Brides of Idaho (57 page)

Rudy would not allow himself to think past the work of fixing the damaged wall. He’d seen how powerful his feelings could be if he let them loose. They made him want to hug everyone, shout with joy to the heavens, kiss Joanna, and say “I love you” over and over again.

They frightened him.

Made him feel naked and vulnerable.

Loving and the longing for it had never led to anything but searing pain.

Yes, he’d admitted he loved Freddy. Practically his own flesh and blood. He probably wouldn’t say it again unless the boy disappeared another time. Which he hoped wouldn’t happen.

Tangled along with his feelings was his confusion about God.

Was it possible God loved him? And even if he thought so, could he rest in that love?

Too many questions and doubts.

The best thing he could do was keep his mind on the task of repairs.

Unfortunately, they required he spend much time in the kitchen, which meant he had the pleasure and confusion of seeing Joanna almost every minute of every waking hour. How was he to maintain a calm distance, keep his feelings bolted down, when every time he glanced her way his heart did a strange little dance against his ribs?

The best he could hope for was to do the work as fast as possible. But he wanted Freddy to have a part in it, which slowed him down considerably.

The first day, he asked Freddy to hold things for him as he sat with his swollen leg propped up on a chair. The second day, he got him to sit at a sawhorse and help measure pieces of wood. The third day, Freddy insisted on hobbling about, so Rudy taught him how to hammer in a nail. After a few lessons, he managed to get a nail in without bending it to a useless twist. The boy’s company provided a buffer against his feelings toward Joanna. He welcomed it, though the work would have been ten times faster on his own.

Freddy paused from tackling another nail. “Guess Miss Joanna is going to be staying now.”

“Guess so.” He pounded in a nail. “Nobody wants to buy a building like this.”

“But Miss Cora is still leaving to marry that Austin man?”

“Not for a little while, but yes, she’ll eventually leave.” It was nice to have Freddy want to chat peaceably with him.

“Well.” Freddy let the hammer hang from his hand and turned to consider Rudy seriously. “Seems to me she’s gonna need someone to help her then.”

“Suppose that might be so.” He stepped back to eyeball what they’d accomplished. On his own, it might take a week to do this job properly. With Freddy’s help, it might take two.

He frowned, his emotions warring within him at the prospect. More time to see Joanna and fill his senses with her presence. More time to fight the feelings he couldn’t allow himself to have.

“Well, Uncle Rudy, here’s what I think.”

“Yeah.”

“I think we should stay and help her.”

Freddy stood a good three feet away, but Rudy felt like the boy had taken the hammer and slammed it into his belly. Stay? It was a thought he’d been trying to outrun for days. Freddy had pulled it out in the open so Rudy couldn’t avoid it.

He couldn’t stay. Because…

He couldn’t think of the reasons, but he knew he had them.

Something to do with not believing in love. Except he realized he did. Freddy was watching him.

Rudy schooled his thoughts into submission.

“Don’t you think that’s a good idea?” the boy persisted.

An excellent idea. Except it scared him half to death. “We don’t know if she’s got other plans.” He ignored the way Freddy’s mouth drew into a stubborn line.

Rudy turned his attention to the wall and pounded in a nail that didn’t need to be pounded in.

“You’re planning to leave. Just like you always do. Footloose and fancy-free.” Freddy’s words dripped with disapproval.

“I’m not leaving you.” It was the most he could promise. He turned to stare out the window, hoping for some peace. Joanna walked toward the pump, carrying a bucket of water in each hand. She and Cora, with Joanna’s sisters helping, had washed the walls and ceiling again. They’d scrubbed a whole lot of bedding and hung it in the cool breeze to dry. He smelled the freshness of it just looking at her. Though he couldn’t miss the lingering smoke smell inside, which grew fainter every day.

His turmoil increased by leaps and bounds. “Hang on,” he called to her. Without waiting for a response, he trotted out and reached for the pails.

His hands brushed hers as he took them. Against his orders, his gaze jerked toward her, and he couldn’t look away.

She smiled. Her eyes were soft and full of… welcome? “Thanks.”

He realized what he truly wanted. To stay. But more. To share life with Joanna.

His heart threatened to explode from his chest.

His fears cried out a protest.

He jerked back, spilling water on his boots, and hurried into the house. Rather than return to work, he made some half-intelligible excuse about taking care of the horses and hurried away, knowing he was running as he’d never run before.

Only trouble was, he couldn’t ride away until he’d finished what he set out to do.

Joanna excused herself, ducked into the bedroom, and sank to the edge of the bed. No tears. No crying. Nothing but a long ache down a familiar path. Why had she let herself care for a man so much like her pa? It served her right for feeling torn up inside.

Rudy had called himself footloose and fancy-free. He’d admitted he didn’t know how to love or be loved. He couldn’t have been much plainer.

Oh, why couldn’t the men she loved love her back?

She sat up, a hard knot in her throat. She’d waste no more time wishing for things she couldn’t have. Pulling her writing things close, she began a letter to Sarah. She’d put it off long enough, waiting for different news. Yes, she’d hoped in a secret corner of her heart—a secret corner she pretended didn’t exist—that she’d be writing to say she now had a reason to stay in Bonners Ferry… a reason that included love.

But she was staying anyway because she had no choice. The stopping house hadn’t sold. She couldn’t walk away from it.

She finished the letter and took it to be posted, lingering at the mercantile long after she’d completed her task. She didn’t know if she could face Rudy without her feelings spilling out on her face. A new shipment of yarn had arrived, and it gave her an idea. She’d make both Rudy and Freddy mittens for the winter so when they left, they would take something of her with them.

