Summer Breeze (22 page)

"I did work for a spell after supper." He grinned and winked. "My Sue Ellen is tickled about me getting them done so fast. When she's happy, I'm happy, if you get my meaning."

Joseph chuckled. "Well, you tell Mrs. White that I appreciate her kindheartedness. Rachel will feel much safer with those bars over her doors."

"Me and the wife just hope she can start enjoying a little sunshine." Bubba leaned over to grab a bar in one massive fist. "I'll help you get 'em loaded up."

On the way out to the wagon, Bubba called over his

shoulder, "Now that Sue Ellen knows about Miss Rachel missing the sunshine, she's got a maggot in her brain about building the lady a courtyard."

"A what?"

"A courtyard," Bubba repeated. "A walled-in yard with a barred gate and ceiling. You reckon Miss Rachel would enjoy something like that?"

It was a brilliant idea, in Joseph's estimation. A courtyard. A bubble of excitement lodged at the base of his throat. "I can't rightly say if she would or not, Bubba. She's skittish as all get-out about open places."

"Wouldn't be open, not really. Sue Ellen's talking about tall rock walls, with the ceiling bars set into the mortar and anchored by a final layer of stone. With a heavy iron gate that locks from the inside, it would be an outdoor fortress with walls on all sides."

"I don't know," Joseph said cautiously. "Let me see how she does with the bars over the doors first. No point in our going off half cocked, building something she won't use."

Bubba looked disappointed.

"It's a really grand idea, though," Joseph hurried to add. "Ever since I saw how she lives, I've been racking my brain, trying to think of some way she might enjoy the outdoors. I never would have thought of a courtyard. If Rachel feels safe with the bars and can open the regular door to let in fresh air, there's a good chance that she'll feel safe inside a courtyard, too."

Bubba wiped sweat from his brow. "I'm thinking fifteen feet wide, maybe twenty feet long." He swung a beefy hand toward the pile of rusting metal in the yard. "God knows I've got plenty of scrap iron. Just a

little area where Miss Rachel can sit outside for bits of time and maybe even grow a flower garden to attract the butterflies and birds."

Joseph could already picture it. A lovely garden area with a bench and flowers all around, perhaps even a small tree. He wanted to hug Sue Ellen for coming up with the idea. If Rachel could gather the courage, she would be able to sit outside. Sunlight would filter down through the grillwork.

She'd be able to feel the summer breeze in her hair. Even better, she'd be able to hear the birdsong again. Joseph knew, deep in his bones, that Rachel would absolutely love that.

"Bubba, your wife is a genius."

The blacksmith's freckles were eclipsed by a blush that suffused his entire face. "Well, now, don't tell her that. She's pesky enough as it is." He rubbed a hand over his sooty leather apron. "Truth to tell, though, I'm convinced it's a pretty good idea myself. This morning, Sue Ellen talked it up at church, and a number of folks have volunteered to bring wagonloads of rock. Everybody seems to have a rock pile from when their land was cleared. All we lack is the mortar, and Jake Lenkins, from out at the quarry, said he'll donate the mixings for that."

Joseph's throat had gone tight. He couldn't push any words out.

"I hope you aren't thinkin' it's none of our beeswax," Bubba said. "I tried to talk Sue Ellen out of it, but once she got the idea in her head, there wasn't any stopping her."

Joseph took off his hat, slapped it against his leg, and then plopped it back on his head. He didn't know

if Rachel would ever find the courage to step from her kitchen into a courtyard. But did that really matter? What counted the most to Joseph was that Bubba and his wife had cared enough to come up with the idea. Maybe some people always scrutinized the pieces of pie. But there were others who were just wonderful folks who didn't give a care about gossip and only wanted to make nice things happen for others.

Rachel Hollister had lived in an isolated purgatory for five long years, and now the people of No Name meant to liberate her.

As Joseph left the blacksmith shop and headed for home, his mood had greatly improved. A courtyard for Rachel. He could scarcely believe that Sue Ellen White had already found people who'd volunteered to bring rock. Once it was delivered, all that would remain was for Joseph to start erecting the walls. He felt confident that his brothers would pitch in to help. An almost impossible dream—summer breezes for Rachel—might soon be a reality.

