The Prodigal Son Returns
Page 27
She ducked her head so he was unable to see her expression. “I suppose I thought you meant to marry me.” She lifted her head and faced him with her eyes flashing courage and challenge. “I will make a good pioneer wife.”
“I never got your letter or I could have warned you I’m not desperate for a wife. Besides, you can’t simply substitute one woman for another as if they are nothing more than horses.”
“Why not? Are you madly in love with Margaret?”
Love? There was no such thing as love in an arrangement like theirs. “We suited each other.”
“She doesn’t seem to share your view of suitability.”
He guessed she meant if she had, Margaret would be here instead of her. He pointed toward the window. “I mean to correct that. Did you see that house out there?”
She nodded.
“I built it for Margaret.”
Linette’s eyes widened. “But she said...” She looked about at the tiny quarters and shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“I wanted it to be a surprise. I see now I should have informed her about the house. But you can write and tell her how special it is. Once she knows, she’ll reconsider and come.”
She fixed him with a direct stare. “You really believe that’s all there is to her refusal to come?” Her gaze demanded honesty.
His neck knotted and he squeezed the back of it. He thought Margaret wanted to share his life. He still believed it. Surely what he had to offer was acceptable to Margaret. She only objected to meager quarters and that would soon be a thing of the past. He looked about the small room. “I obviously don’t need help running this place. And I don’t need or want a pioneer wife. My wife will have a cook and housekeeper to help her run the big house.” He returned to confront her demanding look. “But with winter coming on—”
“You’ll tolerate our presence until spring?” Her voice carried a low note of something he couldn’t quite put his thumb on. Warning? Challenge?
He scrubbed the back of his neck again, wondering how much more tension it could take before something snapped. Most of his time was spent with animals who had little to say but moo and with cowboys known to be laconic. It didn’t much prepare him to pick up on subtle nuances of social communication, but even a dolt would understand her question was more than mere conversation. “I expect we’ll have to tolerate each other, crowded as we’ll be in these quarters.”
Cassie spun away to stare at the door. “I should have stayed in Montreal.”
Linette gave her a tight smile. “You weren’t exactly happy there, if I recall.”
“Seems happiness is too much to hope for.”
Linette hurried to her side and wrapped an arm around the woman’s waist. “Of course it’s not. We’ll be happy here. About as happy as we make up our minds to be. All of us.” The look she sent Eddie warned him to disagree or make it impossible. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Gardiner?”
“I’m sure we can be civilized. After all, we’re adults.” Except for young Grady, and all eyes turned toward him. “I expect he’s the only one we need to be concerned about.” The child had been abandoned then put into the care of strangers. Which made Eddie that much more grateful to his father for the life he’d been given.
Seeing everyone watching him, Grady started to whimper. The boy’s fears vibrated through the room.
Eddie thought of stroking the child’s head to calm him but knew it would only upset him further. He was at a loss to know how to comfort the boy.
Linette knelt to face Grady squarely. “You’re safe here. We’ll take care of you.”
“I want my mama,” he wailed loudly.
Linette dropped to the floor, pulled the boy to her lap and crooned as she rocked him. “Mr. Gardiner, I believe Grady is hungry. Can you direct me to the food supplies and I’ll gladly make us tea.”
Food? He had no food to speak of in the cabin. “I’ve been taking my meals over at the cookhouse.” Would they like to go to the cookhouse, too?
Grady wailed louder, as if Eddie had announced they were all about to starve. Seems Grady had answered the question. He would not be comfortable among so many strangers. Best to let them eat here. “I’ll rustle up some supplies right away.” Grateful for an excuse to escape the cabin, crowded as it was with bodies and feelings, he grabbed his coat and hat and headed across the yard.
Dare he hope the weather would moderate long enough for the stagecoach driver to decide to venture back to Edendale or Fort Benton? If so, he would have that trio on their way.
But he knew that scenario was about as likely as finding a satchel full of money on the ground before him.
Another thought sprang to life. After less than an hour his nerves were strung tight as a drum. How would he endure months of this?
ISBN: 9781460312865
Copyright © 2013 by Jan Drexler
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