Joline's Redemption (8 page)

Baron swatted at a fly. “How well did you know my brother when he lived here?”

“Not well. I bought a few things from him and that pretty wife of his.” He scowled. “What happened to them? They both up and left town so fast, it was the biggest news around until several drunks shot up the schoolhouse one night.”

Baron pursed his lips. How could he tell Bob what he didn't know? And yet admitting he didn't know what happened to his own brother might seem odd. Still, he believed honesty was always the best route to take. He blew out a loud sigh. “I wish I could tell you, Bob, but the truth is, I don't know.”

The marshal lifted his hat at two women who smiled at him and then at Baron. The ladies turned into the store. Baron was grateful for the timely reprieve, because he sure didn't want to talk about Mark's Guthrie bride.

Bob nodded and pushed away from the wall then paused and turned back. “You know … that woman you described sounds just like the gal your brother married.” He huffed a laugh. “Kinda ironic, ain't it?”

Not waiting for an answer, the marshal moseyed down the street. Baron hurried into the store, pondering Bob's comment. He stepped behind the counter, cleaned off the scissors and twine from his last sale, and set them on a shelf below. The two ladies debated patterns of dishes in one corner, not needing his help.

Those haunted blue eyes stared at him in his mind. If the woman Mark falsely married resembled the one he'd seen today, no wonder his brother had been enamored with her and had gone to such extremes to win her heart. He certainly didn't condone what Mark had done in any way, but he could understand how his brother had been tempted. He had been tempted by a woman, too, on occasion, but his convictions and his faith in God helped him keep from making a mistake he'd sorely regret.

He thought of the pretty blond again. It wasn't likely this Jo that Gabriel Coulter had talked about several days ago was the same woman he'd seen today, since Gabe said they hadn't seen her in a long while. No, the odds were highly against it. But where had Jo gone? He'd sure like to know what happened to her. Had his brother done something nefarious to the poor woman?

Baron walked to the window again, not liking that he thought such awful things about his brother.

He would like to meet today's stranger and talk to her again. Something about her tugged at his heart. Something was bothering her. Maybe God wanted him to pray for her. Yes—that must be why she filled his mind so much.

J
o reined the horse to a stop in front of Gabe's barn and sat there, staring out across the barren field in the distance. She pushed on Lara's sunbonnet until it fell onto her back as she relished the cool air blowing across her warm head. All the way home she'd berated herself for talking to the store owner. She hadn't gotten his name, but he must be Mark's brother or possibly a cousin. What would she have said if he'd asked her name? Lied to him? She couldn't tell him the truth.

As she dismounted, her pulse sped up at her sudden thought. If the man was Mark's brother, that meant he was also Jamie's uncle. He would likely know where Mark was, not that she cared to see him again, but would he tell Mark that she was back in the area? Jo's hands shook as she led the horse into the barn. If Mark returned, she'd have to leave—maybe she should go now and not risk him finding out about their son.

Gabe stepped out of the tack room carrying a saddle. He set it on an empty stall railing and walked toward her. “How was your trip to town?”

She searched for something common to mention—something other than the Hillborne store. “The town has grown. There are brick buildings now.”

Gabe nodded. “That's true. Did you find what you were looking for?”

She handed him the reins and unhooked a bag from the saddle horn and held it up. “Got the flannel and fabric Lara asked for.” She forced a smile, knowing that wasn't what he was referring to.

He stared at her for a long moment. “Look, Jo. You're family and always welcome here, but Lara's in a delicate condition right now, and I don't want you upsetting her.”

She lifted her chin. “I have no intention of doing that.”

“Maybe you don't
intend
to hurt her, but you do. I just hope you've changed. You're a mother now, and that has a way of settling a woman down.”

Jo didn't know how to respond. Part of her wanted to smack him for the things he said, while the other part knew they were more than deserved. “I'll try hard not to hurt her.”

He nodded. “That's all I'm asking.” He led the horse into the stall, and Jo turned to leave. “Did you meet Baron Hillborne?”

Jo swung around, surprised. “You've met him?”

“Yes, and he seems like a levelheaded man. He's a lot different from Mark, although there are many similarities.”

Baron … what an odd name, but then she remembered that Mark's mother was enamored with European nobility, and he had confessed one night that his real name was Marquis, which he hated. “They do resemble one another.”

“So, you met him.”

“I admit I was more than a little curious to see the store reopened. I had to know if Mark was there.” Because if he was, she'd be gone by tomorrow.

“He's Mark's older brother. Did you tell him who you are?”

Jo's eyes widened, and she hugged the bag of fabric to her chest. “Of course not. We didn't get far enough for introductions. I rushed out of the store so fast that I'm sure he thinks I'm a crazy woman.”

Gabe chuckled. “I wondered that a time or two myself.”

Jo wanted to be upset, but instead, a smile broke loose. She owed Gabe a wealth of gratitude for how he loved her sister and had provided for their family so well. Who knew where Lara, Michael, and Grandpa would have ended up without his help, especially since her sister failed to get a claim in the land run after her horse took a fall. She knew Lara believed God had sent Gabe to help them—and maybe He had. So why hadn't He sent anyone to rescue Jo?

As she reached the front of the house, she noticed Grandpa sitting in a rocker with his eyes closed. She paused, wondering if she should go around to the kitchen door, when his lashes lifted and he smiled. He straightened, staring directly at her. “I just can't get enough looking at you.” He reached for the arm of the rocker next to his and patted it. “Come and sit with an old man.”

