A Tender Hope

by Amanda Cabot

  “I don’t suppose you’d like a new job.”

  Jackson turned, startled by Warner’s words. He’d been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed that the store was now empty of customers.

  “Were you reading my mind?” he asked. There was no question of leaving the Rangers before Micah’s killers were behind bars, but once he’d accomplished that, perhaps he should consider a change. The Rangers were changing—had, in fact, changed dramatically since he’d joined them. Maybe it was time for him to change too.

  Warner shook his head and clapped a hand on Jackson’s shoulder. “I was just feeling a bit desperate. Business seems to be picking up, and I could use an assistant.”

  “You don’t want me.” Jackson raised his hands in mock surrender. “I can’t tell arnica from bay rum. And if that’s not enough to convince you that I’m the wrong man, I need to tell you that while I might be good with a weapon, my mother wouldn’t let me carry any of her china or glassware. She claimed I was the clumsiest of her boys.” He gestured toward the cabinets filled with bottles of expensive tonics. “You wouldn’t want me to touch those.”

  “You can’t blame a man for asking.” Warner returned to his position behind the main counter and leaned on the wooden top. “I heard you found a woman’s body.”

  “I think she was the one I was looking for, but I sure wish the circumstances had been better.”

  Warner nodded, his expression solemn. “Sounds like the rumors that she was hurt pretty badly are true.”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” What was also unfortunate was that someone—probably Doc Harrington—had divulged that information.

  “Between you and Travis, I have no doubt you’ll find whoever’s responsible.”

  He would, Jackson vowed silently. Defeat was not part of a Ranger’s vocabulary.

  “I don’t know what your plans are,” Warner continued, “but you’re welcome to stay at my house for as long as you’d like.”

  “Are you certain?” Though it was a generous offer and one that had the added appeal of keeping Jackson close to the intriguing Thea Michener, he didn’t want to take advantage of his host.

  “Absolutely. Living alone isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “I know what you mean.” Jackson’s job had been easier when he and Leander had traveled together. They’d shared responsibilities; they’d protected each other; most important, they’d kept loneliness at bay. Being a lone Ranger wasn’t fun. No fun at all.

  “What’s wrong?” Furrows formed between Aimee’s eyebrows as she entered the kitchen, cradling a now-sleeping Stuart.

  Thea tried not to frown. She’d thought she’d hidden her distress, but obviously, she had not. “Jackson found the woman he thinks is Stuart’s mother.” As much as Thea would have liked to have spared Aimee the unpleasant details, she knew the story would soon be common knowledge.

  “Jackson?” To Thea’s surprise, Aimee fixed on the name Thea had used, not the story she was telling.

  As a flush colored her face, Thea said as calmly as she could, “He asked me to call him that.” It was downright silly to be so flustered, and yet she couldn’t help it.

  Her friend gave her a long, appraising look. “I see.” She turned to the baby in her arms and stroked his forehead. “And the reason you’re upset is that Stuart will be leaving us.”

  Thea shook her head, shuddering as she remembered the scene in Doc Harrington’s back room. “I wish that were the case. The woman is dead.”

  She wouldn’t tell Aimee about the stranger’s resemblance to her. Jackson had insisted that information was best kept confidential, and both the doctor and the sheriff had agreed. They had also agreed that if Jackson and Travis couldn’t find the woman’s family, they would bury her in the Cimarron Creek cemetery. In the meantime, she would rest in a simple closed coffin, protected from curious eyes.

  Aimee tightened her grip on Stuart, waking him with her protective gesture. “It’s all right, little one,” she murmured. “But it isn’t all right, is it?” she asked, her hazel eyes filled with distress. “What will happen to Stuart now?”

  “Jackson and Travis are going to search for his family. I hope they’ll be able to find them.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  That was the question that had weighed heavily on Thea’s heart from the moment she’d seen the woman lying on the table. As she and Jackson had walked back from the doctor’s office, even though he’d been questioning her about Daniel, she’d been unable to forget the motherless infant. While Jackson had no proof that the woman who could have been Thea’s twin was Stuart’s mother, Thea had no doubts. She’d caught the faint smell of spoiled milk when Jackson had lifted the sheet to reveal the woman’s face. That had told her that the stranger was a nursing mother. It couldn’t be coincidence.

