Joline's Redemption (18 page)

Recognition hit her. “Alma Lou?”

Baron watched as delight engulfed Jo's pretty face. The women squealed so loud that the toddler and baby both jumped and started crying.

The woman Jo had called Alma Lou patted the baby and looked at the little girl. “Hush now, Charlotte. You're fine. I simply got excited when I saw my old friend. We went to school together when we both lived in Caldwell.”

Baron filed that information away to look up later. He had no idea where Caldwell was. He couldn't help smiling at seeing Jo so happy. Most of the time, she only smiled around him when she looked at her son, and that was a different kind.

“What are you doing in Guthrie?” Jo asked. “And look at you with two children.”

Alma Lou beamed. “This is Charlotte Ann and this is JJ. Short for Jerry Jr.”

Jo waved at the little girl and ran her hand over the baby's dark hair. “They're both so sweet. When did you move to Guthrie?”

“We didn't. We live in Wichita, but we're here visiting Jerry's older sister, Eloise.”

“How long will you be here?”

Alma Lou frowned. “We're leaving tomorrow. If only I'd known you were here.”

Baron dusted the packing straw off the counter and set the crate the new dishes had been shipped in by the back door. He tried not to listen, but he was curious about Jo's former life. Alma Lou was a fair-looking woman, but not nearly as pretty as Jo. He grabbed the broom and swept up the straw then emptied it into the yard out back.

As he returned, Alma Lou touched Jo's arm. “Tell me all about what you've been up to since I last saw you! Are you married?” Her eyes flicked in his direction. She leaned in close to Jo and whispered something he couldn't make out.

Jo's surprised gaze shot to him and back to her friend. Her cheeks turned a becoming rose color. “Um … no. Baron is my brother-in-law.”

“Oh. So where's your husband?”

Jo shifted her feet, obviously wrestling with her response.

“He's gone,” Baron offered, sounding a bit sad.

Alma Lou's eyes widened as she gasped. “Oh, Jo. I'm so sorry. You're so young to be a widow.”

Jo ducked her head. “Thank you.”

“If there's anything I can do, you let me know.”

“I will, but it's been a while now.”

“I'm sorry, but I have to run. I was hoping to find some teething cream for JJ. But you don't carry the brand I like.” She tugged her daughter away from the glass front of the counter. “We'll be back at Christmas, so I hope to see you then.”

Jo nodded as she walked with her friend to the door. “It was good to see you again.”

They hugged, and the moment the door closed, Jo spun around. “Thank you for coming to my rescue. I didn't know what to tell her about Mark.”

“Glad to help.” He walked down to the far end of the counter and polished away the fingerprints Charlotte left behind. “Vagueness is probably the best option. I merely said he was gone, but she made the assumption that he was dead.”

“True, but I do feel bad lying to Alma Lou. We were best friends once.”

“Care to tell me what happened?”

Jo shook her head and walked over to the spools of thread and straightened them.

Curious, Baron put the broom away and looked around the supply room for a new project. Whatever had caused the rift between friends must not have been too bad from the way they were acting today. Too bad the woman didn't live here. It would be good for Jo to have a friend in town.

He couldn't help wondering how many times Jo would be questioned about Mark. A number of the townsfolk had already inquired about him. Many would recognize Jo and remember that she was married—so they thought—to Mark and ask about him. He hadn't thought how hard that might be for her when he agreed to let her work for him and hoped most people wouldn't recognize her, but then she wasn't exactly forgettable. He'd hate for nosy customers to drive her away. Realizing he was staring, he stooped down behind the counter and rearranged the knives on the top shelf. Baron enjoyed having Jo here, having someone to talk to and discuss ideas with. Glancing at her, he watched her examine one of the ready-made dresses. He didn't know what would become of their relationship, such as it was. He only knew he wanted it to last a long time.

R
elief washed through Jo as she rode over a hill and saw Lara's home. She'd stayed much longer than planned, and with it being early April, the sun set by 6:45, but she'd made the long ride safely. Supper would be over, although Lara had probably saved her a plate. Though famished, she ached even more to see Jamie. She hadn't been separated from him for this long before and worried how he'd done. Sarah had agreed to keep him so that she could work and make money for them to go somewhere farther away, but tending a baby who wasn't yours all day could be a chore, even though Sarah loved Jamie.

Luke strode out of the barn as she rode up. He tipped his hat. “Evening, ma'am. I'll tend your horse for ya.”

Jo slid to the ground, her legs a bit shaky from the long ride. Luke McNeil was a good-looking cowboy, but he didn't interest her. Most times he was cocky, and his blue eyes twinkled, reminding her of Mark—a man she didn't want to be reminded of. “Thank you. It's been a long day.”

She entered through the kitchen door and washed up. Everything had been tidied, but the aroma of cooked beef still lingered, making her stomach fuss. Jamie first, then food. She started out of the kitchen, but her belly grumbled again, and she spun back to the stove where a plate covered with a towel sat. She lifted the edge and snagged a biscuit then hurried up the stairs.

An excited squeal came from her bedroom. She hurried toward it then paused at the door and peered in. Sarah sat on the floor with Jamie and Michael, in a circle. Michael stacked several squares of wood, and then Jamie knocked them over, giggling with delight. He grabbed a block, lifted his hand, and flung it toward Michael.

