Linda Ford (16 page)

“Oh.” Her exclamation of wonder was all the satisfaction he needed. “What are they called?”

He pushed his hat back. “I don’t know. Never gave it much thought.”

She knelt in the midst of the flowers, her hands brushing the blossoms.

He stood back and admired her. She was so beautiful when she relaxed like this. She practically glowed with happiness.

Finally she turned to him, her uplifted face alight with pleasure. “This is wonderful. Like a refreshing drink to my soul.” She pushed to her feet and faced him, separated by no more than six inches. “Thank you.”

He caught her shoulders and pulled her to his chest. “You are most welcome. God has put the flowers here for everyone’s enjoyment. No charge. No obligation.”

She eased back. “We better check on the children.”

She’d withdrawn at his comment but she allowed him to take her hand as they returned to the shrieking, racing youngsters. And she seemed lost in thought.

He hoped and prayed she was beginning to see how many things were freely given. He shepherded the youngsters into the wagon and drove to the bottom of the cliff. He barely stopped before they jumped out and raced over to the spot where hundreds, perhaps thousands, of buffalo had met their death. He’d never seen a herd coming over the cliff, or watched the Indians skinning the animals and preparing the meat and hides. But an old cowpoke who’d seen it had told him what happened and he explained it to Cassie.

“This is where the women cut the meat into strips and hung it on racks to dry. It provided plenty of food for the winter months.”

She looked about. “Yet they are now starving to death. Forced to steal cattle to keep their families alive.”

He knew they both remembered how Red Fox had almost been hanged for trying to rustle one of Eddie’s cows because his family was starving. “Eddie did right to give him part of the cow.”

“You do know it was Linette’s idea, don’t you?”

He shrugged. “It was still his decision.”

“T’would no doubt be a shame to give the credit where it’s due.”

“I don’t expect Eddie would object to giving the credit to his wife.”

“They weren’t man and wife at that point.”

“Eddie wouldn’t object even then. He’s a fair and reasonable man.”

She shrugged. “He’s also a hard, demanding man.”

For a spoonful of dirt Roper would argue but he figured Cassie was just itching for a chance to point out all the follies of marriage. “He’s a good boss. Never had better. What are Billy and Neil up to?” he asked as he noticed the boys.

She switched her attention to the boys and he let out a relieved sigh.

“Looks like they’d found something.”

The boys tugged and pulled at an object.

Cassie and Roper sauntered over to see.

“We found a skull and horns.” Neil leaned back, using his weight to try and get the skull from the overgrown grass.

“Let’s have a look.” Roper squatted to examine it. “That’s a good one.” Both horns were still attached and the skull was not even cracked. He wriggled it free and stood it up.

“Can we keep it?” Neil begged.

“Please, please,” Billy added, bouncing up and down.

“It’s up to Cassie.” They all looked at her. Roper expected his eyes were as pleading as the little boys’.

She studied the skull. “I’ve never seen such a big head.” She rubbed the ragged, rough horns. “It’s quite a treasure.”

The boys rocked back and forth, impatiently waiting for her answer.

She smiled. “Certainly you can take it back.”

The boys whooped and Neil grabbed one horn, directed Billy to take the other and they carried it to the wagon and loaded it carefully.

“That was very generous of you.” Did she realize she’d given a gift without expecting repayment? But she looked worried. Why?

“What if the uncle comes and won’t let them take it? Won’t they be disappointed?”

“Who knows what will happen with the uncle? We can only take one day at a time and leave the rest in God’s care.”

“I know I should but sometimes—” She shrugged. “God is good and loving but people aren’t always.”

“Nor are they always unkind and begrudging.”

She considered his statement, her gaze following the two boys. Slowly she turned toward him, her eyes round. “Trouble is,” she whispered, “how can you tell who and when? Seems best to prepare for the worst. Then anything else is a happy surprise.”

“Am I a happy surprise?” His throat tightened around the words.

Her study of him went on and on. He wanted her to see that he gave freely, expecting nothing in returning, wanting only to make others happy. “I guess maybe you are.” She spoke so softly he wasn’t sure he heard her correctly.

