The Homesteader's Sweetheart (22 page)

“Are you all right?” She pulled off the hat he’d jammed back on his head when he’d seen her coming and brushed a hand through his sweat-matted hair, looking him straight in the eye so he wouldn’t be able to fib to her.

“Yes’m,” he said, eyes shining in response.

“You and Oscar did a fine job.”

He reddened under his tan. “Thanks.” Then he ducked his head. “I gotta question for you, Miss Penny. You c’n say no if ya need to.”

“What is it?” Did he want her to inform Jonas about his injury? Did he hope she could smooth things for him? If only the boy knew…

“Oscar’s real upset that I’m hurt. He don’t want me to take my turn on the bronc since I twisted my foot. And with Maxwell not able to ride on account of his broke leg…” He inhaled quickly. “It’s real important for us to win this money. For Breanna.”

His eyes pleaded with her. For understanding, or something else?

“Would ya ride instead o’ me? In my place?”

She thought she’d heard him wrong, both because it was loud with the crowd around and because he whispered.

But the pleading, hangdog look on his face—as if he expected her to say no—convinced her she hadn’t misheard.

I can’t.
The words stuck in her throat. Edgar had been the only one of Jonas’s children who hadn’t responded to her at all since she’d arrived at Walt’s and begun helping out at the White homestead. The fact he’d asked her showed his attitude about her had changed. She didn’t want to disappoint him, but…

“It wouldn’t be proper for me to ride,” she said softly, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“But you tried to help Oscar break that filly. And we all saw you ride the day the cattle got loose. You’re even better than Oscar. Pa said so himself. You’re the only chance we have to win!”

“Yes, but that was different. That was to help your family.” She motioned her hand to encompass the crowd around them. “Look how many people are here.”

Though the women in the crowd might not dress as fancy as her mama, she knew it would cause a stir if she rode in a men’s competition. Word might even get back to her father in Calvin.

“It’s not proper,” she repeated, trying to convince herself.

Edgar’s disappointment was palpable. His shoulders slumped, chin lowered to bump his chest. “It’s all right.”

She hated disappointing him. Knew how much the boys wanted to win some prize money and use it to help Jonas. The same man who’d instilled the courage in them that they needed to do it.

The same man who’d taught her what it meant to open her heart. And that real love made sacrifices.

And she loved these boys. She couldn’t let them down.

“Wait!” she called out, reaching for Edgar as he shuffled away. “I’ll do it.”

“Really?” He gaped at her, eyes taking on a shine.

She looked down at the calico dress she wore. “But I won’t be able to stay on long dressed like this.”

“You can wear my pants and shirt. I’m wearing my long underwear. Thought it might give me some extry padding in case I fell off the bronc.” He spoke quickly in his rising excitement. “There’s a changing room in the general store. But you gotta hurry!”

Chapter Twenty-One

S
he shouldn’t be doing this.

Of all the things Penny had ever regretted because of her impulsiveness, this decision topped the list.

She couldn’t stop shaking as she waited outside the arena, Oscar at her side. She kept her head down, hoping no one could tell there was a woman hiding under Edgar’s shirt and trousers. She’d tucked her braid up into the hat, praying it wouldn’t be knocked off during her ride.

She felt sick.

For Breanna,
she reminded herself silently.

Oscar’s turn came and he left her with a final squeeze of her hand. She focused on her boots, unable to watch him ride the bucking horse while knowing she would be next.

The crowd went wild during Oscar’s ride, cheering and clapping. Perhaps he’d done well and she didn’t have to ride, after all—

And then a shove to the middle of her back sent her reeling up to the prep stall and she was boosted onto the back of a sweating, snorting animal.

“I can’t—” She started to gasp, but a grinning, snaggle-toothed cowboy slapped her on the shoulder.

“Have fun, young’un.”

“But—”

She swallowed her words as the gate swung open.

For Jonas.

Penny forgot about showmanship and everything else as she clung to the animal’s back. The bronco bucked and see-sawed, whirled and wheeled. She thought once that all four of its feet left the ground.

All she could think about was those feet landing on
her
if she fell off.

* * *

“That’s not Edgar,” Maxwell murmured as the rider took to the ring.

Jonas squinted in the midday sunlight, trying to see the rider’s features while the animal bucked wildly. Maxwell was right. The figure was too slight, too pale to be his third-oldest son.

