by Linda Ford
“’Cause she was worried about Jake, of course.” Cash made it sound like even Levi should have known that.
“Why?” Levi could be dense at times.
Jake wanted to ask why as well. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer. Was it because he had promised to see her settled in Fort Macleod? Any of his brothers could do that. Was it because she missed Celia and saw him as a connection to her? Did she harbor a lingering hope that Jake was Megan’s father?
Or—dare he hope—did she simply care about him?
“Think about it,” Blaze said in answer to Levi’s why.
Levi studied Connie a moment. She smiled at him. “I guess she would be sad if something happened to any of us out there.”
That effectively put Jake’s own questions to rest. Of course, she would.
The meal ended, conversation died down, and Audrey said she was going to bed.
Jake struggled to his feet. He couldn’t wait to stretch out on his bed. He headed down the hall, pushing away Cash’s attempt to help him.
He groaned as he prepared for the night, sighed when he made it to his bed.
His sleep was filled with nightmares of being buried alive. When he was awake, he couldn’t find a position that didn’t make some part of his body hurt.
He rose the next morning with more aches and pains than he thought possible. He struggled into his trousers but couldn’t lift his arms to put on his shirt.
Someone knocked on his door, and Cash stepped in. “Thought you might need a hand getting dressed.”
Jake felt both grateful and resentful at the necessity of accepting Cash’s help.
His shirt on and tucked in, they left the room and joined the others in the kitchen.
Connie already sat at the table, feeding Megan.
He felt everyone watching him and forced himself to sit at his place without releasing the groan every movement brought.
No one said anything.
“Today is Sunday,” Blaze announced. “We’ll take the day off. We’ll have a little church service after breakfast.”
Jake stared at his brother. They’d held their own service the first few months they’d arrived there. Partly, he supposed, out of gratitude for being able to fulfill their father’s plans and partly out of respect for him. But it had been a long time since they’d done so.
Blaze met his gaze without blinking then he dropped another surprise. “Jake, maybe you could say a few words to remind us of God’s goodness.”
Jake swallowed hard. “I ain’t a speaker.”
“We aren’t expecting a sermon,” Blaze said.
“Or wanting one,” Levi added.
“We all need to remember God’s goodness.” Cash spoke gently. “But you experienced it firsthand.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Audrey said.
Connie added her opinion. “It sounds lovely.”
The only person who hadn’t said anything to make him feel he should say something was Megan, and she gave him a toothless grin.
“Very well. I’m sure I can think of something.” He soon realized it was easier said than done. When the kitchen was clean, Blaze said they should gather in the living room. They pulled the chairs into a circle. At least he wouldn’t be expected to stand up and face them all. In fact, he hoped he wouldn’t be expected to stand. Every movement hurt like fury.
“Let’s begin with a hymn,” his older brother said. “Audrey, would you start us? Let’s sing ‘I Sing the Mighty Power of God.’”
Their sister began, her voice deep and strong. The brothers joined in, each taking a part.
Connie looked around the circle, as if awestruck by the music they produced, and then she joined in, her voice sweet and clear.
The words delved deep into Jake’s soul.
I sing the mighty power of God, that made the mountains rise.
God had held back the mountain of mud that threatened to bury Jake.
They finished that hymn and Audrey began the Doxology. Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
Silence, deep and reverent, followed the “Amen.”
He suddenly knew what he wanted to say. “I should have died. The whole mountain of mud should have collapsed on me. But it didn’t. God held it back and thrust me away from the worst of it. I didn’t know how much had caved in nor how long it would take anyone to dig me out. I cried out to God.” He sent Connie a little smile. “I hollered real loud. In that moment, something happened. I knew God held me in His hand. I knew whatever happened, He loved me, and that was enough. You know it’s been a long time since I’ve given God more than a passing thought. But remember how Mama had us memorize Bible verses?”
His siblings nodded.
“One passage came to mind while I lay there. ‘Whither shall I flee from thy presence? The darkness hideth not from thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to thee.’ There’s more, of course, but those verses took on a whole new, richer meaning to me at that moment.”
“Psalm 139,” Audrey said. “I remember learning it with her.” She sniffed back a tear.
“Mama would be pleased that you recalled the verses.” Blaze looked around at his brothers. “I can recall many of the verses she taught us. Do you two remember them?”
“I remember some,” Cash said.
Levi studied his clenched hands. “Can’t say as I do.”
Audrey rested her hand over his. “I know she had you memorize some. I’ll help you remember them.”
Levi nodded. “Thanks.”
Blaze studied each of his brothers. “Jake’s accident has served to remind us of our heritage of faith. Let’s live up to what our parents instilled in us. Let us honor our own faith from this day forward.”
“Amen,” Jake said.
The service ended. Audrey took her sewing project out to the porch.
Connie followed with Megan in her arms.
“You might as well enjoy some rest,” Blaze said to Jake. “I’ll take a chair out for you.” He carried a rocker to the porch.
Jake didn’t intend to pass up the opportunity. Blaze had even positioned the chair next to Connie.
