Dakota Father (12 page)

She would write an advertisement for a nanny and send it for Pa to place in the paper back home. Why, there must be lots of young women seeking a way to head west. She thought of Burke and the possibilities with a young woman in residence. Well, perhaps there were some not-so-young ones looking for a chance to relocate, too.

There she went thinking only of herself again. Of course, the best thing for Meggie—and Burke—would be for him to marry. No reason her lungs should stiffen with protest.

She carefully considered the words then penned them on a separate sheet of paper before she wrote a reply to her parents.

If Dug meant to go to town again tomorrow, she would send the letter with him.

 

With no church in town, she had started having her own worship service. At first she had stayed in her bedroom and read the Bible and prayed while Meggie slept, but too soon she would be leaving this wonderful, free land. She would miss it. She couldn't think of a better place to worship God than outdoors. She didn't want to leave Meggie with Paquette so she took the child. “We're going for a walk,” she told the older woman, though she wondered if Paquette, lost in her own world, would even notice her departure. Or wonder if they never returned.

Jenny walked a distance until she felt alone, away from observation from anyone back at the ranch, and rejoiced to see a few trees that promised a bit of shade. She made her way to them. “Meggie, you play here.” She gathered some twigs that might interest the child then leaned against the trunk of a tree and opened her Bible. But she wasn't ready to read yet. Her thoughts twisted and turned.

It had been two weeks since she'd sent the letter to Ma and Pa. She hadn't told Burke her plans. Once she had some suitable applicants for him to consider, he would see the benefit of hiring a nanny. He would accept this was the best way. She couldn't stay, and
Meggie needed more care than anyone here could provide.

But try as she did, she couldn't prevent a blast of regret from sweeping through her. Someone else would take her place in caring for Meggie. And in caring for Burke.

Why must her heart be always so willful? Wanting things that were wrong, forbidden, dangerous?

Father God, forgive me for being so weak. Give me strength to face the future. To obey You through obeying my parents.

She clung to her faith, knowing God would strengthen and uphold her. Slowly, peace and resolve filled her soul. As Meggie sang a wordless tune, Jenny turned to her Bible. It opened to Isaiah chapter forty-three. She began to read. The words leapt from the page straight to her heart. “But now thus saith the Lord that created thee—”

Oh yes, God had made her. He understood her better than anyone.

She read on. “When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee; when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.”

Yes, Father God. I fear I am about to walk through the waters and the fire when I have to leave here.
Only by Your strength can I do what I know is right.

On and on she read, finding strength and comfort.

 

Burke watched Jenny and Meggie head out into the prairie. What were they doing? He thought of following them but for several days Jenny had gone out of her way to avoid him. He was at a loss to explain why. Apart from having told her she was returning to her parents and their plans for all the wrong reasons and accusing her of being afraid to act on her own behalf, he'd said and done nothing to make her pull back.

He chuckled. That was more than enough, especially for Jenny. She didn't take kindly to being called a coward in any terms.

She'd proven herself capable of running his house as Paquette continued to wander in her mind. Occasionally he caught a flash of his housekeeper's old self—sharp eyes, quick wit—but it seemed to fade as soon as it came. Lucky reported seeing her leave the ranch a few times. Burke wondered if Lucky imagined it. He'd never seen Paquette leave the veranda.

He bent over the harness he cleaned. A nice Sunday afternoon task. Until Jenny came, the ranch had paid little attention to the Sabbath. Perhaps worked a little slower as Dug and Mac rose late and bleary-eyed.

Things had shifted over the past weeks. Burke
couldn't say how or when. Only that it had something to do with Jenny. And perhaps a tiny bit to do with his prayer for help to find Paquette. Seemed to be no way he could deny God guided him that night. And if that were so, did God care about all the details of his life? He couldn't quite get his head around the idea yet but, bit by bit, he had begun to allow God into his life.

He prayed more often. Especially for Paquette's healing. For wisdom in being Meggie's guardian. And for Jenny? Every time he tried to pray for her, he came smack hard against raging conflict. He wanted her to stay. Knew she couldn't. Wouldn't. She was set on returning to this Ted fellow. But even more than that, he wouldn't ask her. If this country could destroy Paquette, what would it eventually do to Jenny? His thoughts circled endlessly on that dreadful question. He must deny his feelings for her. For her sake. Even if she were to give him any encouragement, any indication she might have changed her mind about Ted. Which she never had.

