Dakota Father (6 page)

He strode to the barn, leaving the men to follow his orders. In the dark interior he could think of nothing he came for. The cow was out grazing, the cats had finished their milk and sat washing themselves in patches of sunlight.

“Jenny's waiting for you,” Lucky called, his voice carefully neutral but Burke heard the men chuckling before they dispersed. Let them get as much fun out of this as they could. Not that he could stop them if he tried.

He scrubbed his hands on the thighs of his jeans and adjusted his hat then strode toward the house. This was only about Meggie. He needed to keep reminding himself.

He paused at the bottom of the steps and carefully kept his gaze on his niece. “What would you like to see first? The cats or the horses?” The mounts in the nearby corrals were used to people and posed no danger.

“Kitties?” Meggie sounded cautiously eager.

“Scads of 'em. Come along.” He straightened and finally allowed himself to face Jenny. Her eager expression almost undid all his harsh self-talk. Oh to see that eagerness every morning, to share it about the ranch. Whoa. Stop right there. This was about Meggie, not him.

He stepped aside and waited for Jenny to descend. Meggie skipped along at their side as they headed for the barn.

“Tell me about your ranch,” Jenny said.

Her words caught him off guard, left him struggling to find an answer. “We raise cows and horses,” he said tentatively, not knowing if she wanted any more information.

“Your animals range free?”

“To some extent. Most of the ranchers let the animals roam, but with more and more settlers things are changing.” He had his own ideas of how things should be done. “Most ranchers let their animals graze during the winter, too, but I think it's too risky.”

“Why?”

Her eyes brimmed with interest and he willingly told her how he considered the risks of having them unable to find enough to eat if they should get a lot of snow. “Cows can't dig through the snow like horses or buffalo. I prefer to contain them closer to home and have hay ready to take out if there's a need.”

“That's very forward thinking of you. How do the other ranchers react?”

How did she guess there were mixed feelings about the way he did things? “Some think I'm overly cautious. Survival of the fittest, they say, produces the strongest cows.”

“I suppose there's something to be said for that, but still, cows are not created to survive certain elements.”

He realized they had stopped walking and stood talking intently. For his part, he was lost in the interest and knowledge she showed.

Meggie had paused to examine a bug crossing their path.

“Let's see if the kitties are still around.”

They reached the barn. Most of the cats had disappeared but the old mama cat still lay in the sun, enjoying her rest from her newly weaned kittens. This old cat was the tamest of the bunch, having been around since Burke first arrived, and having learned humans meant warm milk and a gentle rub behind her ears.

“Go slow, little Meg,” he warned.

Meggie, who'd been about to pounce on the unsuspecting cat, stopped.

Jenny caught Meggie's hand and knelt at her side. “Let her get used to us first. After all, we're brand new here.”

Good advice for befriending both human and animal.

Jenny held her hand out to the cat and called softly.

Old mama meowed but didn't move.

“She's lazy. Or maybe wore out. Just raised a bunch of kittens.”

“Kitties?” Meggie looked around expectantly.

Burke laughed. “Three of them went to neighbors. The other two are wild. You wouldn't want to hold them.” He wished now that there were tiny kittens available but he knew of none.

Meggie turned back to the mama kitty. Squatting down she jiggled forward in a funny little frog walk.

Burke grinned.

Meggie reached the cat and touched it with one finger. The cat meowed and purred, obviously glad for the attention.

Meggie plunked to her bottom and the cat wrapped paws about her leg. The little one giggled. Soon the two were busy being friends.

Jenny stood back at Burke's side. “This is good for her. There's something about pets that eases sorrow.”

“Maybe I should get myself a new dog.” He wanted to groan at the way he sounded, as if he had so much sorrow to deal with.

“I thought it strange there was no dog. Don't all ranches have one?”

“Mine died a few months ago.”

“I'm sorry. How'd it happen?”

“Don't know. Just found him dead one morning.”
Suddenly he remembered things he'd ignored. Old Boy had gone missing after one of Flora's visits. They found him dead out past the barn a day later. He looked a little beat up. They'd suspected coyotes. But knowing what he did about Flora now, he wondered—

Nah. She would never hurt the dog. Had no reason to.

“We lost a dog when I was about twelve. He and I were best friends. I told him all my secrets. Never loved another quite so much.” She gave a little laugh. “Guess I outgrew pet friends.”

He wanted to ask what kind of friends she had now. Was there a special someone in her life? But her life was none of his business. They would soon say their good-byes and never see each other again. He would not acknowledge any discomfort at the idea.

Something caught the cat's attention and she raced off, leaving Meggie teary eyed.

He reached for her hand. “Let's go see the horses.”

