Brides of Idaho (56 page)

His gaze locked on hers. He couldn’t have turned away for anything. Did she realize the sort of promise she’d just given? Or was she only trying to give him strength? He suspected it was the latter. He knew he should guard his heart and mind against believing it was more, but right now he lacked the will. He needed her at his side.

“Thank you,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms. Her head pressed into the hollow of his shoulder. Her arms wrapped around him and held him tight.

They stood holding each other until the ferry pulled to the other side of the river; then they swung up into saddles and headed down the trail.

There was no need or opportunity for conversation as they paused often to study the trail, to search the bushes, to call Freddy’s name and listen for an answer. But her presence was like a warm bit of sunshine.

They rode for an hour. Then he pulled to a halt, dismounted, and helped Joanna down. “Do we keep going? I mean, how far would he go?” He glanced at the sun heading for the western horizon and tried not to think how dark and cold it would soon be. Already he could smell the damp evening air rising from the ground.

Joanna pressed her lips tight. Her eyes glistened. Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes.

He gently thumbed away the moisture, wishing he could say something to comfort her, but words were empty in light of a missing boy.

“I was so certain we’d find him.” Her voice quivered, and she leaned into his arms.

They held each other. The long ache that wove through his insides did not have the power to destroy him. Not while Joanna held him tight.

She eased back but stayed within his arms. “I suppose we might as well go on a bit longer.” She looked so sad, so weary, that he cupped her chin and lifted her face so he could study her more fully.

“I’m sorry to bring all this trouble on you.”

She smiled despite her tears. “Trouble shared is trouble halved.”

He didn’t know if she meant his trouble or hers. Or if it mattered one way or the other. But her words renewed his hope. He still held her chin, still looked deep into her dark brown eyes. Before he could think better of it, he lowered his head and kissed her lightly on the lips. He immediately pulled back. “I probably shouldn’t have done that, but I’m just so grateful for your help.”

“You don’t hear me objecting, do you?”

They caught up the horses’ reins and walked farther down the path. He mulled over her words. She hadn’t objected. He’d seen her handle unwanted attention at the stopping house, and she left little doubt when it wasn’t welcome. He managed to moderate the smile on his face.

Something at the side of the trail caught his attention… raw marks on a tree. He stopped to examine it. Someone had slashed at the bark. Little jabs below his waist level.

Joanna studied the marks as well. “Do you think…?”

“Looks like Freddy’s work.” He examined the surroundings more closely. A bent twig, but nothing more. He stood and bellowed, “Freddy, are you here?”

Both he and Joanna strained for any sound. Nothing.

His insides soured. He had no proof this slashing was Freddy’s work. Nothing to make him think the boy had been here but hope and desperation. Absolutely nothing.

“Freddy,” he roared again.

Joanna touched his elbow, pressed her fingers to her lips. “Listen.”

J
oanna clung to Rudy’s arm, hardly daring to hope she heard a faint cry. She stared into Rudy’s face, finding sweet comfort in his steady gaze. Enjoying the masculine scent of him. He’d kissed her, perhaps as much to reassure her as anything. But something had changed in her heart, though she was at a loss to say what it was. Nor was this the time to consider it.

The sound came again—it didn’t seem like a coyote or dog.

“Could it be?” she asked, hardly daring to believe it could be a human voice. She tipped her head against the wind that had grown steadily cooler as the shadows lengthened.

“Freddy,” they called in unison.

Another cry. It was certainly someone calling. Joanna’s heart beat a frantic tattoo. She gripped the reins. “Over there,” she shouted, pointing into the trees at the side of the trail.

They dashed forward, leading the horses and pausing to call again then followed the muted cry up a rugged hill scattered with rocks. They slowed their pace to allow the horses to pick their way and to avoid stumbling on the rough ground. It wouldn’t do for one of them to end up injured.

They reached the crest. “Freddy.”

The answering shout was closer. They pushed onward.

