Brides of Idaho (45 page)

But she would not allow him to get ahead of her, just in case he meant to abandon the boy.

R
udy’s insides still ached. Flailing away at the trees hadn’t eased the tension at all. Only made him feel foolish and vulnerable when Joanna discovered him. But he was tired of fighting a ten-year-old. He wanted for them to be friends, but if that wasn’t possible, he wanted to return to his cowboy life.

Joanna made it clear what she thought of the idea. Easy for her to have the answers. But even if Freddy came around, what was he to do? He didn’t have a place for Freddy, and winter would soon be upon them.

As they approached the looming buildings of the main street, Joanna grabbed his elbow and forced him to slow down.

He should have guessed she wasn’t prepared to let him deal with this in his own way. No doubt she had the answers all figured out. Not only that, he figured she could freely share them.

“Rudy, maybe Freddy has been taught to hate you.”

That brought him to a halt fast enough. “What? Who would do that?”

“I’m not suggesting it was done intentionally.”

He turned to face her square on. The lantern she carried hung at her side, throwing sharp angles across her face. He guessed it did the same for him. Likely making him look more forbidding than he felt. “Why would anyone want him to hate me?”

“Freddy told me a story tonight when I found him. He sort of blurted it out. He thinks you hate him. Maybe with good reason seeing as he overheard you on more than one occasion say you didn’t know what to do with him, couldn’t take care of a boy, and goodness knows what else.”

“You’ve already told me my failings in this regard. I don’t see how it has anything to do with you saying he’s been taught to hate me.”

“I’m getting to it.”

“I hope it won’t take all night.”

“Why? You got an important engagement I’m keeping you from?”

“Yes. My bed.”

“Speaking of that… Freddy wants to spend the night in the stopping house. I told him he could—”

“You what?”

She sighed. “If it was okay with you.”

He swallowed hard. “Huh.” He was no closer to getting the facts from her and resigned himself to standing all night on the edge of town in the increasingly cold air.

“Anyway, back to what I was saying.”

“Good idea.”

“I’ll ignore that.”

“Sorry.” He normally didn’t have a comment for anyone, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to stop spouting them off with Joanna.

“Freddy said his grandmother told him you and his ma were supposed to be married, but instead she married your brother.”

Fire scorched a path through his brain. Not because he hurt any longer over what Betty and Joe had done, but because Joanna sounded all sympathetic. No doubt she would offer condolences. “It’s true. So what?”

“So nothing, except it seems you were fortunate to discover how lukewarm her heart was before you actually tied the knot.”

He laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“I expected you to be all sorrowful because I got stood up. Instead you tell me it was a good thing.” It plumb tickled him, and he chuckled again.

“You don’t?”

“Consider myself fortunate?” He’d never given it any thought, but suddenly he realized she was right. “Maybe I am. I’ve been free to go where I want without hindrance for the past eleven years. Can’t complain about that.”

“I didn’t mean it in that way. But be that as it may, I believe those days are over for you. You are now guardian of a boy.”

“Who hates me.” He folded his arms. “And I believe you were about to explain why and what my mother has to do with it.” He wouldn’t listen to ill words spoken of his dead mother. Did she hear the warning note in his voice? And if she did, would she heed it?

“He’s taken what his grandmother said and turned it into something else. Apparently she said your brother—”

“Joe.”

“Yes, Joe—married his mother, and you wouldn’t speak to Joe after that. Freddy figures it’s because you hate Joe and, by extension, him.”

Rudy made a noise that did little to release his frustration. “I didn’t hate Joe, and I certainly don’t hate Freddy. Though”—he might as well reveal the whole ugly truth—“I did think Joe charmed Betty just to prove he could take her from me. And”—he held up a hand to stop whatever she meant to say—“I did think he should have stayed around to take care of his responsibilities instead of leaving my mother and Betty to manage on their own.”

