Jake's Honor (Cowboys 0f Coulee Crossing; Romancing The West Book 1)

by Linda Ford

  Connie glanced back. Jake seemed unaware that he still held Megan. He reached into the back and grabbed one of the bags before he followed them inside, dropped the bag on the floor, and went back out. He returned with the picnic basket Audrey had prepared.

  “I don’t expect the men back until suppertime,” Audrey said. She looked at the basket. “I thought you would enjoy a nice picnic. Connie’s chance to see more of the country.” She brightened. “I don’t see why it can’t still happen.”

  “What do you mean?” Jake sounded as confused as Connie felt.

  “This delay will give you a chance to show Connie around.” She turned to Connie. “It’s beautiful country. You should see more of it before you leave.” She nodded decisively. “Jake, take her to that ridge where we saw the elk. You can get most of the way in the wagon. Then it’s just a short walk.”

  A tremor of excitement rippled through Connie. She’d loved to see more of the country. Maybe some wild animals. And to share the adventure with Jake was something she’d dreamed of in the past, before he fell in love with Celia. She knew she would always be Celia’s plain little cousin, but it wouldn’t stop her from enjoying such an outing. And who knew if it might be a chance for Jake to develop a fondness for Megan.

  * * *

  Jake stared at his sister. What was she thinking to suggest such a thing? He did not want to spend time with Connie or Megan. Holding Megan had tipped his heart sideways and threatened his carefully constructed walls. He did not want to care about her. Or anyone. It would hurt too much when they left. It was a lesson he had learned with Celia, and he didn’t see any need to repeat it.

  He handed the baby to Connie. “Sounds like—” He couldn’t think of the right word to dismiss the idea. “Fun.” Fun? Fun! About as much fun as stepping into a bear trap.

  “I’ll help you unload the trunks.” Audrey was out the door and at the end of the wagon, waiting for him before he could pull back the word.

  He followed, his boots scuffing along the floor. Out at the wagon, he whispered to Audrey. “What are you up to?”

  “Helping you unload these things so you can go.”

  He pulled the first trunk to the end of the wagon bed but didn’t grab the handle. “That’s not what I mean. Why are you sending us on a picnic?”

  “Oh, Jake. Don’t be so suspicious. It’s not becoming. All I was thinking was she should enjoy this little interlude.”

  He squinted at Audrey, but she shook her head as if to say he was imagining any other motive. She grabbed one trunk handle. “Come on. Let’s get this unloaded.”

  Together they returned the two trunks to the bedroom. Back in the kitchen, Audrey handed him the picnic basket. “Enjoy the day.”

  He returned the basket to the wagon and took Megan as he helped Connie to the seat. He tried his best not to feel anything toward the little girl, but she patted his chin and babbled something, and his heart turned to mush.

  Megan reached for the baby and he handed her up then hurried around to climb up beside them.

  He sucked in a deep, cleansing breath. He could take them on a picnic, show them the sights, and not get all mushy about it. After all, he was Jake Hooper. Second son of Benton and Susie Hooper. A man who lived life his way.

  He snorted. His way as long as Blaze and Audrey didn’t object.

  “Something wrong?” Connie asked.

  “Don’t think so.”

  “I heard you make a sound.”

  He shrugged. “Just thinking.”

  They rode on in silence. He guided the wagon along the rutted trail.

  “Jake, if you don’t want to do this, just say so. I know I’m not Celia, and she’s the one you wish was with you.”

  The quiet, injured tone of her voice stung him. She’d confessed that she always felt in Celia’s shadow, and now he was treating her in a way that reinforced that feeling.

  He faced her. “I don’t wish Celia was here. She made it plain to all that I was only a passing fancy. I might have been a little hurt at the time.” Or maybe a lot. “But I’ve moved past it.”

  She held his gaze, her own eyes steady, exploring, perhaps seeking the truth behind his words.

  As she studied him, he realized it was true. Thinking of Celia no longer brought pain. “I understand that she wanted more than I could offer.”

