Dancing on Dew (3 page)

“What do you mean?” Her fists clenched, and her pulse drummed like she’d been caught in a crime.

“After Joseph left seven years ago, you spent months moping around. Ma and I were worried about you.”

“I missed my friend.”

“Your ma believes you fancied yourself in love with the boy.” Pa caught her gaze, and she worried her eyes reflected the truth.

“That was ages ago, when I didn’t know the difference between love and infatuation.” There, she hadn’t told a lie. Neither had she told the entire truth, that in hindsight, she still knew with confidence she had loved him.

“I had a long talk with Jeremiah not too long ago, and discussion of his brother came up. Joseph is a hurting man, with deep scars that can’t be seen.” He drew in a long breath and exhaled slowly. “You’re a grown woman, Cicely, but I’m still your father and don’t want to see you hurt.”

Pa rarely used her given name, except for emphasis. His strong opinion regarding her attempt to renew an old friendship gave her pause. She’d had her mind set to see Joseph, but now what?

Joseph hammered a nail into a shelf to secure it against the wall. Two months after his return to Weatherton, he’d finally have his own house in which he could have some privacy. While sharing the cabin with his brother, wife and niece gave him the opportunity to become better acquainted with them, the walls closed in further every day.

By next week, he and Gloria would be able to move into their new cabin. Its layout was similar to that of the original home, but with more windows, to give Gloria all the light possible. Since Clara’s death, darkness scared her, to the extreme she’d cry most nights until he brought her into bed with him. Even during the day, she constantly asked for another lamp to be lit. The extreme fear concerned him, but he didn’t know what else to do about it except keep the darkness away when he could.

Beyond her fear of darkness, Gloria had adjusted well to the move. She adored her cousin and aunt and spent many happy hours with a smile on her face. For that reason alone, he knew the move to Weatherton was the right decision for them.

Every day remained a struggle for him. Clara’s absence kept a constant longing lodged in his throat, but the physical labor required of him on the ranch helped him release the pent up grief. Each day the pain faded, so little at a time, he hadn’t noticed it until last week when he realized a day later that their anniversary had passed. It had been a small victory, despite the guilt he’d experienced in the aftermath.

Perhaps most importantly, he’d learned to smile and laugh again. Not all the time, but the occasions came more often and last longer. Gloria would tell him a story, or Hope would babble her nonsensical words, and he’d laugh, then laugh some more when they started to giggle.

Jeremiah would remind him of an antic of their childhood, and before Joseph knew it, he was engrossed in the story, eagerly offering his own account of the incident. By the end, they’d both be doubled over in laughter, tears rolling down their face as they tried to catch their breath.

Ever so slowly, he was rejoining life.

Still holding the shelf in place with one hand, he picked up a nail with the other. Jeremiah and Tallie had taken the girls on a picnic, and although he’d been invited along, he wanted to stay behind and complete several tasks in the new house before they came home. Plus, he needed time to himself.

With people always in the house, he rarely had a moment alone. Even riding the range, he was always accompanied by Jeremiah or one of the men they’d hired. A man required a certain amount of breathing space, and he hadn’t received any since arriving in Weatherton.

He chuckled at his own thought. Chicago offered very little room to breathe, but he’d become so accustomed to the crowds and tight spaces, that he’d forgotten what wide open areas were like. Compared to his life in the city, and contradicting his previous thought, he had plenty of space and quiet in Wyoming Nonetheless, he appreciated the silence this morning with no one to interrupt his thoughts or work.

He pulled his arm back, then swung it forward. Before he made contact with the nail, someone knocked on the door. The unexpected noise intruded upon his concentration. He misaimed, and the hammer met his thumb. Swallowing a curse he tried not to use, he dropped the hammer and shook his hand.

Another knock. “Hello, anyone home?”

His finger throbbed and already began to swell. Gritting his teeth, he strode to the door. Who would have come all this way? The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place to whom it belonged. He opened the door with his uninjured hand.

