High Country Bride (6 page)

What I lost is in the past. Perhaps God has put you in my path to teach me.
She could hear again his words and see again the look of desolation on his face. She ached for him. He’d shown her kindness when she had been sure there was no more of it left in the world. He was a good man, and in her experience, those were rare. She intended to do the best possible job for him. She was going to work harder than she ever had. He deserved nothing less.

“Ma!” Daisy ran ahead of James, who had come close to watch the unloading of the wagon. “Can I have a drink of water, too, please?”

It was impossible to look into those pretty eyes and say no. Joanna unhooked the bucket of crystal-clear water and held the full dipper for her daughter. Smelling of fresh grass and sunshine, Daisy leaned close and sipped daintily. Joanna smoothed the fine tangle of platinum hair that had escaped from her daughter’s twin braids. It would need a good brushing later.

A movement blurred at the edges of her vision. It was Aiden reappearing from the shanty, bringing the shadows with him. He cut a dark figure across the lush green prairie. His wide hat shaded his face, but she could feel his gaze on her like the tangible rays of the sun.

“Come on, baby.” Daisy was done, so Joanna took the dipper and dropped it into the bucket. “Let’s take this to Mr. McKaslin.”

“Okay.” Her daughter bobbed to her feet and skipped through the tall grasses. Her happy gait lifted Joanna’s heart another notch.

Aiden had already hefted the second straw tick from the wagon box and was halfway to the shanty. This time James trailed after him and hesitated on the front step, peering in. Joanna set the small pail on the open tailgate. “James? Don’t pester Mr. McKaslin, honey.”

“But I gotta thank him for the bacon!” Earnestly, the little boy planted both dusty feet.

“No need, little man.” Aiden filled the shaded doorway.

James hopped back, his head tilted to gaze up at the tall man. “I can help. I’m real strong.”

“I see that.”

Aiden’s tone might be gentle, but she could see his white-knuckled fists and the cords tight in his throat as he marched back to the wagon. She didn’t get the feeling that he disliked children—no, not that. She thought of what he’d told her, and wondered if her children were a reminder, too. Her spirit ached for him, and she laid a hand on Daisy’s little shoulder, pulling her close to her skirts.

“James,” she said softly. “Keep out of Mr. McKaslin’s way.”

“But I’m helpin’.” James proudly climbed into the wagon box.

“James.” She loved him for his good heart, but the last thing she wanted to do was cause Aiden more pain.

“It’s all right, Joanna.” He swept off his hat, stopping to take a long cold drink. “Thank you kindly, for I’ve been thirsty. I see you already carried in what you could. I’ll finish up bringing in the furniture, if you want to help yourself to my kitchen and start on dinner. Finn and I will be in the field until dark. If you don’t mind, if you could bring our meals out to us.”

“And water, too,” she said with a nod.

“That would be greatly appreciated, ma’am.” He dropped the dipper back into the bucket and the hat onto his head. He had a fair piece of work ahead of him if he wanted the last of the south field cut before the Sabbath. “I’d best get crackin’.”

“Come help me in the kitchen, James.” Joanna held out her hand. The boy gave a sigh but did as he was told, and followed his ma and sister through the whispering grasses.

This wasn’t going to be an easy thing, having her here. Aiden steeled himself and held his feelings still. This was going to be tough on him. He’d learned that the right thing rarely was the easy thing. God was surely handing him a challenge when he’d put Joanna Nelson in his path.

I hope I don’t let you down, Lord.
Aiden slung a wooden rocking chair over his shoulder, rockers skyward, and lumbered back to the shanty.

Already she had changed it. He set the chair down by the window. There was something different about a house with a woman in it. It smelled pretty, looked tidy, felt peaceful. The old tick on the bed was made up as neat as a pin with a colorful ringed quilt. A tiny crate of blue dishes sat on the floor next to the table. A towel embroidered with roses at the hem hung on the bar next to the water basin.

The sound of children’s laughter drifted on the wind. Why that picked his spirits up, he couldn’t quite say. He stacked Joanna’s straw ticks and laid them flat next to the bed. She would be more comfortable with the second mattress between her and the hard dirt floor.

The shanty wasn’t much, but it had housed his family just fine when he was a boy. The roof needed a bit of work, he thought as he stepped outside, but he would get to it before the next heavy rain. As he hiked up the rise, he caught sight of the children running in the grass outside the main house’s back door. The little girl gave a musical giggle and the boy let out a whoop as he carried his wooden horse high.

