A Tender Hope

by Amanda Cabot

It didn’t matter whether Jackson wheeled him in the baby buggy or placed him in the quilted carrier. The boy seemed to enjoy being outside as much as Jackson did. Jackson relished the activity, and Travis claimed it saved him and Edgar from having to do a morning inspection, because he knew Jackson would spot and report anything unusual.

  “You don’t stop being a lawman just because you’re carrying a baby,” Travis had said. “I know you’re always looking for anomalies.”

  “Guilty as charged.” Even though there’d been no sight of the Gang, Jackson was constantly vigilant. He tried to be circumspect about it, but he continued to worry about the Gang and its connection to Thea.

  “We ought to put you on the town’s payroll,” Travis said.

  He might be joking, but Jackson was taking no chances. “That’s not for me.” If he left the Rangers, it would be for something very different. But until he caught the Gang, there was no question of resigning. The fact that he needed to step up his search was the reason he needed to talk to Thea today.

  There she was. Jackson lengthened his stride when he saw Thea emerging from the Allens’ front door, then paused. Something was wrong. Even the day he’d taken her to view the body of Stuart’s mother she hadn’t looked this discouraged. Today Thea’s shoulders drooped, and her step was slow.

  “What’s wrong?” It wasn’t much of a greeting, but he couldn’t help it. Seeing Thea’s distress made Jackson forget the social niceties. He needed to learn what had happened so he could fix it.

  Thea looked up, clearly surprised to see him. “Nothing.”

  It was a lie. A bald-faced lie. If nothing was wrong, she wouldn’t look like this. Even more telling, she hadn’t peered into the buggy to check on Stuart.

  “I’m not buying that,” Jackson said firmly. “You look like you lost your best friend.” Perhaps she was worried about her patient. “Is Mrs. Allen all right?”

  “Yes.” Thea’s lips moved as if she wanted to say something else, but no words emerged. Finally, she spoke, her voice so soft that he had to take a step closer to hear her. “It’s silly. I know that, but I hate her perfume.”

  If it had come from another woman, Jackson would have agreed that the declaration sounded silly, but Thea was not a silly woman. She must have a good reason why her patient’s scent had her on the verge of tears.

  “What’s wrong with Mrs. Allen’s perfume?”

  Thea shuddered and laid a hand on the top of the baby buggy, as if to steady herself. “Daniel used to travel. When he came home, his shirts smelled like that.”

  Jackson felt the blood drain from his face. He had no difficulty believing that Daniel Michener was a robber and a member—perhaps the leader—of the Gang of Four, but the idea that he might have been unfaithful to Thea left him speechless.

  How could any man look at another woman if Thea were his wife? It was unthinkable, truly unthinkable. And yet Thea was standing there, her shoulders shaking with emotion, more vulnerable than Jackson had ever seen her. He had to say something. But what?

  “Did you ask him?”

  She nodded. “He said it was nothing for me to worry about.”

  Of course she worried. Anyone would have. “It might not have been what you’re thinking.” They were empty words. Jackson knew that, but he had to offer them.

  “What else could it have been?”

  “I don’t know.” As much as he tried, Jackson could not conjure an innocent reason why a man’s shirts would carry the scent of another woman’s perfume.

  15

  Thea took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves as she poured a bit of boiling water into the teapot, then swirled it to warm the pot. She still couldn’t believe she’d told Jackson her fears. She hadn’t told anyone, not even Sarah, about the perfume on Daniel’s shirts, but somehow the words had slipped out. Now Jackson knew her humiliating secret: her husband hadn’t loved her. The trips to San Antonio to purchase merchandise were merely a ruse, an excuse that allowed him to meet the woman with the distinctive perfume. Daniel had lied to her.

  She took another deep breath and gave thanks that Stuart had fallen asleep as soon as she’d brought him home. The boy was remarkably attuned to her moods. If he’d been awake, he would have fussed, as if to share her distress. For she was distressed.

  As much as she hated to admit it, Thea knew that Daniel wasn’t the only liar.

