High Country Bride (15 page)

“Hard to say. I’ve done almost all I can until the fields dry up some, so later on, I’ll ride over and see.” He took the plate she offered and bowed his head for a quick blessing.

There was a cowlick at the crown of his head. Why she noticed that, she couldn’t rightly say. There was so much she didn’t know about this man, so many things that she wanted to know and to cherish.

“This looks mighty good,” he said when he was done. “Thank you, Joanna.”

“You’re more than welcome. Is there anything I can do here to help you?”

“No. You come out here and you’ll likely get as muddy as me.” She was a great cook; he had to give her that. The pancakes melted on his tongue. “This hits the spot.”

“I’m glad.” She was already packing up, ready to leave him with that gentle smile she always had on her face these days. “I don’t suppose you had a chance to check the orchard?”

“Nope. I can only hope there’s plenty of fruit left on the trees, as I’m looking forward to fresh pies later this summer.”

“Only if you’re good.” There it was, that flash of mischief in her eyes.

“What does that mean?”

“Just wait. You’ll see.” She settled the basket on her arm, and with the breeze teasing the golden wisps of her hair and the brim of her pink sunbonnet, she could have been a wild summer rose come into bloom. So vibrant, fragile and alive, she pulled at the shadows within him. Made him feel every emptiness and every broken place.

“The three of us will have the upstairs room clean and waiting, whenever you’re ready.” She gave her bonnet brim a tug against the low rays of the rising sun. “I plan to go to Noelle’s this afternoon.”

“We’ll do it before you leave then.” He winced a little. “And I’ll ride over with you.”

“It’s a good plan.” She held out her free hand to Daisy. “I’ll come for the dishes later.”

“Not to bother. I’ll bring them in with me in a bit. I can’t do much more out here.”

“All right.” She wanted to stay and keep him company, but she could see that he was having a hard time. She hated that. She wished she knew what to do for him. “We don’t have to move in with you, Aiden.”

“My wife won’t be living in a shanty if I can provide better.” He pinned her with a firm gaze.

He meant it in the best possible way. Joanna could see that plain as day. That still didn’t mean it was easy for him. What a blessed woman his Kate was, to have been loved like that. What an exceptional man Aiden was, to have loved with all he had, down to his soul. Joanna could see the pieces of what was left in him. Her heart swelled even more with affection best kept hidden.

“All right,” she said quietly, ready to go. Her son hadn’t moved an inch. He watched Aiden with more than interest, for surely the boy was old enough to have figured out what yesterday’s ceremony had meant. “Come, James. We need to go.”

There was a question in his eyes. Such a sweet boy he was. She knew what he was too shy to ask. He wanted to stay in the fields and help Aiden, although he was much too little for that. Aiden would have been the kind of father who would take his son with him just to spend time with him, and teach him by his example and kindness.

If only, she thought wistfully. She had no notion if Aiden would ever come to the place where he could be close to his stepson, so she held out her other hand. “Come, James.”

“All right.” He hopped down and ran her way, all little-boy energy. He waited until they were a ways off before he leaned close to whisper, “He’s our pa now, right?”

“He’s your stepfather. Remember I said he and I were married now.” She had explained that when she’d tucked them into bed last night.

Daisy seemed unconcerned, but James pursed his lips, thinking hard. “That’s like a pa.”

“Yes. He’s like having a second father.”

James seemed satisfied. “Then are we going to stay in his house and not leave?”

“Yes, that’s why I married him. So we have a home we never have to leave.”

“That’s sure good. Cuz I don’t want to go back to the wagon.”

“I know, pumpkin.” She didn’t want that for her little ones, either. “We’re here to stay.”

“I like Grandma,” Daisy said, as if that settled it. “She gave me one of her buttons.”

Joanna felt an odd tingle at the back of her neck. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw nothing but a meadowlark hopping onto the fence rail near where Aiden had been standing. She searched the meadow, to find him heading back to work, taking his plate and tea with him.

