Brides of Idaho (47 page)

“And if they aren’t, tell us you’re not going to change your mind.” Glory wouldn’t let it go.

“I’m not going to change my mind.” After all, she was not the kind of person who said one thing and did another.

Mr. Tisdale appeared at breakfast and seemed to enjoy the meal. Joanna watched for some signal from him, but he never once met her look. Determined to learn what he’d decided, she waited for him to finish.

He didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave as he engaged in an animated discussion with the man next to him. She caught enough of what was said to know they talked of the gold discovery to the north.

Almost everyone had departed when the pair got to their feet. Joanna rose, too. “Mr. Tisdale, may we talk?”

He nodded and told the other man, “I’ll join you shortly.”

“I’m wondering what you’ve decided about my place.” She kept her voice calm, though her insides churned. So much depended on his offer. She had a bottom line, but there was still a lot of room to haggle about the price. She wanted enough money to be able to go to California, enjoy herself, and start a new business venture somewhere.

He twisted his cap. “This place is fancier than what I expected. I read some dime novels and thought all I’d need to serve is beans and bannock. I practiced them both until they’re passable, but that’s all I can cook.”

“I’m sure it will be most acceptable. Most of these men only care about getting enough food in their stomachs to get them through the next day.”

“It’s not what I expected. I hear there is gold for the plucking in the Kootenais. I’ve decided to head north. I expect I can make a fortune without having to work so hard.”

“You’ve changed your mind?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.” He donned his hat and left.

Unable to think, she stared after him. She never considered this possibility. He’d been so eager in their correspondence.

“Joanna?”

Rudy’s voice jerked her from her stunned state.

“I couldn’t help but overhear. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

For the life of her she couldn’t form a word. Barely a thought. She hurried into the kitchen and stared at the stack of dirty dishes Cora scrubbed.

Cora dried her hands and came to Joanna’s side. “I heard, too. Are you okay?”

Her brain kicked into gear. “I’ll simply have to find another buyer.” She took a wet rag and returned to the dining room to scrub the table. Round and round her hands went. She couldn’t seem to stop.

Rudy reached out and took the rag from her hands. He gently pushed her to the bench and sat beside her. “You’ll find someone else.”

She faced him, her eyes burning with emotions she couldn’t name. “So he didn’t keep his word. Why should I be surprised? You’d think I’d be used to it by now.”

He searched her gaze, perhaps seeing more than she intended. The way she’d unburdened her heart to him last night, he likely thought he had the right to see more than she wanted him to. He took her hands and held them between his. “Joanna, there are people you can trust and count on. You have to believe it.”

“Do I? Do I have to believe it? Seems to me that’s a rather foolish thing to do unless you enjoy having the rug pulled out from under you time and again. I’d think you’d know that as well as I.” She clamped her lips in a tight line to control the quaver in her voice.

He didn’t blink. Didn’t shrink from her anger. Instead, his gaze held steady as if silently promising he would be different.

Pshaw. As if she should believe that. “You’re just the same. Can’t wait to return to your footloose, fancy-free ways.” She managed to get her feet under her and escaped to her bedroom, closing the door tight.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clenched together. Why had she counted so much on Mr. Tisdale’s offer? Nothing was for certain until she had his name on a bill of sale and his money in her palm. But he’d been so sure. She’d trusted his words.

How many times did she have to repeat the same lesson?

Was she really so mentally slow?

She stared at her white knuckles and released her clasped hands, smoothing her damp palms on her split skirt. Seeing her mother’s Bible, she opened it seeking comfort, guidance… sanity.

She found them all as she read familiar passages, hearing her mother’s gentle voice in the words. Her fingers turned the pages to Numbers 23:19. “God is not a man, that he should lie; neither the son of man, that he should repent: hath he said, and shall he not do it?”

She knew the verse by heart, but reading it strengthened her resolve. To her sorrow and pain she knew she could not trust man, but she was learning she could depend on God.

Finally she was able to pray.
God, I don’t understand.
She had nothing more to say or ask. Except…
Help me find another buyer.

Soon.
It would have to be soon. Sarah had warned her they wouldn’t be able to cross the mountains once the passes filled with snow.

A few minutes later she left the room with two letters in her hand—one to Sarah explaining what happened and asking if she would mind delaying her trip.
I’ll understand if you feel you can’t.
The second letter would go to another man who’d expressed interest in buying the stopping house. Originally Joanna had informed him someone else had made an offer. Now she wrote that the place was again on the market if he was interested. The rest was up to God.

Rudy turned from the dishpan, water dripping from his fingers. It crossed her mind that God might have a reason for this delay, for it allowed her time to work with Rudy and Freddy and perhaps help them learn to be friends. And perhaps there was another reason. She recalled Rudy’s confession that he didn’t think much about God anymore.

God, help me help them.

Rudy turned as the door opened. Joanna stepped out, her expression settled, perhaps even serene. Her shock had fled. Tension had made him aware of each breath, but now Rudy’s ribs eased. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Thanks.” She glanced around and took in Rudy’s shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows, the water glistening on his hands. Her gaze flicked toward Freddy, who held a bowl he’d been drying. Seems he had forgotten about it as he watched Joanna. Cora had explained to him why Joanna was disappointed.

“Where’s Cora?”

“She had an errand. I said we’d take care of the dishes. Freddy is drying. I’m washing.”

Freddy, eager to please Joanna, nodded. “We’re almost done.”