He read fledgling trust in her eyes and wanted to whoop with joy just as Neil had. He wanted to dance across the prairie like the girls did. Instead, he leaned close and planted a quick kiss on her nose. “It’s a beginning, sweet Cassie, a very good beginning.” He tucked her arm through his. “Let’s have our picnic.”

He had never tasted such good syrup sandwiches in his life. Or better oatmeal cookies. Even the water had a sweet taste to it.

Cassie had given him her approval. It meant more to him than a gold mine. Dare he hope he could gain with her the very thing he didn’t believe he deserved? Him, a nobody? Could he have a forever family? For today he would let himself believe it possible.

The children wolfed down their food and raced back to explore but he took his time, wanting this afternoon to last forever. He couldn’t stop grinning at Cassie for no apparent reason and knew he was making her nervous.

Finally she leaned close, her eyes challenging. “What is so amusing?”

He sat up straight and pressed his hand to his chest in mock surprise. “Are you addressing me? Because if you are, you mistake my being pleased for amusement.”

She almost managed to hide her confusion. “You aren’t laughing at me?”

He touched her chin. “Cassie, I don’t laugh at people.”

She lowered her lashes. “What are you pleased about, then?”

Laughter bubbled up from his heart. “Because, sweet Cassie, you admitted I was a happy surprise. That means you are starting to see that what I do for you, how what I feel about you is given without a price tag.”

Her gaze dipped deep into his as if she sought something more. She pressed her lips together. “What do you feel about me?”

“I—” He sat back as a rush of emotion raced up his insides and grabbed his throat. “I—” His throat tightened and he couldn’t speak.
Don’t put down roots.
The words blasted through his brain.

“Never mind. It was a stupid question.” She grabbed the tea towel and box that had once held sandwiches.

“I care about you.” The totally inadequate words burst from his lips. It was all he could offer her. And it was not enough. She deserved so much more. The heart of a man with a past and a future.

He had neither and his insides burned with regret.

She continued to grab at things and needlessly arrange and rearrange them.

He would not hurt her by word or action. Not for all the water in the ocean. “Cassie, let me continue to be a happy surprise. Know my friendship has no price attached to it. I only want to see you happy.”

* * *

A couple of hours later Cassie sat on the wagon seat beside Roper as they headed home. It had been a fine day. The children had played freely and were thrilled at the skull they brought back.

She’d enjoyed the flowers and a day with nothing to do but take pleasure in the sunshine. But her delight was tinged by unsettling thoughts. He kissed her, then offered friendship. He grinned foolishly and endlessly because she admitted he was a good surprise and then he declared he only wanted to make her happy.

What would it take for her to be happy? Not so long ago she thought she knew. Have her own business, be independent. Now she wasn’t sure. Her uncertainty left her unsettled. And when had she gone from prickly Cassie to sweet Cassie? Prickly sounded strong and independent. Sweet sounded weak and—

Heaven help her. She seemed to have lost the ability to control her thoughts. All she could think was sweet sounded exactly like something she’d secretly wished for most of her life. She clamped down on her teeth and reminded herself how vulnerable it made her to let people inside her boundaries. She must keep Roper outside them.

Was it already too late to barricade every opening?

The squat buildings of Edendale came into view. She leaned forward welcoming the diversion. Had men come by expecting to be fed? Would they return or decide if they couldn’t count on her they’d stop coming? They passed Macpherson’s. Several men perched on the hitching rail, and a couple squatted with their backs against the wall. All of them turned as the wagon approached.

“Supper be ready soon, Miss?” Rufus, the smithy, called.

“Give me half an hour.” Her thoughts slid into place. All she needed to do was keep her eyes on her goal.

Momentarily her heart resisted. Was there more to life than she allowed?

* * *

Over the following days, the question repeated itself, becoming especially loud and demanding at unexpected times. Like when Roper reached for the coffeepot to carry it out to the men and his arm brushed her shoulder. Or when he took her hand as he prayed at the table, his grasp so solid. So steady.

Her thoughts were so tangled.

Yet he seemed content to continue their normal routine. Surely it was only her imagination that made her think he grinned at her more frequently or that his gaze lingered on her just a fraction of a second beyond ordinary when they talked.

Evenings were the most confusing for her.