She nodded. “My opinion exactly.” He couldn’t see much of Joanna’s face in the low light surrounding them, but he understood she didn’t simply agree with his opinion about Joe. Likely she thought he should notice the parallel about his responsibility to Freddy. Only difference was, Joe had asked for the responsibility. He hadn’t.

“Freddy didn’t ask to be left an orphan. Don’t you think he’s had enough of believing you don’t care for him?” Her soft words carried a pleading note.

He scrubbed his chin. “Don’t you think I’ve tried?”

“I expect you have. But now you have to succeed.” They headed down the darkened street. The only other lights came from the saloon, and even that business was strangely quiet.

He stayed at her side, his mount at his other hand. “You make it sound so simple. As if it’s up to me.”

“It is. You’re the adult. You win him over.” She kept walking.

“How?” He didn’t mean to sound so desperate, even though he was. “Tell me how.”

She slowed so she could study his face. “You really want help? You really want to make it work?”

He shrugged. Yes, he wanted to make it work. More than she could possibly know. Freddy was all he had left of Betty. Of Joe. Even of his mother. Of course he wanted the boy to like him. He wanted to give the boy love, but at every attempt he’d been kicked in the teeth. “I want to be Freddy’s uncle.”

She seemed to understand what he meant. “Then I’ll help you… while I’m still here.”

“Mr. Tisdale will soon replace you?”

“He didn’t even speak to me tonight.”

“Likely feeling things out.” She’d only be there a short time, but maybe she could help him before she left.

And why did it twist his gut to think of her leaving? After all, he’d never had trouble leaving any place in his life.

She stood still in the middle of the street, staring into the darkness. “Here’s what I suggest. I continue to give Freddy some chores, and you help out around the stopping house, too. I’ll do my best to see that you’re together. I’ll work on Freddy to help him see that you want to be friends. In exchange for your work, I’ll feed you and provide you a place to sleep.”

He laughed outright at that. “Maybe not having to eat my cooking will make him more willing to like me.”

Her low-throated chuckle tickled across his nerves. He was unreasonably pleased with himself. Then he sobered. “You think it will work?”

“I’d say it’s worth a try. Add your prayers for God to change his heart.”

His jaw tightened. “I don’t expect help from God. Haven’t in a long time.”

They passed a horse pen. The animal neighed. But Joanna was strangely silent.

Blessedly silent. He’d half expected an impassioned sermon after confessing his doubts about God.

“I expect it has something to do with Joe and Betty.”

He should have known she wouldn’t let it pass. “Maybe,” he allowed.

“I was once like that. So many times I prayed our Pa would stay with us. He never did, so I stopped asking. And then I stopped talking to God at all. Stopped reading the Bible. Just stopped thinking about God.”

He waited, wondering what had changed. But they passed the last of the businesses, and she offered no more. Sure picked the worst time to decide to keep her mouth shut. “So what happened?”

“To make me think about God again? I was trying to think what it was. I could say it was when Levi—Glory’s preacher husband, remember—came to town, but I think it began before that.” Her feet slowed to a crawl, and he settled back, content to watch her. “We see a lot of people passing through at the stopping house. I observed them and began to understand many of them are so tied up in their own interests, their own hurts, even their own dreams that they don’t realize how their actions and decisions affect others. Slowly I began to accept Pa was like that. Don’t expect even God can turn a stubborn man around unless he’s willing.”

He sorted through her words. Somehow they comforted him, but he couldn’t even say why. Maybe Joe and Betty hadn’t intentionally hurt him. It was a new thought. Something he’d have to muse on for a while.

They reached the place where he’d have to turn off to return to his camp, and he made up his mind without knowing he had made the decision. “I’ll go get our things so Freddy can sleep at the stopping house and be there to do chores in the morning.”

“Do you want company?”

