by Linda Ford
Jake’s Honor
Romancing the West
Linda Ford
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Sneak peek of Cash’s Promise
Exclusive invitation
Dear Reader
Also by Linda Ford
1
Porcupine Hills, Alberta. Spring 1886
Connie Sewall stared at the rickety bridge—if one dared call it that. It was nothing more than some planks over thick tree trunks across a narrow ravine. She clutched little Megan tighter and glanced at the man at her side whom she had persuaded with much begging to take her to the Hooper Ranch.
“Youse means the Coulee Crossing Ranch.” It wasn’t a question.
She’d been told a coulee was a ravine. The driver had added morosely that it flooded from time to time.
“This is the coulee you meant, isn’t it?”
“Yup, and up ahead youse will soon see the ranch buildings.”
A line of trees blocked any view, but at the moment all Connie cared about was the bridge they were about to cross. “Is that safe?” She couldn’t keep her voice from quivering.
“Safe enough. Only way for a wagon to get there.” He glanced at her; his grizzled face curious. “Unless you done changed your mind.”
She sat up straighter. “I am not about to change my mind.”
“Then best ye hang on. It’s a mite rough.”
Connie’s teeth rattled as they rolled across the rickety affair. She told herself not to look down and yet her gaze went to the narrow gorge in the ground beneath their wheels. Water meandered by. It didn’t look intimidating at all. Simply too narrow and too steep for a wagon. They crossed the coulee and rattled through the trees.
Curious about why the Hoopers had moved so far west and what they had created for themselves, she squinted at the buildings they approached. The place looked solid, as if they meant to stay forever. That would serve her purpose well. She had come for one reason and one only—to take Megan to her father.
And then what? Her parents and her aunt and uncle had warned her to leave the baby in an orphanage. She couldn’t do it, even if defying her family incurred their wrath.
At breakneck speed a horse and rider raced across the grassy, verdant hills toward the house. The rider was bent low over the animal’s neck.
Connie gulped, certain one of the pair was about to encounter destruction. But the rider pulled up and the horse reared on its back legs. The cowboy yelled, “Yahoo,” then they galloped to the barn.
Connie shivered at the blatant display of recklessness.
Beside her, the driver chuckled. “Looks like Jake is out enjoyin’ hisself. He’s a wild one, he is.”
Which upheld Connie’s opinion of the man she sought. She glanced back at the trail they had followed. Not for the first time, she had serious misgivings about what she was doing. Only Celia’s insistence and Connie’s own promise kept her going toward the house when everything in her shouted to go the opposite direction.
Her driver looked around. “Always did admire this place. Only seen it twice afore when I delivered furniture. Pretty spot, it is. The Hoopers will do awright for theirselves here.”
Connie barely heard the words as she gave closer attention to the buildings. A big barn to one side. Behind it she glimpsed a low outbuilding. To the other side, a cozy-looking house. Her gaze lingered on the house. It appeared to be L-shaped with a covered open entrance.
What caught her eye was the way the trees sheltered the house and the way the hill rose and curled away behind it. She couldn’t see the mountains from this spot, but she’d had a good view of them as they traveled from the little town of Willow Creek where she’d arrived on stagecoach after taking the train as far west as she could. There was something alluring and yet, at the same time, fearful, about those endless rolling, steep hills.
A man she knew to be Jake strode across the yard and disappeared behind the house.
“Storm a’brewin’.” The man at her side jabbed his thumb upward.
Seeing only a fringe of dark clouds at the horizon to the west, Connie dismissed the man’s words and turned her attention back to the house.
They pulled to a halt at the hitching rail. A black and white dog barked once but remained on the porch that stood in the L of the house. His hackles raised.
The driver eased his way to the ground and came around to assist Connie. She shifted Megan to her hip and held tightly to the offered hand as she descended. She eyed the dog who watched them without a sign of friendliness.
Before she could decide if she should step past the animal and knock, the door opened. “Howdy, Ike.”
Connie had never been so glad to see a familiar face. “Audrey, nice to see you.”
The woman’s brown hair was pulled back in a neat roll. Her brown eyes widened.
Connie remembered that she alone of the Hoopers had this coloring. The men were all blond and blue eyed.
Audrey swallowed hard as if surprised. “Connie, what are you doing all the way out here? Goodness. I never thought to see you again.”
Not exactly welcoming words. But then the Sewalls and the Hoopers had been only passing acquaintances until Jake started to court Celia.
“I’ve come with a message for Jake.”
Jake appeared behind his older sister; his head uncovered to reveal his straw-colored hair. His eyes flashed blue steel. “Didn’t think to send a letter?”
She ignored his mocking tone. She’d seen little enough of him back in Broadstone, Manitoba, even though he and her cousin spent a good deal of time together. In fact, she was surprised he remembered her.
Or did he? “This couldn’t be sent by post.”
As they considered each other, Ike dragged Connie’s two trunks and her two smaller bags from the wagon. They hit the ground with a thud.