He liked to remain after the children had gone to bed. Sometimes he suggested they go for a walk and she agreed. Out of curiosity about what he wanted, she reasoned. Not because she longed for his company. They would saunter up the short street of Edendale and back. Or they’d follow the road from town until the deepening dusk forced them to return.

Other times he invited her to the river and they would look at the stars or listen to the murmur of the water.

She discovered he liked to talk. He had many stories about the places he’d been and the people he’d worked with.

“I was left on the step of the orphanage when I was very tiny,” he said as they sat in the same spot where they’d watched the falling stars and she’d found comfort in his arms.

Her attention intensified because he seldom talked about himself.

“A tiny baby wrapped in a piece of flannel. No basket. No note. But my blanket had been secured by a bit of rope.” His laugh lacked bitterness. But it also lacked humor.

“The maid who found me named me Roper because of that bit of rope. Jones was the last name of the month, I guess.”

She reached for his hand. “Seems a perfectly good name. Better than Muddbottom.”

They both laughed a little though she wondered if either of them was amused. “I lost two babies. I can’t imagine having to give up one. I wonder what happened.”

He shrugged. “I used to make up stories. But I will never know the truth. I’m not complaining. Life wasn’t unpleasant in the orphanage, especially if a person tried to make it pleasant.”

“And you, being Roper Jones, tried to make it pleasant for everyone.” A thought began to take root. “You might not have a past but everyone who knows Roper Jones knows who he is and what he stands for. Seems to me that’s a pretty good heritage.”

He gave no indication that he heard or understood except for a telltale twitch of the muscles in his arm.

She squeezed his hand, hoping he would acknowledge the value of what she’d said.

“I liked to take care of the other children.”

So he was going to ignore her comment. That was all right. Sooner or later she would convince him his lack of family history did not detract from who he was.

“Most times I could cheer them up no matter how sad they were.”

She understood it had become his mission in life to make others happy. Was she only a mission for him?

“Who makes sure you’re happy?” she asked as the stars draped the night.

“You do.” And then, as if he’d said too much—or was it too little?—he quickly added, “So do the children.”

“Happy enough to marry in order to give them a home?”

“You made the same agreement. Is giving them a home enough to make you happy?”

She said it was. But it was yet another question to echo through her head in the quiet of the night when she couldn’t escape her thoughts.

Her plans had seemed so complete and satisfying at one time.

Why did they now feel fractured and disintegrated?

The question rattled about in her brain so she couldn’t sleep.

Chapter Twelve

T
he next morning, the rattle of a wagon drew her attention to the ever-deepening trail at the edge of her property. Early customers? Her worries disappeared at the sight of her company. “Linette. Eddie. And Grady. Why it’s about time you came to see me.” She ran to greet them.

Eddie helped Linette to the ground and Grady scrambled down on his own.

“We would have been here sooner but it’s been busy. I finally told Eddie if I didn’t see you soon I would simply die of loneliness.” Linette laughed merrily. “Cookie sent cinnamon rolls and a few supplies.”

Cassie glanced into the wagon and groaned. “You can’t keep sending me so much stuff.”

Linette hugged her. “Why not? We can afford it. Can’t we, Eddie?”

Eddie pulled his wife to his side. “We have more than enough. But I’d have more than I deserve if I lived in a tiny cabin with two women and a child.”

They shared a laugh. That’s exactly how they’d spent last winter when Linette and Cassie had first arrived.

Eddie planted a kiss on Linette’s nose. “I’ll be back after I pick up the mail and supplies.” He turned to Roper who had come from the house to see who it was. “Come and give me a hand,” Eddie called and Roper jogged over to join his boss. They unloaded the supplies, stacking them in the shack where there was a little more room now seeing she had used up much of what Roper had brought previously. Then they headed for the store.

Eddie waved at Linette. “Enjoy your visit.”

Linette watched him go, her eyes brimming with love.

Cassie wondered what it would be like to know such love, to be so certain of it. She thought of Roper but he offered only friendship. Besides, she didn’t trust love.
Obligation to love.
The words again sprang from her memory. If she could remember the source maybe they would make sense.

She shook troubling thoughts from her mind. “Grady.” She held out her arms and the boy threw himself into a hug. “How are you?”