On the other side, a blonde woman, similar in age to him, stood with a basket in hand. A nervous smile tightened her lips. “Hello.”

“Good morning.” He squinted, not believing his eyes, not ready to acknowledge her.

“I stopped at the main house, but no one was there.” She shifted her stance.

“If you’re looking for Tallie, she’ll be back in a few hours.”

“I didn’t come to see her, well, not just her.” She fumbled over her words. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

He peered at her, all while pulling memories from the recesses of his mind. He couldn’t stop staring. “Sissy Evans,” he murmured.

“So you didn’t forget me.” He was certain she meant the words with levity, but her tone didn’t translate them that way.

His gaze swept over her. She’d always been beautiful, but now she had the added grace of a woman. Her eyes held a wisdom and maturity he hadn’t seen seven years ago, but there was also something else in them he could decipher. “You’ve changed, grown up.”

Apparently, he’d said the wrong thing. She scowled for a moment before covering her displeasure. “Time has a way of doing that.”

“I didn’t mean offense.”

“None taken.” She reached into the basket and withdrew a pie. “This is for you.”

“Thank you.” He took it with hesitation, forgetting about this thumb. The instant pressure against it startled him and he dropped the pie.

A loud groan escaped him and Sissy jumped back. Could his peaceful morning have taken a more uncomfortable turn?
Forget I said that. I don’t want to know.

He scrambled to retrieve the pie, none of which was salvageable. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s just a pie.” Sissy crammed the tin and the remainder of crumbled pie into her basket and stared at his hand with wide eyes. “What happened to your thumb?”

“A minor accident before you arrived.” He didn’t mention her knock had caused the incident. His gut told him her presence would cause a lot more than a swollen thumb.

Silence fell between them. Of all people from his past, she’d been the one he was glad not to have seen yet. A two month timeframe was pushing the inevitable encounter. He knew from casual questioning that her family hadn’t left Weatherton and it was only a matter of time before they ran into each other. Never had he imagined she’d show up at the ranch.

Sissy chewed on her bottom lip. “I should go. I just wanted to stop by and welcome you back to Weatherton.”

“I’ve been here two months.” Why had he gone and said that, invited questions and responses he didn’t want to broach?

“I wasn’t sure I’d be welcomed.” Her chest rose heavily as if the admission had cost her the last breath in her lungs.

“That was a long time ago.” Confusion reeled all around him. He wanted to push her way and tell her yes, she should leave, but he felt he owed her something. A drink, a refreshment, anything but the brushoff he wanted to give. “You’ve come all this way, and I could use a break. We can go to the main house, sit on the porch and catch up.”

Her eyes darted around—searching for what, he didn’t know. “Maybe for a few minutes.”

They walked to the other cabin, maintaining a space of several feet between them. Neither said a word until they reached the steps of the porch.

“Tallie made a cake last night for dessert. There’s still some left if you’d like a slice.” Offering food was all he knew about being a host. Clara had taken charge of any entertaining they did.

“No, thank you.”

“Want to sit?” He gestured toward the rocking chairs.

“I guess.” She set her basket by the chair on the left then sat down.

The second rocker was too close to her, so Joseph opted to sit on the porch steps. “How are your parents?”

Her face relaxed at the safe topic. “Pa’s good, but missing Ma. She’s been in Nebraska for three months caring for her sister, but my aunt passed away a few days ago so Ma will be home soon.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He looked down at his thumbs. “Losing a loved one isn’t easy.”

After a long pause, Sissy responded. “I heard about your wife and son. I’m really sorry.”

“Thank you.” He didn’t want to delve into his life with Clara. Not with anyone, but especially not with Sissy.

She changed topics. “Tallie told me you have a daughter. Will she be coming to school?”

“She’s only four.”

“We’ll break soon for summer, but she’s welcome to come in the fall. If she comes, I’ll teach her.”

