Another Chance (29 page)

"Annabelle has you, me, your ma, James.  Even if Jillian had to leave to tend an animal, your daughter would hardly be abandoned."

Maybe not.  But he'd been helpless to keep Annabelle from losing her mother at such a young age.  The least he owed her, when he did decide to remarry, was to give her a mother who would be there for her.  Who wasn't in danger-not only from the town but also by the very profession she'd chosen.

"She deserves a mother who'll be with her."

"Oh, for the love of Pete."  Scott threw his pole next to Wade's.  "There are things more important in life than who will cook her damn breakfast!"

Wade gaped as his usually affable friend went hot under the collar.

"Let me tell you what Annabelle needs.  She needs love, respect and to know that she's safe."

When Wade had accepted the fishing pole he'd expected a little quiet camaraderie by the creek, he hadn't expected to get torn into.  It turned his already foul mood rancid.

"And how would you know this?" Wade demanded, his hands on his hips.  "You have ample experience with children you've kept to yourself all these years?"

Scott's face went hard as the rocks that lined the creek.  "I'd have given anything for what Annabelle has.  A real home.  A family.  A father she knows, never mind adores.  I'd have given anything for a mother who loved me enough to leave me the hell alone!"

Scott had never mentioned his past before and he looked as surprised to have said it as Wade was to have heard it.  Scott wiped his mouth with his sleeve, took in great gulps of air.  Wade wasn't sure what to say or do and Scott's silence wasn't helping.

But as the crickets resumed their chirping, Scott nodded to the poles.  "You mind taking those back?"

"Uh, no," Wade answered.

But it was too late, he was already talking to Scott's back.

***

Wade stayed by the creek a little longer.  With Scott gone, he was finally alone to dwell on everything that had gone on today.  He lay back on the grass, watched the stars emerge, and tried to lasso his wandering thoughts.

Scott's words resonated in his ears.  What did he mean by he wished his mother had loved him enough to leave him alone?   Hell, since Scott was so tight-lipped about his past--the only thing he'd ever said was he was from Colorado--Wade had figured he'd been orphaned or some such thing.  Instead it sounded like that might have been a better alternative.

Which brought Wade around to Scott's other words.  That all a child needed was to be loved, to feel safe and to have a home.  Annabelle had all of those things, he'd seen to it.  But unlike Scott who didn't seem to have happy memories of being a youngster, Wade did.  He could look back and remember his ma kissing his scrapes, his ma helping him read, his ma kissing his forehead at night, long after he'd told her he was too big to be kissed by his ma.

Annabelle had had all that with Amy.  Until Amy had decided to be a midwife.  Then, there'd been check-ups, long nights of delivering a baby, follow-up visits to ensure mother and child were doing fine.  She'd missed meals.  She hadn't always been back by Annabelle's bedtime.  Then the accident happened and she hadn't been there at all.  If only Jillian wasn't a doctor.  If only she'd be happy being a wife and mother.

If only he hadn't already given her his heart.

It was a simple plan, but that didn't make it easy.  In the hours Jillian had lain awake listening to her animals and mulling over her situation she'd made some decisions.  Firstly, while she could certainly keep her animals safe at night by sleeping in the barn, she couldn't always be home, nor she did she intend on sleeping in the barn indefinitely.

Hope, and the dog if she found one, would be safe as if Jillian left her property, she'd have them both with her.  But that wouldn't keep Zeke and Rascal safe.

And she wouldn't have them killed because of her.

So after folding her bedding and tossing it over the rail, Jillian went into Rascal's pen.  His masked face peered at her.  His little hands pressed on the bars.

"You want out?  Well, you're about to get your wish."

She dragged his cage outside, unwound the wire that was holding the door closed.  It was bittersweet saying goodbye.  On the one hand she'd always felt he was a wild animal that shouldn't be caged, but on the other hand, she loved the way he looked at her.  The chattering noises he made when she brought him food or talked to him.