  “Travis said Reverend Dunn would see whether anyone in Cimarron Creek is willing to adopt Stuart.” Though she knew that was the second-best choice for him, the idea was surprisingly distressing. Perhaps it was because the woman looked so much like her and she felt a connection to her because of that resemblance. Perhaps it was simply that Stuart was such a lovable child. Thea wasn’t certain of the reason. All she knew was that her initial reluctance to even hold him had vanished.

  “If no one steps forward, I’ll keep him.” The words popped out of Thea’s mouth, surprising her. And yet, though she hadn’t intended to say them, they felt right. Stuart wouldn’t replace Aaron—no one could do that—but he might fill one of the empty places in her heart. The question was whether it would be fair to Stuart, whether she could be both mother and father to him.

  “Would you mind?” she asked Aimee. While the thought of keeping Stuart was appealing, Thea wouldn’t be able to do it without assistance.

  “Of course I wouldn’t mind. I’ve already learned to love this little one.”

  As had Thea. “Are you certain? It would mean that you’d have to care for him when I’m with patients.”

  Aimee pressed a kiss on Stuart’s forehead before looking back at Thea. “That won’t be a problem. Stuart’s easy to care for. He and I had a good day today.”

  But Thea had not. In addition to seeing the woman who looked so much like her, she could not forget the questions Jackson had asked and how they reminded her of the day she’d met him, when he’d looked as if he didn’t trust her. Why was he so suspicious?

  8

  There had to be something she could do to help Thea, Aimee reflected as she dried the last of the supper dishes. It was understandable that learning about Stuart’s mother’s death had distressed her—Thea had experienced more than her share of death recently—but Aimee knew that something else was weighing on her friend. Unlike the underlying sadness that she’d sensed from the first time she’d met Thea, this seemed to be more recent.

  Perhaps it was the prospect of adopting Stuart. Though Thea obviously loved the boy at least as much as she did, perhaps she also feared that he would be a constant reminder of the son she’d lost. Aimee didn’t know whether that was the problem. What she did know was that Thea needed a distraction.

  “Let’s take Stuart for a walk,” she said as she hung the dish towel from a peg. “I’d like to explore the town, and it’ll give us a chance to see if he likes the buggy.” While Thea had been gone, Aimee had ventured into the attic and found a baby carriage. After only a bit of cleaning, it was ready to use.

  Thea appeared dubious. “The shops are all closed.”

  “That’s the best time. I won’t be tempted to spend any money.” Not that Aimee had much. The journey from France to Texas had cost more than she’d expected, leaving her funds severely depleted. She’d have to find a way to earn some money soon, but first she needed to help her friend. “C’mon, Thea. It’ll be fun.”

  “All right.” It was a grudging acceptance, but at least she hadn’t refused.

  Aimee rolled the buggy onto the porch and down the front steps, then took Stuart from Thea,
laying him carefully in the blanket-lined body of the carriage. To her relief, the baby did not protest but looked up at her with wide eyes, as if trying to determine what was happening. He appeared content and, surprisingly, so did Thea.

  Their progress was slow as they walked west on Pecan and turned to head south on Main, because she didn’t want to jostle Stuart too much, but Aimee didn’t mind. How could she when Thea was smiling again and commenting on the beauty of the live oaks and the flower-filled window boxes that reminded her of Ladreville? The day’s heat had dissipated a bit, making it the perfect evening for a stroll.

  They were standing in front of the mercantile, admiring the high-buttoned shoes in the front window, when Aimee heard a familiar voice. She turned, her eyes widening at the sight of the couple who were now crossing the street.

  “I’m so glad to see you!” Patience used her best schoolmarm voice, the one that carried over children’s squabbles, as she hurried toward Aimee and Thea. “I was debating whether we should stop by your house, but now we don’t have to.”

