Chasing Clovers (30 page)

Coming out from behind her horse,
she smiled weakly and waited for him to dismount.

"
Mornin', ma'am," he drawled, as he took off his hat and smacked at the dust on his pants.

"
Hello, Clive."

"
How're you doin'?" he asked, as he looked with concern at her sore knee.

She
glanced down at her injured and pulsing limb. It hurt like hell, and she had been favoring it ever since her fall last night.

"
I've come to take you back to the ranch," Clive smiled at her.

Livy's heart leapt with joy and she peered around Clive to see if John was there.

"
He couldn't come," Clive's eyes shifted, and he stared at the ground, "he sent me instead."

Her eyes stung with unshed tears, and her mouth went dry. She tried to swallow past her disappointment. "Oh, I see."

"
Livy," Clive sounded desperate, and she wished again it was John who stood in front of her now. "He needs to talk to you." Reaching for her horse's reins, Clive gave them a tug.

She
placed her hand on top of his gloved one. "Did he say that he loved me?" she asked, hopeful for the first time since she'd left the ranch.

Clive slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry, Livy."

Although she hadn't been surprised, Clive's answer sliced through her like a sharp knife. Her wounded ego was nothing compared to the sheer agony she felt deep within her soul.

"
I can't, Clive," she whispered.

It killed her not to be able to see Ben and
Emily, not to see John, but she was through sacrificing her soul for a sliver of happiness. She knew she was being selfish, but she refused to run back to John without hearing those three words directly from him.
And you never will.

Clive nodded he understood. "Well, at least let me accompany you into town."

She
appreciated his kindness, but she wanted to be alone. Riding into town with Clive may cause her to change her mind and race back to the ranch and to John. "No thanks. I'll head in myself."

"
You sure?"

"
Yes, just show me which way."

H
e lifted a gloved hand and pointed east, ""Head straight that way, it'll take you into town."

Clive stared at her, and the pity she saw on his face made her cringe. She didn't want his pity. She deserved what had happened to her. She'd lied to John and his family and now she had to suffer the consequences. Livy didn't think her heart could withstand any more pain as she threw one leg up onto her horse.

Trying to stay strong, but feeling as if she
'd crumble at any moment, she whispered, "Take care, Clive."

The horse trotted away, and
she wiped at the tears flowing down her face. Her heart longed for John, her soul desperate to have a home―to belong. The realization of the past few days hit her like a ton of bricks. She'd never belong with John, and she'd never see the ranch again.
He doesn't love you. He never will. Everything you've ever wanted is gone, once again.
Hanging her head, she wept even harder.

An hour into the
ride, her back ached and her knee pulsated with every step the horse took. After jumping from the window it hadn't felt the same, and she needed to ice the aching limb. Her knee was still swelling, and if it got any bigger she wouldn't be able to walk on it.

She took a deep breath. Having to tell Clive that she wouldn
't return with him broke her in two. Defeated and exhausted she rode in the direction he had told her. The outline of Fort Calgary came into view after she'd come over the hill, and she breathed a sigh of relief. With no money, and nothing but the clothes on her back, she had already made the harrowing decision as to where she'd head first. Her stomach was in knots and her heart hammered in her chest, knowing what she was about to do.

The horse walked
at a slow, steady pace into town. She figured it to be past noon the way people littered the streets. Averting her eyes, and wishing she'd thought to grab a hat, she tipped her head down, not wanting anyone to see her face. She was sure her red-rimmed eyes and uncombed hair looked frightful. The smell of baked bread hung in the air, and her stomach growled in protest. She hadn't eaten anything since yesterday.

Men and women
walked the wooden boardwalks, and children scampered about yelling. She rubbed her chest to ease the wrenching pain that struck when she thought of Ben and Emily. She guided the horse straight for the saloon she'd seen when she had arrived in Calgary a month ago.

She swung her leg over the animal
's back and bit her lower lip when she stepped onto the ground. Moving slowly, her body sore, she tied the horse's reins around the hitching post in front of the rundown bar.

"
Thanks for getting me here, old girl," she said, patting the horse's side. She inhaled a deep breath and marched up the steps. She could feel the stares from the townspeople boring into her back as she pushed through the swinging doors.

The saloon
was like all the other ones she'd been in. The uneven floor was splattered with bits of sawdust and cigarette butts left over from the night before. Tables were strewn with empty glasses and bottles of whiskey, and the musty scent of stale bodies and vile women hung in the air.

Trying hard not to gag, she
headed straight for the man behind the bar. Her knee felt like it was about to explode, so she tried not to put too much pressure on her leg as she limped her way toward the bartender. Ignoring the looks from the men seated at the tables, she kept her eyes forward.

"
Can I help you?" the man behind the long bar asked, glancing at her as if she were lost.

Straightening, Livy said, "I've come for a job."

She
'd done this before, and loathed having to do it again. You had to be tough when you entered a bar. Had to show them nothing bothered you, that you could handle anything. And so, she pushed all her emotions from the last few days deep down inside of her, and took on a stern, confident air.