Aiden tried not to think of the son he’d buried. The little boy he had never gotten to know. He swallowed his emotions, skirted the house and cut behind the barn. The sounds of the children seemed to follow him, those carefree, innocent sounds, teasing at the lost places within him.

What was he going to tell his family? They were bound to find out come church tomorrow. This was only the start of speculation, he knew. His ma and middle brother, Thad, thought he ought to get married again. His mother would especially start quoting Scripture on the subject. Now, he wasn’t objecting to the Scripture as much as to his ma getting her hopes up. Ever since Thad and his wife, Noelle, had gotten married earlier in the year, she had hopes for grandchildren again.

Hopes Aiden could never see clear to fulfilling. Love could put softness into a man’s life, and that was nice. Real nice. But it left him wide-open and vulnerable, without a single defense. He’d been broken clear to the quick. There had been no way to prevent it. When Kate and his son died, it had cost him too much. There was no color in Aiden’s world, no gentleness, no music. There would never be again. His ma wouldn’t understand, nor Thad, either.

But perhaps Joanna did.

If he glanced over his shoulder, he could see the kitchen windows clearly. Sun streamed into the room, backlighting the woman there. She was searching through the cabinets for something…she went up on tiptoe and brought down a large mixing bowl.

He could not say why he lingered to watch her as she set the bowl on the counter. Her long skirt swished around her ankles as she headed to the pantry. She stopped by the door, disappearing from his sight, perhaps to check on the children. Sure enough, both the girl and boy stopped playing and called out to her in reassurance that they were staying close by, before she swept back into his sight with a small sack of sugar.

He could not say when it happened. He only knew the sunshine felt warmer on his face and the hollow where his heart used to be felt less cold.

Work was waiting, so he turned and headed back to the south field.

I
t was a beautiful morning, Joanna decided as she wiped the last ironstone plate dry and stowed it on the shelf. She laid the dish towel over the top rung of the ladder-back chair and carried the washbasin to the doorway.

The children were playing outside in the sun. Their innocent laughter brought joy to her heart. They were her greatest blessings. The best things that had ever happened to her. Since it was Sunday, it was a good day to make a list of her blessings. It had once been a short list, but now it was much longer. Because of Aiden.

She sent a sparkling arc of water flying into the brilliant sunshine beside the path to the door. There was Aiden McKaslin driving a wagon behind his matched set of black Clydesdales. He was dressed in his Sunday best, a tan hat, a blue shirt and tan trousers. He was a fine-looking man.

He reined the horses in and studied her a moment from the high seat, his gaze stony.

She felt plain in her best sprigged calico and with her braids pinned up in a simple coil. “Mr. McKaslin. I was just about to come find you.”

“Guess I saved you the trouble.” The brim of his hat shaded his face, and so his expression remained a mystery. “I wasn’t sure, but I thought you were a churchgoing woman. Wanted to ask if you and your children wanted a ride in to town.”

A ride? With him? She gripped the ironware basin so hard the rim bit into her fingers. In the background, her children had stopped playing, to watch the man with guarded interest. “We planned on walking.”

“That’s a mighty long distance for your wee one.”

“I was going to carry her.”

“Carry her? That’s a far way.” His jaw snapped shut and tension bunched in the corners. He looked out at the prairie stretching off toward the mountains, toward town. “I know you want to save your horse’s hoof. I suppose the other one doesn’t drive well alone?”

“That’s right.” Joanna wondered what was troubling him. “I did not accept your offer to cause you more trouble, Mr. McKaslin. I can see what you’re about to ask. I know you feel your Christian duty deeply, and I respect you for it, but not if it causes you pain. I’m not here to bring you more trouble.”

His midnight-blue eyes snapped to her, studying her bare head—she’d not put on her bonnet yet—and her feet peeping out from beneath her skirt ruffle. Again, she felt oddly plain, and that made no sense. She knew she’d always been a plain woman. But now watching Aiden up on that high seat, looking handsome and powerful with that backdrop of rich blue sky and pure white clouds, her breath hitched in her chest a tad. Soft feelings—kind feelings—rushed into her heart for this man.

“I don’t mind a little trouble, Joanna.” Aiden knuckled back his hat.

She remembered the image of him in the kitchen with his hands to his face. Surely the feelings swirling to life within her were deep admiration and respect for him. Surely that was all and nothing more.

“As I’m already here and we’re both going the same way, you may as well come along. Is that all right with you?” He leaned forward in the seat, his gaze on hers, his strong frame tensed.

Realizing she had been staring at him for too long, she blushed and ripped her eyes away. She glanced down at the basin she was gripping with white-knuckled fingers. “Y-yes. It would be better for the children.”

