A Tender Hope

by Amanda Cabot

  It wasn’t a total surprise. Jackson was simply confirming what Thea had feared. She shouldn’t have been shocked, and yet she felt as if she’d been bludgeoned. As the blood drained from her head, she whispered the word that reverberated through her brain. “Why?”

  “Why do I think that Helen was a victim of mistaken identity, or why was someone looking for you?” Jackson asked.

  “Both.”

  He leaned forward, the coffee cup clasped between his hands. “A couple came to Leakey, asking about the town’s midwife. When they didn’t like what they heard, they showed the owner of the mercantile a watch with a woman’s picture. The owner thought it was Helen.”

  Thea closed her eyes, trying to subdue the sorrow that threatened to overwhelm her. Inquiries about a midwife, a watch with her portrait. This was no coincidence, and as a result an innocent woman was dead, a baby motherless.

  “It was Daniel’s watch.”

  “That seems likely.”

  More than likely; it was the only plausible explanation. Even if Helen Bradford’s husband had once carried a watch with her portrait in it, there was no reason strangers would have it. Daniel’s watch, on the other hand, had been missing since his death.

  Thea forced herself to open her eyes, wishing there were another explanation, wishing she did not feel so guilty. “That poor woman was killed because someone wanted to find me.” It was almost unthinkable, and yet everything pointed to that conclusion.

  The September morning that Thea had greeted with pleasure, basking in the satisfaction of her successful delivery, had lost its luster. Though the sky was still as clear, the breeze as soft, it might as well have been gray and foggy for all the joy the day gave Thea.

  Jackson nodded slowly. “I’m afraid so. I can’t imagine any other reason, especially since the people were obviously looking for you. The first thing they asked about was the midwife.”

  Thea took a sip of coffee, trying to settle her nerves as well as her stomach, and as she did, the memory of Sarah’s letter resurfaced.

  “I should have told you about a letter my sister sent me.” It wouldn’t have changed anything. Helen Bradford had been killed before the letter was written, but it might have been some help to Jackson. “A couple came to Ladreville a few days after I left. Sarah didn’t say anything about them having Daniel’s watch, but they asked about me at the mercantile. One of the customers told them I’d come here, but the owner was suspicious of them, so she claimed I’d changed my mind and gone to Austin.”

  As she’d expected, the news did not please Jackson. “The Gang is obviously not giving up.”

  “The Gang?”

  “It’s the only answer that explains why your husband was killed and someone’s searching for you. The Gang is looking for something, and they believe you have it. That’s why they ransacked Helen’s house.”

  Thea shuddered. Another awful thing to happen, all because Helen had the misfortune to resemble her.

  “What are they looking for? I don’t have anything.” The most valuable thing Thea owned was a pair of earrings that had been her mother’s, and those were safe in her jewelry box. She’d worn them to church just last week.

  “There’ve been rumors that one of the Gang took off with all the gold from the last heist instead of splitting it with the others. Based on everything that’s happened, I’d say the rest of the Gang believes Daniel had the gold and refused to tell them where it was. That would explain why they killed him and started looking for you. They obviously believe you either have the gold or know where it is.”

  Jackson placed his cup back on the table and waited for Thea to respond.

  “I don’t have any gold, and Daniel didn’t either. He was always worried about having enough money to support us once the baby was born. He wouldn’t have been like that if he’d had a lot of gold, would he?”

  Though she’d hoped that Jackson would reassure her, he did not. “That would depend on where he’d hidden it and how secure he thought it was.” He was silent for a moment. “It was two months between the last robbery and when he was killed. Did Daniel seem different during that time?”

  Thea tried to remember something—anything—that might have changed, but she could not. At the time, she’d been caught up in the wonder of her pregnancy, becoming more inwardly focused. It was a stage she’d noticed in many of her patients, particularly as they awaited the birth of their first child.

  If Daniel had done anything unusual, she hadn’t noticed it. But that was a time when she’d also been preoccupied with the perfume she’d detected on his shirts, despite his stubborn denial of any wrongdoing. Perhaps the fact that she had been questioning Daniel’s love and whether their marriage had been a mistake had blinded her to changes in her husband’s behavior.