He'd probably lecture her on her behavior, but she couldn't refuse. She'd missed him while she was gone and had worried that she might never see him again. Years of suffering malaria attacks had left him the shell of the man he was when she and her siblings had first gone to live with him and their grandma. She took the seat next to his, wondering if he had something specific on his mind or if he merely wanted to visit.

“That li'l tyke of yours sure is somethin'. Looks a lot like you.”

Jo nodded. Her son did resemble her, but she could see Mark in him, too.

“How'd you come by the girl?”

Jo chose to skip that question. “Do you know where she is?”

“She's sitting with Michael while he and Lara work on his reading and arithmetic. That girl sure has a passion to learn. How come she didn't get no schoolin'?”

“I don't know. She doesn't talk much about her past.”

“Where'd you find her?”

Jo sighed and leaned her head back against the chair, setting her package in her lap. She should have known he was like a dog with a bone he wouldn't turn loose of. “She was at the last place I stayed. I felt the owner had something odious in mind for her, so I took her with me when I left.”

He shook his head, pursing his lips. “You can't take other folks' children, Jo.”

“I'm pretty sure the person who had her wasn't her parent. Her mother is dead, and she's never mentioned her father. I couldn't let anything bad happen to her.”

“You're right about that, but it makes me wonder what kind of place you were staying at.”

“It doesn't matter. We're no longer there, and we're not going back.”

Grandpa rubbed his chin. “I reckon you heard that Hillborne's is open again.”

“That's part of the reason I went there today.”

“I suspected as much. Was
he
there?”

“Mark? No, and I'm glad.”

Grandpa turned her way, a worried expression on his wrinkled brow. “I don't know what happened between you two, Punkin, but it pains me to say that I hope you don't plan to get back together with him. I'm not one to believe in divorce, but a man ought not go off and leave his wife.”

Jo forced herself not to react. She couldn't very well divorce a man she'd never officially been married to. If Grandpa knew how Mark had tricked her by having a phony preacher marry them, he'd probably go gunning for him, even if it killed him. “I can assure you, Grandpa, that I never want to see Mark again.”

“Gabe says the man at the store is his brother. That means he's related to that boy of yours.”

“Gabe and I talked about Baron Hillborne, but I fail to see how his relation to Jamie matters.”

Grandpa shrugged. “I'd think you of all people would understand, the way your brother up and left us. Family is important.”

Jo straightened, scooting to the edge of the chair, more than ready to be done with this conversation. He didn't say anything about how she had abandoned the family, but she felt sure he was referring to that, too. “What Jack did has no bearing on this situation, and Jamie is no concern of Baron Hillborne's. Mark never talked about him, so I have no idea what sort of man he is.”

He clucked his tongue and shook his head. “What kind of man did you marry?”

A lying, deceiving snake.
Jo rose. “I need to check on Jamie.” She bent down and kissed him. “Don't worry about me, Grandpa. I've been taking care of myself for a long while.”

As she stepped through the open door, she thought she heard him mumble, “Far too long.”

In the kitchen, she paused in the doorway and took in the homey scene. Sarah sat on Lara's left with Michael on his mother's right side. Eight-year-old Michael was reading a sentence from a simple children's reader. She slipped away, not wanting to disturb them, and went upstairs. In her room, she found Jamie still asleep.

She quietly placed the package on the bed and sat in the rocker, thinking about her encounter with Baron Hillborne. What would he have said if she had introduced herself as Mark's wife? Or his kept woman, which was closer to the truth. Would he demand to see his nephew? Or would he despise Jamie if he learned the truth about her sham marriage?

Baron had kind, concerned eyes, not teasing, flirting ones like Mark. From the first time she met Mark, he'd seemed on a mission to win her heart, although looking back, she didn't think it was her heart he wanted. Jo sighed. She hadn't exactly been difficult prey. No, she'd wanted to be caught. She had wanted an excuse to get away from Lara. She'd longed to walk down the street on the arm of a handsome man, and she wanted a pretty house, not one with dirt floors and ceilings. And pretty dresses that drew a man's eye.

Her throat tightened. She had gotten all that she wanted, only to learn too late that with those dreams came unimaginable nightmares.

Saturday evening, Jo laid Jamie in the bed and spread his blanket over him. Dressed in a nightgown that had belonged to Lara, Sarah sat in the bed they shared, looking at the first grade reader Michael no longer used. With her brow furrowed, she squinted at the letters as if staring at them long enough would cause them to make sense.

Jo had never cared much for school. She'd much rather be fishing with Grandpa and riding one of the many horses he used to own when he still had his ranch. Those days when her grandmother was still alive were good days, once she and her siblings started to get over the loss of their parents. She'd been so young when they died—only five years old. Then Grandma cut her arm on some barbed wire and, not long after, died from a fever. And then Jack left, and she hadn't seen her brother since then. Though they were never close because of their twelve-year age difference, she had looked up to him. Had Jack gone west and become a cowboy like he had talked of doing? She shook her head, wondering what had caused her to reminisce about those sad days.

Sarah blew out a loud breath and tossed the book to the end of the bed. “I cannot learn your words.”

Jo walked over to the bed, smoothed out a wrinkled page, and closed the book. “What you need to learn first is the letters; then you can read the words.”

Sarah shook her head. “I not smart like white people.”

Jo suspected that the girl was probably half-white because her coloring wasn't as dark a reddish brown as most Indians she'd seen. Her hair was lighter, too—dark brown instead of black. “You are smart. You simply need someone to show you how to sound out your letters. Let me show you an easy word.” She thumbed through the pages to the middle of the alphabet. “You see this letter that looks like a fishhook? It's a
J,
and makes a sound like
Juh
.”