“Fine, then.” He leaned back against the seat and crossed his ankles, as if setting in for a pleasant wait.

I’ve never met a man like him before. Her eyes found him like sunlight found the earth. The feelings within her sweetened. Surely it was impossible not to admire him. There was nothing wrong with a little admiration for the man who had done so much for them, right?

Right. She whirled around and hurried into the shade of the shanty. Every step she took, she remained aware of Aiden high up on his wagon seat behind her. She thought of his brother, who usually accompanied him to town. Where was Finn? Had she caused trouble between them? Worry curled in her stomach as she buttoned up her shoes. And what were folks in town going to think when she walked into the church vestibule with him?

People were bound to talk; it was simply human nature. And without a doubt, that talk, that speculation, would hurt Aiden. As if a man who had loved and lost as deeply as he had could simply start courting again. No one in his or her right senses would ever mistake his sense of kindness for romantic interest.

Joanna set the sunbonnet on her head and tied the ribbons beneath her chin, glancing in the small mirror. She was too thin, too peaked, too ordinary. No man was going to love her. She’d learned that the hard way.

“Ready?” Aiden called from the wagon seat.

“Yes.” She closed the shanty door, turning to call for the children, but they were already close, standing at the edge of the grass with quiet, solemn expressions. Bits of grass clung to Daisy’s pink gingham skirt, and dust streaked James’s cheek, but they still looked presentable.

She held out her hands. “Isn’t this a treat? We get a ride to church.”

Daisy galloped forward and grabbed her mother’s fingers. James looked up wistfully at Aiden and took her other hand. She was surprised to hear the seat springs squeak faintly. Aiden’s shadow fell across her as he descended. She felt a shiver at his closeness, for he brought the shadows with him.

“Let me help them up.” He spoke to her, not the children. He lifted Daisy into the back, where two board seats had been carefully anchored, and then James.

Such thoughtfulness. He took care with them. Joanna felt the wedge of gratitude take a bigger piece of her soul.

“Your turn.” Aiden held out his hand, palm up. “I reckon you want to sit with your kids?”

“Yes.” She felt like a lady at his kindness. She reached out to place her hand in his. Her fingertips grazed his palm, and it was like touching winter’s frozen ground. Sympathy filled her as he helped her up over the board side of the wagon. Her shoes thudded on the wooden box and her skirts swirled around her ankles, but she was only aware of Aiden’s lost heart.

He released her hand without a word and turned his back, as if he were unaware of the moment. The lark song came again to her ears and the blinding glare of sunlight to her eyes, and yet still she felt cold as she settled with the children onto one of the seats.

He’s without hope, she realized. She knew that place of darkness. It was like being in a blizzard, pummeled by the wind and battered by the ice-sharp snow, unable to see. Perhaps that was why her soul recognized his.

Looking at him, you would not know it. Her gaze caressed the strong straight lines of his shoulders and back, the determined set of his hat and the purposeful way he held the reins. The wagon bounced and jostled through the grass, perhaps following a road that once had been there, to the main driveway, where wild rabbits darted out of sight and gophers popped up out of their holes to watch the travelers rolling by.

Joanna thought she heard something in the whisper of the wind, like a voice just out of reach. The sunshine blazed, the seed-topped grasses stretched like a long ocean of green around them and the music of the birds filled the morning like the sweetest hymn. She knew, impossibly, that Aiden needed far more help than she did.

Aiden halted the horses along the tree-shaded town street, hardly having the room in his thoughts to be glad for the handy parking spot because he felt the weight of so many eyes. He felt the curious looks as surely as he did the hot wind puffing at the back of his neck. This wasn’t the first time he’d been a source of speculation. He gritted his teeth, told himself he didn’t much care and set the brake.

“Those are mighty good horses you got.”

The little boy was standing right behind him, chest up, hands fisted. Aiden swallowed hard, forcing himself to answer. “Clyde and Dale are getting along in years, but right you are. They’re good horses.”

“Clydesdales.” The little boy’s serious eyes lit up with excitement. “My pa used to have one once, but we had to sell him.”

Little boys liked horses, Aiden told himself as he knotted up the reins. That was all it was. No need to look at the fatherless boy. No need to think the lad was needing something in return.

“James, come.” Joanna laid her hand on her son’s shoulder, speaking in that soft way of hers. “Goodness, you’re as windblown as a tumbleweed. I can’t have you going into church like this.”

Aiden swung down, not wanting to see the motherly way she dug a comb out of her reticule and smoothed down the boy’s hair. Nor did he want to see the snap of her skirts in the breeze, or the way she smiled as she worked, or the love on her face making her beautiful.