Head down, he rubbed at the leather with the saddle soap. Tried to keep his mind focused on the task. But his thoughts insisted on racing after Jenny. She'd been gone a long time. Had she gotten turned around? Lost? If it could happen to Paquette—

Shoot. He wouldn't be able to breathe easy until he was certain of her safety.

“Hey, Lucky,” he called to the man lounging in the open door of the barn. “I'm going for a walk.”

Lucky chuckled. “Saw Miss Jenny headed out. Wondered how long it would take for you to go after her.”

“I'm not—I didn't plan—” He waved one arm dismissively. “Just want to make sure she's safe.”

“Yeah, boss. You go do that.”

Lucky's chortling humor followed him down the path. He walked to the end of the trail and looked around. Saw no sign of them. Glanced at the ground. Little footprints led to the right. He jogged that direction. Climbed a slight rise. In the distance he saw a bit of white. Meggie at play close to some trees. He strained, glimpsed Jenny against one tree, sitting still. Was she hurt?

He shuddered, remembering how Flora had run into the prairie. His memory echoed with her mad screams, sending prickles up and down his spine.

It took every ounce of his will to drive the picture away. But he couldn't edge away the alarm and broke into a full-out run, crossing the prairie in great strides, gulping in dusty air.

Jenny turned at his approach. Sprang to her feet at his urgent haste.

“What's wrong? Is it Paquette?”

He reached her side, gasping air for his starved lungs. “Are you…okay?”

She knotted her eyebrows. “I'm fine. Why?”

He leaned over his knees, sucking hard to ease his breathing. As soon as he could talk without panting, he faced her. “What are you doing out here? Have you any idea how easy it is to get lost? And to bring Meggie with you? That's the height of stupidity.” His anger drove from his mouth words he knew were wrong, offensive.

Her eyes narrowed. Her mouth pursed. She tucked in her chin and looked ready to fight. Then she blinked and her expression shifted. A warm acknowledging of something sweet and precious filled her eyes.

She'd read his worry. Perhaps guessed it went further than simple concern for her safety, or Meggie's. He sucked back his feelings, pulling his impossible love behind a fortress. But she had managed to breech the walls, break down the thick logs erected to protect his heart. He should consider her intrusion a defeat. He could not. No more than he could welcome it. Nothing had changed. It could not be.

She again read his shift of thought and her eyes grew wary. “I'm not exactly a fool. I take note of my surroundings. The ranch is right over there. In fact, you can see our footsteps in the grass.”

He didn't need to look to see the evidence in the way the grass bent at each step.

“And over there is a big grove of trees. You can't see them but I see the birds rising from the branches.
And Buffalo Hollow is that way. If I look really hard I can see the top of the water tower.”

He forced his gaze away from her lest she read his surprise. How many noticed such tiny details? Only those born on the prairie or having spent many seasons learning such things. Amazing she should be so quick to take note.

But why torment himself with such things? Nothing had changed. She was going back east because no matter now astute she was about her bearings, the prairies could destroy anyone. The words echoed through his insides like the wail of a prairie storm.

He would not meet her eyes again. Instead, he sat by Meggie. “Hello, Meg peg. Whatcha doing?”

She waved a handful of twigs and chattered non-stop for two full minutes.

He chuckled softly. “I didn't understand one word.”

She nodded, seemingly content with his response.

He picked her up, tossing her in the air until she giggled. Then sat and plunked her in his lap facing him.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Ticco ticco.” She dug her little fingers into his ribs and giggled.

“You little tease.” He wrapped his arms around her and shook her until she squealed with laughter. They tumbled to the ground and rolled around tickling and laughing.

Finally spent, he sat up and pulled Meggie to his lap, holding her with her back pressed to his chest. Not ready to quit, she squirmed, trying to dig into his ribs again. When she realized he wasn't going to let her, she settled on his knees, resting her head beneath his chin.