“Papa gave me a horse.” The boy had called Eddie papa ever since he and Linette married. “I can ride it.”

“Good for you.” Not so long ago the boy had been afraid of horses and Eddie.

“Come and meet the children.” She introduced Linette and Grady to the children, and they immediately included Grady in their play.

“I want to show you my house.” But as soon as they were alone she turned to her friends. “Roper informed me you have a little one on the way. Congratulations.”

Linette considered her, her palm pressed to her stomach. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it.”

“Why, I’m happy for you.”

“I’m sorry my joy reminds you of your sorrow.”

Cassie did not want to rob her friend of any of her deserved joy. “My sorrow is in the past. Your joy is present. I’m nothing but happy.” She drew Linette into the building. Roper had put up the walls with the help of the men who came by to eat. A roof stood overhead. The rooms inside were marked out.

Linette wandered through with Cassie pointing out where the big table would go and where the stove would stand, and showed her the trapdoor to the cellar. “This room will be mine.” The far end of the house would be her bedroom.

“I’ll build a solid door,” Roper had said, giving her a look she could only describe as possessive.

How could she think it might be such? He certainly gave her no reason.

Suddenly the house, her pride and joy, seemed so primitive and inadequate compared to the beautiful, big house on the hill where Linette and Eddie lived. “I know it’s not much but I can feed men here. I can bake bread and other goods. I can support myself.”

Linette linked arms with her. “It’s going to be lovely. What kind of curtains are you going to make?”

“I thought red gingham. I want to make tablecloths to match. Though I’ll likely use oilcloth most of the time.” The men wouldn’t care what she covered the table with, only what she served, but on the rare occasions a woman visited she planned to set a nicer table.

She edged Linette toward her quarters. “Maybe something a little finer in here.” In truth she hadn’t thought too much about how she’d outfit her room, her main concern being the eating area. “I think I’ll do a quilt during the winter.”

“I have some fabric scraps you can have.”

For a bit they talked about sewing and decorating. Cassie caught up on news of happenings at the ranch.

“Have you had any news from Grady’s father?” Linette had vowed to get the man to acknowledge his son. She’d acquired the child on her trip across the ocean when his mother died. Her task had been to deliver him to his father in Montreal but the man had turned his back on the boy, saying a four-year-old child was of no use to him.

“I have sent several letters. Last time I drew a likeness of Grady and sent it along. I pray that someday he’ll realize what a gift he has in a healthy son.”

Cassie crossed her arms across her middle and pressed tight. A living healthy child, boy or girl, was a gift not offered to everyone. How could the man be so ungrateful?

Linette noticed her reaction. “Cassie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that and reminded you of your loss.”

“No. You’re absolutely right. The man doesn’t deserve what he has.”

“I hoped Grady would forget the scene with his father but he hasn’t. The other day he asked if he was an orphan. When I said he has a father he got all sad. Said his father didn’t like him.” Linette shook her head. “I am determined to get the two of them together, appreciating each other.” She glanced toward the store. “Maybe there will be a letter from him today.”

“Maybe I’ll have a letter soon, too.” She warned herself there might never be a reply. Her grandfather would prevent it if he could. “I wrote to a lady back home asking about my mother. I would like to at least know if she is dead or alive.”

Linette sighed heavily. “I can’t imagine not knowing. I will add to my prayers a request for you to hear from your mother.”

“I don’t expect to hear from her directly. My grandfather would never allow it.”

Linette turned toward the sound of the children screaming with laughter. “What’s to happen to them?”

She meant the four Locke children. Cassie explained the Mountie was trying to contact their uncle. “I guess their future depends on whether or not he is prepared to take them on.”

“I guess we’ve seen how it doesn’t always work out that way. Then what?”

“Roper and I have agreed to a businesslike marriage so we can care for them.”

Linette grinned widely. “I’m guessing you’ll marry him whether the uncle comes or not.”

“Oh, no, it’s only a business agreement for the children’s sake.”

“Your eyes say otherwise.”

Cassie squinted, hiding anything Linette thought she saw. “What could you possibly think they say?”

“That you care about the man.” Linette sounded terribly pleased about her observation.

“Certainly I do. He’s a good man and a good help.”

“I agree, but be honest. Don’t you have deeper feelings for him than that?”