A dozen different plans took shape in Joseph's mind—how to design her flower garden, what plants to order, and the kind of bench to build. And bird-houses, maybe. They'd look cute, hanging from the ironwork over the courtyard, and a few birds might even nest in them. Wouldn't Rachel be delighted if she could watch the eggs hatch and the babies grow?

When Joseph reached his place, he was surprised to see a strange buggy parked in front of his house. Not Doc's, he decided. This one was newer and looked to be something a lady might drive.

Joseph parked the

buckboard just outside the barn because he wanted to gather some tools before he left for the Bar H. He circled the barn to check in on Johnny and Bart, caught Johnny sitting on his laurels in the shade with his hat pulled over his eyes, and coughed to wake the young man from his nap.

"Mr. Paxton!" the hired hand sputtered as he lurched to his feet.

"Is this what I'm paying you a fair wage to do, Johnny, napping before the day is over?"

"No, sir." Johnny clapped his hat back on his head. "I was just taking a break, is all. I don't know how I managed to drift off like that. Maybe just working too hard."

Joseph doubted that. "Don't let it happen again, or I'll dock your wages," he said sternly. He thumbed his hand toward a heifer out in the field. "You need to be riding the fence lines, looking for cows that are about to calve. Where's Bart?"

"Off doing that, I reckon."

"Well, get out there and help him," Joseph shot back. "I expect a fair amount of work for a fair amount of pay."

The younger man dusted off his pants and went to collect his horse. Joseph gazed after him, glad that he'd stopped by and caught the hired hand lollygag-ging. It would be a few days before Johnny forgot the reprimand and napped on the job again.

Joseph watched until the hired hand rode from the barnyard. Then he decided to mosey over to the house and find out who'd come calling.

When he entered through the front door, he heard

voices coming along the hallway that led to the back of the house. He'd built three bedrooms, just in case his two younger brothers ever decided to leave Ace's place. Joseph loved David and Esa, he truly did, and he wouldn't mind if they came to live with him, but he'd gotten enough of bunking with them as a boy.

He crossed the sitting room, which was open to the kitchen, and followed the voices to Darby's sickroom, the first door on the right. To his surprise, Amanda Hollister sat on a straight-backed chair beside the bed. With trembling hands, she was sponging Darby's flushed face. From the opposite side of the bed, Esa looked on, his expression concerned.

"How's he doing?" Joseph asked softly.

Amanda glanced up. Joseph was struck once again by her resemblance to Rachel. "Joseph," she said with a smile. "It's good to see you."

Given the fact that they hadn't parted on the best of terms yesterday, Joseph was surprised by the warm greeting. "It's nice to see you, too," he replied and meant it. There was something about this old lady that he instinctively liked. "What brings you over this way?"

Bright spots of color flagged her cheeks. "I'm tempted to say I came only to check on Darby, but the truth is, I also came to apologize. I was unforgivably rude yesterday. I shouldn't have gotten so defensive."

Joseph searched her blue eyes, which were amazingly clear, considering her age. "David and I understood." He glanced at Darby again. The old foreman looked to be asleep. "Is he still feverish?"

"He is, I'm afraid." Amanda dipped the sponge into

a bowl of water on the nightstand. "Burning up, in fact."

"Doc just left a bit ago," Esa said. "He doped him up with laudanum so he can rest. The wound is inflamed and paining him something fierce."

"I hate to hear that." Joseph rested loosely folded arms on the wrought-iron foot of the bed frame.

"What's Doc saying?"

"Mostly the same thing, that inflammation and fever are to be expected."

Joseph nodded. "Does he still think Darby's chances are good?"

Esa shrugged. "He didn't say. I take that to mean he's worried. Darby's no spring chicken, and this fever is taking a toll."

Amanda left off bathing the foreman's face. "No spring chicken, you say? Darby McClintoch has more steel in his spine than six younger men." Her eyes fairly snapped when she looked at Esa.

"He'll make it through this, mark my words, and he'll go on to work circles around both of you for another twenty years."

Joseph hoped she was right. He wasn't sure how Rachel would handle it if Darby died, and he sure as hell didn't want to be the one to deliver the news to her.