  “What did she want?”

  “A bigger life than the wife of a rancher.”

  She turned away with a sigh. “I hope she found what she wanted.”

  Enough talking about Celia. “See that ridge? That’s where we’re going.”

  Connie perked up.

  He continued. “Do you know why these are called the Porcupine Hills?”

  “I suppose because there are lots of porcupines.”

  “Nope. Look at the ridge. See how the fir and pine trees run along the top of it? Looks a little like the back of a porcupine.”

  She laughed. “So it does. On the way out, Ike told me it was ideal cow country. Said the winters are mild and there are many springs for the cattle to water at.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Tell me about ranching.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Where did you get your cows? Where do you sell them? What do they need each season?”

  “You’re sure you want to hear all the details?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Very well. But stop me when you get bored.”

  “I will.” Amusement rounded her words, and he glanced at her. She shifted Megan to her far leg so she could watch him as he talked.

  He told her how they’d bought five hundred head in Montana and had them driven up. How he’d been the one to accompany the drive north. “I saw a lot of country. And the back end of a lot of cows.”

  She laughed, just as he hoped she would.

  He continued. “The cows are on free range, but we have cowboys who keep an eye on them, so they don’t wander too far. They graze all year round because of the mild winters. We sell the market animals either to the Mounties in Fort Macleod or ship them on trains east.”

  “Do you ride herd on the cows?”

  He gave her a long look. “Ride herd? Where did you hear that?”

  She grinned. “Ike. He was quite informative.”

  He chortled. “Is that a kind way of saying he was—” He tried to think of a word that didn’t sound like he was condemning the talkative man.

  “He was a fount of local information.” Her wide eyes and innocent look didn’t fool him.

  He grinned. “That’s one way of putting it. To answer your question, yes. I take my turn riding with the cowboys. We all do. I’ve even spent my share of time in one of the line cabins.”

  “I don’t know what that is.”

  He explained that there were two line cabins, each at the far boundaries of their leased land. “The man living there has to ride his boundary line every day and turn back wandering cows. It’s isolated.” He paused as he thought of how lonely it had been. “I didn’t like it.”

  She asked several more questions about the ranch and he answered them, surprised that she seemed so interested.

  He saw something he thought she would enjoy. He pulled to a halt and got down. “I’ll show you something.” He went around and took Megan. She again patted his chin, and although he was determined not to let it affect him, it did, making him feel like honey dripped into his heart.

  He kept her in his arms as he led Connie to the brow of the hill. “Have a look.”

  She gasped at the way the ground fell away to a valley full of green grass and darker green bushes before another hill rose beyond.

  He pointed. “See that darker spot? That’s where there’s a spring of water.”

  A smile crossed her face as she stared. “It’s amazing. I feel like I can see forever.”

  “I know.” A movement caught his eye. “A couple of deer. See them?” A doe and her fawn grazed near some bushes, almost disappearing i
nto the shapes and shadows.

  “Where?”

  “Just off center to the right.”

  She squinted. “I don’t see them.”

  He lifted his arm over her shoulder to point in the right direction and knew the moment she found them. She shivered. “Oh.”

  He slowly pulled his arm back to his side even though it had felt so good and right to almost touch her. Never before had he considered himself a man who longed for touches. Even with Celia he has been restrained. His stomach clenched. He was hungry. That explained it.

  “We should continue.”

  She slowly turned from the view and returned to the wagon, sighing as she sat on the seat. “That was amazing. Thank you for showing me.”

  He handed Megan to her, went to his own seat, and they continued.

  They hadn’t gone far when she leaned forward. “Are those flowers?”

  Yellow and purple dotted the grassland. “Crocuses. First spring flower. And buffalo beans. Do you want a closer look?”

  She sat back. “I know you have a destination in mind.”

  He stopped the wagon. “We walk from here, so you can get down and enjoy them.”