Even surrounded by the bright fields sprinkled with sunshine, and framed by the vivid blue sky, he somehow looked lost. The sunlight on her face was like a gentle touch, like reassurance, helping her to understand. For so long she had been sure that the Lord had forgotten her. Hardships had wedged their way into her faith, creating rifts that grew larger with every difficulty.

Looking back, maybe she could see the purpose behind every trial that had brought her to stay at her pa’s house, and then the loss of that, too. God had been there all along, gently guiding her here. To Aiden.

Because he needed her.

“W
here do you want this?” Aiden’s voice boomed behind her. He stood in the doorway with the rocking chair hefted easily over his shoulder.

“By the window, please.” She was fully aware that she was a sight. Her skirts were damp and strands of hair had come out of her braid, curling every which way.

She stepped aside to make room, but was hemmed in by the bedstead that had already been in the room, which she and Daisy would share. Then there was the smaller bed Aiden had moved in from one of the spare rooms, left over from when he and his brothers were young.

“Sure thing.” Aiden passed by, brushing against the hem of her skirts as he went.

What a good husband he is, she thought wistfully, watching him as he carefully swung the chair down. He had a perfect profile, with the spill of his dark hair over his high, intelligent forehead, and a straight nose. His chin and jaw were a strong balance to his other chiseled features. Handsome, yes—she surely thought him so—but he was more. He was built of character, and she ached with admiration. With love.

What was she going to do about that? She could no longer hide from it. Love for him filled her as surely as light coming in the window filled the room.

“You could take one of the other rooms.”

“I could,” she agreed. It wasn’t easy trying to hide how she felt. It wasn’t easy knowing her abiding affection for him would cause both of them nothing but grief. She took a step toward the rocking chair, glad that it stood between them like a barrier, creating distance she desperately needed.

She forced herself to look out the window at her little ones playing in the shade of the house, James with his horses and Daisy with her doll.

“You don’t have to all be cooped up in one room.” He sounded gruff, but there were notes of concern there, too, and, as always, his rugged kindness. “That makes it about the same as the shanty.”

“Trust me, this is not the same.” Not with the light yellow wallpaper sprinkled with tiny cornflowers, a fireplace in the corner to warm the space on a cold winter’s night, the polished wood floor and two big windows. “Was this your mother’s room?”

“It was.” Aiden faced the window, too, and seemed to be watching the children at play, although it was hard to tell. He was so distant, as if he were looking in and not out. “Maybe after you settle some and feel comfortable here, you’ll want your children to have rooms of their own. There’s enough for that. Finn won’t be coming back.”

“Maybe he’ll realize the way he’s living his life isn’t right and won’t bring him happiness. Then he will change. It could happen.”

“It could, but I’ve been disappointed hoping in that before. I wish I could have him back. It’s not that I don’t want to.”

“I know.” Even a stranger, someone who didn’t know Aiden at all, could see the anguish on his face. Love and life were such fragile things and could be lost in a blink. Aiden had lost Finn as surely as if he had buried him, too. She could see it plainly. “Maybe there’s still hope for him.”

“Maybe. Pastor Hadly is checking on him as much as he can, and Thad is, as well. Finn is still talking with Thad. That’s something at least. Not that Finn wants to stop having fun, as he calls it.”

Joanna could feel Aiden’s pain. She longed to reach out and lay her hand on his shoulder and somehow absorb some of it. “I don’t think even Finn thinks he’s having fun. He’s escaping from more than the responsibility of working and making a living on this land. He’s escaping life.”

“I won’t argue with you.” Aiden winced. “I know you’re right.”

“You’ve done so much for him. I wish he could see what I do.”

“What’s that?”

“How you want to make things right for him.”

“Now, how do you know that?” He moved away from the window, away from her.

“It’s what I know of you. What I see in you.”

“You seem to know a lot about me.” There were those tangled up feelings again, coiling tight in every empty space. “I guess I’m not so hard to figure out.”

“No, not at all.” There was a smile in her voice and a softness that made him want to turn toward her.

