The Cowboy's Baby Bond (17 page)

He handed Adam to her and climbed up to sit beside her. How many days and hours had they ridden this way, his strength and steadiness seeping into her and giving her comfort? She shoved the air out of her lungs. But that was in the past.

She glanced over her shoulder to check on the girls, who sat huddled together. They had spent a miserable few hours trying to avoid getting wet inside their house. She reminded herself that she was doing this all for them.

With a flick of the reins they were on their way.

She was surprised but grateful when Johnny stopped at the store. “I ordered a few things I need to pick up,” he said as he jumped down.

“I need some supplies, as well.” She handed Adam to Celia and took Johnny's hand to get down, then preceded him into the store as he held the door. She would not let her thoughts hearken back to the other time he'd been here with her. That was old news.

Mr. Marsh took her order for food. In a few minutes it was ready and they carried the boxes out to the wagon.

“I have one more stop I need to make,” she said.

Johnny cast a worried glance to the sky. The dark clouds were almost upon them.

“It will only take a moment. I need to hire someone to fix the roof.”

“Of course.” They proceeded to the lumberyard and she arranged to have the work done. “Three days for sure? I don't want to return to find the roof isn't fixed.”

“It will be done.” The owner banged his fist on the counter for emphasis.

She nodded and left the office.

Johnny again helped her to the seat and then drove north out of town. As they followed the trail along the river, the rain-freshened air filled her lungs, the breeze cooled her face. And despite every reason in the world to think otherwise, anticipation drew her gaze and her heart down the trail toward the cabin.

“How far is it?” Sarah asked, her voice thin.

“It will take a couple of hours,” Johnny answered.

Willow gasped. Two hours! “I had no idea it was so far.”

“Does it make a difference?” He slanted a glance at her, then turned away, as if he couldn't bear to look at her.

She stuffed back the pain rising like bile. “Not really. I simply hadn't thought about the distance.” Being so far from town made her shiver. Not because she cared about living in the community, but because she liked the idea of being so far away with only Johnny and her family around. She acknowledged that it was a dangerous idea to allow, and she pushed it aside.

They traveled on in silence except for the creak and rattle of the wagon. Not the comfortable silence she'd known a few days ago, but one filled with regrets and ruined wishes. She had no one to blame but herself, having known from the start that her secret would make any relationship impossible.

The wind picked up and she drew her shawl closer about her, glancing back to make sure the others were warm enough and that Adam was covered against the cold.

A raindrop splattered on Willow's cheek and then another.

“We're going to get soaked.” What had made her think this was a good idea?

Johnny stopped the wagon, put on his slicker and climbed into the back to open one of the boxes and pull out new canvas. He wrapped Adam and the girls securely, pulling the edge up to cover their heads. “Can you see out?”

“Yes,” the girls said in unison.

He lifted out another piece of canvas and carried it to the seat, where he wrapped it about Willow. Every time his hand brushed her shoulder, her throat constricted. When he formed a hood over her head, his fingers brushed her cheek and she inadvertently leaned toward his touch.

“Keep the flap low and you'll stay nice and dry.” He sounded businesslike. Not at all affected by the contact between them.

“Thank you. How are you going to keep dry?” Perhaps she should lift one corner of the canvas and share it with him. Share their body heat. Keep each other safe and dry.

“I have my slicker and my hat. It's all I need.”

Exactly. He didn't need or want to share anything of himself with her. She dared not forget it again.

The rain descended, pounding against the canvas. The girls giggled. At least they enjoyed this. Willow drew back into the protective shell, making herself as small as possible. Not only against the rain but against the loneliness that sucked at her insides until she thought she would collapse.
I'm not lonely. I have my son and my sisters. It's all I need. And I have God. He will never leave me nor forsake me
. Her breath came more smoothly. With God's help she would make it through the next few days without getting confused about what she wanted and deserved.

After what seemed several hours, the rain passed over, leaving the world sparkling, as if shards of glass had been tossed across the grass and leaves. She pushed the canvas off her head.

“Look.” Johnny pointed. A double rainbow arched from horizon to horizon. The girls oohed and Willow stared. God had set the rainbow in the sky to remind them of His love. Seeing two made her think God especially wanted her to remember His promise.

“Thank You,” she whispered.