  Again, he took Megan and helped Connie to alight. Her feet barely hit the ground before she picked up her skirts and ran toward the flowers. She knelt and skimmed her fingers over their petals.

  “You can pick some,” he said.

  “I prefer to enjoy them without destroying them.”

  He thought the words could be said of the way she was with people. Not hurting them, trying to control them, or change them. He shook his head as if he could dismiss his thoughts. Why should he think he knew anything about her? He’d seen little of her. Except what he’d observed of her with Celia. She didn’t try and change her cousin, but she was always available when Celia needed her. The insight made him respect Connie.

  She breathed deeply a few times then got to her feet. “I’m ready to go on.”

  He shifted Megan to one side and took the picnic basket from the wagon.

  “I’ll take her.” Connie held out her arms to the baby, but Megan turned away and pressed her face to Jake’s arm.

  “That’s all right. I’ll carry her.” It was hard to believe she chose to stay with him.

  Connie didn’t look pleased. “I don’t want her to get used to you.” She grabbed the basket, hooked it over her arm, and waited for him to lead the way.

  He didn’t immediately move. Part of him wanted to argue, but how could he when he felt the same way? He didn’t want to get used to them. Still holding the baby, he turned and headed up the hill.

  The slope looked deceptively easy, but soon they were leaning forward as they climbed. “Almost there,” he said.

  They reached the top, and he led them to a spot where they could see the hills roll away and where, in the distance, the mountains stood dark blue, capped with white. Cows grazed placidly in the hollows of the grassy hills.

  She lowered the basket to the ground as she looked around. “It’s amazing.”

  In the shadows of the Douglas fir down one side, he made out a movement. He waited. Sure enough, a cow moose emerged with two calves at her heels.

  “Connie, look,” he whispered, afraid they would disappear before she saw them.

  She turned to follow the direction he indicated, and she gasped. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing.”

  “There’s more. See that bird in the branch of that tree?”

  “No. Where?”

  He again held his arm over her shoulder to indicate where she should look. Again, he felt a connection he couldn’t explain away. “It’s a golden eagle. They have a nest there.”

  She sighed. “It’s wonderful to see all this wildlife.”

  “There’s lots more to be seen. I’ve seen elk, bear, and grouse. I even saw a cougar, though I kept a good distance from it.”

  She shivered. “I might like to see one if it was far away and going the other direction at a gallop.”

  He laughed. Megan looked at him and laughed too. He told himself yet again that he didn’t feel any connection to either of them. They were only here a few more days and then they’d be gone. Only a reckless idiot would allow himself to grow fond of them.

  Reckless idiot. Hadn’t Blaze called him exactly that not many days ago?

  6

  Connie’s feelings swung from enthusiasm over the scenery to regret over agreeing to the picnic. Like she’d said to Jake, she didn’t want Megan getting too used to him, or fond of him. The baby had dealt with far too much loss in her young life.

  But there was no sense in ruining the rest of the afternoon. She chose a spot for the picnic and folded back the towel covering the food.

  “I’ll ask the blessing.” Jake tossed his hat to the side and bowed his head. His prayer was short and to the point.

  As soon as he said amen, Connie pulled out sandwiches made with meat for her and Jake and jam for Megan, who sat on the grass by Jake’s knee. The baby was hungry and quickly ate the food. Audrey had included a canteen of water and a tin cup. Connie offered water to the baby.

  Oatmeal cookies completed the meal.

  Her hunger satisfied, Megan perked up. She patted Jake’s hand. He jerked back like he was startled and said, “Oh.” He grinned to assure the little girl that he was playing.

  She giggled, and when he put his hand down, she did it again. She giggled so hard, she bent over her knees, then resumed the game.

  Connie laughed at the pair. It was good to hear Megan laughing and playing. But then her giggles abruptly changed tone. She threw herself backwards and wailed loud enough to startle the birds from the nearby trees.

  Jake’s eyes widened. “What did I do?”