“Look at Edgar go!” Breanna cheered from Jonas’s other side. The side that felt Penny’s conspicuous absence.

“It’s Miss Penny.” Maxwell breathed the words.

“What?” Was that his voice, sounding strangled? It couldn’t be her.

But it was. He caught a flash of copper hair beneath Edgar’s hat, caught a flash of those piercing blue eyes he would know anywhere.

“What is she
thinking?
”

“Shh,” Max shushed him absently, absorbed in watching Penny’s ride. “Don’t let Breanna hear,” he added.

Probably a good idea.

“Whoohoo!” Ricky shouted from Maxwell’s other side. “Ride ‘em, Ed!”

“What is she
doing?
” Jonas mumbled, heart in his throat as Penny almost took a spill. By some miracle, she managed to stay on the horse’s back.

The crowd roared.

“She’s riding.”

He could see that, with eyes that would never forget the sight of her clinging to the back of that monstrously large animal.

What he didn’t understand was why. Why would she do such a thing? Such an
improper
thing? This was the same woman who’d been ashamed to wear a simple calico dress to church, because it wasn’t fancy enough for her tastes. Who couldn’t cook a lick and could barely gather eggs. Prim and proper Penny Castlerock was riding a bronc.

Why would she do this?

Jonas watched with bated breath as Penny’s ride finished, the horse finally settling after several heart-pounding minutes. The crowd went wild. It was the longest, most action-filled ride so far. There weren’t many riders left.

He couldn’t wait for the other rides. He had to see Penny now.

He needed to see for himself that she was all right. He stood, receiving an angry grunt from the person behind him, and began edging his way over his children, who were riveted to the next rider in the arena.

“I’m going to go,” he coughed, “check on the boys.”

* * *

Penny braced her palms on her wobbly knees as she tried to catch her breath. Oscar and Edgar hopped and hooted around her.

“I think you won!” Edgar cheered.

“She did,” Oscar echoed. “There’s only two more riders and they don’t look so good.”

“Shh.” She shushed them. The last thing she needed was for anyone to recognize that she was female. Or worse, to recognize her. She was half-afraid that her grandfather had seen her face while she’d been in the arena.

“What were you
thinking?
” A familiar voice hissed.

Penny looked up from her bent position, right into Jonas’s furious face.

“You could’ve been
killed!
”

The crowd cheered again. One more rider finished. One left.

Jonas grasped her upper arms and pulled her upright, where she couldn’t avoid looking him right in the face.

“Edgar needed me,” she whispered.

“What if you’d fallen—”

The boys’ whooping and hollering interrupted him. Edgar chattered at his father about his ankle getting twisted while Oscar pumped both fists in the air.

“That was the last rider,” Oscar crowed.

Someone shouted that “Edgar” had won the bronc-riding contest. Penny was still caught in Jonas’s intense gaze, but she was pulled away and pushed onto a platform, presented with a heavy, fancy saddle and a wad of cash. She waved to the crowd, everything a blur until she got off that platform and was surrounded by Oscar, Edgar and Jonas once again.

Oscar relieved her of the saddle that tilted her awkwardly to one side.

She shoved the pile of cash at Jonas. “This is for you.”

He recoiled, shaking his head. “You rode. It’s your money.”

“I’m giving it to you.”

His brows furrowed and a look of suspicion crossed his features.

“Take it.” She picked up his broad hand and placed the stack of bills in his palm, forcing his fingers to close over it. “It’s for Breanna. Because I love her.”
And I love you, too.
A sudden lump in her throat kept the words from emerging. He wouldn’t want to hear them, anyway.

“Whoohoo!” A familiar young voice cheered. Over Jonas’s shoulder, Penny saw the rest of his family approaching.

“I need to go change back into my clothes.”

Penny started to move away from Jonas when a cold hand clamped onto her shoulder. A hulking shadow fell over her.

“I can’t believe what I’ve just seen.”

She knew that angry, terse voice.

“F-Father?” Penny looked up into her father’s furious, purpling face. Standing right behind him was Mr. Abbott, whose weasely features were set in a look of satisfaction.

“Your mother assured me that you would be safe with your grandfather, but
this
is what I find?”