Joanna saw him first, curled up into a ball next to a cold-looking boulder. The ground beneath him looked equally cold and uncomfortable—only a few tufts of grass on bare soil.

She grabbed Rudy’s hand, and they hurried to Freddy’s side. Rudy knelt and cupped his head. Joanna couldn’t see clearly for the moisture in her eyes, but it looked like Rudy’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as well.

“Are you hurt?” he asked the boy.

Freddy pointed at his ankle. Blood dried on a gash. “I can’t walk.”

Rudy sat in the dirt beside Freddy and pulled the boy into his arms. “I was so worried. I looked everywhere and couldn’t find you. I thought maybe you were gone.” He squeezed his eyes shut as he held the boy close.

“You don’t want to see me again,” Freddy mumbled. “Not after what I did. You hate me for sure.”

Joanna clamped her mouth shut against the moan of protest. She’d hoped Rudy’s suspicions were wrong, but Freddy hadn’t wasted any time admitting he had started the fire. However, the damage seemed inconsequential in comparison to her relief at finding the boy.

“You did wrong. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you. And I certainly don’t hate you.” He gulped. “I love you.”

Joanna’s throat thickened until she couldn’t swallow. She sat on Freddy’s other side.

Rudy lifted his arm and pulled her in close to the boy.

Freddy sobbed. “Miss Joanna, I’m sorry. I didn’t think a little fire would do so much damage.”

“Shh. I know you didn’t. But Freddy, if you wanted to tell me something it would be better for us all if you said the words.”

Freddy’s sobs quieted. “It’s too late.” He rubbed his eyes.

“It’s never too late.”

He stared at the ground, still wrapped in Rudy’s arms. “I want to stay in Bonners Ferry. I want us all to stay.”

Joanna realized she wanted it, too, but she couldn’t give a promise that included Rudy. Only he could give that. “Well, Freddy, I’ll be staying awhile, seeing as the Averys don’t want to buy the stopping house now.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his tears flowing again.

She wasn’t. Not if it gave her a chance to spend more time with Rudy. And Freddy. But she couldn’t say so. Not with Rudy looking flummoxed. A gentle smile began in the pit of her stomach and climbed to her heart then spread across her lips. He’d told Freddy he loved him. Seems he no longer thought he couldn’t love or receive love.

He hugged Freddy again. “Now let’s have a look at the ankle.”

The cut wasn’t deep enough to be serious, but his ankle was swollen.

“Good thing we brought horses,” Rudy said. He carried the boy to where they’d left the animals, lifted him to the saddle, and swung up behind him.

Joanna couldn’t stop smiling at the way Rudy held the boy. And the fact that Freddy let him. She’d guess Rudy wasn’t going to allow Freddy out of his sight for a good long while. She got into her own saddle, and they made their way carefully back to the trail and returned to the ferry.

The ferryman blinked several times when he saw Freddy. “How did you get across without me seeing you, you young scamp?”

Freddy pointed to a crate of goods. “Hid behind a box like that.”

“I’ll be checking for stowaways more carefully, won’t I?” He reached out to shake Rudy’s hand. “Glad to see the young fella is okay.”

Mandy stood at the shore, shading her eyes. She saw them coming and yelled, “It’s Rudy and Joanna. Freddy is with them!”

Half a dozen people trooped down to the ferry, shouting a welcome.

Freddy rode the horse across though both Rudy and Joanna had dismounted. When they reached the other side, Rudy lifted Freddy down. He reached for Joanna, keeping her at his side as they climbed the hill to the stopping house with a crowd escorting them. Inside, Freddy was enthroned on a chair, examined, and asked a hundred questions. As soon as everyone was satisfied he would live and stepped away, the cat jumped to his lap and curled up, as glad to see the boy as the rest of them.

“Don’t go making him into a hero,” Rudy warned. “His mischief has done a lot of damage.” He shifted so Freddy could see the burned skeleton of a wall.

