Homespun Hearts (11 page)

“
L
uke
, you up there?” a voice shouted, waking Dawn and making her cry.

Faith hurried to her child’s side and picked her up. Opening the door to the hall, she looked to see what was going on. Heavy steps sounded, and before she could get the door closed, Matt rounded the corner.

“Oops. Sorry about that, Faith. I forgot you were up here,” he said as he looked apologetically toward the crying baby.

“That’s all right. Is something wrong?”

“Just looking for Luke. Have you seen him this morning?”

“No, I haven’t yet,” she answered. Heat rushed to her cheeks thinking of last night.

Matt rapped hard on Luke’s bedroom door and then opened it. The big bed stood vacant, atop a brown and white hide rug. A coffee colored quilt, flecked with yellow, was flung haphazardly at the foot, crumpled and forgotten. Soft morning light penetrated the windowpane, making the stark white sheets glow. It looked inviting.

Luke’s brother turned to leave. “Didn’t think he’d still be asleep. Sorry again about waking Dawn.” He reached over and rubbed the crown of Dawn’s fuzzy golden head, something that everyone seemed called to do. The caress did little to ease the babe’s crying.

Faith rocked her as Matt walked back down the hallway. “Shh,” she said. “You’ll be fine once you have a little something warm in that tummy of yours. It’s time for your breakfast.”

She placed the baby on the bed and changed Dawn’s wet diaper. A sweet melancholy crept into her heart as she settled in to nurse. She wished her own mother were here. Faith only had one memory of her, and she kept it safely tucked away inside. Like a well-loved picture book, she took it out every so often when she was feeling sad or lonely: They were making gingerbread in the dingy, run-down kitchen on the farm. Her mother was happy and humming a song, the tune of which Faith had been too young to remember. She stood on a chair watching her mother stir with a big wooden spoon, the tangy smell of ginger all around. Her mother smiled and handed her the spoon covered in sticky batter.

“Wake up,” Faith said quietly, jiggling Dawn, who was trying to fall asleep. “You have to finish your breakfast.”

One memory. That was all she had of her mother. Soon afterward she’d died, leaving Faith alone to work with her father on their dilapidated farm, going to school when time allowed and trying to avoid his angry outbursts.

Time passed, of course, as it always does. Life got a little easier when Toby, the farm hand, came to stay. This had allowed Faith to slip into town from time to time, for church or the occasional social activity. That’s where she’d met Beatrice. The day Bea died, Faith had brought her crying son home, as promised, little believing the boy’s father would ever return. How wrong she’d been.

Samuel showed up on her doorstep two years later. He’d said that he’d gotten a head injury and just recently gotten his memory back. Of course, he’d come straight away, worried about Beatrice and Colton.
What hogwash!
He’d said that when he found his wife dead and buried, he started looking for his son and found him with Faith. After that he started coming out every week on Sunday. He’d been so sweet then, and funny, too. He could make her laugh at just about anything. Every once in a while, when her father wasn’t around, he’d tell Faith how pretty she was. It seemed like a dream come true when he asked her to marry him. Not only would he be her husband but Colton would also have his very own father back. It seemed perfect, a match made in heaven.

Heaven lasted about two months. Samuel returned alone from the field at suppertime with the news that her father was dead; he’d had an accident with the plow, and Samuel wasn’t able to save him. She’d turned to Samuel for comfort and found only coldness. Soon afterward, his behavior changed so drastically that even Toby ran off.

So deep was she in reflection, Faith didn’t feel her tears until one landed with a plop on Dawn’s forehead. The baby jumped, and her startled blue eyes gazed up. Faith kissed her baby’s cheek and wiped the wetness away.

It didn’t matter, Faith told herself. None of the past mattered. Only Colton and Dawn were important now. Only them. Samuel had pretended everything just to get her to marry him, to get her father’s lousy, run-down, rickety old farm. She’d tried at the time not to believe it, but it had to be so. He’d become even more of a monster when he learned the farm and land were willed to her with the clear stipulation it was never to be jointly held with a husband.

Now that Dawn was fed, Faith shoved her hurtful memories aside. She couldn’t wait one more moment for the coffee she’d smelled all the way up here in her room. The aroma lured her down the large staircase, into the now-quiet dining room. One place setting remained on the big table, in the same spot she’d eaten last night.

“Why, there you are,” Mrs. McCutcheon said, coming through the door in a split-skirt riding suit. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine, thank you,” Faith replied.