Blaze strode away to the barn. Cash followed him. Levi had gone down the hall to his room. He returned with a Bible. “Audrey, can you show me some of those verses?”
“Certainly.” She went inside to join him.
That left Jake and Connie sitting alone, with Megan being amused by Bowser.
“That was nice,” Connie said. “I enjoyed it, and your words meant a lot.”
“Really?” He wanted to hear more.
“Sometimes it’s easy to think we’re out of God’s sight. It’s reassuring to know we aren’t.”
“Are you speaking from experience? About feeling out of God’s sight? Perhaps thinking God doesn’t care?”
“There have been times. The first I remember was when I was six or seven years old and I overheard a conversation between my parents. My father—” She broke off and drew in a long breath.
Ignoring the pain it caused him, he reached over and squeezed her hand where she gripped the arm of the wooden chair. “Don’t tell me if it hurts too much.”
“I want to tell you, so you’ll know how much your words encouraged me. My father told my ma that he needed a son…someone who would help him in the business and take over when the time comes.” She gave Jake an angry look, but he knew the anger wasn’t directed at him. “I tried to help him in the store, but he wouldn’t let me. He said it was no place for a girl.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No, it isn’t. Anyway, back to the conversation I overheard. Mama said I was supposed to be a son and she was sorry I wasn’t. She said they had to make the best of it.” Connie’s mouth hardened to a frown. “The best of it. Like they were stuck with me. Then you know what my father said?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure I want to. It sounds like he hurt you badly.”
“He
certainly did. He said girls are a nuisance. Said they’d have to watch me as I grew older to make sure I didn’t get into trouble.” Connie closed her eyes as if she could erase the words from her memory. “I vowed then and there that they would never worry about me getting into trouble. I would be the kind of child that never gave them a problem.” Her shoulders rose and fell. “I guess I was until this thing with Celia and the baby.”
He knew what she meant. She’d told him the other day. She wasn’t welcome at home if she kept Megan.
They turned their attention to Megan, who sat on the ever-patient Bowser.
“She’s fortunate to have you,” he said.
“Or am I fortunate to have her?”
He thought of the challenges ahead of the pair. For a moment, he considered claiming to be Megan’s father. He was about to voice his thought when Connie scooped up Megan and faced him.
“I know things might be difficult for us. People will judge. I will likely be shunned.” She snorted. “I’ve been shunned by my own parents. Megan has been shunned by her grandparents. But—” The words rang out with determination. “I will provide for this child. I will raise her as my own. I don’t need pity or misguided offers of help.”
Had she read his thoughts? Was his desire to help misguided? Did she think he pitied her?
To some degree, he did. Or at least, worried about what her future would look like, and that was kind of the same thing.
So he kept his idea to himself.
10
As soon as Connie spoke, she knew she had been too vehement. She put it down to the wild emotional ride of the last few days. And the need to bring her thoughts back to what was possible for her and more importantly, what wasn’t possible.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to speak so sharply. It’s just—” Just that she’d allowed herself to dream of how things could be if…
She had no right to allow herself to grow fond of Jake and think it changed things between them. He’d offered to see her to Fort Macleod. Nothing more. He didn’t intend to be Megan’s father even though his name on the birth certificate gave him the right. She had to keep the facts before her.
“What? Finish what you were going to say.”
“I’m overreacting to the scare yesterday of thinking you’d been buried.” She shivered.
“It was a wake-up call in many ways.”
Yes, a wake-up to how she’d let her feelings get ahead of possibility.
Megan struggled to get down, providing her a perfect escape.
“She’s restless. I’ll take her for a walk.”
“I’ll go with you.”
She could hardly say she was trying to get away from him, or more correctly, her errant feelings toward him.
He groaned as he got to his feet and pressed his palm to his rib cage.
She’d seen him do so several times. “Are you sure you’re up to a walk?”
“I’m bruised. Nothing more. Sitting around too much will only make me stiff.”
She put Megan down and the baby toddled away, following Bowser, who slowed to let her keep up. Connie chuckled. “At least we won’t be going fast.”
“Tomorrow we’ll begin work on the bridge.”
She wondered if he would be able to help but kept her opinion to herself. They wandered down the trail through the trees that led toward the crossing. She stopped when she saw a flash of blue in the branches and heard a raucous squawk. “What was that?”
“A blue jay. They’re pretty birds but tend to be noisy and bossy.”
“How is a bird bossy?”
“They’ll scold when you get too close. They boss around other birds and animals.”
The bird alighted on a branch down the trail and squawked loudly and insistently.
Connie laughed. “It does sound like it’s ordering us around.”
Megan and Bowser continued along the trail and the bird flew off. Connie and Jake followed the baby and the dog. They reached the open field that slanted toward the coulee. “The water has subsided since last time we were here,” she said, surprised at how many days had passed.
“But the bridge has not returned.”
She laughed at his doleful tone.
Megan sat down with Bowser at her side.
