Jane Bonander (3 page)

She staggered to the bed and sank onto it, feeling violated and angry, and not just a little bit scared. When she’d composed herself, she went to the kitchen window, where the stranger still stood with Max.

“I guess I should thank you, again. Would you . . . would you get rid of him, please?”

“That was my intention, ma’am. I’ll take him to the saloon. Someone ought to know where he lives.”

Susannah heard him order Max to stay, then he disappeared around the side of the cabin. She left the window, feeling a clot of tears press into her throat at how helpless she really was.
Damn
. How could she be alert and watch for Sonny Walker if she couldn’t even tell when a drunk was peeping into her windows?

Going back into her bedroom, she went to the window to make sure Eli and the stranger were gone. Relieved to find that they were, she slipped on her flannel dressing gown. She glanced outside, wondering how long she’d slept before she’d been awakened by Max’s barking. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t return to bed now, she was too keyed up to sleep.

After stoking up the fire, her glance went to Corey’s room. A fierceness . . . a powerful sense of possession swept through her. She would endure anything for her son. How she loved him! She had thought she was safe here, that nothing bad would happen. She’d always been on the lookout for Sonny, but she also knew he was far too clever to follow her himself. She had no doubt that he’d hired someone to do it for him.

After all the times she’d had to fight off his indecent advances when Harlan wasn’t around, she knew he wouldn’t just give up. Even if Louisa had been successful in getting rid of Harlan’s body, Sonny would know that something had happened, for they saw each other daily. If he thought for a second that Susannah had been involved in getting rid of Harlan, he’d loudly proclaim her the culprit, for he knew it was the quickest way to have her returned to him. Send the law after her. Announce to the world that she was a murderess. Then, when she was returned and ready to be hanged for her crime, he’d step forward, “gallantly” coming to her defense, perhaps bargaining with the law, whom he had in his pocket anyway, to release her into his custody. And it would be done. Sonny had always been the clever one. And her life of misery would start all over again.

She went to the stove to make herself a cup of tea, listening to the sounds of silence. She loved the solitude. She avoided the townsfolk in Angel’s Valley as much as possible, preferring to stay away from their prying eyes.

Maybe it was guilt that made her feel that way, after all, she hadn’t been completely honest with them when she’d moved in, telling them her husband had never returned from the war. If she had her way, she’d stay away from town entirely, but she needed supplies on occasion, and she had to make frequent trips into the dress shop.

When the sun crept over the eastern ridge, Susannah was still awake, fighting the ghosts in her past. Corey woke up feisty, having slept through the clamor that had kept Susannah awake. After he’d eaten his breakfast, she changed him, got dressed herself, then stepped out onto the rickety porch. She pulled in a breath of warm, dry, pine-scented air. Even though they hadn’t had rain for months, the river just down the hill still bubbled over the rocks. Above her, a red-shouldered hawk wheeled lazily, screaming into the windless sky.

Max loped up to her, his tongue hanging out over the edges of his teeth. Susannah smiled. Max always looked like he was smiling back at her. She bent down and scratched his ears, gently scolding him for his behavior the night before. She’d thought that having a watchdog around was the perfect solution to her problems. After last night, she realized there was no such thing.

Corey squeezed past her and scooted down the steps.

“Stay right where I can see you, Corey. If you mind Mama, we’ll play a game later.” Susannah watched his attempt to throw the ball for Max to retrieve, and laughed as he dissolved into giggles when Max ignored the ball and licked his face.

Her gaze went to the fallen tree that had been on the east side of the cabin since she’d arrived, and probably long before. Just looking at it made her tired. It would be perfect for firewood come winter, if she could get it chopped up. But she’d been putting it off.

With a rueful smile, she realized there were many jobs she’d put off, simply because she didn’t know how to do them. She’d try, though. She’d grown accustomed to having every one of her efforts belittled, but now, she could try and fail, and no one would slap her or laugh at her. This new life, as hard as it was, was infinitely better than the life she’d left behind, or the one that had threatened to keep her there.