At the same moment, her grandfather and the boys and Breanna swarmed around them, oblivious to Penny’s turmoil. She could feel Jonas watching her but he made no move to step between her and her father.

“What did you think you were doing? You’ve humiliated yourself in front of all these people—”

“She was helping us. We needed the money for Breanna,” Edgar explained from Penny’s elbow.

Sam and Maxwell stepped closer at the same moment, their shoulders nearly touching, forming a wall of solidarity for her, though they didn’t say anything.

Her father glanced over the gathered group, and Penny saw them as she would have in the beginning: worn but clean clothes, some of the boys’ faces unwashed, a group that didn’t look as if it belonged together.

But now that she knew them, she knew the love that held their family together, the work they’d done together. All because of Jonas and his honor. That was how she wanted her father to see them, but would he listen to her?

“I’m certain you
do
need the money,” Mr. Abbott said snidely, turning toward Penny’s father and away from the Whites, as if to dismiss them. As if they were beneath his notice.

“Father, the Whites are not only Grandfather’s neighbors, but his friends, and mine as well. They’ve helped Sam and me get Grandfather’s place back in shape.”

“I don’t care what they’ve done; that is not the issue here. The issue is that you have brought shame on your family—”

“Now, George, I don’t think you need to take that tone with the girl—”

“Stay out of this, old man,” her father interrupted her grandfather. “This is not your concern, not after you let my daughter humiliate herself.”

“He didn’t
allow
Penny to do anything,” Jonas interrupted, taking up for him. The scorn in his voice brought tears to her eyes, though. “She does what she wants.”

Her father turned on him, too. “I’ll thank you to stay out of this. This is not your affair.”

“Father—” Sam started, but quieted when his father sent him a scathing glance.

Mr. Abbott moved closer to Penny, partially blocking her view of Jonas and his family. “Perhaps you should advise your farmhand to stay out of this.” His voice was a near whisper and with his back to the group, Penny doubted anyone else could hear him. She started to move away, but his next words froze her in place. “I would hate for anyone else to
get hurt
or for any more
disasters
to befall him or his family.”

An awful suspicion took root. Penny scrutinized his hateful countenance. “You started the fire in Jonas’s fields. And the rest of it.”

He didn’t deny it; an ugly, prideful smile spread across his face. Penny hated him more than ever.

“How could you do such a thing? Father—”

She started to turn to her father, but Abbott’s pinching grip on her forearm caught the words in her throat.

“If you want to ensure nothing else happens to them, you’d better accompany your father and me back to Calvin.”

The soft-spoken threat curdled her stomach. She glanced at her father to see if he’d heard, but he was barking at her grandfather again. She would refuse. Abbott couldn’t force her to go with them, not in such a big crowd.

But then she imagined Breanna, little innocent Breanna, injured at Abbott’s hand, and she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t risk them.

“—believe what you want, Walt, but my daughter is coming home with me this instant.” Her father turned and the thunderous expression on his face almost made Penny cringe.

Her conversation with Jonas flashed through her memory. This was her moment. She loved Jonas and she loved his family. Without a doubt, she loved them. She wanted to tell her father that she was staying.

But one look at Jonas’s closed face and the memory of how he’d turned her away was just as strong.

She wanted to stay, but if she did, would he forgive her for writing to the Broadhursts?

She knew it was impossible to get a moment alone with Jonas, but if she could just see a hint of reassurance in his face. “Jonas—”

The pressure of Abbott’s hand on her elbow increased and she turned to him briefly. “Release me at once,” she ordered.

He did, but when she turned back, Jonas’s face was tilted away.

“Penelope, enough. We’re going home. Sam, come along.”

How could she refuse? If only Jonas would glance at her and she could determine his feelings…

But it was not to be. “I’m sorry,” she said, rounding on her grandfather and embracing him tightly. “I’ve got to return with my father.”

Her grandfather’s withered arm came around her. “I’ll miss you, girl.”

With her chin still tucked against her grandfather’s shoulder, she addressed Jonas. “Will you see that he gets home?”

He nodded, expression closed off as if he’d already dismissed her. “I’ll take care of him.”

She knew that he meant for more than just the ride back to her grandfather’s homestead. Jonas would watch out for him.

Just like he did for all those around him—the children, even her.

But no one could get her out of this mess except herself.