by Stacy Henrie
When it was time for the pastor to speak, Jennie sat up straight and tried to concentrate. But as he entreated the congregation to love their neighbors, she felt a flash of irritation. As if any of the people here had showed any love or concern for her family in the past few years. They’d all but forgotten the Joneses.
Turning her head, she stole glances at those across the aisle from her. Several of the families were familiar. A few stared back, suspicion plain on their faces. Most of those who met her eye, though, did so with curious but friendly expressions.
At last the pastor finished his sermon and announced the final hymn, one of her father’s favorites. The throaty tones of the small organ filled the room as a middle-aged woman rose to lead the group in song. Caleb extended an open hymnal toward her, and Jennie took the other end. Their fingers touched beneath the book before they both scooted their hands to the outside edges.
This time she sang along with the rest of the congregation, enjoying Caleb’s deep baritone and her grandmother’s sweet soprano. The music and the singing rose in volume with each verse, and something inside Jennie responded.
A feeling of love and warmth began at her heart and spread outward, reminding her of the way she’d felt when her father would sing or play his harmonica for them at night. How she missed him and his music. If she could see him, talk to him, would he praise her efforts to save the ranch he loved or would he lament her decisions?
Tears of regret blurred the words on the page, and her throat could no longer sing out the notes. Jennie passed the hymnal to Caleb and clasped her hands together as she pushed at the worn, wood floor with the toe of her boot. She was a hypocrite, judging her neighbors for their past actions when her present ones were perhaps just as erroneous.
The pressure of Caleb’s hand on top of hers caused her to look up.
“I’m glad you came,” he said softly. To her disappointment, he released his gentle grip.
His words brought the blossom of hope inside her. She could still make things right—once the ranch was safe. Maybe then she could find a way to pay the rightful owners what she’d taken from the bandits.
When the song ended, the chorister took her seat and the congregation bowed their heads for prayer. Jennie wished they could sing again. She wanted to keep the warm feeling inside her a little longer.
Once the meeting ended, Jennie headed for the door, the other three following behind. She tried to push her way gently through the throng, but more than one hand reached out to stop her progress.
“Jennie Jones. It’s so good to see you.” Jennie recognized the young woman but couldn’t remember her name. She held a baby on her hip and wore a smile.
“How you and your brother have grown,” an older woman added.
“We’re glad you joined your family at meeting this week.”
Jennie peered into the friendly faces, too overwhelmed to speak.
“We hoped you’d come back to us.”
“Who is this fine-looking young man?”
A hand closed over her elbow. “I’m Caleb Johnson. I work at the ranch.”
With a smile to the crowd, Caleb guided Jennie out of the church and down the front steps. “I’m sorry if you wanted to stay. You just looked like you could use some air.” Only when they reached the wagon did he let go of her arm.
He had been more solicitous the past while—first with the money for her dress and now the way he held her arm or touched her hand. Did he regret his rejection of her kiss? Did she want him to? The more she came to know Caleb, the more she admired and cared about him. She hated to think of him leaving the ranch for good in a few months. But she also knew that a man who valued his faith as strongly as Caleb could never understand or forgive the things she’d done to hold on to the ranch. The thing she’d do again, if she could.
“Thank you, for your help back there,” she said, leaning against the side of the wagon.
“Was the meeting as bad as you’d imagined?”
She shook her head as she watched Will and Grandma Jones standing in different groups talking with what appeared to be new friends. “Everyone seems happy to see us.”
“You may still find one or two who insist on dredging up the past, but those are the ones you just ignore.”
Jennie opened her mouth to protest. She’d told Caleb what horrible things members of the congregation had said. How could she ignore people like that? The memory that he, too, had wrestled with hurts in the past stilled her anger.
“It took courage to come today, Jennie.” He reached up to brush a strand of hair back beneath her bonnet, his blue eyes dark with intensity. Jennie reminded herself to breathe. “Just remember the only person whose opinion really matters is God’s. I don’t doubt He cares a great deal for you.”
“How can you be so sure?” The question came out demanding, unbelieving and broke the intimacy of the moment. But she was glad she’d asked it. Did God really care what happened to her and her family? God hadn’t stopped her from losing her mother—twice—or her father. How could she believe that a God who allowed all that to happen wanted her to be happy?
Caleb turned around and rested his arms on the rim of the wagon bed. His answer came so softly that Jennie had to step closer to be sure she heard him. “It’s like that song—I was lost and now I’m found.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “That was me, three years ago. I was lost in grief and anger, but after killing that bandit, I woke up, so to speak. I realized God hadn’t gone anywhere after Liza’s death—I was the one who’d put the distance between us. When I was ready, He was waiting, ready to take my burden away if I let Him.” He twisted to look at her. “He can do the same for you.”
The sincerity of his declaration had the same effect as the song, bringing hope to Jennie’s troubled heart. Maybe he was right. There were still too many complications to figure out such things for herself right then, but Jennie could admit the morning hadn’t been as bad as she’d anticipated. For once she had made the right decision.
Now if only she could save the ranch. It was all she had left—she couldn’t lose it. Not if there was any way to hold on. And when she’d done whatever needed to be done, she could only hope that God, and Caleb, would forgive her.