“Pardon?” Johnny leaned closer, tipping his head to hear. Water cascaded from the brim of his hat.

Laughing, her heart alive with joy, she ducked away.

“Sorry.” He removed his hat and smacked it against the side of the wagon, then returned it to his head. “I didn't catch what you said.”

For a moment she considered if she should tell him she hadn't meant for him to hear. But the need to share was too great. She told him how the rainbows made her remember God's promise of love. “I was saying thank-you to Him.”

Johnny studied her, his eyes searching.

She let him see the joy in her heart.

“You've renewed your faith?”

She nodded. “I had to live up to my own words. I told Sarah love means trusting. Like she said, you can trust God even when people disappoint you.” Willow didn't realize her words might sound like an accusation until after she'd spoken. She hadn't meant them as such, but held her breath, waiting to see how he would take them.

“I absolutely agree it's safe to trust God. Trusting people isn't always safe.” He'd turned her words against her.

Thankfully, he shifted his attention to the trail and wouldn't see the tears stinging her eyes. She blinked them away and steeled herself for what was to come. She had to endure him for the three days it would take to repair her roof.

Chapter Sixteen

J
ohnny had never been so glad to see the cabin. He didn't regret asking Willow and the children to stay there, but the two-hour trip gave him far too many opportunities to wish things could be different. But no doubt Willow understood how difficult it was to trust someone once the bond had been shattered. Mr. Reames had taught her well enough.

“There is it.” He pointed to the place. From here it was like a picture that should be hung on a wall of a house for everyone to admire. The rain had stopped and the sun had begun to peek through a narrow break in the clouds. In the sunshine the cabin sat front and center, the barn to one side, trees going back toward the flash of blue and white indicating the waterfall and the stream flowing from it.

Sarah crowded close. “I thought there was a waterfall.”

“Over there.” He pointed.

“I see it.”

He turned to face the girls. “I want both of you to promise you won't go there without an adult.”

Celia huffed. “I'm practically a grown-up.”

He didn't say it aloud, but likely his glance at Willow revealed his thoughts. Celia was close to the age Helen had been when she'd drowned, not at the waterfall, but caught in the swirling current farther down. Her father insisted she had banged her head before she drowned.

Johnny pulled the wagon to a halt. “I won't go on without a promise from both of you.”

Sarah gave it easily, but Celia scowled and made it clear her promise was given reluctantly.

“Thank you. I trust I can count on both of you to keep your word.”

“Humph. Don't ask if you don't believe,” Celia said.

He laughed. “You're right. Sorry.”

They drove up to the front steps.

“It's not a cabin,” Willow said with some surprise. “It's a beautiful house.”

“Wait until you see inside.” He jumped down and helped her to the ground. For a moment, her fingers lingered in his. Why did he let himself think it felt so right?

She slipped her hand away and turned to the girls. She took Adam from Celia. “What do you think?”

Sarah's eyes were wide. “It's like a beautiful dream.” She paused to look down the valley. “I can see for miles. Look at the raindrops shining in the sunlight. Oh, I wish we could stay here forever.”

Willow pulled her to her side. “Only a few days, then we go back to our own house, with the roof repaired so it won't leak.”

Celia hadn't said anything. “Are you going to let us inside?” she finally asked.

Johnny chuckled. “I can always count on you to bring us all back to reality.”

“You should be grateful.”

“Maybe I am.”

She shook her head, perhaps surprised he hadn't scolded her.

“Come along.” He led them up the steps and across the veranda, threw the door open and stepped aside to let them enter.

Sarah stopped a few feet inside the door and sighed. Celia followed and stood beside her little sister, looking around but saying nothing. It was Willow Johnny watched. As her gaze circled the room, a barely there smile touched her lips.

“It's nice. So clean and tidy.” She gave him a look that demanded to know if he was responsible.

“Maisie taught us all how to keep a house clean, how to cook and how to do our own laundry.”

Celia stared. “But you're a man.”

He roared with laughter. Seeing her confusion, he sobered. “You make it sound like a man can't learn to do those things.”

“Not can't. Won't.”

He looked at Willow when he replied. “Men don't always have a wife or mother or sister around to do it for them, so they learn to do for themselves.”

