Linda Ford (10 page)

She tucked in her chin. She would pray for God to show her where she belonged and she would forge onward.

Colton straightened, a board in his hand. He turned, saw her and set the board down. He headed toward her and said, “I need to talk to you.”

That sounded ominous. She almost changed her mind.

“I’ve had time to think about this situation and I’m afraid I can’t agree with your staying in town. I want you to come back to the ranch.” He added, as an afterthought, “Please.”

She realized her mouth had fallen open and shut it. Then she started to laugh.

He clamped his lips tight. His eyes shuttered. “No need to mock me.”

“I’m not.”

“A simple refusal would suffice.” He turned back to the pile of wood.

“Colton, wait.” She grabbed his arm, surprised at the strength and power of his muscles as they rippled beneath her fingers. She brought her focus back to her mission. “The reason I laughed was because I came here, full of fear and trepidation, to say I’ve changed my mind and want to go back to the ranch.” She lowered her gaze a moment. “If you’re willing to put up with my inexperience.” Oh, that word felt so much better than
inadequacy
.

He touched her shoulder and she jerked her gaze back to him. Had she put that glow in his green eyes? All she’d done was agree to return to the ranch.

“I am glad to live with your inexperience.”

His gaze seemed to promise a world of opportunity and joy. He dropped his hand from her shoulder. “Let’s get the children and take them home.”

They were soon on their way back to the ranch, Heidi sucking on a candy. Colton kept darting glances at Rebecca and grinning. For the first time in ages, she felt welcomed.

He let her off at the doorway. “I’ll take care of the horse.”

Rebecca carried Gabriel in his basket, and Heidi followed close on her heels. The little girl might want to stay at the ranch, but she hadn’t lost her sense of caution.

They went inside and Rebecca glanced into the sitting room. Mr. Hayes sat in the rocking chair, his head tipped back as he snored loudly. Mrs. Hayes wasn’t in the room. She must have gone to her bedroom to nap. Rebecca headed to the kitchen, a smile in her heart.

He had asked her to return. Said he didn’t mind her inexperience. She hugged the joy of that thought close. Then she stepped farther into the kitchen and gasped.

Beyond the table, Mrs. Hayes sat unmoving on the floor, a bowl of sugar spilled around her. She stared at Rebecca with wide eyes.

Chapter Nine

R
ebecca handed the basket to Heidi. “Watch Gabriel.” She eased down to Mrs. Hayes’s side, wondering if the woman would welcome her help.

“What happened?”

Mrs. Hayes blinked hard. “I needed sugar for the coffee.” Two full cups sat on the table. “I couldn’t breathe. I guess I fell.”

Rebecca squatted before the older woman. “Are you hurt?”

Mrs. Hayes moved her feet, looked at her arms. “I don’t think so. But I can’t seem to get up.”

“Let me help you.” She’d watched the nurse tending her mother and knew to reach under Mrs. Hayes’s arms and guide her to her feet. The woman struggled as if her legs didn’t want to work, but she managed to stand, Rebecca holding her close.

“Are you okay?”

“None too steady.”

Rebecca could feel her trembling. “Let’s get you back to your cot.” She held the woman as they shuffled past the table, past Heidi, who watched wide-eyed. They crossed the sitting room and Rebecca eased the woman to the cot, then lifted her feet. She didn’t mention how badly swollen Mrs. Hayes’s lower limbs were. “Do you still want coffee?”

“If you don’t mind.”

Rebecca hurried back to the kitchen, swept up the spilled sugar, dumped out the cold coffee and poured a fresh cup.

Mr. Hayes jerked awake as she put cups before each of them. “You’re back,” he murmured. “Good to see you.”

Mrs. Hayes caught Rebecca’s arm and pulled her close. “Don’t tell them about my fall. They already worry enough. Colton would never leave us alone if he heard.” She sank back. “I am such a burden to him.”

Rebecca plumped the pillows behind the older woman so she could drink her coffee and pulled the blanket over her legs, as much to hide their swelling as to provide warmth. “I won’t say anything, but I know Colton doesn’t consider you a burden.”

Mrs. Hayes sighed. “You don’t know the whole story.”

“I don’t suppose I do.” And she never would unless Colton chose to tell her. But why would he? She was only a temporary necessity.

Yet when she tucked the blanket into place and Mrs. Hayes gave her a weak smile—the first smile she’d gotten from the woman—she thought that she might have finally proven herself useful. And there was satisfaction enough in that.

* * *

Colton whistled as he did the chores. Rebecca had come back. Had planned to return even without him begging. It was only temporary. He knew that. Knew it was all he could expect. She was high society; he was working class. She was big city; he was country. She came from privilege and opportunity. He had a small ranch and a set of parents who needed his constant attention. But he meant to enjoy her presence while he could.

It took him almost an hour to feed the animals, gather the eggs and do the hundred things that needed doing every day. With nothing planned for supper, they might have to settle for eggs. He’d always considered such meals adequate, until now.