  Aimee barely heard her friend’s words, for her gaze was snared by the young man who accompanied her. He was . . . As had happened when she’d entered her mother’s childhood home, words failed Aimee. Though she searched, she could not find the proper words—either French or English—to describe this man and how he made her feel.

  Patience had no such problem. She gestured toward her companion. “One of the reasons we’re here is that I want you to meet my cousin.” Without giving anyone a chance to respond, Patience turned to Thea. “You must be Mrs. Michener. I’m Patience Kenton, the town’s new schoolteacher, and this is my cousin, Nate Kenton.”

  “The town’s old peach and goat farmer,” the blond-haired man who smelled faintly of mint said, his lips curving upward.

  He could speak. Aimee could not. But she could look, and look she did, trying to hide the fact that she was staring at Nate Kenton. She had grown up hearing Maman talk about the coup de foudre, the attraction she’d felt the moment she’d met Papa, and how in that instant she’d known he was the man she would marry. At the time, Aimee had believed it a fairy tale, but now she knew that love at first sight was possible. How could she doubt it when she’d felt the same lightning bolt that her mother had?

  Nate Kenton was not the handsome man Aimee had always dreamed of, but when he smiled, his ordinary features became oddly appealing. Perhaps it was those blue eyes, so different from her own. Perhaps it was his broad shoulders or those muscular arms. She wasn’t sure what caused it, but her heart had accelerated at the sight of that smile, and it was refusing to settle down, leaving her tongue-tied and more than a little confused.

  “You don’t look old to me.” Thea, who was obviously not afflicted with Aimee’s inability to utter a coherent sentence, made a show of inspecting the farmer, as if searching for wrinkles and gray hair.

  “Ah, but I am.” His smile widened, and Aimee’s heart faltered. What was it about that smile that made her insides turn to mush? The man had barely glanced at her, telling her that he had not felt the coup de foudre.

  “In three months, I’ll be thirty.” Nate kept his gaze fixed on Thea. “That’s old!”

  Older than Aimee had thought, but far from ancient. Still, he was almost nine years her elder. Was that why he wouldn’t look at her? Did he think she was a child?

  “Nate’s sister tells him he’s wasting the best years of his life by not being married.” Patience rejoined the conversation, and—unlike her cousin—she did not ignore Aimee. Instead, she gave her a conspiratorial smile when Nate’s smile turned into a frown.

  “Stop telling all the family secrets.”

  “That’s not a secret,” Patience insisted.

  Thea laughed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you two were siblings. You’re acting just like my nephews did when they were three and four.”

  Clasping his hand across his heart and feigning agony, Nate groaned. “A direct hit. And here I thought midwives were supposed to be kind and gentle.”

  “We are,” Thea told him, pausing for emphasis before she added, “with our patients.”

  “I’m cousin to Patience. Doesn’t that count?”

  “Bad pun, Nate. Shame on you.” Patience shook her finger at her cousin, then turned to Aimee. “Where were you two heading when we interrupted?”

  At least someone hadn’t forgotten her existence. Aimee shrugged. “Just giving Stuart some fresh air and wandering around town.” Now that she was not looking at Nate, Aimee had no problem speaking.

  “May we join you?”

  Aimee looked at Thea, waiting for her nod of approval before she said, “Of course.”

  “Perfect.” Patience linked her arm with Aimee’s for a second, then settled at her side, leaving Thea and Nate to follow them. And, in typical Patience fashion, she kept the conversation bubbling as they strolled down Main Street, stopping occasionally to admire the contents of a shop window or adjust the blanket that Stuart continued to tangle around his legs.

  Aimee knew it was foolish to be upset that Nate Kenton had barely acknowledged her existence. She also knew it was rude to try to eavesdrop on Thea and Nate, particularly since it meant not giving Patience her full attention, but Aimee couldn’t stop herself. While she couldn’t make out any of the words they spoke, there was no ignoring the laughter that punctuated almost every sentence.