Sarah gently grabbed Jamie's hand. “Do not throw blocks.”

Jamie's lower lip stuck out, and his chin quivered. Jo could tell that his feelings were hurt and any second he'd burst out in a wail. She stepped forward, hoping that seeing her would distract him, but Michael clapped two blocks together, drawing her son's attention. Jamie smiled and bounced, waiting for Michael to restack the blocks. Then her son sent them flying once again, leaving Jo wondering how many times they had repeated the same action.

She smacked her lips, drawing the attention of all in the room.

“Ma–a!” Jamie cried.

Jo smiled, even though his name for her sounded more like something a baby goat would utter than a child. She rushed forward and picked him up, holding him close. “Yes, son, Mama's home.”

Jamie placed both of his chubby hands on her cheeks and gave her a damp, openmouthed kiss.

“He is happy to see you.” Sarah rose.

Michael placed the blocks in a wicker basket.

“Where's your ma?” Jo asked.

“In her room, feeding Lizzie.”

Jo flashed him a teasing look. “Her name is Beth.”

“That's not what Pa calls her,” the boy said as he left the room.

Jo sat down in the rocker. “How was Jamie today?”

“He miss you. Fussy some. Happy some.”

She kissed his fuzzy head. “I missed you, too—both of you.”

Sarah's gaze jerked to hers, as if surprised. “How did work go?”

“Good! And I saw an old friend.”

Sarah frowned as she crossed the room to the window. “You are not … afraid … for people to see you?”

She was, but how else could she earn the funds they needed? “I am, but I don't see that I have a choice.”

“You be careful. Badger hurt you if he find you.”

Sarah spoke the truth. Working at the store was risky, but it was her only option. Would Baron have hired her if he knew the money she was making would one day take her—and Jamie—away from him?

Jack paced across his small living room then turned and crossed it again. He paused by the window and looked up at the sky. They'd had a toad soaker of a storm, but it had passed and now the skies were clear, a rainbow decorating the horizon.
Lord, those boys need a home, and I know there's a family who needs those boys to love. Help me find them—and soon. I can't fail Nick and Lee like I did my sisters.
The memory of how he rode away from Lara and Jo and never returned still haunted him.

As he passed his desk, he glanced down at his sermon notes scrawled on a piece of paper. There wasn't much there, and the thoughts weren't flowing. All he could think about was the boys. He hated failing his church and being cast out like a leper, but God would take care of him—He always had. But he didn't want to have to hit the trail, not knowing where he was going, with those little boys in tow. They deserved a home. People to love them. If he had a place of his own, he'd keep them, but he didn't. All he owned could be packed in a set of saddlebags and a satchel.

Jack padded through the house to the back porch where the boys were supposed to be washing off. He tiptoed to the open back door and peeked out. Lee squealed as Nick poured a pitcher of water over his head.

“I guess you're as clean as I can get you. Get outta that tub.”

Lee shimmied out of the round metal washtub, shivering, and Nick wrapped a towel around him.

Jack leaned against the door frame. “Good job being a responsible big brother.”

Nick's gaze shot to his, and a rare smile lifted one side of his mouth.

“I can take this little rascal in and help him dress if you want to go ahead and take your bath.”

Nick nodded and nudged Lee toward Jack. He picked up the light youngster and threw him across his shoulders. “Look at this sack of potatoes I got.”

Lee giggled. “I ain't no tater.”

Holding tight to Lee's skinny legs, Jack carried him to the spare bedroom and lowered him to the bed. He dried off the child and helped him into a nightshirt that Cora had bought. Lee yawned and rubbed his eyes.

“You think you've got enough energy left for some milk and cake before you go to sleep?”

Lee instantly perked up and nodded his head.

Jack smiled. Maybe one day he'd have himself a fine boy like Lee. “Then let's head to the kitchen.”

Before he'd sliced the cake that a kind church lady had brought him, Nick sauntered in, his hair damp. The boy had washed in record time, but at least the dirt was off his face. “Have a seat. You're just in time for a snack.”

He poured two glasses of milk and a cup of lukewarm coffee then sliced three pieces of cake and set them on the table. As he reached to pull back his chair, someone knocked on the door.

His gut churned, but he smiled at the boys. “Looks like we've got company.” But company at this hour generally indicated something bad.

Jack opened the door and smiled. He didn't recognize the couple. The man yanked off his hat while the woman tried to peek past Jack.

“Can I help you? Are you lost?”

The woman's gaze jerked to his. “You're the pastor, are you not?”

Jack nodded. “Yes. I'm Pastor Jensen. What can I help you with?”

“We—”

The man gently clutched the woman's arm. “Let me talk, Emily.”

She smiled. “I'm sorry, Phillip. I'm just anxious.”

“I know.” The man caught Jack's eye again. “I'm Phillip McGrady, and this is my wife, Emily. We're from over near Pine Gulch. We heard you were looking for a home for a couple of boys, and we—” He placed his arm around his wife's shoulders. “Well, the good Lord hasn't blessed us with any children. We were hopin' we could meet the boys and see if they might be a good fit for us.”

Jack noticed the couple's clothing—though a bit damp—was of a fine cut, and their buggy was a newer model surrey with padded seats and a fringed top. They looked to be able to support a family, but he knew nothing about them. Could he give the boys to strangers?