His chores finished, he headed for the house. Never mind what they ate: sharing it with Rebecca and Heidi, and watching little Gabriel eat, was pleasure enough.

He stepped into the house. The table was set. The smell of food filled the room. Rebecca stood before the stove, smiling with satisfaction.

He stared at her and in that moment something he thought he’d put to death and buried was resurrected. The dream of a home and family of his own. Rebecca fit perfectly into the dream.

Her smiled faded. Her eyes clouded with uncertainty. “I thought I would go ahead and make the meal.”

“I’m glad you did.” More glad than a meal already prepared warranted.

She grinned. “I told you. I’m a fast learner. Wash up and sit down. Everything is ready.”

He did. Boiled potatoes, fried steak, green beans and—he sniffed—was that chocolate pudding? “How did you do this?”

Pa grinned. “She planned it in town.”

“She bought the things at the store.” Heidi enjoyed Rebecca’s success as if it were her own.

Rebecca looked pleased. “I asked Holly for a cookbook and some help.”

“It’s delicious.”

“I didn’t try gravy.” She ducked her head, but not before he caught the flash of a smile. “I wasn’t sure I could manage that.”

He laughed. “Gravy or not, this is the best meal I’ve had in a long time.” To have her in the kitchen, preparing a meal, greeting him with a smile every day—

He jammed a cork in the thoughts pouring forth.

Ma pushed her potatoes around on her plate. “You and Pa really liked your potatoes riced. Remember that?”

“I’d forgotten. No reason we can’t do it again.” He couldn’t stop himself from smiling at Rebecca, at the same time hoping she hadn’t noticed that he said
we.
“Ma, where is that ricer?”

“Can’t say as I recall.” Ma gave him a look full of what he could only describe as warning.

Not that he’d forgotten her words. He wasn’t going to get too fond of a rich, city girl. Not if he knew what was good for him.

But when Rebecca served them each a bowl of luscious chocolate pudding, topped with spoon-thick cream, he couldn’t help wondering what was wrong with a rich, city girl if she could cook like this.

“Son, get my Bible,” Pa said.

At first, Colton didn’t move. Pa hadn’t asked for the Bible, nor offered to read to them, for a long time.

“I think the occasion and these guests call for us to live like our family has always done.”

Pa didn’t need to explain his request. Colton was happy to see the return of old rituals. He got the Bible and listened as Pa read a passage and then prayed a blessing on them all. This was how he remembered his family. How it used to be. Before Pa got hurt.

He pushed from the table. He was to blame for Pa’s accident. And he’d care for him until he died.

There was no room in his life for dreams.

But he couldn’t escape the stirrings of those long-denied hopes and wishes as he helped Rebecca and Heidi wash the dishes and clean the kitchen. They were chores he’d done on his own for a number of years, but sharing them with his guests made them a joy rather than a job.

Most likely, it was unusual and perhaps unwelcome work for Rebecca. The least he could do was show her one of the wonders of the ranch. He pretended that was the only reason for what he wanted to do and denied a longing to share his pleasure and his time with her.

He hung the damp tea towel on the rack behind the stove. “Rebecca, the baby is sleeping. Heidi can watch him. Would you like to go for a walk to see more of the place?”

Her eyes lit up with eagerness, then she turned to Heidi. “Would you be okay with that?”

Heidi nodded. “I don’t mind.”

“I’ll show you around later,” Colton promised the girl. “We won’t be long. If you need us, there’s a triangle outside the door.” He showed her. “You bang it with this rod and I’ll come running.”

She giggled. “You’d run?”

“Every step of the way.”

She considered him with a steady brown gaze, her eyes trusting him.

His heartbeat felt sluggish. He wanted to promise Heidi he would always come running if she needed him. But it wasn’t possible. He reiterated the reasons and reminded himself of all he owed Ma and Pa.

He stepped out the door, Rebecca at his side, and directed their footsteps to a path that led away from the house and the outbuildings. “Pa came out here twenty years ago. One of the earliest settlers. I was eight years old. I loved the place from the first day.”

They reached a knoll. “I stood on this very spot and stared out across rolling fields, wondering if they went on forever.”

He let her take in the view.

She turned brilliant eyes toward him. “Do they?”

“Almost.”

She grinned. “It reminds me of the ocean. The way the grass bends and sways is like rolling waves.”

“I’ve never seen the ocean.”

“It’s big.” She laughed.

“Kind of figured that out on my own. It ain’t like I’m stupid just ’cause I’m a farmer.” He did his best to sound dull.

She rolled her head back and forth. “Are you purposely taking offense at an innocent statement?”

“Maybe.” Maybe he just wanted to remind himself of the differences between them.

She turned to consider the scenery again. “Are those wildflowers over there?”

He nodded. “Want to see them?”

“I’d love to.” She picked up her skirts and trotted across the grass.