“I’ll have to see.” Nudging a pebble with the toe of his boot, he pushed it to the step’s edge and watched it tumble to the ground.

“You haven’t been in church since you came back.”

Instead of being irritated, a rare spirit of playfulness struck him and a corner of his mouth turned up. “Have you been watching for me?”

“No. I happened to notice that’s all.” A pink blush covered her cheeks.

“The truth is, I haven’t much felt like going.”

“Since Clara’s death?”

When Sissy’s eye’s met his, he averted his gaze, sure he’d see the normal judgement in them. “I don’t blame God, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“It’s not.” Her calm voiced covered him with waves of understanding. He’d forgotten how easy she was to talk to.

“I tried going to church a few times after Clara and my son died. For Gloria’s sake especially, but it was hard to see all those families gathered in one place. Each one was a reminder of what I’d lost.” He took a deep breath, unnerved that he’d shared something so personal.

“Everyone grieves differently. I imagine you do what you have to do just to get through it.” Her stare penetrated his soul, and he wished he could take back their history.

After Clara died, he’d erected walls around him for a reason, and he didn’t care for the fact Sissy could see right through them. Even after all this time, it was as though nothing between them had changed.

Which terrified him to his core. He surged to his feet, prepared to end this reunion with a cool dismissal. “I should get back to work. Thanks for stopping by.”

Sissy nodded with understanding. She grabbed her basket and stood slowly. Walked past him without a word. After she’d gone a solid twenty feet beyond him, she turned. “I only came to offer friendship and welcome you home—nothing more.”

“Some things never change, Sissy, and I can’t deal with that right now.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated at the emotions and memories charging him from all angles.

A glimpse of satisfaction flashed across her features before she frowned again. “What is there to deal with? You made a choice seven years ago, and I respected that. We’ve both moved on, found separate lives.” She drew a long breath of air. “And I go by Cicely now.”

He ignored her last comment—she’d always be
Sissy
to him—and sighed. “You know exactly what, but I made the decision then that was right for both of us at the time. We were too young for a commitment. I’d barely turned eighteen, and you were only fifteen.”

“I turned sixteen the month after you left.” Her prideful chin jutted out.

“With a whole life ahead of you.” He walked toward her.

“A life we could have shared, that you’d said we’d spend together.” Years of anger flashed in her eyes.

Not that he blamed her, but life rarely went as planned. “Pa’s death changed all that.”

“It didn’t have to, but you let it. You could have waited a year until I turned seventeen and Pa would have let me marry, but you never even asked him.” A tear glistened in her eye. “You broke my heart, and I didn’t have anyone to turn to because no one knew about us—that you’d made promises to me.”

“What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry?” He threw his hands in the air. “Then I’m sorry. I’m sorry that life throws us twists and rips our plans to shreds. I’m sorry I made promises to you that I couldn’t keep and I’m sorry I hurt you, but I don’t regret the life I chose.”

She backed away from him, her face pale and taut. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have come. Truly, I only wanted to welcome you, not relive old wounds.” Turning, she headed in the direction of her carriage.

Without thinking, his hand shot out to stop her, and he gently gripped her shoulder. “Thank you for coming.”

“It wasn’t the life I wanted, but I’ve had a good life since you left. Take care, Joseph.” Not turning around, she shrugged away from him and left.

Her dismissal had the air of a final goodbye. He watched her ride away until she became a speck of evaporated dust in the distance. Seeing Sissy was the last thing he’d been prepared for and the visit wrenched his gut.

Thirty minutes ago, he’d been grateful for the silence and time alone, After Sissy’s visit, he couldn’t wait for his family’s return. Being alone with his thoughts was the last thing he wished for—he was afraid of where they might lead.

He didn’t want to remember how much he’d loved Sissy and how badly it hurt to leave her, despite knowing it was the right thing to do. He couldn’t think about what their life might have been like had he stayed, or wonder if he could have been spared the heartache of losing Clara if he’d waited for Sissy.