Her words slammed into his heart like a giant fist. Did she actually want to spend time with him? He stumbled on a nonexistent lump in the ground and caught himself before Joanna noticed. How many times had he gone from camp to camp, ranch to ranch, even ridden away to nowhere in particular? Always alone. Without anyone offering to accompany him. That’s the way it was. The way he wanted it to be. He’d made it clear as springwater, and everyone respected his desire.

But Joanna’s offer ripped away scar tissue and revealed a long-unhealed wound of loneliness. Well, guess he wouldn’t have to worry about being alone in the future. He had Freddy now.

But it wasn’t the boy he wanted to welcome into that lonely place. It was Joanna. He clenched his teeth and pushed aside every bit of weakness.

He’d trusted a woman once. Given her his heart. When she’d turned her back on him, he’d vowed never to trust another female. Ever. Yes, Joanna might show undeserved kindness. Yes, he’d asked her to help him win Freddy’s trust. Yes, she made him feel things he hadn’t felt in a long time. Things like friendship, companionship, a desire for company. Maybe she even made him want to tell her more about his life. But bottom line, where it really mattered, she was a woman. And he was not about to trust her.

Rudy never said she was welcome to accompany him up the hill. But he hadn’t said he didn’t want her either, so Joanna traipsed along. The narrow trail forced them to walk almost shoulder to shoulder. It was not an uncomfortable feeling—Rudy at her side, strolling along at a leisurely pace. The horse following on their heels.

She’d offered to help him with Freddy. For the boy’s sake. For Rudy’s, too, she reluctantly admitted. There was something about his thwarted efforts to befriend the boy that tugged at her emotions. To be rejected hurt. She knew and understood, having felt the same pain with Pa. How often had she begged him to stay, always dreaming he would love her enough to be the parent instead of leaving her with the role? But time and time again he left. Always with instructions for her to take care of her younger sisters. Each time she’d stuff her pain into some distant corner of her heart and put on a cheerful front for the sake of Glory and Mandy. But it hurt. More than words could say.

She couldn’t keep the feelings bottled up inside forever, and tonight they burst forth. She told Rudy all of it while they walked through the ghostly shapes of the trees. While they crunched over the dry leaves on the path, she talked. Finally she wound down. “It wasn’t until the girls were both happily married to men who would not walk away from them to pursue some distant dream that my pain has begun to heal.”

They’d reached the campsite. She looked around, wondering how long they’d been standing under the trees. At some point he’d acquired the lantern. It hung from a nearby branch, throwing long shadows away from its light. She’d never before confessed her feelings to anyone. Her cheeks burned with mortification to the point she expected they glowed in the dark. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you the whole story.” She could barely stammer out the apology.

He gave her a slow nod, his eyes serious. “Didn’t mind. Just wish I could do something to take away the hurt your pa has left in you.” His gaze held hers.

She found something in his steady look she couldn’t explain. Something she’d never felt before. Never expected to feel.

He lifted a hand and touched her cheek, his fingers cool to her skin. “I can see why you’re so set on making sure I don’t give up on Freddy. You see yourself in the boy.”

She nodded, tears welling. She swallowed hard and widened her eyes to keep from letting any escape. Hopefully, the darkness hid her distress.

He flattened his hand against her cheek. His touch, solid and tender, calmed her. And set her heart racing.

She tilted her head slightly into his touch. His palm was rough and warm. “It isn’t fair to abandon children.” She swallowed again, trying to remove the crab apple–sized lump in her throat.

“If only things could work out in the ideal way you think they should.” He withdrew his hand, leaving a cold spot on her jawline. Leaving her feeling as if he’d backed away from something fragile hovering in the air.

Suddenly cold, she hugged her coat closer to her chest and stepped to one side, putting a distance of three feet between them. She wasn’t an idealistic child who believed in happy-ever-after. She knew people made mistakes and was willing to take that into account. But mistakes were no excuse for abandoning a child. She lifted her chin and glared at him. “I don’t expect things to work out all sunshine and roses, but I’m saying people like you can choose how some things will work out.”