  She had lied by not telling Jackson the whole truth. She’d claimed that Daniel and Aaron’s deaths were why she’d left Ladreville. While that was true, it was only part of the reason she’d come to Cimarron Creek.

  The most important reason was that she needed a new home, one where no one had met Daniel, one where no one knew that anger outweighed her sorrow over his death. In Ladreville she would have had to pretend to be a grieving widow. In Cimarron Creek she could begin a new life, if only she could put the past behind her. But that was no simple matter, which was why she was making tea.

  After she emptied the now-warmed pot, Thea inserted the tea ball, then filled the pot with boiling water. In five minutes, she’d have perfectly brewed tea. And maybe, just maybe, the soothing beverage would help her make sense of what had happened.

  Until today she had believed that the way to rebuild her life was to pretend that the unhappy parts of the past had not occurred. If Sarah had known about Daniel’s infidelity, she would have tried to comfort her, but Thea knew that the comfort would have been mixed with pity, and she didn’t want that. It was better that no one knew, or so she’d believed. Now she was not so certain.

  As the clouds that had obscured the sun moved and a ray of sunshine spilled across the table, Thea managed a smile. She hadn’t planned to tell Jackson that she believed Daniel had been unfaithful, and yet now that she had, she couldn’t regret it, for his reaction had not been what she had expected. Thea wasn’t surprised by his shock and apparent sadness, but, to her immense relief, there had been no pity. Instead, there’d been something else in Jackson’s expression, an emotion she couldn’t identify.

  He hadn’t said much; he hadn’t offered any platitudes, but somehow he’d made her feel better, and that was unexpected. Though Thea hadn’t thought anything could ease her feeling of betrayal, the tenderness she’d seen in Jackson’s eyes had done that. He didn’t pity her; he didn’t blame her; he simply cared that she’d been hurt.

  She’d said it before, but now she knew just how true her words had been. Jackson Guthrie was an amazing man.

  Thea was sipping her second cup of tea when Aimee arrived home, her slower-than-normal gait signaling fatigue.

  “A hard day?”

  Aimee nodded and sank onto one of the chairs. “A busy one. We had more customers than ever.”

  Thea rose and pulled another cup and saucer from the cupboard. Normally Aimee would have helped herself, but today she appeared too tired for even that small effort. When she’d filled the cup and placed it in front of her friend, Thea tried to lighten the mood. “Including Patience?”

  Aimee shook her head. “Surprisingly, no. But Rachel came. She wanted one of the new tonics.” A wrinkled nose told Thea what Aimee thought of the patent medicines that claimed to cure everything from balding to dyspepsia but did little more than dull a patient’s senses with their high alcohol content. “I convinced her she didn’t need it, that all she needed was rest. The poor woman’s been run ragged caring for three children with chicken pox, and now her husband’s caught it.”

  “He’s probably the worst patient.”

  “That’s what she said.” Aimee took a sip of tea, then placed the cup back on the saucer, turning the cup ever so slightly until the handle was parallel to the edge of the table. The precision of her motions told Thea something was bothering her.

  “Rachel said another thing that puzzled me. She claimed I remind her of Warner. I thought it was because I was honest with her about the tonic—he told me to always do what was best for the customer, not the store—but she said that wasn’t it. She says I
have some of the same mannerisms.”

  Thea couldn’t imagine why the thought disturbed Aimee, but apparently it did. “You spend a lot of time with him. I suspect it’s only natural that you might mimic some of his gestures and expressions.”

  Aimee’s relief was palpable, and she flashed Thea a smile as she picked up her cup again. “That’s what I hoped you’d say. I don’t know why the idea of being like Warner bothered me, but it did. Maybe it’s because the last time she came in, Rachel wanted to play matchmaker for us.”

  Thea couldn’t help laughing. “She did? I thought Patience was interested in Warner.”

  “She is, and I couldn’t be happier. I just wish Rachel would stop meddling.”

  Aimee finished her cup of tea, then blinked. “I almost forgot,” she said as she reached into the reticule she’d placed on the floor next to her chair. “You have a letter from your sister.”