Meggie studied the outreached hand for several seconds then slipped hers into his. So small. So soft. Made him feel ten feet tall that she trusted him enough to do this.

Jenny, at his other side, touched his arm, sending jolts of warmth to his heart. He could get used to
this—a child at one side, a woman at the other. He ground his teeth at such foolishness.

“This is a big step for her,” Jenny whispered.

“I know.” Surely the hoarseness of his voice was due to the fact Meggie had taken his hand, not because Jenny had touched him. But deep in the recesses of his mind he couldn't deny one meant as much as the other.

He led them from the barn to the pasture fence and whistled. The half dozen horses still at home lifted their heads and trotted toward him.

“Me touch,” Meggie begged as the horses crowded around.

“I'll lift you.” She made no protest as he did, and love for this little gal filled him. He wanted to hug her but didn't for fear of frightening her. He felt Jenny watching him and met her gaze. Her eyes filled with warmth and love—for Meggie, of course. But something real and alive passed between them, a mixture of pleasure and pain. He didn't try and sort out the source of each but the reasons came anyway. Pleasure at sharing love of this tiny child, pain at knowing he would only share it with Jenny for a short time.

Jenny jerked away first, a pink color blushing her cheeks. She reached out a hand and touched each of the horses, stroking their heads, scratching behind their ears, giving them equal attention as she murmured sweet nothings to them.

At least she wasn't afraid of them nor did she complain about how they smelled. He used to tell Flora they smelled like horses. What did she expect?

One of the horses tried to nibble Meggie's hair. Meg squealed and buried her face against Burke's chest. Love roared through him. He would do everything in his power to protect this child.

Meggie realized what she'd done and squirmed to be put down.

Burke released her. Afraid his emotions would be blaring from his eyes, he wouldn't look at Jenny to see if she'd noticed. Instead, he turned toward the alley. “Do you want to see the rest of the buildings?”

“I want to see everything.” She sounded so eager that he stole a glance at her. Her eyes shone, a smile wreathed her face. Suddenly she sobered. “Meggie needs to become familiar with her surroundings.” She stared toward the outbuildings

He nodded. It was all about Meggie. He needed no reminder. Yet her words left him feeling strangely hollow.

J
enny wanted to stuff a rag into her mouth. She'd revealed far too much eagerness. Allowed herself too much interest in the ranch. In the man who owned the ranch.

With firm determination she forced her thoughts back to her purpose—settling Meggie. She needed to find out about the fiancée and encourage Burke to go ahead with his plans so Meggie would have a suitable home.

But they arrived at a long low building—the bunkhouse.

“I should show Meggie the inside.”

Jenny wondered at the hesitation in Burke's voice. She was curious to see Burke's quarters—where the men lived, she corrected herself. “I'd like to see, too.”

Burke hesitated. “I warn you, it's the home of a bunch of cowboys.”

“What do you mean?” She pictured beds covered with brightly colored blankets, saddles at the end of each bed, bridles hung from hooks on the wall between them. Likely a stove in the middle of the room with a table nearby and chairs circling it.

A slow release grin started and made its way across his mouth and deep into her heart. The man had a smile to melt every one of her good intentions. “I guess I'll let you discover for yourself.” He opened the door and waved her in.

“Come and see where Uncle Burke sleeps, Meggie.” Holding the little girl's hand made Jenny feel less like she'd entered forbidden territory.

The first thing she noticed was the mess. No colorful blankets—only tangled bedcovers. No saddles. No neatly hung bridles. Instead a jumble of tools and ropes as if things had been tossed aside and forgotten.

The second thing to hit her senses was the smell. It was all she could do to keep from gasping. She tried to control her breathing but couldn't contain a cough.

Burke chuckled. “Some of the men are so familiar with the smell of animals they claim they can't sleep without it.”

“I'm surprised they can sleep in here. Period.”
Jenny could have bitten her tongue. When would she learn to keep her thoughts to herself?

Burke shrugged. “I guess you get used to it.”

She spun on him, her vow of self-control forgotten. Again. “Do you enjoy these conditions?”

His eyes grew wary. “I tolerate them.”

“Why do you sleep here when you have a perfectly good house?”

“You and Meg are in one bedroom.”

“Oh come on. No one has slept in there for ages.” There was another room across the hall. She hadn't opened the door, expecting the same disarray.

“It's only been a few months.”

“Really. I'd have said at least two years.” Her curiosity raged. “Why did you move out?”

They had moved away from the bunkhouse to the clear, fresh air of the nearby pasture and stopped to lean on a rail fence. Burke's gaze sought the distance but Jenny directed her attention to him. She was not just curious; she wanted to know why things were not as she expected. Something was wrong here, hidden under a current of secrecy and more. For Meggie's sake she needed to find out what it was.