  That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Somehow Nate Kenton had dispelled Thea’s morose mood, leaving her lighthearted. That was good. That was what her friend deserved. It shouldn’t bother Aimee that Nate had hardly spoken a word to her, and yet it did.

  “I wish I had more positive news,” Travis said as he riffled through the telegrams on his desk, “but so far no one has any missing women, and they don’t know of anyone who looks like our victim.”

  Jackson nodded. “I’m not really surprised.” Disappointed, but not surprised. His instincts had told him this would not be easy.

  “There’s still another half dozen towns. I imagine we’ll get their responses tomorrow. Maybe one of them will be what we’re waiting for.”

  Though he said nothing more, the way Travis glanced at the clock told Jackson he wanted to be home with Lydia. It was early evening, past the time when Travis was normally in his office, but he’d suggested they meet here after supper to see what telegrams had come in.

  Time to leave and let the sheriff go home. Jackson grabbed his hat and rose. “There’s no reason to keep you here any longer.”

  Travis gave him a grateful smile and reached for his own hat. As he approached the door, Jackson glanced out the window, his attention snagged by an approaching quartet. While it wasn’t unusual to see pedestrians on Main Street at this time of day, it was unusual to see four together.

  His gaze flitted over Aimee and the other woman who formed the vanguard, pushing a baby carriage that undoubtedly contained Stuart, then settled on the couple behind them. There was no mistaking their identities. Thea and Nate Kenton were laughing about something.

  Jackson took a quick breath as the scene registered. They weren’t touching. There was nothing unseemly about their conduct, and yet . . . He focused on Thea and the way she gazed at Nate. She looked happy and carefree. That shouldn’t bother him, and yet . . . Jackson couldn’t explain the sour feeling that had lodged in his stomach.

  He forced the bile down and turned back to Travis. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Right. Good night.”

  But it wasn’t a good night, Jackson realized as he strode north on Main. His temporary home was in the opposite direction, but Jackson knew he was in no mood to talk to anyone right now. As he passed the livery, he toyed with the idea of saddling Blaze and going for a ride, then dismissed it. Blaze deserved a rest.

  “What’s eating you?” Warner asked as Jackson entered the kitchen half an hour later. Warner had insisted there was no need for formality, that Jackson should consider this his home and forgo knocking. He
’d chosen the side door tonight, thinking he could escape conversation, but instead he discovered his friend seated at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in front of him.

  “Nothing,” he lied. “I’m just tired and discouraged. I had hoped someone would have claimed the dead woman by now.”

  The shadow of a smile tilted Warner’s lips. “My ma would have said you need to be patient.”

  “That’s something I was never good at.”

  Before Warner could respond, the door opened with such force that it bounced against the wall, and Nate strode inside, his eyes gleaming.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” He stopped in front of the table, fisting his hands on his hips.

  “Tell you what?”

  Nate dismissed Warner’s question. “Not you. Him.” He pointed a finger at Jackson. “Why didn’t you tell me she was so beautiful? She reminds me of one of those princesses in the storybooks my sister used to insist on reading to me.”

  A princess? That was not the way he would have described Thea, but Jackson wasn’t about to say that. This was a time to keep his mouth shut.

  “I tell you, fellas,” Nate continued, seemingly unconcerned by Jackson’s failure to respond, “today was the best day of my life. I can’t believe how fast it happened. One minute I was talking to my cousin. The next minute I saw her. One look was all it took for me to know she’s the woman I’m going to marry.”

  9

  We need to get out of town,” Jackson told Blaze as he led him from the livery the next morning. There was nothing for him here—at least not right now. Thea didn’t need him, especially since Nate planned to court her. Jackson had done what he’d promised: he’d found Stuart’s mother. And while he wished the circumstances surrounding his discovery of the woman had been different, he couldn’t change them.

  Travis had received word from the remaining towns, and—as Jackson had feared—no one recognized the dead woman. She’d be buried tomorrow in a grave with a simple wooden cross. Later, if they could locate her family and learn her name, someone might erect a stone marker, but for now she would be known as the Unidentified Woman.