“Seems like that's why lots of them get married. Just to have someone do their dirty work.” Celia circled the room, looking out the window, running her fingers over the cupboard edges, staring at the fireplace.

Willow watched her, her expression cautious, as if wondering if she would have to deal with disapproval from her sister.

“Guess I can see why you want to live here, and why your friend does,” Willow said.

“It's not where we live that matters,” he told her. “It's running our partnership and being friends.”

She turned to stare at him. “I'm surprised you still trust him after he walked away from your partnership.”

Her words beat an insistent rhythm in his head. “I was disappointed, but I understood he had to deal with his grief.”

“So you accept his reasons?”

“I do.”

Her look went on and on until, uncomfortable, Johnny shifted away. Thad had been up-front and honest about leaving. He hadn't tried to run away without telling him his plans.

Thad had his reason.

And Willow thought she had hers
. The words came unbidden and unwelcome.

It wasn't the same.

“Let's bring your things inside and you can get settled. There are three bedrooms and a storeroom.” He pointed out the doors, then hurried back to the wagon. Celia followed and took the valises.

“You and Willow going to fight all the time we're here?”

“Fight? Neither of us has uttered a harsh word.”

She rolled her eyes. “And yet you manage to circle around like a pair of chickens pecking at the same bit of grain.”

“Not a very flattering picture.”

She shrugged and took the bags inside. He carried in the box of supplies.

“I'll take care of the horses and the wagon. Make yourselves at home. I'll be at the barn if you need anything.” He left the house without looking directly at Willow. Chickens pecking at grain? They weren't at all like that.

As he unhitched the mare, sounds of laughter came from the house. What were they doing besides settling in for a short stay? He strained his ears, wondering if he would overhear any words.

When he realized he had stood there for a good ten minutes listening, he gave himself a mental kick in the pants. No need for him to hang around the rest of the day. Besides, they could use fresh meat.

He swung onto Gray's saddle and went hunting.

The sun had driven away the dark clouds. The damp ground steamed as he returned with three rabbits. He'd give her two and cook the third for himself.

A spicy smell came from the kitchen as he approached. Sarah and Adam played on the veranda.

As soon as Adam saw Johnny, he pushed himself to his feet and took one toddling step toward him. “Man.”

“Willow,” Johnny called. “Come see this.”

She rushed outside, wiping her hands on a towel.

“He's walking.”

Adam tottered and plunked to his bottom.

Johnny dropped the rabbits on the steps and picked Adam up, putting him on his feet. He aimed the boy toward Willow. “Walk to Mama.” He released the baby.

Willow squatted down and held out her hands.

“Mama.” Adam wavered, almost sat again, then righted himself and went straight to Willow's arms.

She hugged him and laughed, her gaze holding Johnny's. Silently he admitted a shared joy over this little boy.

Celia had come to the door and was rocking her head back and forth.

“What's wrong?” he asked. They weren't fighting. Not even near.

“If you don't see what's right in front of you, there's no point in saying anything.”

He had no idea what she meant, but remembered what had brought him to the house. “I caught you some meat for supper.” He handed the rabbits to Willow.

“Thank you. We'll appreciate it. Will you join us for the meal?”

“I...” He realized he'd given her all three rabbits. If he didn't join them, he'd be stuck with jerky. Not that jerky wasn't fine, but it wasn't as enjoyable as freshly fried meat. “I'd like that.”

“Later, then?”

“Yes.” He jumped off the veranda and headed for the corrals. The ground would be soft after the rain. A perfect time to dig postholes.

He purposely kept his back to the house as he tackled the job.

* * *

“Why did you invite him?” Celia sounded aggrieved as usual.

Willow concentrated on dipping pieces of meat in the seasoned flour and frying them in the sizzling fat. “It seemed like the neighborly thing to do, considering we've put him out of his own house.” She'd offered the invitation without thinking of the fact they would share the table like a real family.

“But you don't even like him.” Celia's words jerked Willow's attention to her.

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Well, do you or don't you?”

“Do I what?” Celia had a way of skirting what she really meant.

“Do you like him?”

Willow flipped the pieces of meat as she considered her answer. Liking was one thing. It meant she enjoyed an occasional visit, perhaps over a cup of tea. It meant waving a greeting if they passed on the street. It did not, however, mean she could tell him her dreams and longings. It did not mean he would be there at her side through thick and thin. It did not mean she could share her secrets, knowing he would understand them and honor them. “I like him fine,” she finally said.