  “I don’t know. I don’t remember anything special.” Thea closed her eyes for a second, remembering the sight of Helen Bradford’s body. “I’m still reeling over the fact that I was responsible for Helen’s death.” While she had lost a few patients and had mourned their deaths, Thea had always known that they’d died despite her best efforts, that she’d done everything in her power to save them. Helen was different.

  Jackson reached out and clasped both of her hands in his. “Look at me, Thea. It wasn’t your fault. You had nothing to do with it. You didn’t even know Helen, so how could you be responsible?”

  He was trying to reassure her the way she’d tried to tell him that he had not been responsible for Micah’s death, but it wasn’t working. “Helen died because she looked like me. You said that yourself.”

  “I did, and I’m going to be honest with you. That worries me. I don’t want to frighten you, but everything I’ve learned tells me you’re in danger until I catch the rest of the Gang.”

  Thea knew he felt her fingers tremble as the implications of his words registered. “What should I do?”

  He tightened his grip on her hands. “You’re probably safe here in town, but you shouldn’t leave Cimarron Creek alone.”

  “I’ll take a shotgun with me. I’m a good shot.”

  Jackson frowned. “I don’t care whether you can hit the bull’s-eye every time. You’d be one person against two or three of them. Those are not favorable odds, especially considering that the Gang are all crack shots.”

  She knew he was trying to protect her, and Thea appreciated that, but Jackson didn’t understand the reality of her profession. “I can’t stop calling on my patients.” No one knew how long it would take him to find Daniel’s former partners, and babies were notorious for their poor timing. Thea had to be ready to travel to an expectant mother’s bedside on a moment’s notice.

  For the first time since they’d begun the conversation, Jackson’s lips started to curve into a smile. “I didn’t ask you to stop. I’ll go with you.”

  24

  Jackson studied Thea as he settled back in the buggy. Once again, she’d surprised him, this time by agreeing so readily to his accompanying her whenever she left Cimarron Creek. Though he’d expected an argument, despite the fact that she had obviously been shaken by what he’d discovered in Leakey, she’d simply nodded, her face white with shock. And now, four days later, he’d helped her into the buggy as if it were an everyday occurrence for him to travel to a patient’s home with her.

  But it was not normal, not yet, and today’s destination was anything but normal. This morning she was calling on Ethel Harris, Helen Bradford’s cousin and the woman who might become Stuart’s adoptive mother. Though it had to be difficult, Thea gave no sign of nervousness. She was a strong woman, stronger than she realized.

  “Are you certain you don’t mind my driving?”

  Jackson smiled as he looked at the woman who occupied so many of his thoughts. She might be strong—and she was—but she also had insecurities. Not for the first time, Jackson wished Daniel Michener were still alive so he could take him to task for what he’d done to Thea.

  “I consider this a luxury,” he tol
d her. “It isn’t often I can relax.”

  The truth was, he wasn’t relaxed. There was no possibility of relaxing when he knew Thea might be in danger, so he kept a lookout for anything unusual. Not having to control the horse let him do that as well as admire his companion.

  Today, dressed for work, Thea had her hair pulled back in a chignon and wore a simple white blouse and deep green skirt. While he preferred the loose curls and pretty dress she’d worn the night of the square dance, Jackson knew she could never be anything but lovely. Lovely, strong, and ever on his mind.

  He shifted his position so that he could look in both directions without alerting Thea to what he was doing. As he’d ridden back from Leakey, Jackson had worried about how to break the news of what he’d discovered to Thea and how she would react.

  Anyone would be distressed by what had happened to Helen Bradford, but for a woman already dealing with a number of shocking revelations, the knowledge that another woman had been killed simply because of her resemblance to her must have been almost overwhelming. Yet, Thea hadn’t fainted. She hadn’t even cried, though he’d seen tears hovering on her eyelashes, waiting to be blinked away. She hadn’t surrendered to fear. Instead, her expression had become determined, as if she refused to let the Gang change her life.