“Do you want to sit?” Jake asked.
“I’d love to enjoy the view.” She sank to the ground, glanced up to see Jake looking down on her, his mouth puckered.
She realized it might hurt for him to get down to the ground and even more to get back up, and she regained her feet. “Jake, don’t even think of sitting. We should get back anyway.”
“I don’t like feeling like an invalid.”
She brushed her hand along his arm. “It could have been so much worse.” Her voice hitched and she looked away lest he see the tears that rushed to her eyes.
He caught her chin and turned her back to face him. For a moment, she kept her eyes lowered but he waited, his fingers warm on her skin. Slowly, reluctantly, fearfully, she brought her gaze to his and immediately regretted it. But she couldn’t turn away. Couldn’t stop drinking in the warmth in his eyes. As if he had caught a bit of the sunshine to share with her. As if he cared about her feelings.
“You were really concerned?”
“Of course, I was.” He would never know how much.
“Why?”
She would have turned away, denied how she felt, except he imprisoned her with his demanding look. It was like being pulled into a swirling wind that tugged at her senses, made her lose every sense of direction. “Because I care,” she whispered.
“About me?” he whispered back.
“Yes.”
His gaze went to her mouth and lingered there. His thumb brushed her lips.
Bowser barked, jerking Connie back to her senses. She spun around to see what had the dog alert and on his feet. He looked down the trail. She squinted that direction. In the distance, she made out a rider. So did Jake.
“Let’s get back to the house. I don’t like to be out in the open like this.” He reached for Megan but groaned.
“I’ll get her.” Connie grabbed the baby and they hurried back along the way they had come.
Bowser remained where he was, growling, until Jake called him to come.
Connie owed the dog a big thank-you for bringing her to her senses before she did something foolish. Like letting herself confess her growing fondness for Jake. Like forgetting that she had to make choices for Megan’s good. Connie could not follow her foolish heart when she had Megan’s future to think of.
She increased her pace. “I should be helping Audrey with the meal.”
“I’m sure she can manage.”
“I don’t intend to take advantage of your hospitality.”
* * *
Jake ignored his aching legs as he kept pace with Connie. She’d admitted to being fond of him. He thought it meant more than Levi’s suggestion that she was fond of all of them. But now she made it clear that she saw his presence as hospitality. Huh. Hospitality had been far from his mind when he thought of kissing her.
Good thing Bowser’s bark had stopped him. It wasn’t as if he had anything to offer her. He wasn’t Megan’s father though his name was on the record. Was that enough?
His only home was shared with three brothers and a sister. Hardly an incentive to a young woman.
Plus, she would always compare herself to Celia and believe he did too.
The only comparison he had was that he’d overlooked a diamond while seeing a flashy bit of glass.
Levi and Audrey sat on the porch, watching them approach.
Perhaps realizing the pace was too much for Jake, Connie slowed down. Or perhaps she felt safe now that they were back in the yard. He didn’t let himself decide if he meant safe from a stranger riding by or safe from him.
Cash and Blaze came from the barn. They all reached the porch at the same time.
“Saw someone riding by,” Jake said.
They tu
rned to look that direction, but no rider approached. They watched for several minutes…more than enough time for someone to come. There were many places a rider could cross without need of a bridge.
“Guess he isn’t coming here.” Jake shifted, easing his sore muscles.
“I made soup. It’s ready.” They followed Audrey inside where the aroma of savory soup greeted them.
“I apologize,” Connie said. “I should have helped you.”
Audrey laughed. “It’s pantry soup.”
Connie looked puzzled.
“I throw in everything that’s in the pantry. Leftovers, a can of this and that. Add a few spices and there you go—pantry soup.”
Connie laughed. “It smells good.”
A few minutes later, she said, “It tastes as good as it smells.”
“We’ll get at the bridge first thing tomorrow,” Blaze said.
“I feel like I’m putting you to a lot of trouble.” Connie said.
“Not at all,” Jake reassured her before anyone else could, though he figured they all shared the same thought. “We need a bridge. Needed it before you came and will need it after you leave.”
His words fell into silence.
“Unless you stay,” Levi said.
“I can’t. I need to make a life for Megan.”
“What’s wrong with here?” Levi persisted.
Connie kept her gaze on the baby half asleep on her knee. “It’s a nice thought, Levi. But it wouldn’t work.”
“Why not?”
Jake wished someone would tell Levi to stop pestering her, but it seemed they all wanted to hear her response as much as he did.
“I’m afraid people would misunderstand. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to put Megan down for her nap.” She left the table and went down the hall. Her steps were slow and measured, yet it felt to Jake like she ran. Ran from him. From the ranch. From anything he had to offer. Which, admittedly, was next to nothing.
Levi waited until the door closed behind Connie. “What would people misunderstand?”
No one offered an answer. Levi leaned over the table toward Jake. “It’s because you aren’t Megan’s father, isn’t it?”
“And why would that be a problem?” His words were low and controlled though everything in him wanted to yell at his brother to stop prodding.