The bartender
's eyes roamed over her attire, and she knew what he was thinking. "I don't need any more women workin' for me," he said, spitting into the glass he'd been holding before wiping it out with a dirty yellow cloth.

"
I haven't come for that kind of job."

The man chuckled as he placed the glass down and picked up another one. "Well, what kind of job have you come for then?"

"
I sing." Her voice sure, she stared straight into his eyes.

"
Sing?" he echoed. "Look, lady, why don't you head on over to the church. They have a choir. I'm sure you could sing there." Dismissing her, he continued cleaning the glass.

"
That's not the kind of music I sing," she said, determined.

He glanced
at her again, and his blue eyes looked her up and down. "What kind of music do you sing?"

Livy needed this position, she needed to get enough money to leave, and she wasn't about to be pushed around by some low-life. "Look," she snapped, coming up to her full height, "I'm not here to play games with you. I know how to sing. And I know what to sing to fill your saloon with men and your cash box with money." She leaned over the bar so the man could hear her. "I've come for a job. Now if you can't find a spot for me to sing, I'll head over to the other saloon."

"
You think you're that good, honey?" The bartender said. "What makes you so sure that you'll fill this place?"

She
shrugged. "Hire me for one week, and you'll see if I'm tellin' ya the truth or not."

The man was quiet for a moment
. "Fine. You have one week. But you're gonna have to find somethin' else to wear other than that," he said, pointing to her torn and stained dress.

Livy hadn't thought about what she'd wear. "I have nothing else."

"
One of the girls might have somethin' that'll fit ya." He waved at one of the woman lounging beside a table.

"
There's one more thing," she mumbled, hating to have to say the words, and hating the fact that she was even back inside a saloon. "I have nowhere to stay."

He glared at her.

"
You can stay in one of the rooms upstairs, but it'll cost ya, and if you don't fill this place like you said, you're gone."

Relieved, she shook his hand in agreement.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

"
John." Clive nudged him. "John."

He
opened his eyes and yawned. Sitting upright, he glanced around Clive. "Where's Livy?"

"
She wouldn't come back."

He
closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath. "Did you tell her I needed to talk with her?"

"
I did."

He
sat silent.
Why didn't she come back?
He grew angry all over again. What a fool he'd been to think he could talk with her. She'd deserted them, him and his children―his
sick
children. She'd up and left without a care, without giving him a chance to explain. Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair.

"
Well, she's made her decision," he growled.

"
John."

"
Save it. I don't want to hear it."

"
She saved Ben and Emily."

He stared at Clive.

"
I was sleepin' on the couch when the fire started. Livy and the kids were upstairs. The flames spread so fast that by the time I woke up, the whole kitchen was blazin'. I tried to get to the stairs, but they were already on fire. The house was heavy with smoke, and I couldn't catch my breath, so I ran out the front door." Closing his eyes, Clive continued. "The men must've smelt the fire, because by the time I'd caught my breath, they were throwing buckets of water onto the house.

"
How did they escape?" he asked, as he pictured Livy frantically trying to save his children.

"
I was runnin' from window to window, to see if I could see them, when I saw Livy leaning out her bedroom window, and screaming for help. She had the kids, must've gone and woke them," he said.

"
How did they get out?"

"
She had no choice but to drop them one by one, until it was her turn to jump." Clive hesitated. "She, uh, she reinjured her knee, judgin' by the way she was favorin' it. But once she'd coughed a few times, she was up and runnin' toward the children, makin' sure they were all right."

He
stared at his foreman. "I know what you're doin'," he said, "and it doesn't change anything." Livy didn't want to come back and let him apologize, and he pushed any feelings he had for her to the side.

"
And what exactly is that?"

"
I am grateful she saved Ben and Emily, but she still lied to me. She still betrayed me."

"
So you're still mad, are ya?"

"
Why wouldn't I be?" He shot back. "She wouldn't even come back so we could talk."

Getting up, Clive glared at him. "Maybe she didn't want me to go and get her, maybe she wanted you to."

He
moved away from Clive, dismissing him. "She's made her decision, like I said."

"
She saved your children John, risked her life for them…"

"
I heard ya the first time."

"
If that doesn't warrant some kind of forgiveness, then I don't know what does." Clive rammed his hat down onto his head, and flexed his jaw.

He
watched his friend walk away. He let Clive's words sink in. Regret gnawed at the corners of his heart, eating away the barrier he'd placed so carefully around it. He'd acted like an ass―again. Blowing out a frustrated breath, he didn't know how to fix the mess he'd made. And if the truth were to be told, he didn't know if he had enough strength left to try. Ben stretched, waking beside him, and he turned his attention to his son.

"
Papa?" Ben said, his throat sounding dry.

He
grabbed the cup of water beside him, and handed it to his son so he could take a sip. "Better now?" he asked, after Ben had swallowed the cool liquid.

"
How's Em?" he asked, glancing down at his sister.

"
She's feelin' better son." Staring at Ben's hair―messy and full of white ash―he felt a stab in his heart. He'd almost lost him.

Looking around the ranch, Ben asked, "Where's Miss Livy?"

He
cleared his throat before answering his son. "She's gone."

"
Gone where?"