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Love Inspired Historical October 2015 Box Set

Page 85

by Lacy Williams


  Clara grinned. “He sounds a little like Libby.”

  He turned toward the girls playing happily with their doll. Not once had they argued about sharing it. Clara was proud of them.

  She watched Blue, picturing him helping with his babies, rubbing a little boy’s back. Her throat tightened. “I’d say your wife and children were fortunate to have you as a husband and father.”

  He turned back to her, and their gazes caught and held. The moment filled with a sweet, fearful acknowledgment of the tender feelings between them.

  Her attention drifted to his mouth. If not for the girls’ presence, she would be sorely tempted to ease over and hope he’d kiss her.

  She forced herself to look elsewhere, anywhere but at his tempting lips and his alluring eyes.

  She dare not let herself forget Fort Calgary and get comfortable in Edendale.

  A shudder crossed her shoulder and clamped about her spine.

  Now was not the time to let weak emotions control her.

  *

  Blue couldn’t help but notice her sudden withdrawal, the way she avoided meeting his eyes even when he tipped his head in an attempt to recapture her attention.

  Perhaps she’d said more than she meant to—telling him he was a good husband and father. But he cherished the words. They reached into his heart and mended the broken places.

  “You know, I’ve never spoken of my children to anyone but you since they perished. People around here don’t even know about them.”

  She jerked her attention back to him. “I’m sorry.”

  She’d misunderstood, thought he accused her. It was quite the opposite. “I’m not. It’s good to think of the wonderful times I had with them. You once said I had to take the past with me into the future. At the time I wondered how on earth that was even possible, but I think I’m beginning to understand.” The words came slowly as his thoughts took shape. “Memories of Alice and the children have become a part of my heart. Maybe they’ve even caused it to grow stronger.”

  “Making you ready to love again?” She lowered her head as if she’d said more than she’d meant to.

  He wasn’t sure he was ready for what she asked. The notion of starting over had only become an option he could entertain. Loving again seemed too new to contemplate. He realized Clara waited for him to say something. “At least making me ready to move on.” He shifted his gaze to the girls and shook his head. Love? Not yet.

  He straightened. “Best get to work.”

  They both rushed back to the sawhorse. Seemed she was as anxious to get back to normal as he was. It didn’t take long for him to realize he no longer knew what normal was. His thoughts drifted repeatedly to the pleasure he’d once known of coming home to a wife and two children eager for his return.

  He’d told himself he’d never have such joy again. Didn’t even want it.

  Seemed his heart had not listened.

  By supper time, the last of the pew pieces had been cut. He could perhaps prolong the assembly and clean up for two days. Then there was the shellacking. He smiled to himself. That could reasonably take several days.

  His thoughts slammed to a halt. He was dreaming up ways to delay her leaving, but all it would take for the dream to crumble was the arrival of the stagecoach. Instead of building a home, he’d be following her to Fort Calgary.

  Well, Fort Calgary was as good a place to build a home as any. For how long?

  He answered his own question. Until Clara’s father found them, or Clara thought he might, she’d always be looking over her shoulder, fearful of her father’s threat.

  All Blue could hope to do was go where she went, do his best to keep them safe.

  He should have warned Eddie he might be leaving. Instead, he’d have to send a message.

  He and Clara finished for the day and went to the Mortons’ for supper.

  He made the meal last as long as possible, even throwing out a conversation starter now and then.

  “Linette must be going to have that baby soon.” The comment was good enough for twenty minutes of talk.

  Clara had finished and was helping Libby clean her plate.

  He racked his brain for another topic. “There’s getting to be quite a crowd at the cookhouse on Sundays.”

  That grabbed Bonnie’s attention. “Any news on a preacher?”

  The girls sat up taller.

  Suspecting the reason for their sudden interest, he silently groaned.

  “Mr. Blue could be the preacher,” Libby said.

  “Just ask him not to talk for three or four hours,” Eleanor added.

  Bonnie and Claude looked at each other, their eyes wide, and then Claude chuckled despite the warning look from his wife.

  “Have you discussed this with him?” Claude asked the children.

  They hunched forward, their heads down. “He said no,” Libby said.

  Bonnie squeezed Eleanor’s hand. “I guess that’s your answer. We’ll simply have to keep looking for someone.”

  Blue didn’t know whether to hide his face or chuckle along with Claude. He glanced at Clara. When she rolled her eyes, he laughed. “I doubt I could talk for an hour, let alone three or four.”

  Eleanor’s head came up. “You’re going to change your mind?”

  “Nope. ’Fraid not.”

  The ladies rose to do dishes. Mealtime was over. But he didn’t want to spend the evening alone. Didn’t want to say good-night. He could hardly visit Clara in the shack. It wasn’t appropriate, and Prudence Foot would probably take note.

  Bonnie turned to speak to Claude. “This afternoon I saw a small herd of deer go by toward the river.”

  “Can we go see if they’re down there?” Libby asked. Eleanor’s expression was equally eager.

  “I don’t think so,” Clara said. “Remember what happened last time we were at the river.”