“Wait a minute,” Jake called. “What’s this? You planning on moving in?”
“No. Just long enough to take care of the business I’ve come about.” Then she would decide what was next for herself.
“I cain’t stay. Storm comin’.” Ike climbed back on the wagon seat and drove away, leaving three adults staring after him.
“Well, I’ll be.” Jake sounded equal parts annoyed and surprised.
“You better come in and tell us what this is all about.” Audrey waved Connie forward, her curious gaze on the child in Connie’s arms. Thankfully, Megan was content to stare at these strangers. It was to the baby’s advantage that she not show her not-so-sweet side until this was settled.
Connie followed Audrey inside. Audrey paused to speak to Jake. “Drag her things to the porch before they get wet.”
These people were awfully concerned about rain. Shouldn’t they be welcoming it?
She stopped inside the door and stared. The house was much bigger than it appeared. She stood in an entryway full of boots, coats, and horse gear. Audrey ushered her forward into the kitchen.
Connie wasn’t sure what she’d expected. Perhaps a small hovel with only one set of open cupboards. Instead, the kitchen was roomy. The stove large and gleaming. A row of cupboards, complete with doors, covered one wall. A large table with a red-checked tablecloth, and i
n the middle, a bowl of pine cones. A long, narrow work table against one window. Flour dusted the surface. Audrey had been in the midst of making something. Across the kitchen, through a wide archway, she saw the living area with several cozy-looking armchairs, a couch, and a bookcase filled with books and knickknacks.
It looked downright welcoming. Why was she so surprised? Audrey was a good housekeeper.
Audrey pulled out a chair and waved Connie forward.
“I was about to have tea. Would you care for some?”
Connie sat. “That sounds lovely.” She and Megan had shared a meager lunch back at Willow Creek, but the drive out had been dusty. And the afternoon was more than half gone.
Audrey filled three china cups and set them on the table. She put out a plate of cookies. “What’s this little one’s name?”
“This is Megan. She’s almost a year old.” At Audrey’s invitation, Connie took a cookie. Oatmeal but with no raisins for Megan to choke on. She gave one to the baby.
Jake thudded in, pulled out a chair, and plunked down. “So, what’s this important message?”
“Jake.” His half-sister’s voice carried a warning. She turned back to Connie. “How are you? How was your trip here?”
“Fine on both counts. But Jake is right. I want to say what I came to say.” She shifted Megan to her other knee, closer to Jake. Seeing drool and cookie on Megan’s face, she pulled out her hanky and wiped the chubby cheeks. Stop delaying, she told herself, suddenly feeling awkward at what she was about to say. I have to do this.
Drawing strength about her, breathing a prayer for courage, she faced Jake.
“Do you remember me? I’m Celia’s cousin.” She was used to being ignored when her cousin was around. Celia was blonde, vivacious, beautiful…everything Connie wasn’t. Connie was mousey, with brown hair and brown eyes, and she was quiet to the point she was ignored. Also, she thought with a touch of irony, she was the one who kept her head about her and helped Celia out of her many predicaments. Today was a prime example.
“I remember seeing you,” Jake said.
“I have a message for you from Celia.”
He nodded,; his eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t she bring it herself?”
“She passed away a short time ago.” She watched for his reaction but, apart from a slight flickering of his eyelids, he revealed nothing.
Audrey gasped. “I’m sorry. My condolences.”
“I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” Jake’s voice was flat. Didn’t Celia’s passing mean a thing to him? Her suspicions about how he’d treated Celia grew.
“She asked me to tell you—”
Jake shoved his chair back. “It seems to me that any message now is irrelevant.”
Audrey pressed her hand to his arm. “Jake, she’s come all this way. I’m sure what she has to say is important.” She turned to Connie. “Please continue.”
Connie sucked in two deep breaths. She wondered if Jake wanted to hear her message with Audrey present, but then she’d practically raised him and his three brothers, so her presence might prove helpful.
“Jake, Celia asked me to bring your daughter to you.” She tipped her head toward Megan in case anyone wondered what she meant. “This is Megan Hooper.”
Jake shoved back so fast his chair tipped over. The crash startled Megan and she let out a wail. The dog barked and then howled. Audrey rose, looked from Megan to Connie to Jake. She hollered at the dog to stop.
Connie turned Megan to her shoulder and patted her back. Her cries subsided to ragged gasps. Connie knew from experience the little one was at the end of her endurance but there was little she could do.
“Jake, sit down. This is something that needs to be dealt with.” Audrey righted the chair and waited for Jake to sit.
He remained standing. “What kind of trick is this? I don’t have a child with Celia or anyone.”
