad couldn’t believe he was actually considering pummeling his friend simply because he’d paid attention to Posey.
Any single man with eyes in his head would have been hard pressed not to notice how stunning she looked in a dress the color of ripening peaches. That particular shade brought out golden flecks in her warm brown eyes. The sunshine gliding across her hair made it glisten like spun gold.
Posey Jacobs was a very beautiful, desirable woman. One Tad could not get out of his system no matter how hard he tried.
Truth to tell, he didn’t really want to.
But every time he thought about confessing his feelings to her, he’d think about John, about the promise he made to his friend. He owed it to John to watch over Posey. To protect her, to shelter her, to make sure she and Nate were well provided for. He couldn’t help it if he’d fallen in love with her in the process.
Who could blame him for falling for the woman with her appealing curves, tender heart, and ability to make his day brighter just by gifting him with a smile.
Tad swallowed a groan of misery and forked a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Are you sure you’re well, Tad?” Posey asked, placing a delicate hand on his arm.
“I’m fine. Just fine,” he said, moving away from her. He needed a few minutes to gather his composure and calm his temper before he got himself into trouble.
He strode out of the yard and disappeared around the corner of the barn where he could have a few moments of quiet. He leaned back against the side of the barn and closed his eyes, letting the sunshine warm his face and the silence settle the turbulent state of his heart.
“Uncle Tad?” Nate asked, tugging on his pant leg.
“What is it, Nater?” Tad asked, using his nickname for the boy as he slid down the wall until he was on eye level with the boy.
“Are you sad, Uncle Tad?” Nate leaned against him. His eyes, so like his mother’s, filled with worry.
“No, son, I’m just fine. After all, it’s Easter, a day to rejoice and be grateful. Right?”
“That’s what Pastor Eagan said, and he wouldn’t lie,” Nate said, resting against Tad when the man opened his arms to him.
The little boy leaned into his chest and sighed.
Tad lifted Nate in his arms and stood. “What’s wrong, Nater?”
“Nothin’, Uncle Tad. My eyeballs are sleepy.”
Tad hid a smile. “They do that sometimes, don’t they? Why don’t you shut them and give them a little rest? It’s just us men here.
It’s okay if you let them sleep a little bit.”
“Okay, Uncle Tad,” Nate whispered as he nestled his little face against Tad’s neck.
Tad breathed in the combined scents of sunshine, goat, dog, and a whiff of lemon from the piece of pie the boy had eaten.
He took another whiff and grinned, thinking the only thing that smelled better than the little boy in his arms was the woman he longed to hold.
Tad leaned back against the barn and held Nate as he slept. The boy was worn out from a busy day and Tad didn’t mind a few minutes just to hold the child. In the past four years, he’d held Nate plenty. He’d chased away tears, doctored cuts, wiped his nose, helped him learn to walk and talk.
Nate might not be his son by blood, but the boy was the child of his heart. Tad couldn’t have loved him any more if he’d belonged to him from birth.
Posey and Nate were his two great loves and the thing that threatened to rip his heart right out of his chest was the thought that neither one of them would ever belong to him.
Chapter Five
Posey leaned on the handle of the shovel she held in her hands and took a moment to catch her breath. She’d spent the last hour cleaning out the milk cow’s stall in the barn then restoring order in the chicken coop.
While she worked, she kept an eye on Nate. He’d been playing in the side yard with Agnes and Spot, but everything had grown strangely quiet. Nate was nowhere in sight which usually meant trouble was in the making.
Concerned by the type of mischief the little imp had most likely gotten into, she quickly finished working in the chicken coop, set aside the shovel, and went in search of her son. She’d told him to stay in the yard, and he usually minded. She wondered if he’d perhaps moved to the far side or back of the yard, beyond her view.
Hurried steps took her through the gate in the fence surrounding the yard. A fence Tad had insisted on building when Nate had started walking. Although she protested at him providing the materials and labor when he did it, she’d been grateful so many times for the safety the fence had offered for her son while she worked.
As she strolled through the yard she noticed the two kittens playing with a bit of yarn on the steps and the dog lounging nearby.
“Where’s Nate, Spot? Huh, boy?” She spoke to the dog as she walked past him.
The dog lifted his head and cocked one ear then whined, as if to say, “he’s fine.” Reassured if Nate were in danger the dog would be right beside him, she continued around the front of the house.
Although she expected to discover Nate doing something he shouldn’t, she wasn’t quite prepared for the sight that greeted her when she located her son in the back yard.
“What on earth are you doing to poor Agnes, baby?” Posey stifled a giggle as she took in the vision of Agnes in a washtub full of soap bubbles and a drenched Nate scrubbing the goat’s head.
“Giving her a bath. She smells funny.” Nate wrinkled his nose as he rubbed Posey’s perfumed French soap over the goat’s head.
To her credit, Agnes seemed to enjoy the delicate fragrance of the soap and the attention lavished on her from the boy. The goat smiled in bliss as she closed her eyes and basked in the experience.
“Oh, Nate,” Posey said, sinking down on her knees beside the washtub. She hated to see the expensive soap wasted, but the goat certainly appeared to be enjoying it. Nate looked almost as happy as Agnes did and Posey couldn’t bring herself to chastise him. Despite her lofty position as Nate’s favorite pet, Agnes was still a goat and probably had stunk.
“Am I in trouble, Mama?” Nate asked. His hands stilled in their scrubbing as he looked at her with big, earnest eyes.
“No, baby. But next time please use the soap from the kitchen, not Mama’s bath soap.” Posey lathered her hands and scratched along Agnes’ back. If the goat could have purred, Posey thought she might have at that point.