“Good. Esperanza has your breakfast warming in the kitchen. Sit down and I’ll tell her you’re here.”

Faith wasn’t comfortable with people waiting on her. She said, “I’ll get it. No need to bother her.”

“It’s no bother for her. Now, you sit down and pour yourself a nice cup of coffee.” Luke’s mother pulled out her chair. “It’s only been a little over a week since you gave birth, and you’ve been having to survive a cattle drive! I don’t know how you did it.” She waited expectantly until Faith sat down and then helped her scoot the heavy chair in. “Pampering is exactly what you need.” She smiled warmly, rubbing Faith’s shoulder. “It’s every woman’s right.”

Mrs. McCutcheon disappeared into the kitchen. Faith had never met a woman like her before. She was so sure of herself and her place in this family. She was confident and so take-charge. Faith could see now how Luke came naturally by such a manner.

When she’d first learned that her baby was a girl, she’d been sad. She held Dawn up and placed a kiss on the top of her head. Life for a woman was hard: day after day of exhausting work, followed by abuse at the hand of some man, be it father or husband. And it was lonely, too. At least, her life had been like that. But Mrs. McCutcheon was different. She was respected, if not revered. And it didn’t stop with her. Charity, too, was treated considerately. Not only did her parents love her, but her brothers did as well. That’s what Faith wanted for Dawn, a life full of love and respect. Somehow she needed to make sure that Dawn ended up in a family like this.

Faith reached for the china coffeepot and poured half a cup. Mrs. McCutcheon came back, her boot heels rapping on the hardwood floor. Esperanza followed carrying a platter of warm food, which she set in front of Faith.

“Thank you,” Faith said.

Claire McCutcheon scooped a steaming tortilla filled with eggs, ham and other delights onto Faith’s plate. “That aunt of yours won’t like it if we send you to her all skin and bones. Eat up. You need to gain your strength back.”

Shame crept into Faith’s throat.

Mrs. McCutcheon reached for Dawn. “Let me take her while you eat.”

Luke came through the door and went straight for the coffeepot. Filling a cup, he eyed Faith.

“What are your plans for the day, Luke?” his mother asked.

“I need to check progress on the covered bridge across the upper crest. After that, I don’t have much on my agenda.”

“Why don’t you take Faith with you? I’m sure she’d love to see the ranch, get a little fresh air. It would do the baby wonders to get out. Would you like that, Faith?”

Not really.
Her nerves were far too raw from her encounter with Luke last night. The thought of spending hours trapped with him was enough to make her want to run and hide. But Luke answered before she could.

“Ma, Dawn’s only a handful of days old. Faith can’t sit a horse yet.”

“Of course not, but she can ride in the buggy easy enough. The seats are plenty cushioned, more so than that wagon she’s been crossing the countryside in. I know she’d like to go with you. Isn’t that right, Faith?”

What could she say? Mrs. McCutcheon might think it odd if she said no. She didn’t want to appear ungrateful.

“Yes,” she replied, if quietly. “Would you mind keeping an eye on Colton for me while we’re gone?”

“Of course, dear, that’s not a problem at all.” Mrs. McCutcheon smiled at Luke and headed for the kitchen. “But don’t run off just yet. I’ll have Esperanza fix a nice supper to enjoy when you get there. The scenery is breathtaking.”

L
uke stepped closer to Faith
. The rosy color of her cheeks pleased him, but he pushed such feelings away. “You sure you want to do this? It could take most of the day. Wouldn’t you rather stay here and rest?”

“No, I meant it when I said I’d like to go.”

He was both pleased and disappointed. He must be plum loco to go off with her today, especially after last night. Sleep had eluded him for hours, and finally, when he did fall asleep, it was time to get up. Unbelievably he hadn’t felt tired, and he’d had to force himself to stay out with the men and not return to the house for any of the several far-fetched reasons he’d dreamed up. “If you’re sure, then. Be sure to grab a bonnet and a shawl in case it turns breezy. The weather up in the high country can change fast.”

She nodded.

“I’ll meet you in about twenty minutes out by the corrals.”

Outside, he took a deep breath. Slowly releasing it, he studied the expanse of clear blue sky. He hadn’t felt quite like this since he’d had that damnable crush on Martha Tyler his last year of school. How old had he been? Sixteen, maybe. He was a mess for months, always trying to figure out just where he could bump into her. He’d never gotten up the nerve to tell her how he felt. Just being around her was enough to make his stomach go squirrelly. It nearly broke his heart when the Tyler family moved to California, her pa in pursuit of gold.