  “But, Mama, I won’t go near the water this time.” Libby clasped her hands together and silently begged.

  Blue managed to keep a wide grin from claiming his mouth. Thank you, Bonnie, for giving me an excuse. “I’ll take you down if you like and if your mama gives permission.” He knew if she did, she would accompany them.

  Clara kept her gaze on the girls as she nodded. “That would be nice.”

  He wished she would look at him so he could gauge her response. Was she glad of the excuse or merely agreeing for the sake of the girls?

  Either way, he only cared that he could delay saying good-night, though the approaching darkness would make it a short outing.

  The girls quickly slipped on their coats. Blue and Clara grabbed their own, hurrying to keep pace with the eager children.

  Blue caught them before they got out the door. “You’ll have to be very quiet if you want to see any deer.”

  Nodding, their eyes bright, they tiptoed out and down the path toward the river. Clara stayed at his side. He tried not to think how good and right this felt…a family outing.

  When they’d gone a few moments a flicker of movement in the trees caught his eyes. He planted his hands on the girls’ shoulders to stop them and pointed to the left. “See them in the trees?” There were three deer in the shadows.

  Libby squinted and shook her head.

  Eleanor caught her breath, and a look of wonder came over her face. “I see them,” she whispered, her eyes round with awe.

  The animals’ heads came up, and they pranced away, disappearing in the trees.

  “I saw them. I saw them.” Libby jumped up and down. “Can we go closer?”

  “They’ll be gone now.” The deer’s keen senses had picked up the human intruders.

  “Maybe not. Can we go see? Please?” She turned her blue eyes on him as she begged.

  He wondered how anyone refused her requests. “It’s up to your mother.” He glanced back at Clara.

  “Is there any danger?”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Do you think I’d be okay with the idea if there was?”

  She lifted
her hands in the air and grinned. “What was I thinking? Go have a closer look.”

  Laughing, he led the way down the bank. The girls continued moving quietly as they scrambled down to the river.

  He held out a hand to assist Clara, half expecting she would say she could manage on her own. But she took his hand. He smiled inside when she made no attempt to pull away once she reached the rocky shore. Nor did she resist when he pulled her closer, tucking her hand around his arm.

  She didn’t look at him, but he saw the smile curving her lips and his grin came from a spot deep inside his heart that had been locked and silent for two years. It felt good to again feel alive inside.

  “Be careful,” Clara called to the girls, who ran ahead. “Stay away from the water.”

  “Yes, Mama,” they chorused.

  Clara and Blue followed at a more leisurely pace. He, for one, was not anxious for this evening to pass. He allowed himself to think she shared the feeling.

  They reached the spot across the river from where he’d seen the deer, and they drew to a halt.

  The girls peered into the shadows.

  Eleanor released a heavy sigh. “Aw, they’re gone.”

  “’Fraid so,” Blue said.

  She turned her worried gaze to him. “Were they scared of us?”

  “I expect so.”

  “But we weren’t going to hurt them.”

  “How could they know that? And if they stayed to find out, and you did mean to harm them, it would be too late for them to escape.”

  Eleanor turned her serious consideration to her mother. “That’s like Mama.”

  Clara pulled back. “What do you mean?”

  Eleanor answered her mother’s question. “You keep saying we have to leave, but like the deer, you don’t stay to see if it’s okay or not.”

  Clara stared at Eleanor, who gave a shrug and went to join her sister watching the trees, hoping to again see the deer.

  Clara shook her head. “Sometimes she says the strangest things.”

  “She’s just a child.” But the similarities struck him. If the deer hung about, they would likely be shot. If she stayed, Clara feared her father would find her and take away her children.

  “I do understand your need for caution,” he said.

  At some point she’d slipped her hand away, and he reached for it and brought her back to his side. “Just remember you aren’t alone.”

  She nodded and allowed him to guide her farther along the rocky shore of the river. The girls ran ahead.

  He rested his hand over her fingers where they lay on his arm. If only he could lock time to this place and this feeling, hold it forever in his heart.

  Instead, he must be like the deer, too, running from the threat of danger in order to be with this woman and these children he’d grown to care about.

  Of course, there was another choice. He could go back to being alone, pushing away the past, refusing to face the future.

  His heart crowded against his ribs. He could not remain a prisoner of his past.

  But would he ever find the life he wanted with Clara and her children? The wisest thing might be to leave them to their plans and seek a way to fulfill his.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Clara could think of many reasons she should end this evening. Not the least of which was her reluctance to do so. Blue had kept her on a wild wagon ride of emotions all day. From worry if he’d gone to concern that he was angry at her, to the pleasant feelings she got when he spoke about his family, to the warmth she felt at his touch—it all pulled her dangerously away from her resolve to go to Fort Calgary.

  Deer ran to stay safe. She must do the same.

  But there was no need for running tonight, so she kept her hand on Blue’s arm and allowed herself to feel sheltered, protected and cared for. Emotions that she normally denied herself. Not that she’d allow her wayward heart to divert her from what she must do. She would simply enjoy the moment.