He loved her, could pour all his love into her life. No need for anyone else to share with.

Sadness, reluctance and resignation weaved in and out of his thoughts, pulling them together so he couldn't separate one from the other.

“Are you ready to go home?” He spoke to the air in front of him, not wanting to directly address Jenny. Besides, he reminded himself sharply, the ranch wasn't her home. “We're ready.”

At least she didn't correct him.

They returned to the ranch. He left them at the veranda and escaped to the corrals where he could be alone with his useless wishes and regrets.

O
ver the next few days, Burke found plenty of excuses to be away from the ranch. He rode the entire countryside, checking on his cows and the few neighbors they had. He filled his saddlebags to stay away for several days. At least that was his plan. Seems he couldn't keep away more than one night. Told himself he needed to check on Paquette, spend time with Meggie. He'd taken to putting her to bed when he was around. He enjoyed it immensely, recalling lullabies and nursery rhymes from his childhood.

But as he returned to the ranch, it was neither Meggie nor Paquette's face he ached to see before his lungs remembered their job was to fill with air.

It wasn't until Jenny glanced up, a quick flash of awareness—that she just as quickly masked—lighting her eyes, did he feel he had come home.

How would he survive when she left? And leave
she must. Just as soon as Paquette was better. He denied he felt relief that the poor housekeeper showed very little improvement.

His plan had been to spend tonight camping out far from the ranch, but here he was riding back, anticipating the supper Jenny had prepared, Jenny sitting at his left as he ate—

Enough. He couldn't force himself to stay away, but he could refuse to let thoughts of her color every moment.

As he neared home, a buggy approached the ranch. Who could possibly be visiting? He reined in at the end of the corrals to watch.

The buggy drove up to the house, and Mr. Zach jumped down to assist someone descending—a woman in a gray traveling dress, her hair hidden by a bonnet. She paused at the steps and waited for Zach to lift down two cases. Two cases? Who was this woman? And why was she planning to park here long enough to require two cases?

He urged his mount into action and rode toward the house. Lucky stood gaping at the corral as Burke dropped to the ground. “Take my horse.”

“Yes, boss. Company?”

“'Pears so.”

“You invite someone?”

“Nope.” And seeing he was boss, no one else had the right.

The woman disappeared into the kitchen, Zach at her heels with the two bags.

Burke's jaw muscles clenched as he watched those two bags disappear inside.

“Best go see who it is,” Lucky said, sounding as if it surely meant bad news.

Burke supposed he was thinking how it had been when Flora descended on them with her whining and complaining, her snobbish ways. Jenny had been a breath of blessed relief after that disastrous visit.

He didn't expect this unannounced, uninvited visitor to be from the same refreshing breeze.

“We'll soon see what this is all about.” He strode across the yard, ignoring the steps as he jumped to the veranda and thudded around to the kitchen.

Over the shoulder of the visitor, Jenny's gaze jerked to him. Her face flooded with guilt. Whoever this was, Jenny had something to do with her presence. And he wanted an explanation.

“Burke, I'd like to introduce Miss Smythe.”

The woman turned. “Pleased to meet you, sir.” She lowered her eyes and gave a little curtsy, then gave him a look that made his mouth want to pucker.

He could hardly guess the woman's age. Her face was young, her eyes and mouth old, as if life had worn her out. The skin around her eyes seemed too tight. Likely because her hair had been pulled back so severely.

“That's Smythe with a y. I'm pleased to meet my charge's guardian.”

Paquette sat at the table. She started to mumble rapidly at the woman's brash announcement.

He didn't spare Paquette a glance. “Your charge?” He would not sputter. He shifted to study Jenny. “You know anything about this?”

“I do. Yes.”

Miss Smythe with a y cleared her throat. “I was given to understand—”

He grabbed Jenny's elbow and dragged her toward the door. “I think you better explain. In private.”

“Sir, if I may inquire—” He left poor Miss Smythe protesting to the door as it slapped shut behind Jenny. He knew a nasty sense of satisfaction when she yelped and jumped to avoid getting slammed in the back.

He didn't release her until they were ten feet from the veranda, then he faced her squarely. “Explain.”