Last night with Faith in his arms he’d felt the same, that familiar sweet thud of his heart. After ten long years it was back. Thinking again about Martha, he smiled. That infatuation, or crush, or whatever it was, paled in comparison to what he’d felt with Faith in his arms. She felt natural and right, like she’d been there all his life. Like he needed to keep her there for the rest of it.

He didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. If he had a lick of sense, he’d run in the other direction as fast as he could.

F
aith waited
out by the corrals as Luke had asked. She cradled Dawn in one arm; the other held her baby satchel and brown bonnet. An overstuffed hamper of food sat at her feet.

It was quiet, not a man in sight. The bunkhouse, with its long, covered porch and decorated with old branding irons, ropes, bridles and bits, looked a welcome sight for any tired cowboy. Cuddling Dawn closer, Faith smiled at how much Colton must be loving it here.

She approached the corral fence to watch the horses. They were finished eating and now stood in the sunshine, dozing. One noticed her and came over to see if she had anything tasty to offer. The horse was brown with a white blaze running the length of his face. Stretching out his neck, he snuffled at Dawn from behind the fence. When he didn’t find anything enticing, his head dropped and he ambled off.

“Nice place they got here.”

Faith spun at the familiar voice. Ward stood some ten feet behind her, leaning on a makeshift crutch.

“
W
ard
,” Faith whispered, looking to the house in hopes that Mrs. McCutcheon might come out. Her heart racing, she searched the area for Luke.

Her brother-in-law stepped closer, wincing with pain. “I hoped you’d come out sooner or later. We need to talk in private.”

“We already talked, Ward. I have nothing else to say to you.”

“Oh, I think you will when I’ve said my piece.” He smiled that charming smile that so resembled Samuel’s. “Quit this foolishness right now and come home with me. You know it’s only a matter of time before you do.”

“I know no such thing!” Faith threw back. “I’m not tied to you or your father. I have the right to go anywhere I please.”

“Not with my brother’s baby at your breast—and Colton, too.” He leaned over to peer at Dawn. Faith drew instinctively back, not wanting him to get too close.

His eyes darkened. “Don’t make me mad, Faith! If you do I’ll be forced to go to the sheriff and tell him what I know about my brother’s death. How we found him in the barn—dead! Below the hayloft with a broken neck. Your things were still up there, along with his hat and coat. Then, a day later, you took off without telling anyone you were leaving, not even his dear old pa. Why? I’ll tell you. Because you pushed Samuel and murdered him in cold blood. Pa hasn’t been the same since seeing him in the straw like that.”

Air whooshed from her lungs. “It was an accident.” She knew it looked suspicious, like she’d pushed Samuel. “He was mad. He stumbled and fell.”

“Oh, I think little ol’ you got tired of being a farmer’s wife, bein’ that’s all you done all your life. You’d planned your escape and did away with poor Samuel. That’s how our uncle Judge Winters will see it, too.”

She’d been over the scene time and again in her head. Everything pointed to her. Perspiration broke out on Faith’s skin. Dawn, picking up on her mother’s nervousness, started to fuss.

“I didn’t push him.” Faith looked to Ward for a sign of understanding.

“Save your tears for the judge,” he said. “Just remember, after you hang for murder, Pa and me will still have little Dawn and Colton back. And don’t worry, we’ll tell them all about their ma. How she was strung up for killing their pa.”

He chuckled, seeming to like how he had her backed into an inescapable corner. “I’m giving you one month, so it don’t look too suspicious to the McCutcheons. I don’t want any trouble with the likes of this family. You think up a real convincing story. Then tell them you’re going home with me. You understand?” he said. “One month. I don’t want to have to talk to you again. Is that clear?”

“I didn’t push him,” she repeated.

Ward snorted. “And just in case you’re thinking about talking to anyone, just remember this is a big ranch. All sorts of accidents can happen. Luke’s horse could fall and crush him. Or…” He paused, thinking. “Or maybe that pretty little sister will take a shine to me. If not, I’m sure a little friendly persuasion, if you catch my meaning, would change her mind.” His ugly, high-pitched laughter sounded like the hiss of a snake.

The jangle of wagon wheels startled Faith. She turned to see the buggy as it came around the side of the barn. Glancing back at Ward, she was relieved to see he’d disappeared.