  They continued walking along the edge of the river until they came to a narrow trail leading upward to the bank. The girls scampered up, and Blue and Clara followed. The sunset filled the sky with reds and pinks, purples and oranges. The snowcapped mountains blushed with color.

  She gasped. “How beautiful.”

  They stood side by side, admiring the display.

  “I wish life could always be like this.” She couldn’t say exactly what she meant. Beautiful as the sunset? Peaceful as the walk along the river? A moment shared with someone she’d grown to care for?

  All of that, she realized.

  He planted his hands on her shoulders, sending warmth and longing clear through her. Slowly, he turned her around to look back from where they’d come. “What do you see? Describe the scene.”

  She studied the view for a moment. “A winter scene. A partially frozen river, edged with ice. It’s all black and white. A little bleak.” It filled her with a sense of loneliness and despair.

  He turned her back to the sunset. “Now what do you see?”

  She smiled. “A burst of colors. The mountains are majestic. Looking this direction makes me happy inside. Hopeful even. As if God is smiling at me.”

  He chuckled. “I like that thought.” He turned her so they faced each other. He looked into her eyes, searching, examining.

  She let him take his time. Wondered what he sought and if he’d find it.

  He drew in a slow breath. “Clara, we’re standing in the same spot. It’s the same time of day. So what’s the difference between the bleak on one side and the hopeful on the other?”

  She got the feeling he searched for the answer as much as asked her for it. “Why, I suppose the direction I look makes the difference.”

  At the way his eyes darkened with—dare she believe?—hope and understanding, she laid her hands on his chest.

  He caught her fingers between his and held them there. “We can control which direction we look, can’t we?” He grew thoughtful. “Life is a lot like that.”

  She didn’t say anything as she considered his words. It was easy to see how this truth applied to his life. For him, it was simply choosing which direction he looked—to the past or to the future.

  Perhaps a future shared with someone?

  Sourness stung the back of her throat. Life was not as simple for her. Her choices were dictated by others—mostly her father.

  “I want to be able to choose.”

  “Then choose. Stop letting your father control you. Decide what you want and do it.”

  Oh, how she wished she could. An ache the size of the sky overhead seized her heart. “My choices must always be secondary to the needs of the girls.”

  He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it without uttering a word. He dipped his head until their foreheads touched.

  She took comfort in the gesture. The thought of going on, leaving him behind, made her knees weak.

  The sound of her daughters playing gave her the strength to pull away. Reluctantly, she slipped her hands from his.

  He reached out and cupped his hand over the back of her neck and pulled her close again.

  She could not find the energy to resist even though she knew she should. Every minute spent with him like this would make leaving so much more difficult.

  He leaned closer, feathered his lips across hers and straightened again before she could respond.

  A protesting sigh escaped her. She was surprised at how much she regretted not being able to kiss him back.

  “I think it might be time for both of us to move forward, led by our good shepherd.”

  His words roused her from her reverie and brought her back to their talk. Though she knew he didn’t mean them so, she pretended to interpret them literally. “Yes, it’s time to put the girls to bed.”

  His half grin informed her he knew she was purposely making it about the girls.

  She called Eleanor and Libby, and they retraced their steps in the growing dusk. With the disappearance of the
sun, the temperature had fallen appreciably, and they hurried despite her reluctance to end the evening.

  They passed the Morton home. Through the window they saw Claude and Bonnie sitting at the table, the lamp between them.

  They reached the shack, and the girls hurried inside. Clara would like to linger outside with Blue, but she had to light the lamp for the girls.

  Still she didn’t immediately step inside. “Thank you for taking us to see the deer. That was special.”

  He caught her hand and pulled her so close the cold air was shut out. She breathed in the smell of wool and wood smoke, leather and oak shavings. Every time she caught a whiff of any of them in the future, she would think of this moment and all the others she had shared with Blue.

  He dipped his head to hers. “I enjoyed the evening, too.”

  She turned her face upward, shamelessly inviting the kiss she’d been longing for all day.

  He responded immediately. She couldn’t say whether it was because of her begging or his own reasons. And it didn’t matter.

  His lips met hers, and she clung to him, her arms slipping about his waist, pressing to his back. His lips were warm and possessive and, at the same time, tender and full of promise. Or was that only her own heart’s cry?

  “Mama,” Libby called. “Can Eleanor light the lamp?”

  She jerked back. “I’ll be right there.”

  Blue didn’t immediately release her. “Clara.”

  She waited, wondering what he meant to say.

  He lowered his arms and stepped back, leaving her alone and cold. “Have a good sleep.”

  “You, too.” She stepped into the shack, closed the door and went to the table to light the lamp.

  “What were you doing, Mama?” Libby asked. “You and Mr. Blue.”

  “I was thanking him for taking us to see the deer.”

  Eleanor watched Clara, but when Clara turned to her, the child shifted away. What was going on in her little mind?

  “Deer are scared,” Eleanor said.

  So that was it. Back to running from danger. “If they weren’t, they’d get shot.”

  “No one is going to shoot us.”

  “Thank goodness for that.” Though that wasn’t the only danger they needed to run from. She guessed Eleanor understood that. And didn’t like it.

 

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