  As a shiver of concern made its way down Thea’s spine, she accepted the envelope. “It’s awfully soon for another letter.” Sarah had a schedule for almost everything, including writing letters. “I wonder if anything’s wrong.”

  “There’s only one way to know. I’ll check on Stuart while you read.”

  Thea slit the envelope open and withdrew two sheets of paper covered with her sister’s distinctive handwriting.

  Dear Thea,

  You’re probably surprised to receive a second letter from me this week, but something odd happened and I wanted you to know about it. Yesterday two strangers came to Ladreville. They entered the mercantile and claimed they were considering moving to town, but they wanted to meet the midwife before they did.

  Madame Rousseau was suspicious. This is the first time anyone’s asked about our midwife, and the woman did not appear to be expecting. Madame also said they didn’t act as if they were married. When she explained how to find Priscilla, the way they looked at each other made her even more uncomfortable. They said someone had mentioned a midwife with a different name.

  Apparently, another customer overheard the conversation, gave them your name, and told them you’d moved to Cimarron Creek. When they heard that, Madame Rousseau said they reacted as if they’d discovered a gold mine. It felt wrong to her, so when the other customer left, she told them you’d thought about Cimarron Creek but decided you wanted to live in a big city and had gone to Austin instead.

  It could all have been innocent, but Madame Rousseau was so concerned that I wanted to tell you to be alert. They didn’t give her their names, but she said the woman was unusually tall with medium brown hair and eyes. The man was about the same height with the same color hair and eyes and a prominent scar on his forehead.

  The letter continued for another few paragraphs, recounting some amusing anecdotes of life in Ladreville. Though Thea tried to interest herself in the news, questions whirled through her mind. Why would anyone be looking for her? It wasn’t as if people outside Ladreville knew she was a midwife. The only possibility Thea could imagine was that these were people Daniel had met and told about her profession, but she doubted that. Surely Daniel would have mentioned them to her. Or would he? The man had obviously kept secrets.

  Thea returned to the letter.

  Oh, one more thing, Sarah added in a postscript. Madame Rousseau said the woman wore strong perfume.

  Thea shuddered. Was it possible? Was the woman that Daniel used to meet searching for her? Why?

  Jackson sat in the kitchen, nursing a glass of buttermilk while he waited for Warner to come home from work. Normally he enjoyed the cold beverage, but today it seemed almost tasteless, its flavor masked by his concerns. Poor Thea! The woman had endured more than he’d realized. Jackson’s head was still reeling from the almost incredible revelation that Daniel had been unfaithful. How could any man even consider straying if he were married to Thea? But Daniel had.

  Jackson couldn’t forget Thea’s stricken expression or the way her shoulders had slumped with defeat. She’d reacted the way any woman would have under the circumstances, being hurt by her husband’s actions and perhaps fearing that all men were like Daniel. They weren’t. Jackson’s father and older brothers had never strayed, and he knew he would not break his vows if he married.

  The story of Daniel’s betrayal had left Jackson speechless. He’d wanted to reassure Thea, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he’d fingered the sketch that he’d planned to show her, then dismissed the idea. He had waited this long to tell Thea her husband had been an outlaw; he could wait a bit longer. Thea needed time to recover from the obvious pain that came from discussing the wounds Daniel Michener had inflicted before she absorbed another blow.

  Jackson took a slug of buttermilk as he considered his next steps. As much as he hated leaving Thea when she was so vulnerable, he needed to get some answers about Thea’s husband. Instead of staying in Cimarron Creek, waiting for the Gang to make a move, he would do what he’d been trained to do—start at the beginning. In Michener’s case, that meant the orphanage near Boerne.

  If there was one thing Jackson knew, it was that childhood experiences shaped the rest of a person’s life. He might not find all the answers he sought there, but he was confident he’d find some.

  As renewed energy flowed through him, Jackson grinned. This was what he needed: something positive to do.

  The back door swung open, and Warner entered, followed by Nate. “I hope you don’t mind, but when I told Nate Mrs. Higgins made chicken and dumplings for us, he practically begged me to let him come.”