A tiny bit of her love.

M
iss Joanna, would you read the Bible to me?” Freddy asked as they sat for their bedtime cup of tea.

Rudy slanted a look at the boy. He read a few verses to him every night. Why was he asking Joanna to do the same?

Freddy’s gaze rested on Joanna, as adoring as the cat lapping up Freddy’s affection.

Rudy relaxed. Seems the boy only wanted some of Joanna’s attention. And he could hardly blame him for that.

“Why, certainly.” Joanna went to her bedroom to get her Bible. “Anything in particular?”

“Uncle Rudy says God loves me. I like hearing that from the Bible.”

Rudy chuckled. “You saying you don’t believe me?”

Freddy’s eyes rounded with innocence. “Just want to make sure.”

Joanna’s smile touched them both with approval. And Rudy wondered if his chest swelled as noticeably as Freddy’s. “You can believe your uncle, because he’s telling you what God says. God never lies. Never changes His mind.” She turned the pages slowly. “I think you’ll like these verses from John, chapter three. Here it is. Verse sixteen. ‘For God so loved the world…’” She read a few moments then looked up, such peace in her expression that Rudy couldn’t look away.

“Did those verses help?” she asked Freddy.

He nodded. “I liked them. Thank you.” He yawned and stretched. “Guess I’ll go to bed.”

Rudy made to push to his feet.

Freddy waved him back. “You stay and enjoy another cup of tea. I’ll get myself to bed.” And he sauntered away, leaving Rudy staring at him in surprise.

Was Freddy purposely being a matchmaker? He silently thanked him for allowing them this time to visit. Cora had gone out with Austin, so he was alone with Joanna.

“It’s nice to know you’re helping Freddy learn of God’s love.” Joanna’s gentle words warmed his heart. He realized he’d been trying so hard not to feel anything that he’d grown cold inside.

“I’ve been reading the Bible to him most nights.”

“Like I used to do with Glory and Mandy.”

“You were fortunate to have each other.”

“We realize it. And now you and Freddy have each other.”

Did she mean it to be a warning that he couldn’t expect more?

“When was the last time you heard from your pa?”

“About a year ago. He’d been in Wyoming, working on a ranch. We caught up with him there, and three days later he heard about the gold rush in the Kootenais. The three of us argued about whether or not to follow him, but there was nothing to keep us in Wyoming. When we got here, we found the stopping house.” She gave a contented chuckle. “I guess God led us here.”

“Led you?” That was a new concept. Thinking God loved him was almost more than he could get his head around. “You really think God cares what you decide to do or where you decide to live?”

“I do.” She told him of verses that made her think that way.

He shook his head. “This is hard to believe. If God leads people, then why does He allow people to do bad things?”

“Like how your mother treated you?”

The pain surfaced, stinging his eyes. “And how your pa treats you.”

“It’s like I said before. Neither of us can measure God’s love and care by how people act.”

“It’s easy to say that. But feelings don’t simply disappear in a flash.”

“I don’t mean to suggest otherwise.” She studied her hands, folded in her lap. “For years I’ve struggled with feeling I don’t deserve love.”

Why did she swallow so hard and shift her gaze away? It was all he could do to keep from reaching for her and assuring her she deserved love like no other. But could he, of all people, offer it to her?

“I tried to be mother and father to my sisters, and yet all Pa ever said to me was take care of them. And when they got into mischief as they often did, if he heard about it, he held me responsible.”

“That wasn’t fair.”

She sighed. “No, it wasn’t. But that’s just the point. People aren’t always what we want them to be. Often they fail to give us love when that’s what we want most of all.” Her gaze drilled him.

“Joanna.” He wanted to say how much he loved her. But she was worth a hundred times better man than he would ever be, and he choked back the words. “You make me want to believe without any lingering doubts.”

“I pray you will.”

At the way she sighed, he wondered if he’d disappointed her by admitting he still had doubts. But he couldn’t pretend he didn’t.

Two mornings later, Freddy hustled into his clothes. “Hurry up, Uncle Rudy. I got something to do, and you need to help me.”

“I do?” Hungry for the kind of assurance Joanna had, Rudy spent time reading his Bible. “What are we going to do that’s so important?”

“Come on. Hurry.” He practically dragged Rudy from the bedroom and across the dining room.

Joanna came to the kitchen doorway. “Are you going somewhere?”

Rudy lifted his free hand. “Freddy is, and I’m apparently going along.”

Joanna shifted her gaze to the boy. “Where are you going?”

“It’s a secret.” He pushed Rudy out the door, closed it behind him, then continued his hurried trip across the yard to the toolshed. “We have to finish the cart.”

“I plumb forgot. You’re right. We’ll work on it together. But why is it so urgent?”

“It’s not why I was in such a hurry.” He climbed into the half-finished cart and pulled back a board. “I got this for Joanna.” It was a beautiful, soft piece of white rabbit fur.

“Where did you get this?”

Freddy stroked the fur and avoided Rudy’s gaze.

Rudy knew it was worth more money than the boy could possibly get his hands on honestly. “Freddy, tell me where you got this.”

“A man came over on the ferry yesterday. He had a bunch of furs. Said he planned to sell them. So I bought one.” He rushed on before Rudy could demand to know how. “I thought Joanna would like one. Feel it. It’s so nice and soft. I bet she would like to make a pillow out of it or one of those muff things ladies use to keep their hands warm.”