“Thank you. I’ll be with you in a bit. First I want to take these letters to be posted.” She hurried from the house.

Freddy and Rudy both watched out the window as she rushed along the trail toward the combined mercantile and post office.

Freddy continued to look long after she’d disappeared from sight, his face puckered.

“She’ll be back,” Rudy said. “We better get the dishes cleaned up before she does.”

“Why’s she selling this place?”

“She wants to go to California with her friend.”

Freddy scowled. “Why does everyone want to leave?”

The question struck a note of misery in Rudy’s heart. It echoed Joanna’s hurts. But leaving wasn’t the same as being unfaithful or untrustworthy. Freddy needed to understand this as much as Joanna did. “Sometimes a person doesn’t have any choice. Or there are very good reasons for moving on. If you think about it, this place is the result of someone leaving and moving to a new home.”

Freddy glanced around. “I guess.” He picked up the next dish to dry it. “But I wish she would keep living here so I could stay with her.”

Had he purposely left Rudy out of the picture? Did he expect Rudy would leave him behind? Not that it hadn’t crossed his mind. The boy would be better off with someone who could provide a proper home. But he didn’t want Freddy to think Rudy’s leaving was inevitable. “Seems you and me are going to be together from now on.”

Freddy’s expression shifted to one far too familiar—angry, defensive, shutting out Rudy. “You can leave if you want. I’ll be okay on my own.”

A dozen different arguments sprang to Rudy’s mind, but he suspected anything he said would be met with increasing anger, so he let it go. “Joanna has asked us to help her for a few days.”

“Then what?” The words were spoken as a challenge, but Rudy figured they revealed Freddy’s fear. Thanks to Joanna’s words last night up on the hill, he was beginning to understand how uncertainty could upset the boy. Freddy needed to know that Rudy would stand by him.

Rudy looked Freddy in the eye. “Then we’ll figure out what’s next.” Would Freddy take comfort in the words?

Freddy perked up, all interest in Rudy gone.

Rudy followed his gaze out the window and grinned. Joanna was on her way back. She swung her arms as she walked, looking happy with her world.

“She’s smiling,” Freddy announced.

“Yup. She sure is.”

“Guess she’s not mad.”

She stepped into the room, giving them both a beaming smile.

Rudy forgot how to swallow.

Freddy looked like someone had handed him a sweet. “I told you she wasn’t mad.”

“I figure Joanna never stays mad longer than a minute.”

Joanna raised her eyebrows. “You two been talking about me behind my back?”

“Yup.” Rudy couldn’t contain his grin.

Freddy seemed surprised. “Grandma used to be mad for days.”

“I remember that.”

Joanna chuckled. “You look like a matching pair. Both smiling while sounding morose and sad. How do you do that?”

“Special skill known only to the Canfield men. Isn’t that right, Freddy?”

“Yup.” He sounded so much like Rudy that Rudy laughed. As did Joanna. Something warm and sweet seemed to fill the air.

Rudy realized how long he’d been grinning at Joanna and jerked back to the dishpan. But the dishes had all been washed. He went to the door and tossed the water into the nearby trees.

Joanna sprang into action at the same time. “Freddy, would you take these scraps out to the cat?”

Freddy took the container. “What’s the cat’s name?”

“Cat. That’s all.”

“How come?”

Joanna kept her attention on something beyond Freddy’s shoulder. “Cat doesn’t need a name.”

Freddy headed outside. “I’m going to name him.”

Rudy waited until the door closed behind the boy. “So you don’t name cats. Why? Don’t want to get too attached to them?”

She made a great show of putting away dishes. “Don’t go making something out of nothing.”

Except he suspected it was something. “You don’t trust cats not to leave either.”

She ignored him. So, he had guessed right. He waited and watched. Finally she stopped all her frantic scurrying about and faced him, her expression revealing nothing. “I guess if I’m to stay a bit longer I’ll need some wood split. Maybe you could do that.”

“Glad to.” He headed for the door. “What are you going to do about the stopping house?”

“I’ve sent a letter to another man who expressed interest after Mr. Tisdale. This other man has a wife. Maybe it would work better for a married couple.”

“So you’re still planning to leave?”

“Why?”

“Freddy was hoping you’d stay.”

“Why would it matter to Freddy?”

He’d said more than he should. Told himself it was about Freddy, but Freddy couldn’t stay if Rudy didn’t.

She stared at him so hard her eyes narrowed. “You better not be thinking of riding away and leaving him here.”

His heart ached for her. And for him. To her he was simply another man who would likely make promises and then break them. “I was thinking just the opposite, but you will never trust a man, will you?”

“I’ve never had much reason to.”

He crossed his arms. “Maybe it’s time to change your mind.”

She shook her head, half turned away then spun back to face him. “What do you mean, you were thinking the opposite?”

He’d been thinking he might be wanting to stay, settle down even. But if she couldn’t figure that out, he wasn’t going to tell her. “You and I are far too much alike.” Both so mistrustful of the opposite sex.

Before she could demand an explanation, he left to tackle the woodpile as he’d promised.

He wished he could undo all the disappointments Joanna’s pa and likely a dozen other men had dished out to her. He wished he could be what she needed. But he wasn’t. He was virtually homeless, which, until now, had been just fine. Now his situation simply made him realize how little he had to offer anyone like Freddy. And if his regrets also brought Joanna to mind… Well, what difference did it make? He was the last thing she needed.