  “She’s tired.” Connie pulled Megan to her lap and tried to rub her back. But Megan thrashed about and screamed. Connie got to her feet and walked and bounced. She hummed. She made soothing sounds. Megan would not be calmed.

  Jake came to her. “Let me try.” He took Megan and held her to his chest. He walked back and forth singing, “Oh! Susanna.” He had to sing loudly to drown out Megan.

  What a noisy pair. Connie pressed her fingers to her lips to stifle her amusement.

  Jake turned. His eyes narrowed and then he grinned.

  Megan stopped screaming but sobbed in a way that tore at Connie’s heart. Then the baby shuddered, and her eyes closed. “She’s fallen asleep,” Connie whispered. She had nothing to put down for the baby except the shawl around her shoulders, so she spread that on the ground and indicated Jake should put Megan there.

  He gingerly eased the baby down and hovered, waiting to see if she would waken. She didn’t.

  Connie backed away. “Don’t think poorly of her. She’s had a lot to adjust to. Her mother was too ill to give her much attention. And now she’s gone. She hardly knew me when I took her away. It’s upset her. But she’s getting better.”

  “I know what it’s like to lose a mother. I was nine when mine died. It was such a shock.” He stared into the distance as if seeing the past. He shuddered.

  Connie wished she felt free to offer comfort. “What happened? If you feel like telling me.”

  The only indication that he’d heard was a slight twitch of his shoulders. “That day began like any other. I left home for school. I learned my lessons, played ball at recess, pulled a girl’s pigtails. For some reason, us four boys were sent home early. All I could think was that school was let out for some reason. But when I arrived home, I knew something was wrong. Audrey was there even though she didn’t normally get home until suppertime. Pa was there when he should have been working. I got really afraid when I saw the doctor there.” His chest rose and fell as if breathing had become difficult. “I asked where Mama was. I yelled I wanted to see her and ran toward her bedroom, but someone stopped me. I don’t know who. I just remember struggling to get away.”

  Whether she knew him well enough or not, Connie couldn’t bear to see him reliving those pain
ful memories without offering some sort of comfort. She closed the distance between them and rubbed her hand along his arm. “You must have been so frightened.”

  “I was. I remember Audrey coming out of Ma’s bedroom. Her eyes were all red and puffy. She told me Mama had gone to heaven.”

  He shrugged, but she knew it indicated his frustration, not indifference. “I knew then life could change very quickly. And I better get used to it. Grab the good parts and hold on to them.”

  “Like riding so fast and furiously?”

  He chuckled. “Guess I never thought of it that way, but I suppose it’s true.” He smiled down at her.

  Realizing she still rubbed his arm, she dropped her hand to her side and lowered her gaze, hoping he wouldn’t see the heat she felt rising to her cheeks.

  “All that is to say, I understand how difficult it must be for little Megan. She needs kindness and understanding.”

  “I intend to give her both.”

  “I know you will.”

  At the gentleness in his voice, she lifted her head and their gazes locked together. His eyes were the blue of a deep tranquil lake, offering peace and understanding.

  She jerked away. This was not happening. She didn’t feel anything for him. He was one of Celia’s former beaus. And she was leaving, taking Megan away just as soon as the bridge was rebuilt.

  She sought something to focus her attention on, saw yellow flowers—what had he called them? Buffalo beans. She went over and knelt there, forcing her thoughts into some semblance of order.

  He followed and sat cross-legged a bare twelve inches away. Close enough to touch. So close, she could feel him with every breath.

  “I didn’t mean to dump my sad past on you. Truth is, it wasn’t all that sad. We moved to Broadstone shortly after Ma died though Blaze says it was several months. Pa bought some horses and I spent all my time with them. Guess that’s why I’m a fair hand with them.”

  “Fair hand? What does that mean?” She shifted so she could see him as they talked.

  “It means I know how to turn a wild, scared horse into a cooperative animal that can be ridden.”

  Remembering what Ike had said and what she’d seen as they approached, she chuckled. “Or maybe it means you enjoy riding like a wild man.”