How he wished he could. He fisted his hands, sticking to what was safe, to what was right. “I’m trying to do all I can for him. It’s my duty. It’s what’s right.”

“You always do the right thing.”

“I sure try. Heaven knows I’ve made my share of mistakes.” He wished he could give Finn another chance, but he knew it wouldn’t work. He had to stand firm. He had to let Finn figure out the consequences of his choices, the same as any man. It was the way the Lord intended. A man might have free will, but choosing the easy path was not easy at all. The harder road at first was the easier one in the long run. A man made a lot of mistakes on either path. There seemed to be no help for that other than faith and prayer.

One mistake he hadn’t made was bringing Joanna here. At least he felt good about that. She was wearing her green calico dress today, and he was close enough to see all the careful patching she had done to the garment. Matching the pattern of the sprigged calico took great care. He knew, because his ma had done the same to all of their clothes once, when they were young and times were lean.

“You said you’re doing piecework for Miss Sims?” he asked, his voice coming out more gruffly than he’d meant.

“I will stop by her shop on my way to Noelle’s today, whether you object to my working or not.”

He took in the flash of Joanna’s grin and shook his head. No one had ever before disagreed with him so cheerfully. Or gotten around him quite so easily. He had no notion of how to keep her in check. He had a feeling he never would be able to. Joanna had spirit, one that hardship had not dimmed.

He headed to the door, smiling to himself. “Now, I never said I would object. I only meant to say you will get yourself some new clothes, and for your little ones, too. I won’t be married to a woman with patched dresses.”

“Oh, you won’t?”

His smile stretched a little wider, surprising him. He hadn’t smiled like this in more years than he could count. “I’m putting my foot down. I don’t want to hear any arguments.”

“What if I have plenty of arguments?”

“Too bad. You’ll just have to suffer in silence.” He reached the hall and glanced over his shoulder to make sure she understood what he could not say. “I mean it, Joanna. You’ll do what I say.”

“Oh, you have a lot to learn.” She flipped her braid over her shoulder, as if trying to figure out what to do with a man like him. “Perhaps I’ll do as you ask this once. The children are growing so fast.”

It was a victory of sorts, and he was pleased with that. “There’s something else. There ought to be a few boxes up in the attic. If you want to take the time later on, some of our old toys are crated up. Wooden horses and a barn my grandfather made. Your boy might like ’em.”

“I’m sure he would.”

He turned before he could see her sympathy, but he felt it while he hiked down the hall to his room. Here, he was alone, but no longer safe. He no longer felt as hollow. Without hesitation, he hefted the feather mattress off the bedstead and carried it down the hallway.

He was mighty glad to have that moving business done with. Aiden tightened the last of the buckles and gave Clyde a pat on the neck. “Good old fella.”

The draft horse nickered and rubbed his head against Aiden’s chest, knocking him back a foot. “Careful there, boy. You don’t know your own strength.”

Clyde gave a woof of expelled air and lifted his head. They had company. There was Joanna’s son, standing just outside the barn door. His little shadow fell into the main aisle.

“Does your ma know you wandered away from the yard?”

“No, sir.” The boy’s voice sounded small and forlorn. “I haven’t left the yard. I’m just standing in the dirt is all, instead of the grass.”

“You know to keep within sight of the windows.”

“Yessir.” The boy paled but held his ground. “Ma can still see me.”

Aiden took Clyde by the bits to lead him forward. “You know not to wander off, right?”

“Yep. I gotta stay close and watch my sister.”

“That’s right.” Aiden was near enough to see past the narrow angle of the doorway to the span of yard toward the house. There was Joanna’s daughter, sitting in the shade, changing her rag doll. “You know there are dangerous animals around. They don’t come close to the houses, but I’ve seen them in the fields now and again.”

“Yessir.” The boy edged to the side to make room, his gaze and attention switching to the horse. “I reckon you know all the harnessing.”

“Yep.” Aiden steeled himself because he knew what was coming.

“I sure would like to learn that.” The kid breathed that out in a sigh of longing, the question he was too afraid to ask lingering in the silence between them.