"Now don't be coming in the house and making a mess or you'll be right back where you started."  Or worse, if whomever bought Jillian's house once she moved on wasn't as forgiving as she was.

Maybe he'd learned his lesson, time would tell.  But he looked from the cage to the house, house to cage as though he understood one would lead to the other.  Then with a twitch of his pointed nose, he ambled for the trees.

Zeke wouldn't be as simple to deal with but Jillian had little doubt that by the end of the day, he'd have a home.  In the meantime, she stored Rascal's cage with Whiskers' empty one, and with the shotgun handy, went about her morning chores.

Within two hours, she was clean, dressed and Hope was saddled.  She'd fashioned a rope collar for Zeke and tied the other end of the rope to Hope's saddle.  It would take longer to walk to town that way, but it would guarantee the animal's safety.

As for the cow and calf, she just had to hope they'd be safe for a few hours.  Since the cow had milk and the heifer could be sold come fall, Jillian could only hope that if anything, they'd be stolen rather than hurt.

Apparently Monday mornings meant brisk business in Cedar Springs.  Several wagons rattled by.  A stagecoach was loading in front of the post office, already its roof was half-filled with trunks and bags.  With school now through until fall, children of varying heights walked alongside their mothers while the younger ones toddled along the boardwalk, their little fists clasped in their mother's long skirts.

Jillian had always drawn stares but she seemed to draw more than usual as she rode in with Zeke.  Usually she smiled at them, regardless of their attitude, but she didn't have the heart to this morning.

Shane stepped out of the sheriff's office as she rode by.  For him she fashioned a smile, pulled Hope to a stop.

Shane looked at Zeke.  "A goat isn't much in the way of protection."

Jillian accepted his help down.  "I can't protect him when I'm not home.  I kept him because he was left to me but I don't want him hurt.  I was hoping someone might like to take him."

"Hmm.  Can't say I know anybody.  Anyhow, I'm glad you're here."  He glanced around but there were a lot of folks rambling the street.  "Come inside for a minute, I have some news."

In the jailhouse, Shane perched on a corner of his desk.  Jillian settled in a chair.

"Steven's friends deny killing your rabbit."

"I hardly expected them to admit it."

"Maybe not, but I'm usually a good judge of folks.  Of them all, I'm most likely to believe it was Bill, the livery owner."

"But you said he denied it."

"He did, but I spoke to his wife.  She claims she heard Bill leave the room that night.  Of course he claims he just went to the outhouse."

"Was he gone long?  Maybe if he didn't come right back…"

Shane shook his head.  "I thought of that.  She said she fell back asleep and has no idea how long he was gone."

"Have you asked Harvey Black?"  Jillian told Shane about her visit to his place and his comment about dealing with animals if he needed to.

"I went over there but he wasn't home.  Steven didn't think he was back from Bozeman yet."

So he had gone to advertise for her replacement.  Well, it seemed as though her future was set no matter what she wanted.  Her time in Cedar Springs was coming to an end.  Still, if she was going to be forced out, she wanted to know the rest.

"It was all Steven then?  I mean, other than killing Whiskers?"

"The saddle and the feed were.  He's claiming he's innocent of the rest.  And, as I said, his friends deny any involvement."

"Well, these things didn't happen on their own!"

Shane held up a hand.  "I'm not done with them, Jillian.  I'll be talking to their wives when they're at work.  I'll also be checking in on them here and there throughout the day.  They're going to get good and sick of me with the amount of time I'll be spending watching them.  Hopefully, that'll be enough to leave you alone.

"And I haven't forgotten about Harvey.  He'll be back soon, so I'll keep checking on him, as well."  He paused.  "It's all I can do, Jillian.  Hopefully it will be enough."

It might make the attacks stop, but it wouldn't assure she'd get work.  Yet she appreciated Shane's efforts and thanked him before stepping outside.

A little girl crouched next to Zeke, giggling when he tried to nibble her skirt.  Her mother watched, a warm smile of adoration on her face.