Nate glanced down at the soap, then at his mother. “I’m sorry, Mama. I just wanted Agnes to smell pretty like you.”
Touched by her son’s sweet words and unintentional flattery, Posey nodded. “I know, sweetheart. Just ask next time before you use something of mine, please.”
“Okay, Mama.” Nate returned to scrubbing soap over the goat. Posey helped him rinse Agnes then went inside to make sandwiches for lunch. Since the day was so lovely and warm, she served the meal outside on the porch.
Agnes pranced around the yard, showing off her sparkling clean state to the dog and kittens.
“I think that goat is preening,” Posey muttered, amused by Agnes.
“What’s that mean, Mama?” Nate asked, holding his sandwich with both hands.
“Preening?”
Nate nodded and took a bite of the ham and bread.
“Well, it means to take pride in something. In the case of Agnes, she seems quite proud to be clean.”
“It’s good to be clean and smell nice, isn’t it?”
Posey smiled. “It is, indeed, son. Perhaps you can remember that the next time I tell you it’s time for a bath.”
Nate grinned. “But, Mama, I don’t like getting my ears cleaned.”
“If you don’t clean them, potatoes will sprout in there, then how will you hear anything?” Posey teased.
Nate’s eyes widened and his index finger immediately went to his ear to make sure nothing had taken root.
“Eat your lunch, honey. I’m going to work on a quilt this afternoon while you do some schoolwork. If you work hard, you can have a break and play with Agnes and Spot later. How does that sound?”
“Good,” Nate said, taking the last bite of his sandwich. He tossed a bit of crust to Spot then accepted the cookie Posey handed to him.
Agnes continued parading back and forth across the yard, as though she wanted an audience to see how pretty she looked.
Posey finished her sandwich and wiped her hands on her apron then took Nate’s hand in hers. “Come on, son. I have an idea.”
Nate skipped along beside her as they walked out to the orchard. Fruit trees, heavy with fragrant, lovely blossoms looked bedecked for a fancy party.
“See all those blossoms on the ground, baby?” Posey knelt beside Nate, pointing to pink and white blossoms covering the ground beneath the trees. “Can you gather up a bunch of those blossoms?”
“Sure, Mama!” Nate laughed as he darted through the orchard with Agnes and Spot chasing after him. He pulled his shirt out of the waist of his pants and used it as a makeshift basket to carry the blossoms back to his mother.
Posey took a seat on the grass in a patch of warm sunshine and pulled an ever-present needle and thread from her apron pocket. She tied a knot in the end of the thread then began stitching the blossoms together.
When she had a length that reached about eighteen inches, she tied the two ends of the thread together, creating a circle of blossoms.
“Whatcha gonna do with that?” Nate asked as he watched her work.
“Since Agnes thinks she is a princess today, we’ll give her a crown.”
Nate clapped his hands in excitement and hugged the goat as she stood next to him. Posey carefully settled the wreath of flowers over the goat’s head. Agnes rolled her eyes up, trying to look at the flowers then regally lifted her head.
Puffed up with pride, the little goat high-stepped her way out of the orchard and made her way to the house, eager to show the kittens her fragrant crown.
“That is the strangest goat,” Posey said, rising to her feet and taking Nate’s hand in hers.
“Agnes isn’t strange, Mama. She’s just a girl. Uncle Tad says all girls like to be pretty. Maybe Agnes likes being clean and smelling nice.” Nate took a few hops then resumed skipping beside his mother.
“What else does Uncle Tad say about girls?” Posey asked, far more interested in what Tad shared with her son than in any conversation regarding the goat’s new infatuation with perfume and flowers.
Nate rubbed a finger over his chin, deep in thought. “Well, he said girls are
delicate and I have to be careful not to be too rough with them. And he said girls are just as smart as boys, sometimes smarter. He told me that girls cry sometimes just because.”
“I see,” Posey said, forcing herself not to smile. Tad had indeed paid attention to girls. “Did he say anything else?”
“Um…” Distracted by a bird sitting on a fence post, Nate stared at it for several seconds before turning back to his mother. “I heard him tell the sheriff that his sister had a steel back covered in lace and ribbons.”
“A steel back?” Posey glanced at Nate.
Nate poked Posey along her spine. “I asked him how she got a steel back and he said it was the bone that runs from your neck to your…”
“I get the idea, son.” Posey took his hand in hers again as they moseyed toward the house.
“Does his sister really have steel in her back?”
Posey shook her head. “I believe what Tad meant was that his sister is a very strong individual.”
Nate took on a dubious expression. “Can she pack big sacks of feed?”
Posey laughed. “Probably not, baby. I didn’t refer to physical strength, but moral and mental fortitude.”
Nate gave her another confused look then he returned to skipping along beside her. “Uncle Tad said you’re strong and beautiful.”
Warmed by the thought Tad had said such nice things about her to Nate, Posey smiled. “Oh, he did, did he?”
“Yep. Uncle Tad likes you almost as much as Agnes likes me!” Nate ran ahead, giggling as Agnes marched up and down the porch railing.
“We see you, Agnes, dear, and you look lovely.” Posey gave the goat a pat on her back as she walked past her. Quickly gathering their lunch things, Posey washed them while Nate got out his school papers.
Posey opted to work with him at home one more year before she sent him off to school. For an hour or two each day, they worked on numbers and letters. Nate had memorized the entire alphabet. He could also write his name and several simple words, and count up to fifty.
Together, they sat down at the table and spent the next hour going over Nate’s spelling words and working on basic math problems.
Tad's Treasure (Grandma's Wedding Quilts Book 12) Page 5