Burke sighed and slowly brought his gaze back from afar. He stared at the grass at his feet. “I suppose Lena told you about Flora?” He glanced at her.

“Your fiancée?”

“She was.”

Was? But before she could shape or voice the questions roaring through her like wildfire, he sucked in air.

“Flora stayed with a lady in town most of the time. Circumspect, she said. But she came for visits, staying a few days at a time. I gave her the third bedroom and moved out here.” His voice was soft, as if he had gone back to his memories.

Jenny sensed that to say anything, ask any of her burning questions, would make Burke stop talking so she forced herself to remain quiet. But after a few minutes she decided he wasn't going to say more. “But you said no one has stayed there for months. What happened? What did you argue about?”

“Nothing.” He drew his mouth down in a fierce frown. “Or maybe everything, though I didn't realize it at the time. She didn't want to marry until she got used to the place. Maybe I hurried her too much.”

“I'm sure it's not too late to mend your fences, so to speak.”

At the look in his face, she drew back. Anger. Frustration. Defeat. And then amusement. “Believe me. It's too late.”

“You need to reconsider. For Meggie's sake. She needs a mother—”

He made a harsh sound. “Once Meggie gets used to me we'll do just fine. Be assured, Flora won't be
coming back.” His whole face tightened. “I have no need of a wife.”

Jenny couldn't find a response. She would not admit that a tiny part of her—a corner of her heart not brought into submission—was glad he seemed so certain Flora no longer had any part in his life. She scolded herself. It made no difference to her. In a few days she would be back home and shortly thereafter announcing her engagement to Ted.

Shouldn't she have felt something besides resignation at the idea? It was only because this place was so far removed from her real life that the two couldn't coexist in her mind. Once she returned, she would realize this was only a dream. But what didn't change were Meggie's needs and her promise to Lena to see her daughter properly cared for. “Someone needs to take care of Meggie.”

Slowly he faced her, such coldness in his eyes she almost stepped back. Only her stubborn nature enabled her to meet his gaze without flinching.

“I am perfectly capable of caring for her.”

“But—”

“I'll hear no more argument on the matter.” He turned and called Meggie. “I'll take you back to the house.”

Anger roared through her. How did he think he could care for a two-year-old and run a ranch? She reached for Meggie's hand. “I can find my own way,
thank you very much.” She hurried away as fast as Meggie's little legs allowed.

Partway back she realized the humor of her situation. She'd asked God to keep her thoughts pure. To help her remember her promises. She'd thought it would be a fight to deny her attraction to Burke but his rude behavior had cured her. She laughed. God had uniquely answered her prayer. But by the time she reached the steps she didn't feel so much like laughing as crying. She only wanted to help. Keep her promise to Lena. Burke had no need to act like she'd done something wrong.

She went inside and begged Paquette for a job.

“Clean veranda, you?”

“I'd love to.” She hurried out to tackle the job, leaving Meggie playing in the kitchen. She sorted out bits of harness and hung them from nails. She tossed the boots to the ground, carted shovelfuls of debris to the ash pile back of the house and set fire to it.

She had swept the floor and was on her hands and knees with a bucket of sudsy water and a brush when she heard the thunder of approaching animals and the whistles of men driving them. Leaving her task, she hurried around to watch. Burke threw open the corral gate and Dug drove a herd of horses into the pen. The horses milled around, tossing their heads, manes and
tails catching the wind. Black horses, every color of red, a couple of buckskins and two or three pintos.

Jenny laughed softly as excitement coursed through her veins. It was glorious. So much power. So much activity.

Burke dragged the gate shut behind the last horse. Jenny couldn't make out his words as he called to Dug who edged toward the gate. Burke opened it enough to let him ride through then climbed up to sit on the top rail. Lucky joined them and the three men pointed and nodded.

Jenny wished she could hear what they said about the horses, wished she could join them and be close enough to feel the surge as the horses milled about.

After a few minutes, Dug moved away, taking his horse to the barn. Burke watched the wild bunch a bit longer. Jenny told herself it was the animals she couldn't take her eyes from but it was Burke she watched. Why was he so set against marriage? No. That wasn't what she meant. Why was he so set against making up with Flora? Her thoughts bounced around inside her head as if seeking an open door and escape. Regret warred with hope. Caution fought with adventure. Her thoughts were wayward children needing discipline. How often had both Ma and Pa warned her she must learn to control them? She sucked back air until her lungs released then returned to scrubbing the veranda floor. Several times she
paused to listen to the horses whinny and neigh but she would not allow herself to return to the side of the house to watch the activity.