Chapter Twelve
Though supper had been over for some time, Caleb wasn’t ready to head to bed. For now, he just wanted to sit around the table with the family and relish the end of a very good day. The church service had been edifying, even more so with Jennie there, and he’d enjoyed two slices of Grandma Jones’s delicious spice cake. Jennie, Will and their grandmother didn’t seem in a hurry to leave the kitchen, either.
“I’d like to go to Fillmore—tomorrow,” Jennie announced during a lull in the conversation about the warmer weather and the cattle.
“What for?” Grandma Jones asked.
Jennie’s cheeks tinged pink, though Caleb wasn’t sure why. “About finances for the ranch.”
Caleb leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. “Are you going alone?”
“We can’t spare you or Will,” Jennie said. “Not when the cattle need watching during the day and rounding up into the corral at night. I’ve gone up there alone before. I’ll be all right.”
He wanted to remind her about their encounter with the thugs on the trail before he’d come to the ranch, but he couldn’t, not in front of her family. He didn’t doubt Jennie’s abilities to handle herself, though he wasn’t keen on the idea of her traveling alone. But what could he say? He was only their hired hand.
Grandma Jones patted Jennie’s hand. “Promise me you’ll be careful, Jennie girl.”
“I will, Grandma.” Uneasiness flitted over Jennie’s face, but Caleb shook off the observation. Likely her nervousness stemmed from whatever financial meeting she had planned. “I’ll be back in four days. Can you get along without me until then?”
Caleb gave a deep sigh and eyed Will. “Whatdaya think, Will? Think we’ll manage for a couple days without your sister
?”
The boy grinned, then feigned a frown. “I don’t know. I think those cows are plottin’ a revolt.”
Caleb smothered a laugh with a hand to his mouth. His sarcastic wit was clearly rubbing off on Jennie’s brother.
Jennie glared at them both. “Very funny, you two. Just try not to get the cows rustled again in my absence.”
“I take offense at that,” Caleb said, arranging his face into a deadpan expression. “I lost a piece of my ear for those lousy cows. You think I’m gonna stand by and let them get stolen again—just to lose some limb this time? I don’t think so.”
Grandma Jones and Will chuckled, and finally Jennie’s mouth broke into a smile. “You’re impossible.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Caleb tipped his head. “What I don’t understand is how Will here can get those cows to stay still. I’m always having to ride after one or two that get it in their thick heads to run for the hills.”
“I play my harmonica.” Will unearthed the instrument from his pocket.
“Play something for us,” Grandma Jones requested. “It’s been ages since we’ve heard any music.”
Will put the harmonica to his lips and began to play a jaunty tune. Caleb tapped his feet in time to the music and Grandma Jones clapped her hands. After a minute, Caleb couldn’t remain seated anymore. He pushed back his chair and stood.
“Would you care to dance, Mrs. Jones?”
Smiling, Grandma Jones nodded. Caleb led her around the table in a slow polka as Will continued to play.
A few turns later, Grandma Jones begged off. Will lowered the harmonica. “I’m not as young as I used to be, but thank you for the dance, young man. Why don’t you join him, Jennie? Play another, Will.”
Caleb threw Jennie a questioning glance. Would she dance with him or make up an excuse so she wouldn’t have to? She had been more receptive to him today, taking his arm in hers before and after church. Holding his breath, Caleb held out his hand to her.
Jennie stood, her expression unreadable, but she allowed him to pull her into dancing position. Caleb exhaled as Will started another catchy song.
“You ready?” he asked Jennie.
She gave a wordless nod and he led her in a circle around the kitchen. He liked the feel of her small waist beneath his hand and the way her hair smelled of perfumed soap.
“It seems you can dance as well as you can shoot,” she said, turning her head to look up at him with those big, brown eyes.
Time and sound seemed to slow. Caleb peered into her face and then at her parted lips. What would it be like to kiss her, not in a moment of fear or as her hired hand, but because they both cared for the other? The thought made his heart pound as hard and fast as their feet because he knew he did care for her. He’d never expected to want to love again after losing Liza, but then nearly everything about Jennie took him by surprise. There was nothing he could have done to prepare himself for her or the way she made him feel. Her beauty, her loyalty, her stubborn pride and fierce determination, her wonderful family, even her annoying cows had somehow won him over. But was he truly prepared to give love another try?
Without warning, his boot caught the corner of his chair as they rounded the table again and Caleb stumbled forward. He nearly dropped Jennie, but she managed to fall against the table with a laugh.
“Guess I’m still better at shooting.” He rubbed the back of his warm neck. “Thank you for the dance, ladies. I think I’ll step outside for a bit.”
He hurried to the door. Behind him he heard light footsteps start to follow, but they stopped when Grandma Jones whispered, “Let him go.”
Caleb welcomed the baptism of cold night air on his face as he walked outside and to the corral. The notes of another song could be heard from the direction of the kitchen. Placing one foot on the bottom rung of the fence, he rested his arms against the top and stared at the milling cattle.
Unbidden, Liza’s face, framed in dark hair, appeared in his mind. She and Jennie were as different in personality as they were in coloring.