She carefully took the jiggly porch steps and knew that was another project she’d have to tackle. Corey never remembered her warning from one day to the next, and she was afraid one of these times he’d trip and fall, hurting himself.

You’re a bad mother, just like Fiona was.

Susannah stiffened, and curled her hands into fists. No! She wa
s not
like her mother. It had been days since she’d heard that nasty voice inside her head; she’d hoped it was gone for good. Squaring her shoulders, she made up her mind to ignore the images and voices from her past and concentrate on building a good life for her and Corey.

She went around to the side of the porch, picked up the ax that leaned against the cabin and dragged it to the tree. For a moment, she stood still, listening to the sounds around her as her gaze traveled over the low ridge of hills that shielded her little valley from another. The hills were no longer a deep, rich green; they had abruptly turned a burnished gold that was slowly fading to brown. Up beyond the hills, below the snow line, the pine studded mountains were purple and black.

With a wistful sigh, Susannah turned to her task. She lifted the ax, grunting at the weight of it, and brought it down on the dead tree. The backlash from the contact created a dull ache in her head, and, unfortunately, she’d barely chipped the bark of the tree. Gritting her teeth, she whacked the tree again and again, finding a small measure of satisfaction in her slow progress.

Finally exhausted, she stopped and stretched. As she massaged a cramp along her spine, Max took off across the yard, barking furiously.

Alarmed, Susannah turned. Her alarm changed to fear when she saw a man on horseback coming toward her.

“Corey.” She felt an urgency she could not conceal. “
Corey, go inside
.”

Apparently Corey had noticed the rider, too. With eyes as big as saucers, he toddled to the porch, crawled up the steps and went into the cabin.

As the rider drew closer, Susannah recognized him as the man who had saved her from Eli Clegg—twice. Her cabin was off the beaten path. No one just “happened” to come by. She frowned, wondering what he wanted this time.

A reluctant memory shook her, reminding her that perhaps the world wasn’t a big enough place in which to hide.

The man openly watched her. “Everything all right here this morning?”

“Everything’s fine, thank you. It wasn’t necessary for you to stop by again.” Hoping to ignore him, she took another pathetic whack at the tree.

Max continued to bark.

“Excuse me, ma’am. The dog is spooking my horse.”

She eyed him cynically. “I thought you had a way with dogs.”

“I do, but my horse doesn’t,” he answered with a wry smile.

“Then perhaps you should leave,” Susannah said dryly, and was surprised at her audacity.

He laughed, a rusty, unpracticed sound. “Now, that’s what I like. A woman who stumbles all over herself, professing her gratitude.”

Again she attempted to ignore him, hoping he’d go away, but Max continued to snap and snarl at the stranger’s horse. Since it didn’t appear that he was going to leave her alone, and to prevent Max from getting kicked, she finally ordered the dog to go to the cabin. He continued to growl, but obeyed, loped to the porch and curled up in front of the door.

She gave the stranger a suspicious glance. “Was that all you wanted?” She hadn’t meant to sound churlish; fear often did that to her.

He nodded toward the dog. “In spite of last night, he’s really a good watchdog.”

Susannah glanced at Max. “Until last night, I would have agreed with you.”

“Don’t be too hard on him. He feels bad enough already.”

Susannah couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped. “Now, how can you tell that?”

“Well, just look at him. He feels all guilty and ashamed.” The stranger expelled a sympathetic sigh. “He could have invented the expression, ‘hangdog.’”

She looked back at Max, whose head was buried between his front paws. She thawed measurably, but tossed the dog a scolding look anyway. “Good. Let him suffer a while.”

They were both quiet for a moment, then he said, “I’d be happy to chop up that tree for the price of a hot meal.”

The offer caught her off guard. She leaned on the ax and studied the man. Though he was massively built, he sat astride a horse with ease. His voice was deep and pleasant. Not unkind. It didn’t matter. Susannah had learned long ago that when a man wanted something, he could easily charm the venom from a rattler. Then you got what he
really
wanted. She brought her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun and studied the stranger.

“Now, why on earth would you want to do that?”

“It’ll take you until Christmas to get that tree chopped into firewood.”