“I didn't expect someone to just turn up.”

“That doesn't explain anything. Who is this woman and what is she doing here? With two large bags.”

“Her name is Miss Smythe. With a
y
.” Jenny flashed him a glance full of caution and pleading.

He wasn't about to let her off and made a warning noise. “Don't repeat what I already know. Why is she here?”

Jenny sighed. “It was Pa's idea.” She paused as if hoping that would be explanation enough.

He crossed his arms, signifying he wasn't satisfied.

She waggled her hands. “I don't know where to start.”

“Why is she here?”

“Pa thought I was taking too long to return so he suggested I arrange for a nanny. So I asked him to put an ad—”

“You what?”

“I arranged—” She said it so meekly he hardly recognized her voice.

“That's what I thought you said. A nanny. What do I want with a nanny?”

Her look scorched him. “I don't know what
you
want with one, but Meggie needs someone to care for her.”

Shock at her presumption gave way to a long deep ache reaching to the horizon and back. He'd been lulled into thinking she would stay until Paquette was better. Even thought she enjoyed the time at the ranch, but seems she couldn't wait to get away. “So you did this behind my back?”

“Burke.” Her voice sounded strained, as if it hurt to admit her underhanded, sneaky behavior.

As well it should.

“I didn't expect someone to just show up. I thought
I'd get some letters and I'd show them to you and discuss it.”

“You had it all figured out.”

“Except Pa chose the one he thought most suitable and sent her.” She waved a letter to indicate her father's communication on the matter.

Most suitable? Likely the only one Jenny's father could persuade to come out here. “How long do you figure she'll stay? One night of coyotes howling, one wind storm screaming around the house and—”

“I described the situation and the setting. I'm certain Pa would have checked the woman out.”

“I don't want another woman here.” The words came out sharp and bitter. “I suppose you picked someone you thought would be a suitable wife for me.”

“Pa picked her out. Not me.”

They stared hard at each other, her look pleading and regretful, his likely as accusing and angry as he felt. His heart seemed to have developed a pocket for carrying a ten-pound weight. It lay low in his chest—heavy and unresponsive. She obviously couldn't wait to leave.

He had to drag a reminder from some dark distant corner of his mind that he wanted her to go. Would insist on it, in fact. This country was not for women.

“She won't stay.”

“If she'd only stay long enough for Paquette to get better and until Meggie is a little older and doesn't need so much supervision.” Her voice echoed his doubt that either of those things would happen.

“You've overstepped your rights in doing this, but perhaps it's for the best. You need to get back to your Pa's plans for your life.” He failed to keep the unreasonable bitterness from his words. He didn't want Jenny to stay. Perhaps if he kept saying it he would eventually believe it.

He had nothing more to give. It would likely take the rest of his life for his heart to relearn how to beat solidly.

 

Jenny forced herself to smile as she explained again how to wash Meggie's clothes.

Miss Smythe—who said she preferred to be called such and refused to reveal her Christian name—scowled deeply. Jenny was convinced the woman had long ago lost the use of the muscles allowing her to smile.

She made herself stop. Knew her criticism was unfair. It was only because she envied the woman this opportunity.

If only she could stay.

Stop. Stop wishing for things that don't belong to you.
She couldn't stay. So why did it hurt to see someone who made it possible for her to leave?

Because she was—as always—given to wild, rash actions. Only this time she would not allow herself to follow her wayward heart.

Miss Smythe proved to be kind and gentle with Meggie. To her credit, after some initial shock, she had agreed to help with meal preparation until Paquette could manage on her own.

Paquette glowered constantly at this intruder—the only word she used in addressing Miss Smythe.

“She's not been well,” Jenny explained. “Once she's feeling better…” Paquette had improved enough that she often insisted on doing some of the cooking. But she spent the rest of her time in some kind of vague fog.

Miss Smythe had been on the ranch four days. Four tense days as Burke alternated between sitting at the table, glumly watching Miss Smythe try to learn the intricacies of the primitive aspects of the ranch, or gulping his meals, giving Jenny a dark look then rushing out the door like he couldn't bear to be in the same room.