He followed more slowly, enjoying the scenery—every bit of it—but especially the blond-haired girl running toward the flowers.

She reached them and fell to her knees, cupping her hands about the blossoms. “What are they called?”

He named them—black-eyed Susans, coneflowers, pink asters. “Wild flax blooms in the morning. It’s a very pretty blue.”

She parted the grass and studied the pink asters. “So beautiful yet untended.”

“God’s a good gardener.”

She let out a deep sigh. “He is, isn’t He?” She lifted her face to the sky and closed her eyes. Was she praying? He kept quiet, just in case.

She opened her eyes, saw him watching and smiled. “I was asking God to help me with my responsibilities. I need to see the orphanage built before the children arrive and I want Heidi to have a home. But I’m running out of time.” She rose and stared out at the landscape. “I’ve already been told to return to New York. I begged for an extension, but I don’t know how long I will be allowed to remain here.”

His heart leaped a little when she said she’d asked to stay...but it was just for an extension, not forever. Sooner or later, she planned to return to New York. Not that he didn’t know that, but he’d tried to forget it. “What will happen to Heidi?” The words ached in his throat.

“She will stay here in the new orphanage.”

His fists clenched at his sides. Life could be so unfair. “Can you stop it?” Shock deepened his voice.

Her eyes narrowed. Her nostrils flared. “I’ve tried to place her in a home.” She looked away and swallowed hard. “I’m still hoping to find a family to take her in. I’ve considered asking my father to give her a place in the household.”

Shouldn’t she sound a bit more enthusiastic? “That would be good. She should be part of a family.”

Her expression clouded. “She’d likely be a kitchen maid.” She must have noticed his confusion. “The cook would be good to her.”

“She’d be a servant?” He tried to picture what she meant. How many servants did they have? “What’s your home like?”

“It’s—” She shot him a look he could only describe as uncertain. Then she shrugged. “I don’t know how to describe it.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re afraid to tell me about it. Why?”

“I’m not afraid,” she huffed. “I’m proud of my home. But—” She gave a great deal of attention to brushing a fleck of dirt from her dress.

He studied her downturned head, the golden halo of her hair. “I realize you’re from a well-to-do family. So I expect you live in a fine, big house. I only wanted to picture it.”

She flashed him a smile so innocently charming that his heart crashed against his rib cage.

“Very well. It was built seventy-five years ago by my great-grandfather Patton Sterling as a testament to his success in wheat farming and milling operations—” she lowered her voice “—among other things, some of which are never mentioned. It is a three-story Greek Revival–style home with a freestanding spiral staircase from the parlors on the ground floor to the bedrooms above.” She sounded as if she were reading from a script.

Colton realized he was staring at her gape-mouthed and jerked his mouth shut. Greek Revival? Parlor?

Her eyes twinkled like sunshine. “Did you want the official tour speech or something less formal?”

“I think less formal.”

“What I remember best is the nursery. It was filled with toys and books. My favorite spot was a window seat overlooking the orchard.”

A nursery? An orchard? Each word humbled him more and more. He must look like a real country hick to brag about the wildflowers and the rolling hills.

She continued, “I used to curl up on the padded seat and read. Often I would get so lost in my imagination that the nurse would have to tap me on the shoulder to get my attention.”

“You had a nurse? Were you sick?”

She chuckled. “No, the nurse took care of me while my mother tended to her duties.”

He swallowed twice to think she’d been raised by a hired servant.

“How big is this house?”

“Thirty rooms,” she mumbled.

“Did you say thirty? But I thought you were an only child.”

“I am.”

“I can see why your mother was so busy she didn’t have time to care for you. All those rooms to clean.”

“The servants cleaned the house.” She shifted her gaze to something beyond his shoulder.

“Exactly what did your mother do?”

Rebecca wiped a finger along her chin. “It’s complicated. She planned dinner parties for my father. She made afternoon visits to women of like mind.”

He noticed how she stumbled to find words to describe her mother’s activities. To him they sounded useless and silly, but he wouldn’t voice the thought. Thirty rooms? Servants? A child raised by a servant? He floundered to make sense of it, let alone picture her or Heidi in that situation. “Didn’t you get lost in a house that size?”

She laughed. “I did once, when I was very young. Usually my nurse took me where I had to go, but I had slipped away from her and couldn’t remember which way to turn. I had everyone searching for me for hours because, when I couldn’t find the room I wanted, I simply curled up on the carpet and fell asleep.”

He understood she found the story amusing, but he could only stare.

That was what Heidi would go to? A huge house. Servants but not family. It didn’t seem ideal to him, even though Rebecca seemed to think it was normal. There had to be something else for the child. A thousand solutions sprang to his mind...all of them stamped with impossibility. He knew of no one he felt would take Heidi. He couldn’t keep her. Single men simply weren’t allowed to adopt children.

What if he married?

But who would marry a man with needy parents who also wanted to adopt a little girl?

He wanted to punch something, kick something, shake his fist at the sky.