“Well, fortunately, I don’t need the wood until then,” she answered, going back to her task. She wanted him to go away. Be gone. Get lost. It sounded ungrateful, but she didn’t care.

Forcing her muscles to obey, she gritted her teeth and hacked away at the dead tree, wishing desperately that she could chop through the damned thing at least once before she toppled over, exhausted.

When she finally stopped and turned around, the stranger was leaving.

“Good,” she said to herself, relieved. “Good.”

“Mama?” Corey stepped outside, onto the porch.

“It’s all right, darling. You can come back outside.” She watched the man disappear into the trees, praying he was gone for good.

“Mama, look! Max catched the ball!”

Crossing to the porch, she sat down on the steps and tried to still her pounding heart. “That’s good, sweetheart. Here,” she urged, holding out her hands and forcing a smile, “throw it to Mama.”

He giggled when she fumbled and had to go to the corner of the porch to retrieve the ball. When she returned with it and playfully tossed it at him, she saw how the sun caught the highlights in his golden hair, and she felt a catch in her throat. Oh, he was the most precious thing in the world to her. Everything she’d gone through since the day he was born had been worth it. Everything . . . She took no pride in killing Harlan, and running away had made her appear weak and unwilling to face the consequences. But she knew if she had it to do over again, she’d change nothing.

The next morning, she literally couldn’t move. It had only been twenty-four hours since she’d foolishly attacked the tree, and now she was paying the price.

The muscles from her knees to her ears screamed with pain, but she groaned into her pillow and rolled out of her double bed.

She’d often thought about getting rid of the bed and taking the extra single one that was stored in the shed. She slept only on one side of it, anyway.

That isn’t the reason, though, is it?

No, she thought. That wasn’t the reason. She would never share a bed with anyone again. Not ever! Bad memories forced their way forward, and Susannah felt nausea well up in her stomach. She took a deep breath and scolded herself for remembering, even briefly, the revulsion she’d endured. Every day she tried to shove the memories farther back into the attic of her mind, but every day, something would trigger them, and they’d come rushing forward.

After dressing, an act that hadn’t been painful since she’d been kicked around by Harlan, she dragged herself into the kitchen where Corey was already sitting on his stool at the table.

“Bekfist, Mama.” He banged his spoon on the table.

Susannah winced and shuffled to the stove, feeling as ancient as the mountains around them. “Of course, sweetheart. Breakfast, it is.”

During Corey’s morning nap, she went out to tackle the tree once more. Unfortunately, she couldn’t even lift the ax.

She glanced toward the brush, where the stranger had come from the day before. She prayed he wouldn’t come by again. It angered her that someone had violated her privacy. Whether she could use the help or not wasn’t the point. She didn’t want anyone around.

But, she thought on a long sigh as she marched around the log, she couldn’t cut the tree up, either. She wondered how in the devil she was going to get the job done. Making a face, she kicked the tree and felt yet another pain shoot from her toes into her shin. Cursing her stupidity, she sat on the log and rubbed her throbbing foot.

Max bounded off the porch, his sudden departure startling her.

Still holding her foot, she turned, and her heart leaped against her ribs. It was
him
again.

He dismounted, bent down and scratched Max’s ears. “Hello, fella. Is she still wrestling with that tree? I get the feeling she’s a bit stubborn, don’t you?”

Max was slobbering all over the stranger’s pant leg. Susannah glared at her dog, hoping to make him feel guilty. He didn’t appear to notice she was there.

“I’ll get it done before Christmas,” she said tartly.

“Ah, but which Christmas are we talking about?”

She detected a slight smile in his voice again, but she surely didn’t see one on his face, or in his storm tossed green eyes. And now that he was practically standing next to her, she remembered his size. Although he was a big man, it was his face, rather than his size, that brought her a dash of fear. His nose appeared to have been broken more than once, and a scar cut a jagged path across his forehead. He wasn’t handsome, and although she still felt a niggle of fear, she also felt a measure of comfort in his rough, no-nonsense looks. But it didn’t matter. He was a man, and she was wary.