Meggie had just wakened from her nap and played cheerfully with Miss Smythe. “Mith,” her name for the woman, “see beads.” She silently appealed to Paquette to be allowed to share her beads.

Paquette shook her head. “No beads. Mine.”

“Look at your dolly.” Miss Smythe wisely diverted
Meggie's attention by making the rag doll dance and sing.

It was a good time to leave them alone to see how Miss Smythe managed. And Jenny longed to wander the prairie and pack as many memories as possible into her soul. “Do you mind if I go for a walk?”

Miss Smythe looked up and grimaced. “You're going out in this wind?”

Jenny laughed. “I like it.” They'd had this conversation before. Miss Smythe refused to venture outside when the wind blew. Jenny warned her it meant she'd spend most of her days indoors.

Miss Smythe shuddered. “I don't mind.”

Jenny refrained from asking how it would affect Meggie. The child loved being outside. Burke would have to sort out the situation without her interference.

“I'll be back in an hour or so.” The wind hit her a few feet from the shelter of the house. It pushed her skirts around her legs, tugged her hair from the pins that bound it. She laughed and let it carry her along until she was a mile from the ranch. There she stood, her face to the sky, her eyes closed, and let the wind rage around her and sweep through her.

Father God, cleanse me from my wayward, sinful thoughts. Help me keep my eyes set on the path before me. Help me graciously accept the loving guidance of my parents.

She stood that way a long time seeking peace and strength. Then, her resolve firmly in place, she drank in the scenery around her, trying to memorize each detail—the way the horizon turned gray and misty, rising and falling ever so subtly, the endless sky that at first glance appeared all one color, but with closer study shifted through a range of blues. She found a grassy spot and sat down, breathing deeply of the scents—sage, something sweet and spicy—the source of which she'd never been able to locate—and teases of scented flowers. She sneezed at the pungent aroma of nearby yarrow. The minute details of the place fascinated her. Each blade of grass so unique. Tiny flowers hiding amongst the grass. God surely had created a marvelous world. Never had she been so aware of His hand.

If God so clothe the grass of the field…

He would surely give her all she needed, too. Satisfaction with her life, peace with her surroundings.

I am ready to do Your will, O my God.

She remained there a long time, soaking her senses in the beauty and allure of the prairie and finding rest in obedience to a God she loved and trusted.

Finally, reluctantly, she pushed to her feet. It was time to return. If Miss Smythe were agreeable, Jenny would leave by the end of the week. She could not deny a great ache at the thought, but she was at peace with what she must do.

The wind buffeted her on her way, forcing her to lean into the blast. She laughed and a gust stole her breath and carried the laugh across the prairie.

Oh how she would miss this bold, powerful land.

I am ready to do Your will, O God.

She reached the yard and paused at the wail the wind carried. A different sound than the usual one it made around the house. She pushed on. Suddenly she recognized the sound—Meggie screaming in terror. Jenny picked up her skirts and ran into the wind. A few feet from the house she heard another voice— Miss Smythe's, pleading and panicked.

Jenny fought her way against the wind until—gasping—she reached the shelter of the veranda. She flung open the door and took in the scene.

Meggie sat on the floor, surrounded by Paquette's beads, shuddering with her screams.

Across the room, Paquette held a mop aloft, threatening Miss Smythe who had backed into the corner, her arms over her head.

Jenny kicked the beads away from Meggie to keep her from putting one in her mouth. “Shh, Meggie, sweetie. You're fine.” She'd tend the baby as soon as she dealt with Paquette.

She approached the older woman. “Paquette, what are you doing?”

Paquette made a low guttural sound, like a wild animal growling.

“You don't want to hurt anyone.” She calmly plucked the mop from Paquette's hands and dropped it to the floor, then pulled the woman into her arms. “Oh, Paquette, what's wrong with you? What's going on in that head of yours?” She rocked until Paquette sighed and relaxed.

 

“Boss,” Lucky called into the barn. Burke was repairing a hole in the wall where Ebony had kicked in protest when Burke tried to saddle him. Crazy horse. Yet he'd seen Jenny stroking the horse and talking to it more than once when she was unaware of him watching. “Awful racket from the house.”