  Jackson did not believe that she had underestimated the threat—Thea was too smart to do that—but she would not be cowed by it. What an amazing woman!

  His smile broadened as he remembered that Thea had once called him amazing. She was wrong; he was an ordinary man, but she was an extraordinary woman. She’d survived tragedy and disillusionment and appeared to be thriving. Amazing!

  Jackson looked down at the boy in his arms. Though he’d fussed for a minute when Thea had picked up the reins, Stuart now seemed to be entertained by the sight of his hands, which he was waving furiously in front of his face. “Stuart seems to enjoy riding in your buggy.”

  A sweet smile crossed Thea’s face as she darted a glance at the baby. “I think he likes any kind of motion. That’s one of the reasons either Aimee or I take him out in his carriage most nights.”

  “So that’s why Nate has been spending so many evenings in town instead of out with those goats of his.”

  Jackson was still embarrassed by the memory of how he’d mistaken the object of Nate’s affections. The first few times Warner had teased Nate about his ladylove, Jackson had merely gritted his teeth, not wanting to think about Thea being courted by another man. Now, in hindsight, he knew he should have realized it was Aimee who’d caught Nate’s eye, not Thea. Instead, Jackson had let his own attraction to Thea cloud his judgment. He’d tried to deny it, but the truth was, he’d been attracted to Thea from the day he met her.

  Forcing his gaze away from the woman who dominated his thoughts, Jackson glanced in all directions. When he’d reassured himself that there was no danger, he turned back to Thea.

  “I probably shouldn’t say this about my friend, but Nate seems besotted with Aimee.”

  “I probably shouldn’t say this about my friend”—Thea chuckled as she repeated Jackson’s words—“but it’s mutual. Cimarron Creek’s matchmakers must be gloating about their success: Nate and Aimee, and Warner and Patience.”

  “Whoa!” When Thea’s horse stopped, Jackson shook his head. “That wasn’t meant for Maggie. I was telling my brain to stop whirling. Did you say Warner and Patience?”

  Thea’s smile widened as she flicked the reins. “According to Aimee, they’re on the verge of becoming a courting couple.”

  “And he never said a word to me.”

  “Do men talk about things like that?”

  It was a good question. Jackson couldn’t remember ever hearing his brothers discuss the women they married, but perhaps they’d confided in each other. “Nate did, but he might be the exception.” After all, Jackson hadn’t said anything about his growing feelings for Thea.

  To his way of thinking, she should be the first to know, but even though the image of Thea as his wife seemed to have been indelibly etched on his brain and even though it popped into his thoughts when he least expected it, Jackson knew Thea wasn’t ready to hear that he harbored tender hopes with her as their centerpiece.

  First steps first. Thea needed to recover from the wounds Daniel had inflicted, and Jackson needed to capture the remaining members of the Gang. Only then could he move on to the next stage of his life.

  At least now he knew what the Gang members looked like. Matt Driscoll’s telegram had confirmed the description Thea’s sister had shared. The couple who’d visited both Ladreville and Leakey were brown-haired with brown eyes. That would have made them unremarkable, but the woman was taller than normal, and the man had a jagged scar on his forehead. When Jackson came face-to-face with them, it would not be difficult to identify them. But first he had to find them.

  The silence that followed his assessment of Nate was broken when Thea pointed toward a creature waddling across the road. “An armadillo. I didn’t know they came out during the day.”

  “They don’t normally. Maybe this one is hungry.” Jackson looked around, studying the countryside, searching for any other reason that the armor-plated critter might have left its burrow. Nothing seemed unusual, and he had no sense of danger. As if to confirm his assessment that the armadillo simply wanted to eat, Stuart began to whimper. It was, Jackson knew from experience, the predecessor to the “I’m hungry” cry that frequently came at this time of the day.

  “It looks like the armadillo isn’t the only one who wants to eat. What do you have for Stuart today—pot roast with carrots and onions or chicken with green beans?” It was a silly question, designed to make Thea laugh, since Stuart was too young for solid food.