  Nate shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a desperate man. Every time she brings her chicken and dumplings to a potluck dinner, they’re gone before I can get a taste.” Nate feigned a look of deep despair that brought a smile to Jackson’s face.

  “I told him we’d let him have a small serving,” Warner explained.

  “And I agreed as long as Warner considered a gallon a small serving.”

  Jackson’s smile broadened as his friends continued their normal bantering. “It’s easy enough to set another place.”

  Half an hour later, Jackson had to agree with Nate’s assessment. Mrs. Higgins’s chicken and dumplings were the best he’d ever eaten.

  “Thanks, fellas,” Nate said as he sopped up the remaining juice with a piece of bread, “but food’s not the only reason I wanted to see you tonight. I need your advice.”

  “About what?” Warner leaned back in his chair, his expression inscrutable.

  “Women. What else?”

  “You still thinking about the same woman?” Warner asked the question that had been on the tip of Jackson’s tongue. He wouldn’t ask, though, because he wasn’t certain he would like the answer.

  “Yep. She’s the one for me. I know it, but now I’m worried that I might not be the one for her.”

  “Why not?” As far as Jackson could see, Thea would be perfect for any man. She was smart, caring, and generous with everything she had. If Daniel hadn’t appreciated her, the man was a fool. Of course, Jackson reflected, he’d already proven that by getting mixed up with the Gang.

  Nate’s expression said the answer should be apparent. “I’m a farmer, and she’s a princess. I keep trying, but I can’t picture her as a farmer’s wife. It’s hard work, and it can be lonely. I’m not sure she’s strong enough for that.”

  Those weren’t the reasons Jackson had expected. Though she was small in stature, Thea was the strongest woman Jackson had ever met, not that he planned to tell Nate that. If the man hadn’t figured that out on his own, he didn’t deserve Thea. But when Warner remained silent, Jackson knew he needed to speak.

  “I think you’re wrong about that, Nate. Strength is more than muscles. Some ladies have more inner strength than any man.” Thea must have to have survived her husband’s betrayal followed by his death and their son’s.

  “Jackson’s right.” Warner rejoined the conversation. “There are all kinds of strength. If she loves you, that inner strength will help her overcome any loneliness.”


  Nate was silent for a moment as he drained his coffee mug. “How do I know if she loves me?”

  Jackson couldn’t help laughing. “You’re asking two bachelors? Why don’t you talk to Travis or your brother-in-law? It seems to me they’d know a lot more than Warner and I do.”

  “I can’t ask them.” Nate appeared horrified by the mere thought. “They’ll laugh and think this is like every other time and that I’ll lose interest. I won’t. This time is different. She’s different. I’m different.”

  It was clear that Warner wasn’t convinced, even though Nate sounded sincere to Jackson’s ears.

  “Does she know how you feel?” Other than the one evening when he’d seen them walking on Main Street, Jackson hadn’t seen Nate and Thea together.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?” Warner sounded outraged. “Haven’t you told her how you feel?”

  “Nope.”

  “That’s a problem.” Even a bachelor like Jackson knew that. “The only way you’ll know if she cares about you is to tell her how you feel.” If a man who’d never courted a woman knew that, why didn’t Nate, who had wooed at least half a dozen women?

  “You make it sound easy, but it isn’t. What if she laughs at me?”

  Jackson could not imagine Thea being so cruel, but before he could say that, Warner spoke. “Then you’ll have your answer. It may not be the one you want, but at least you’ll know.”

  Nate nodded, then fixed his gaze on Warner. “You gonna tell your gal how you feel?”

  Jackson stared at the man whose home he shared. Though they’d talked about almost everything else, Warner had said nothing about courting.

  “What do you mean?” he demanded.

  Nate looked as if he’d expected Warner’s question. “I saw the way you looked at Patience when we were at Travis’s. You had the same look on your face when you saw her after church. You’re smitten, my friend, so when are you gonna start courting her?”

  Warner’s expression was that of a man who’d just swallowed a dose of bitter medicine. “I can’t do that to her.”