He swiped his hand down Clyde’s neck, concentrating on the horses. Over the angled line of their manes he could see a buggy roll to a stop and the delight on his ma’s face as she hopped to the ground, hoopskirts swaying. Delight. That hit him deep. Yep, this was going just as he figured. His ma, wearing a grin twice as big as the Montana sky, was hurrying across the street.

“Aiden!” Ida McKaslin had had a hard life, and the worry and a lifetime of troubles had etched deep into her face, but she was still lovely. Smiling, she raised her arms and pressed her hands to the sides of his face. “Look at you. I can’t get over how much I miss seeing you every day.”

Aiden’s chest knotted up with failure, with emotion he could not let himself feel. “Ma, you look as if Thad and his wife are treating you well.”

“They are spoiling me. That’s never good for a soul, but I am not about to complain. I’m settling into my new little house just fine.” His mother looked to be bursting with the next question. “Introduce me to your lady friend.”

Yes, of course that’s what his sweet ma thought. No amount of explanation would talk her out of it, either. He might as well face the music. “Joanna has come upon hard times and she and her kids are staying in the shanty for a spell.”

“I see.” Ma’s eyes lit up even brighter. Judging by the look of her, she didn’t understand at all.

“Oh, no, Mrs. McKaslin.” Joanna came to his rescue. “I’m not his, well, his friend. It’s a business arrangement. I’m working in exchange for rent.”

“Can’t be much rent he’s charging you. Or he’d best not be. You are being fair to her, aren’t you, Aiden?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes. Ma, does Thad know you ran off? He’s probably looking for you.”

“Joanna.” Ma was hardly paying him any mind. She was setting her sights on Joanna. Probably measuring her up as future daughter-in-law material. “Your last name is Nelson, isn’t it? I’ve seen you around, but I don’t think we’ve ever been introduced. Your father, rest his soul, was never on speaking terms with our family.”

“I understand that half of Angel County was not on speaking terms with my pa.” Joanna, with a child in each hand, smiled kindly toward the fragile older woman. “It’s mighty nice to meet you, ma’am. You have a fine son in Aiden. You must be very proud of him.”

“I surely am not.” Her twinkling eyes said otherwise. “I am about to take him to task for not telling me all about you before this.”

“I’m only here for a short time, then I’ll be moving along.” Joanna shot him a look as if to say,
I’m trying to make her understand.

“Don’t worry, Joanna. My ma is a hopeless case. She’s overly optimistic, and it’s my opinion that is not good for a person.” He gave his mother a severe look, but it apparently bounced right off of her.

“Come, Joanna.” Ma reached right past him as if he didn’t exist. “Your little family must join ours. Aiden, I take it Finn will be along?”

“That’s my understanding.” He watched, helpless to stop it, as his mother drew Joanna into a quick embrace, and fell in stride with her and her children. They were talking about the little ones. The boy smiled up at her. The girl skipped at Ma’s side.

“She’s already wondering if one day they will be her grandchildren,” a voice quipped behind him.

Aiden didn’t need to look over his shoulder to know his brother wore that irritating know-it-all grin. “You aren’t helping matters, Thad. You broke down and got married, and now Ma will think I’m likely to be next. Good day, Noelle.”

“Hello, Aiden.” Thad’s pretty new bride clung to his arm, as lovely as could be. Her emerald eyes sparkled up at him with happiness, although she could not see him, as she was blind. “I’m eager to meet your new lady friend. I would like to invite her to join my sewing circle.”

“I’m not courting her.” He had to make that clear. They were just a few paces ahead now. The wide brim of Joanna’s sunbonnet hid most of her face from him, but he could see the delicate angle of her jaw, and the corner of her mouth was drawn up in a smile.

She was being kind to his mother. His chest muscles twinged and his knees felt a little watery. Maybe it was gratitude. He was even more grateful when the wind carried a snippet of Joanna’s voice. “No, ma’am, I am not sweet on your son.”

“Well, you might not see it, dear, but I can.” Ma sounded pleased.

Yes, he thought, it was just as he feared. “Ma, do go easy on Joanna. A pretty woman like her isn’t looking to get tied down with a dour old man like me.”

“That’s exactly right.” Joanna’s tone was very serious.

He couldn’t say why that gave him a pang, seeing as the last thing he wanted was a woman’s affections. He drew himself up, ignored the smarting of his pride—at least he wanted to believe it was his pride hurting him. Then she glanced over her shoulder at him, and her soft smile said more than words and simple assurances could.