He hadn’t shored himself up enough; the boy’s wish hit him square in the chest. Aiden thought of all the reasons it would be better to ignore the boy and keep on going. All the reasons why it would hurt too much to stop.

His feet made the decision for him. He was handing over one strap of the reins before he had thought it through. “Can you lead Clyde over to the house?”

“I sure can, sir.” Excitement snapped across his features. Hope sparkled. “I’ll do a real good job, too.”

“Walk him slow.” He kept his hand on the horse’s neck, but there was no need. Clyde gave a snort of pleasure and followed the boy, lipping his hair affectionately. The wagon wheels creaked, the boy giggled and the old Clydesdale plodded toward the house.

“Keep to the wagon tracks,” Aiden cautioned, and noticed Joanna on the back doorstep. There was gratitude on her soft oval face and something else that made his pulse skid to an instant halt. Something that made him close his eyes. But the image remained on the back of his lids—the image of her lovely face watching him with adoration.

Maybe it was for the boy, he told himself. Of course she adored her son. That was it, he thought in a panic, opening his eyes and seeing the ground at his feet. Little patches of mud remained from the storm, but already the dust was returning, puffing up with each step he took. He concentrated on that, and when he looked at Joanna again it was to help her into the wagon.

She looked good, and when he took her hand, he felt his spirit stir, as if it was still there, after all, when he had thought that part of him was gone.

It felt right to help her up onto the front seat. “You’ll sit up here with me,” he told her, and since he now had enough experience with her to know what she might say to that, he added, “please.”

That earned him her smile. He didn’t think there was a more beautiful sight than Joanna at that moment, grinning down at him from the high wagon seat. The sun sat behind her like a jewel, framing her with gold. She was like a completely different woman. Gone were the lines of strain and worry. Fallen away was the worn-down look of hardship.

It felt good to think he had a hand in that. That his life amounted to something, after all. It was hard to believe an used up man with no life left could make a difference. Maybe God wasn’t done with him yet.

She held out her arms and he turned to find the girl at his knee, clutching her doll.

“You’re next, little girl.” He hiked her up with no effort at all. She was no burden. She went to her mother’s arms, leaving him to face the boy.

Aiden held his feelings still, tricking himself into thinking he didn’t have any, but before he could offer help, the boy was climbing up on his own, nimbly and easily. Aiden couldn’t say why he stood there, watching to make sure the little guy was safely over the rail, before he moved away. Joanna was watching over her son, too, making sure he settled safely onto the backseat. That’s what Aiden respected about her most of all—that she knew what was precious in this world.

He gathered the reins together and hopped up next to her. It was strange having Joanna at his side. He gave the leather straps a gentle slap and Clyde ambled forward. Aiden couldn’t rightly say why he felt as if a roll of barbed wire was lodged behind his ribs. All he knew was that Joanna was doing this to him, making him ache more with every breath.

“I didn’t know where to put the lovely things your mother and Noelle made us.” She turned to him, obviously unaware of her effect on him. “I didn’t want to put them in my and the children’s room.”

“You should. It seems fitting.”

“Sticky fingers,” she explained, and there was that smile again. The soft, captivating look of fondness. “They might fare better in your room.”

“I have no use for frilly lace. No offense.”

There was her smile again, wide enough to reach her eyes and to touch his worn-out soul. He liked that he could make her smile like that. That meant he’d done the right thing, although judging by how he was feeling, it didn’t seem that way.

“I simply wanted to know what to tell Ida and Noelle. Their gift was thoughtful and beautiful, and I wanted to be able to tell them where I intend to display their handiwork. How about the parlor?”

“Good solution.” He pushed his hat back and guided Clyde onto the main road, although the big guy knew his way. It gave Aiden something to focus on beside the woman and her smile. Summer had bronzed the prairie. Everywhere he looked was the amber of ripening wheat, the russet of wild grasses and the yellow-gold of wildflowers nodding in the breeze. It would be harvest soon. “I didn’t get a chance to look at the orchard.”