Her emotions in tatters, she gazed down into the face of her child, gathering her thoughts. The idea of her growing up with Ward as her stepfather was unthinkable. Totally unacceptable. She’d do
anything
to keep Dawn and Colton from that. Which meant only two possibilities existed: she could go willingly with Ward at the end of the month…or she could try to outsmart him.

“All set,” Luke said as he stopped the buggy next to Faith and hopped down. He hefted the basket of food into the back. “Who does Esperanza think she’s feeding, the Army?”

As if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to do, he gently took the babe from her arms, and held her elbow so she could climb into the buggy and get comfortable. Nonetheless, her mind was fixed on one thing: the noose at the end of a rope.

She thought back to the day she’d been in town when a man had been hung for robbing the bank. She hadn’t watched, like many of the townsfolk, but as she left the mercantile she saw him, slowly swinging back and forth, the rope creaking loudly. She’d tried to look away, but some morbid curiosity kept her rooted in place, her gaze glued to his face. Splotches of purple and gray mottled his skin, and a stench from his messed pants floated over to where she stood. Would she be the one hanging there next?

“Faith, are you all right?” Luke asked. “Are you sure you want to go?”

Pulling herself together, she glanced up. Her heart swelled at the sight of Luke. His brows were arched worriedly over those expressive eyes.

“If you’re not feeling up to it…”

“No, really, I’m fine. I want to go. I was just thinking about everything I have to get done.”

“Everything to get done? Like what?” he asked, humor coloring his voice. He clucked softly to the horse as they turned around, and then he slapped the reins across the animal’s back, sending the buggy bouncing down the road. “The only thing you should be thinking about is getting your strength back and gaining a little weight. If the wind starts to blow, I’ll have to tie you to your seat with my rope. It wouldn’t do to have Colton’s ma blow away, never to be seen again. I guess Esperanza was thinking the same thing when she packed that hamper.”

“I’m as strong as I ever was, Luke,” she replied.

But Faith couldn’t help but be infected by Luke’s good mood. She’d never seen him so happy-go-lucky. She intended to enjoy today. She’d take it as a gift. Tomorrow she’d worry about Ward and figure out an escape from this mess. She wasn’t going to just lie down like a dead dog. This was her new life, her fresh start, and she wasn’t going to give up easily.

L
uke returned Faith’s smile
, then watched the landscape as they moved down the road. This was the land he’d grown up on, the land that he loved. He wondered what Faith thought of it, sitting so quiet holding Dawn as if she were afraid they’d both bounce out with the next bump.

He was trying not to stare, but damn, she was making it hard. Her eyes glowed with pleasure, and the breeze sent strands of hair flying around her face. Every once in a while a little sound of excitement would bubble forth.

He liked making her happy. Liked the way it made him feel inside. Deciding she mustn’t have had too many rides in a buggy, he was glad she was enjoying this one.

“Look, Luke,” she exclaimed. She pointed over to a green meadow where a large stream flowed over rocks. Smokey and Chance were clearing broken branches and small logs away from a clogged bottleneck, dragging them over to a pile. They’d removed their shirts and were dressed in only their undershirts, taking advantage of the sunshine and warm breeze. Brightly colored bandannas, tied around their necks, stood out against the wide blue sky. Their horses grazed nearby.

“It’s Smokey and Chance,” Luke said.

“What’re they doing?”

“Clearing out the waterhole. Looks like a beaver is trying to set up house.”

Hearing the clippity-clop of their approaching horse, the men stopped work and turned. They waved as the buggy neared. Chance cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted loud and clear, “Hello, Miss Faith!”

Smokey smacked him on the arm and, laughing good-naturedly, pointed at the waterhole as if chastising him.

Luke’s smile faded. “Looks like Chance is still sweet on you.”

“Chance? Sweet on me? That’s silly.”

She said the words as if she meant them, but Luke watched the small smile that curved her lips. She had to know Chance would swim the Mississippi for her, just like the rest of the men in this outfit.

“So, how come you were married a year and yet you have an eight-year-old son? Takes some fancy math to make that add up.” There, that got her attention. She’d lingered long enough on Chance and Smokey.

She looked like she was about to answer when the buggy bounced in a hole, waking Dawn. The baby began crying, and nothing Faith did soothed her. Looking over to Luke, she shrugged. “Would you mind terribly if we stopped for a few minutes? So I could have a little privacy to…”

“Feed her,” Luke finished. He tipped his hat up with his thumb and leaned close, inspecting the baby. “That little thing sure does eat a lot.” He grinned.