The meat was browned and she stacked it in a Dutch oven, put the lid on and moved it back to cook slowly.

“Then maybe you should make sure he knows it.”

“Huh?” She stared at her sister, again not clear what she meant. But then Willow wasn't certain she wanted to know Celia's thoughts. “Why don't we go for a walk while things cook?” She didn't wait for an answer, but stepped outside, where Sarah and Adam played together. She scooped the baby into her arms and invited her sister along on their walk. “Sarah, you don't know how much help you are to me when you watch the baby.”

“I like playing with him.”

“He likes playing with you, too.”

Celia followed several paces behind them.

Willow stopped to admire the view of the sloping valley. She turned for a sight of the mountains to the right. Her gaze skidded to a halt at the corrals, where Johnny worked a posthole digger, the muscles on his back rippling with the effort. His arms flashed back and forth as he turned the implement. She liked him. But he didn't need to know. Especially not how much.

She followed a little path around the house and came to a fenced in area. “They had a garden. Look, there are some beans and peas that came up on their own.” She pushed open the gate and went to the plants. “We can have some for supper.”

Sarah held Adam as Willow made a basket of her apron, and Celia helped her pick. Her apron was soon full of peas and beans.

“Wouldn't it be fun to live here?” Sarah said. “Do you think Johnny would let us if we ask?”

“Honey, you know he's expecting his friend, and they're going to live here and raise horses.”

“Yes, but won't they get lonely? Won't they want a family? Maybe they'd be glad to have us here. We could take care of them and they could take care of us.”

“It sounds nice,” Willow allowed. “But it's not possible.”

“But why?”

“Because they're fighting. Haven't you noticed?” Celia voiced her disgust with Willow and Johnny.

“We aren't fighting. Why would you say that?” Her sister's words were fiery little insects biting at Willow's heart.

“'Cause I can tell.”

“You're wrong.” She made her way back to the house, set a chair on the veranda and shelled peas into a bowl, then prepared the beans. Thankfully, Celia took Sarah and Adam down to the foot of the yard. If she wasn't mistaken, they watched Johnny working. Willow's gaze went in that direction often, as well.

Celia was right about one thing. Willow shouldn't have invited him to share their meal, even if it was his house and his meat. She was far too aware of him. But it was too late to change her mind.

A little later, the meal ready to serve, she set the table, then turned to the mirror by the bedroom door and brushed her hair into place. Perhaps it would stay neat until the meal ended and Johnny left.

“Supper is ready,” she called out the open door, loud enough for Johnny to hear.

He lifted one hand in acknowledgment. “I'll be right there.”

The girls came inside and washed up. Willow held Adam and watched as Johnny went to the horse trough and pumped out fresh water. He removed his hat, swept a handful of water over his hair. The wet strands glistened like diamonds in the sun. He shook his head to get rid of the excess moisture, dried with a towel hung over the fence, then headed for the house.

She ducked away, not wanting him to catch her watching.

His boots echoed on the wooden floor of the veranda and then his body blocked the light from the doorway. “Sure smells good in here.”

“Willow's been cooking,” Sarah answered, even though it was quite evident.

“Please sit.” Willow indicated the plate at the end of the table. She sat at the other end, Adam on her knee, and the girls chose places across from each other. Just like a real family. Her throat tightened. “Would you ask the blessing?”

“My pleasure.” Why did everything Johnny said pull at her heart, make her want something she couldn't have?

He bowed his head and asked a simple blessing.

For a few minutes, they were busy passing food around the table.

Johnny stared at the bowls of vegetables. “Fresh peas and beans? I don't believe it.”

“I found an overgrown garden out back.”

He took a mouthful of one, then the other. “Is there anything better than food fresh from the garden?” His gaze caught hers, full of warmth and blessing.

Was she crazy? He'd made his opinion of her quite plain. And it didn't include a blessing. Nevertheless, she let herself enjoy the thought for a moment, until Adam demanded her attention.

She'd made a spicy raisin cake earlier and served it for dessert.

Johnny savored each mouthful. “Never thought I'd be enjoying a meal like this.”