"His name is Zeke and don't let his handsome looks fool you, he'll eat that skirt until it's gone if you let him," she said.

The mother grabbed her daughter's hand.  "I'm sorry, she saw the goat and ran over.  We'll leave now."

"You think he's handsome?" the little girl asked.

Jillian knelt close.  "Of course he is.  Look at those big brown eyes of his, and the smart grey whiskers on his chin."

"And these things," the little girl said, touching the two loose furry growths that hung from each side of the neck.

"Those are called wattles," Jillian said.

"Really?" her mother asked, looking in closer.  "I never knew that."

Jillian looked at her, smiled.  "I didn't either until my father taught me.  He was a veterinarian as well," she added.

The woman nodded, placed a hand on her daughter's bonnet.  "You learned at his side?"

"I did," Jillian straightened, then shifted to keep the sun from her eyes.  "My fondest memories are of times we spent together."

"He's passed?"

"Yes," Jillian admitted.  Her heart squeezed briefly.  "Earlier this spring."

"I'm sorry for your loss.  Come Ruth," she said to her daughter.  "It's time to go."

"But, Mama."

"Ruth," she said.  "We've kept Miss Matthews long enough."

"Oh, well, I don't mind.  I've enjoyed talking with you both."

The woman looked startled for a moment, then nodded her head.  "I have as well.  I'm Mary, by the way.  My husband Justin is the blacksmith."

And he was a friend of Steven's.  But she wouldn't judge Mary by her husband.

"Pleased to meet you.  You know, Mary, I was on my way to the mercantile to ask Mrs. Daniels if she'd know of anyone who might like to have Zeke."  She looked to Ruth, grinned.  "You wouldn't know of anyone, would you?"

Ruth clasped Zeke around the neck.  "Mama, we could keep him!"

Mary didn't seem sure.  "Oh, but-"

"I'm not asking you to pay for him.  I simply want him to go to a good home."  She smiled at Ruth.  "And to be given lots of love."

"Can we keep him, Mama?  Please?"

"Really, Mary, you'd be doing me a favor.  But," she added, since she didn't want Zeke to have the same fate as Whiskers, "only if this won't upset your...family."

Mary blinked.  "No, he spoils Ruth."  She looked from her daughter's smiling face to Jillian.  "Well, if you're sure..."

Jillian untied Zeke and handed the rope to Ruth.  "Mind that he doesn't eat too many of your dresses, it will give him a belly ache."

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of him."  Then before Jillian knew what had hit her, the little girl was wrapped around her legs.

Laughing, Jillian patted her back, met Mary's smile.  "You're very welcome."

Suddenly Jillian had the feeling she was being watched.  She said her goodbyes to Mary and Ruth and looked around.  The stagecoach had gone; a few wagons remained in front of the mercantile.  She looked left.  Two men were walking into the barber's, but she saw no sign of Steven or anybody else that seemed particularly interested in what she was doing.

Yet, as she made her way to Letty's store to ask about a puppy, she couldn't shed the feeling that someone was keeping an eye on her.

***

Steven lifted his head as they filed into his feed mill.

"What the hell are you doing?" he cursed.

"Ain't no law against coming in here," Harvey answered as he led the pack to the counter where Steven was standing.

Steven's stomach knotted.  He came round the counter, strode across to the window and saw his fear was warranted.  The sheriff was heading their way.

"Goddammit!  Shane's on his way!"  His eyes snapped to Harvey's.  "I told you the man hasn't left me alone in days.  I told you to stay clear of me.  I'm not spending no more time in jail!"

"We ain't done nothin' wrong," Harvey placated.

"Well, tell him that," Steven muttered as Shane pushed open the door.

Dust motes flittered on the breeze that Shane's entrance created.  Though he knew he'd done nothing wrong, sweat dampened his neck.  He'd kept his nose clean since being let of jail but he still felt like a prisoner.  Of course with Shane stopping in at least twice a day and making "neighborly" visits to Steven's house, was it any wonder he felt like a damn criminal?