Liza had always been drawn to people and get-togethers, while Jennie had struck Caleb as quiet and reserved, at least until he’d gotten to know her. Now he knew she could be as witty and teasing as him. And that rock-hard strength—that was what he respected the most. When she put her mind to something, she wouldn’t give up.
Had she given up on the idea of them together? Part of him hoped not, but the other part cringed at the thought of caring for someone so deeply again. It had been three years. Could he open his heart to the possibility of pain and loss and love a second time?
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the wanted notice he’d fished from his saddlebag the other day. It was too dark now to see the face or type, but he’d memorized every detail anyway. He stared unseeing at the paper, feeling as though he held the last surviving shadow of his past. The notice represented all the grief and hate and vengeance that had driven him to be a bounty hunter. He’d made his peace with God about his actions, and yet, he’d kept this final reminder of all he’d lost—a love, a marriage, a family.
Shutting his eyes for a moment, Caleb opened them and blew out a long breath. Something deep inside him whispered it was time. He ripped the notice in half and then half again. When all that remained were tiny scraps of paper, he left the corral and walked north, past the house and barn. In the dark, he lifted his hand and let the pieces go. The wind whipped them into the air and scattered them like bits of snow over the sagebrush. The remnants of his past were gone.
Caleb headed back to the house, one of Will’s songs rising to his lips. He whistled as he strode through the yard and up the porch. Music still came from inside, which meant maybe he could get another dance with Jennie.
* * *
After the stage rolled to a stop in Fillmore, much later than Jennie had anticipated, she rushed down the steps and in the direction of the saloon. According to Nathan’s information, that was where the bandits would be lying low until midnight. She pulled her short jacket tighter around her body to keep out the chill of the evening air. The drop in temperature and the dark clouds smearing the sky signaled a good storm and made it seem much later than suppertime.
With her fingers gripped tightly around her purse, her pistol inside, she pushed through the saloon doors. Her entrance went largely unnoticed in the crowded room except for the men at the closest tables who grinned lewdly at her over their mugs of beer.
Ignoring them, Jennie headed toward the bar, scanning the room in both directions as she walked. Nathan had told her to search for a tall, redheaded fellow and a dark one with a scar on his cheek. No one in the mass of cowboys and businessmen matched his descriptions, but Jennie hadn’t expected to find them down here. Men who’d robbed six hundred from a stagecoach yesterday wouldn’t be openly mingling with the saloon crowd.
“Excuse me,” she said to the man behind the counter.
He glanced up from the shot glass he’d been cleaning with a rag. A look of surprise settled on his face. “Do you need something, miss?”
Jennie nodded. “I believe some friends of mine are staying with you tonight.” She gave the bartender the false names Nathan had provided. “Could you tell me which room they’re in?”
The man lifted a bushy eyebrow, still clearly puzzled by her presence. “Up the stairs, third door.” He waved a thumb at the nearby staircase.
“Thank you.” Jennie made her way across the room. Instead of ascending the stairs, though, she walked toward a group of saloon girls milling about a large table where a poker game was in full swing. She stopped a few feet away to observe them, scrutinizing the faces and behavior of each girl. She needed the cleverest and the prettiest to help her.
Once she decided, she strode forward and tapped the bare shoulder of a shapely blonde. The girl spun around, the smile on her face freezing into place at the sight of Jennie.
“What do ya want?” Her painted face scrunched in annoyance.
; “I need your help with a couple of men upstairs.” Jennie pulled four five-dollar bills from her purse and showed the girl. “I’m willing to pay you and your friend there—” she pointed to a dark-eyed young lady loitering nearby “—twenty dollars to split between you.”
“Ten dollars apiece?” the girl exclaimed.
“Shh.” Jennie glanced around the room, relieved no one appeared to be listening to them.
“For ten dollars, I’d kiss the Pope.”
Jennie chuckled. “Not necessary. I only need you and your friend to get these two men to leave their room and come downstairs with you without any luggage. Then I need them detained for at least half an hour. Can you do that?”
“Consider it done, sweetheart.” The girl waved a hand at her friend. “Nellie. Come here.” The other girl frowned and wandered over.
“We got ourselves a more profitable job,” the blonde whispered to her, “that beats waitin’ around for these cowboys to finish up.”
Jennie led the girls to the stairs where she repeated her instructions, emphasizing the part about no luggage coming downstairs.
“Here’s your money.” She handed each girl two bills, which they tucked into their boots. She knew it might be foolish to give them all of the money up-front, but she was already behind schedule. “Whatever you do, don’t tell them about me.”
“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with us.” The blonde one sniffed, her hands on her hips. “We’ll have ’em down here in five minutes or you can have your money back.”
Jennie smiled at her confidence. “I appreciate the help.”
“Anytime,” the dark-eyed girl said over her shoulder as they sauntered up the stairs.
Jennie watched them until they reached the upstairs hall, then she slipped into the shadows beside the staircase. She’d carefully constructed her plan during the tedious stage ride, and yet, she couldn’t help but worry. Everything hinged on the girls’ ability to get the bandits downstairs—without their money—and hold them long enough for Jennie to do her job.