The place had been cleaned up, so Joanna could almost think there hadn’t been a fire except for the stark evidence of the blackened frame where the wall once stood and the overwhelming stench of smoke and carbolic soap. But she couldn’t find it in her to be upset at the moment. “Freddy is safely home. That’s all that matters right now.” And Rudy stood close, holding her hand like they belonged together.

Cora brought warm water to wash Freddy’s streaked face and dirty hands then turned her attention to the swollen ankle. “Guess you better keep this up for a few days.”

Rudy snagged a chair and dragged it close so Freddy could prop his foot on it.

“Both of you sit,” Glory ordered.

“I don’t—” Joanna began.

“No arguing.” Both sisters faced her.

“You’ve been out scouring the area for Freddy while we took care of things here,” Mandy said.

“Now you’re going to let us take care of you for a change.” Glory nodded her head once, ending any objections.

Joanna nodded meekly and pulled up a chair to sit beside Freddy. Rudy pulled a second chair to the other side, and they smiled at each other over the boy’s head.

The others swung into action, setting the kitchen table and serving a nice meal. A sign had been posted to the outside of the building, informing one and all that the stopping house would not be serving supper.

“It’s almost like our Sunday meals,” Mandy said.

Joanna looked around the table. “This is nice.” Did she really want to leave here? Her gaze slipped toward Rudy, and she knew he’d been watching her. For a moment, she let herself hold his look, wondering if he read the wishes of her heart. She’d be content to live here if he decided to stay. Otherwise, the place was only a building.

Before the meal ended, Freddy’s head drooped over his plate. Rudy pushed away from the table. “I hope you all will understand if I take this boy to bed and get him settled.”

Joanna sprang to her feet. “You two take the bedroom. He’ll be more comfortable there.”

He nodded. “Thank you.” His gaze lingered a moment. “For everything.” Then he scooped Freddy into his arms and strode from the room.

Everyone was quiet until they heard the door close, then Glory edged forward. “Thank you for everything?”

Joanna fixed her with her best big-sister stare. “He means because I helped find Freddy.”

Glory purposely ignored Joanna and turned to Mandy. “Did you see the way he looked at her? And how he held her hand?”

“Sure did. I’d say there’s something special going on.”

Joanna sighed. “There’s nothing.” Though she hoped she was wrong. He hadn’t said anything but thanks, she reminded herself. Yes, he’d kissed her, but was she reading more into it than he meant? After all, they were both worried and finding comfort in their friendship.

Yet, she guessed he didn’t give out kisses lightly any more than he often spoke the words
I love you
to anyone.

“Girls,” Levi murmured. “Joanna’s tired. Maybe you can wait until morning before you begin harassing her.”

Both sisters turned their attention to Levi, informing him they were doing no such thing.

Joanna guessed Levi expected that’s exactly how they would respond, and she flashed him a smile of gratitude.

They wouldn’t allow her to help clean up. Weary clear through, she wondered if she would have been any help.

She expected them to leave once they were done, but Mandy announced they were all staying, seeing as the dining room was empty of guests. Joanna’s tears of exhaustion were close to the surface, and she could only nod agreement before she staggered to bed. Even the smoky smell of her pillow didn’t make it less welcoming.

Just before fatigue claimed her thoughts she allowed herself to remember the closeness she’d felt with Rudy throughout the day. Surely he’d felt it, too. Didn’t his kiss prove so?

Maybe tomorrow he would speak of his feelings.

But the next day he carried Freddy from the bedroom and settled him on a chair. “As soon as breakfast is over, Freddy and I are going to start repairing the wall.”

She wondered how much help Freddy would be.

As she assisted Cora to serve the meal, she stole glances at Rudy, wondering if he would let her know his feelings in some subtle way. But his smile lacked the warmth she sought.

She pulled her own emotions under control. She was reading too much into Rudy’s behavior. Did she mean yesterday or today? She couldn’t say and grabbed a rag to attack the smoke-smudged cupboard with gusto.