Amanda tossed the sponge back into the bowl and struggled to her feet. She wore a tailored brown jacket and a matching ankle-length riding skirt. She reached out a frail hand to Joseph.

"Lend me your arm, young man. I want to take a turn in the yard with you."

Joseph hurried around the end of the bed. Instead of merely lending her an arm, he encircled her back to

better support her. She was none too steady on her feet.

After they exited the house, she slowed her pace and then came to a standstill near her buggy. "I barely slept a wink last night for thinking about your visit."

"Don't worry about it. It won't be the last time that David will be invited to leave someone's house, and me along with him. A badge has a way of wearing out a man's welcome in short order."

Amanda shook her head. "I felt bad about asking you to leave, but, in and of itself, that wasn't what kept me awake. Your brother came to me for help, and instead of trying to provide some, I took offense and ordered him out." She gazed for a long moment at the house. "I love him, you know. Darby, I mean."

"So does your great-niece. By all accounts, he's a fine man."

"That's not the way I mean," Amanda corrected. "I mean I
love
him. I have for years."

"Oh."

She smiled tremulously. "I see the questions in your eyes. How and when did we meet, and if I love him, why am I seventy and still not with him?" She drew away to lean against the buggy wheel. Her eyes went shadowy with pain. "Darby went to work for my father back in Kentucky when I was still just a girl. When my father pulled up stakes to come out west, Darby came with us."

"So you've known him almost all your life?"

"Oh, yes. When my father died, Darby stayed on to work for my brother. Over the years, he became like a member of the family, more than just a hired hand."

Joseph nodded to convey his understanding.

She shrugged. "As a girl back in Kentucky, I suppose you might say I was just a mite headstrong."

Joseph could well imagine that. Not many women her age threatened to take a whip to a man for mistreating a horse. "Never met a Kentuckian yet who wasn't just a little headstrong, and we all take the bit in our teeth when we're young, I reckon."

"I was more headstrong than most, and when I was sixteen, I made a terrible mistake." She drew a quivering breath. "A fast-talking, handsome young wrangler came to work on my father's spread, and I fancied myself in love with him. When I got in the family way, the wrangler showed his true colors and lit out for parts unknown. My father was a stern, prideful man. Rather than endure the shame of it, he sent me away to have my child in secrecy. My baby was given up for adoption, and no one at home ever knew about it, not even Darby.

"When I returned home, Darby seemed to sense that I needed a friend. It was a difficult time for me. My father was an unforgiving man. But Darby was always a support to me. He never said much," she added with a smile, "but that's just Darby. With a little maturity under my belt, I began to appreciate the man behind the quietness. He wasn't a slick-talking charmer, to say the least, but he was steady, and he was true, and I came to love him."

"How did your father react to that?" Joseph asked.

"He never knew. He would have objected, I'm sure. Darby's only assets were his horse and saddle, and my father would have wanted me to marry a landowner.

No matter. The relationship was doomed from the start. When Darby eventually asked me to marry him, my answer had to be no."

Joseph frowned. "But why? If you loved him, why didn't you marry him?"

"I said no
because
I loved him," she said softly. Then she waved her hand. "It made sense to me at the time, Joseph. I was ruined—
tarnished
was the word for it back then. I believed with all my heart that Darby deserved better, someone pure and untouched."

"That's plum crazy."

She laughed and wiped her cheeks with palsied hands. "Yes, well, looking back on it, I realize that a woman can bring far more important things to a marriage than her virginity, and I deeply regret that I was such a misguided little fool. But there you have it. I did what I thought was right at the time—a great sacrifice for love. I was all of—what—eighteen? Girls can be very dramatic at that age, and I had no mother to set me straight. If I'd had a mother, maybe I wouldn't have gotten into such a pickle in the first place. But I didn't, and my father hated me for bringing shame upon my family and his good name."

"That seems mighty harsh."

"He
was
a harsh man. My mother's death nearly destroyed him. He was never the same afterward.

But that's neither here nor there. When I first came home after my time away, he called me into the barn and gave me an ultimatum. In order to remain in his household, I had to give him my solemn oath that I would never speak of my shame to anyone. As a result, I wasn't free to tell Darby
why
I wouldn't marry him. I