* * *
Jake tried to make sense of what Connie said. Celia was dead? He couldn’t imagine. She had always been so full of life, so eager for adventure. So eager, in fact, that she had left the little town where they lived in search of greener pastures. She’d been emphatic that she wanted more than Jake could offer her. Still, to think of her being gone? And then for her cousin to bring a baby and accuse him of being the father…
He took a step toward the door. He needed to get away from this place. Away from false accusations. A good hard ride would help clear his mind. And if he stayed away long enough, this woman and child would be gone.
Wouldn’t they?
But Audrey touched his arm. Her eyes were full of questions. He tore his gaze from the door and escape. She didn’t deserve to deal with this on her own.
He sat on the edge of his chair.
“Now, tell us what’s going on.” Audrey spoke to Connie.
Connie’s mouth turned down.
Jake had seen little of Celia’s cousin in the months he’d courted Celia. But enough to know she didn’t approve of him. He’d heard her warning Celia to stay away from him.
He recalled her exact words. “He’s wild. He won’t settle down. In fact, he’ll likely get tired of you and break your heart.” Too bad she hadn’t thought to warn Jake that Celia was a flirt and not ready to settle down. Always chasing the next thrill.
Connie wiped her palm across her face.
For a moment, he felt a twinge of sympathy. She’d lost her cousin, and they’d always been close. But in the next moment, his sympathy vanished into suspicion. Why would she bring a baby and claim it was his? Money? He squinted at her. Was the child hers and she wanted to give it a name and a home?
Connie began to speak, her voice low as if every word hurt. “Megan is almost a year old. Celia left Broadstone”—she mentioned the town in Manitoba where they had all lived—“eighteen months ago.” Her voice fell to a whisper and her cheeks darkened as she spoke. “That’s when she discovered she was…” She shrugged and patted the baby’s back. Her eyes flared. “It seems either she didn’t feel she could tell you, or she told you and you dismissed her.”
Jake refused to shrink back from the fire burning in Connie’s look. He sat up straighter and gave her hard look for hard look. “Not only didn’t she tell me. That child is not mine.”
“She told me you’d say that.” Words spoken softly that carried a weight of condemnation.
“Because it’s the truth.” He heard his voice growing louder, strident.
The baby shuddered and clung to Connie.
“Is she going to cry?” He couldn’t keep his words from being overly loud.
Connie got to her feet and jostled Megan. “She’s tired. It’s been a very long day for her. Besides, you’re yelling. It frightens her.”
“I’m not yelling.”
“Yes, you are,” Audrey said. “Let’s be calm and figure out what’s going on.”
“You think—?” He shook his head. His sister who was more like a mother sounded as if she thought it possible the baby was his. “Isn’t it obvious what’s going on? Miss Sewall needs a father for her child and has fabricated a story blaming her cousin. Very convenient, I’d say.” Why couldn’t he stop these awful words from flowing from his mouth? But it was too late.
Connie stared at him; her cheeks stained dark.
Audrey gasped. “Jake, guard your tongue.”
Little Megan, not caring for the tension around her, threw herself backwards and cried. It could hardly be called a cry. It was a scream that tore at his eardrums. Out on the porch, his dog howled.
Jake felt like adding his voice to the melee. Instead he hollered, “Bowser, lie down and be quiet.”
The dog barked twice to let Jake know how unfair life was and then was quiet.
The same couldn’t be said for Megan. Her cries had intensified, and she struggled so hard in Connie’s arms, Jake feared she would tumble to the floor. Then she’d have good reason for crying.
“What can I get her?” Audrey had to raise her voice to be heard.
&nbs
p; Bowser had his front paws on the window, yapping for all he was worth.
Jake didn’t have the heart to tell the dog to get down. After all, this was all new and strange to him.
“I expect she’s hungry.” Connie’s words jerked out. “I hate to be a bother, but is there anything she can eat?”
Jake pointed at the cookies.
“She needs real food,” Audrey said. “There are leftovers from dinner. I’ll get her some potatoes and gravy. Will that be all right?”
Connie nodded. “You hear that, Megan. This nice lady is going to get you something to eat.” She turned back to Audrey. “I don’t suppose you have milk for her?”
“’Fraid not, though I am constantly asking for the boys to get me a milk cow. They keep promising, but that’s as far as it gets.” She smiled at Jake. “Guess now you’ll have to actually do it.”
“Now?” Did she think he was going to keep the baby?
Before he could explain how it was really going to be, Audrey turned away. She filled a glass with water and handed it to Connie, who held it to Megan’s mouth. The baby gave one more loud wail, choked back a few sobs, then drank. She almost drained the cup.
“She was thirsty,” Audrey observed.
“I didn’t realize how long it’s been since she ate or drank anything.”
“What kind of mother are you?” Jake demanded, each word dripping with condemnation.
“I’m not a mother.”
“So you say.”
Audrey heated the food over the stove then brought it to the table. Connie fed the baby. Before she was finished, Megan’s head began to droop. Connie shifted so Megan could sleep in her arms.
“Would you like to put her down?” Audrey asked.
“Yes, please. She’d rest better if she could stretch out.”