Only later, after the men had eaten dinner, full of talk about the horses, and after Meggie had fallen asleep for her afternoon nap, did Jenny slip around the veranda until she could see the pen.

The men seemed to be sorting out the animals. She wished she knew why they were put in different pens. Finally there was only one in the main pen.

Burke threw his lasso around the remaining horse and snubbed the end of the rope to a post before the rearing animal could jerk it from his hands. He edged toward the wild-eyed thing, speaking calmly.

Dug stood by with a blanket and saddle.

Burke intended to ride the horse!

Jenny's heart leapt to the back of her throat and stayed. She slipped from the veranda and, hoping no one would notice, crossed the yard until she pressed herself against a large post, hiding from view as best she could. She didn't want to draw attention to herself but she would not miss a moment of this drama.

Burke deftly drew the rope tighter until the horse couldn't rear. He snagged the blanket from Dug and eased it to the horse's back.

From where she stood, Jenny saw how the animal's eyes widened and its nostrils flared. It quivered all over.

Burke waited a moment, all the time talking softly. She couldn't make out his words but his tone of voice was soothing. A man in control. A man who knew how to still fears. A man—

Stop those wrongful thoughts.

Burke eased the saddle from Dug and gently lowered it to the horse's back. When he reached under the belly for the cinch, Jenny's lungs stopped working completely and refused to start again until the saddle was secured and Burke stood back safe and sound. Even then her breath jerked past tense muscles.

He managed to get on a bridle.

He caught the saddle horn.

Every muscle in Jenny's body quivered as he swung into the saddle.

“Let him go.”

Dug released the rope and the horse exploded, head down, hind legs in the air.

She flinched with every pounding jump but Burke held the saddle like he was glued there. Her tension shifted from fear to excitement and admiration. She no longer watched the horse. Her eyes were on Burke. The alertness in his face as if anticipating every move, the set of his jaw, the way his arms exerted such control…

Her eyes burned with longing. Her throat tightened. Oh, if only she could be part of this every day.

The horse stopped bucking.

Dug yelled. “Way to show who's boss.”

Jenny clapped and cheered. Then she clamped her palm against her mouth. She hadn't meant to reveal her presence. Did a lady hang about the corrals watching cowboys break horses? She didn't expect they did and could almost hear Ma's soft admonition. But it was too late to slip away. Burke had seen her and smiled.

She needed to explain herself. “It's the first time I've seen someone break a horse.”

“These horses are already broke for the most part. Just haven't been rode in a while so they pretend they've forgotten.” He patted his mount's neck. “Just trying to see if I'm still boss.”

She knew her eyes shone with excitement, admiration and things she wouldn't confess even to herself. “Will you ride them all like this?”

“Me or one of the boys. It's not hard work.”

She'd seen the pounding his body took. Looked like hard work to her. Hard and thrilling. “I wish—” She stopped before she could say how much she'd like to try riding a wild horse.

“If you ever want to ride, let one of us know and we'll saddle up a quiet horse.”

“I might like that.”

Dug cleared his throat. “Hey, boss, did you forget there's more horses? You want me to ride 'em?”

Burke blinked as if caught at something he shouldn't have been doing.

Jenny had the same guilty feeling. “I better check on Meggie.” She picked up her skirt and hurried to the house.

 

Burke watched her go. She'd observed the whole time. He'd seen her slip across and hide behind the post as if she didn't want anyone to notice her. He noticed all right. With every thought and every nerve ending. She was like a magnet drawing from him feelings he didn't know he owned. Didn't want to deal with. It had taken every ounce of his self-control to keep his attention on riding the horse.

And then she'd clapped and cheered. He knew by the way she covered her mouth she hadn't intended to and it thrilled him more than riding the horse to know he'd managed to edge past her cool exterior. What else lay beneath? What was she really like?

Stupid thoughts. He needed to rope them and ride them into submission.

Instead he watched until she disappeared inside the house.

“She's different, boss,” Dug said.

“Different than what? Old cheese? Fresh bread?” He hoped his tone would tell Dug to cease.

Dug only laughed. “Different than that other one.”

Seems the men couldn't bring themselves to say Flora's name. Not that he could blame them. Flora had been rude and nasty to them. And that was at her best.

“Flora was different, too, to start with.”

Dug was silent—not an easy silence.

Burke turned to see the stubborn look on his face. “What?”

“You only tried to tell yourself it was so.”

“I tried to tell myself lots of things.” That she would change. That he could persuade her she'd get used to things. He no longer believed it and wouldn't try and convince himself or someone else ever again. “Let's get another horse.”