  As Jackson had hoped, Thea chuckled and inclined her head toward the bag she’d placed on the floor between them. “We ran out of pot roast, so he’ll have to make do with milk. There’s a bottle in the sack.”

  When Stuart latched on to the nipple, Jackson shifted the child so he could drink more easily. “Stuart’s a better eater than Micah. We had to give him goat’s milk.”

  The instant the words were out of his mouth, Jackson regretted them. Why had he brought up Micah today? He’d wanted this to be a happy day for both of them, and speaking of Micah was not the way to ensure that. Sorrow mingled with guilt rose up to ambush him.

  For a moment, Jackson thought Thea might let his comment pass without a reply, but he was not so fortunate. “That’s happened with a few of my patients,” she said. “They can’t tolerate human or cow’s milk, but for some reason, goat’s milk agrees with them.”

  She turned her gaze from the road to Jackson. “Do you mind talking about Micah?”

  To Jackson’s surprise, he shook his head. As much as he’d avoided speaking of his brother, somehow it felt right to discuss him with Thea. “What would you like to know?”

  She gave him a reassuring smile, as if she knew he hadn’t planned to agree. “Why did your parents name him Micah? It seems that the rest of you were named for presidents.”

  “You’re right. Quincy, Jefferson, and I owe our names to presidents my parents admired. Micah did not like being different. At one point, he demanded that we call him Washington. That didn’t last long.”

  “Why not?”

  “Our father, who’s a no-nonsense man, informed Micah that he had a perfectly good name and that was what everyone would use.”

  Thea winced as if she shared Micah’s unhappiness over the decree. “I can’t imagine that he liked that.”

  “He didn’t, but then our mother told him she knew he would be a special child, and that’s why she gave him a special name.”

  “Did that satisfy him?”

  Jackson nodded. “The real story is that my mother was studying the book of Micah when her labor began, and that’s how she chose his name.”

  “It’s a good story.” Thea glanced at Stuart, then returned her attention to the road. “What was Micah like when he
was growing up?”

  That was an easy question to answer. “Micah was the most curious person I’ve ever met. It seemed he was always getting into trouble. Not deliberately, but because he wanted to discover something.”

  Thea raised an eyebrow, seemingly unconvinced. “Give me an example.”

  “He was fascinated by our windmill and decided to climb it, because he wondered what it would feel like to touch one of the blades while it was spinning. You can guess what happened.”

  “He fell off.”

  “And broke both arms.” Jackson shook his head, remembering how worried their mother had been when she’d seen what Micah had done to himself. “Can you imagine what that was like for an active five-year-old? He couldn’t even feed himself.”

  “Were you the one he turned to then?”

  “Yes. How’d you guess?”

  The smile Thea flashed at him said the reason should be apparent. “You once told me you’d cared for him when he was an infant. I assumed you’d continued being more than just a big brother.”

  “You’re right. I did.”

  She gave him a look so filled with admiration that it made Jackson’s heart swell. It had been months since thoughts of Micah had brought him anything but pain, but Thea’s questions had resurrected happy memories, reminding him of all that he’d shared with his younger brother.

  “Micah was lucky to have you. Not all brothers would have been so kind, especially given the age difference.”

  Jackson nodded, acknowledging the truth in her observation. Quincy and Jefferson hadn’t been particularly sympathetic when he’d sprained an ankle and couldn’t compete in the three-legged race at the fair. Perhaps that was part of the reason he’d volunteered to help Micah.

  “Don’t make me out to be a saint. There were times when I considered him a pest and did everything I could to shake him, but he was like a sand burr and wouldn’t be shaken off.”

  “But you loved him.”

  “I did.”

  Seeing that Stuart was no longer interested in eating, Jackson placed the bottle back in the sack and stared at the road ahead. Micah was not what he’d wanted to talk about, and yet he couldn’t deny that these memories of his brother were pleasant ones that left him feeling more at peace than he had since Micah’s death. It felt good to remember and even better to share that portion of his past with Thea. If she was going to be part of his life—and Jackson hoped she would—she needed to understand what had made him the person he was, and he needed to learn more about her.