Cassie shook her head. She couldn’t admit it. Even to herself. “You know I am not about to chain myself to a man ever again.” But it wasn’t chains she pictured when she thought of Roper. It wasn’t obligation and owing. What she saw was his wish to make her happy. She chomped on her back teeth. She dare not trust such thoughts.

“Raising children is a lot of responsibility,” Linette continued. “Sure you want to take it on?”

“I’m sure.” She could give these children what her grandfather had withheld from her—care without cost. Kindness without strings attached.

Linette seemed to be considering something. “Even without adding four children to the community we desperately need a church and a school. They only make it more imperative. I will speak to Eddie about it again.”

Suddenly Cassie realized how many things four children required...schooling, clothing, room to sleep. She could conceivably outgrow her little house before she even moved in. Linette was right. Four children was a lot of responsibility. Good thing she and Roper would be caring for them together should it turn out that way.

Eddie called out a greeting. Linette turned eagerly and picked up her skirts to rush to his side. “Did we get a letter?”

“Several but not the one you’re looking for.” Eddie handed her a stack of correspondence.

Linette checked through it as if Eddie might have made a mistake.

Roper had paused to rearrange the supplies in the wagon box and now sauntered over to join them. His gaze sought and found Cassie and a smile brightened his face.

As if he were glad to see her.

She smiled back automatically, barely recognizing this strange feeling in her heart. Once, in a time almost beyond her ability to recall, she’d been glad to see a man return. Welcomed it. Understood it meant she would receive love and attention...when her father was still alive. Before she’d learned there was a cost to attention. A payment due for everything given.

Linette announced they must leave, pulling her away from her dark thoughts.

Cassie hugged her friend. “It was nice to see you.”

“I’ll be back. We need to work together on getting a church. I think that’s most important. Depending on how things work out—” Her gaze flitted to the nearby children. “We’ll have to set our sights on a school, as well.”

“At least you have your Sunday services at the ranch.” She couldn’t believe how much she missed Cookie and the others and the time of worship they conducted in the cookhouse every Sunday.

“You’re welcome to join us any time you want.”

Eddie lifted Grady to the wagon and helped Linette up. Cassie hated to see them go. They left behind a hollowness.

She wished Roper would move closer.

As the wagon rumbled away, she pushed such foolishness out of her mind. She had a business to run. Children to care for. And she headed to the shack to prepare a meal.

* * *

A few days later, minutes before mealtime, Lane appeared for the dinner. This was his first appearance in nigh unto a week.

“I’ve been putting up firewood. Got a good supply for the winter.” He slid into place at the table but bounced back up before his jeans touched the wooden bench. “My oat crop is beyond expectations. See for yourself.” He handed her a small bundle of green oats, tied with a bit of twine.

She examined the offering and made what she hoped were appropriate comments. Truth be known, she had little knowledge about farming and crops as she’d tried to explain to George when he was so keen to head west and stake a claim on free land. She wondered how much he knew having been raised in town and having always lived in town. His response had been to dismiss her concerns. Say it was the very reason he was determined to get a piece of land with his name on it.

When she handed the oat cluster back to Lane he waved it away.

“Keep it. Have a look at it every so often and think what promise this land has.”

“Thank you.” She stuck it in an empty Mason jar, not knowing whether she should water it.

“The land is rich and generous,” Lane said.

His raving gave Cassie an idea. “Do you have a garden?”

His enthusiasm waned slightly as he watched her. “I put in a few root vegetables. Enough for a single man like me.” He grew more intense. “I would think a man could raise enough garden produce to feed a whole family.”

Cassie ignored the way Lane looked at her. She had no intention of being part of his plans no matter how wonderful he made them sound. Besides, she had a tentative agreement with Roper.

Several others joined them for the meal. As she dished stew into each man’s dish, she stole a look at Roper. His eyebrows thundered together and his eyes shot silent arrows at Lane. What on earth was the matter with him?

She ignored him and returned to the conversation about gardens. “It’s too late in the season for me to plant this year but next year I’ll raise my own vegetables. I wouldn’t mind getting some hens, as well. Does anyone around here have some to spare?” She looked about the table for an answer.

Rufus wiped his chin. “Petey could bring some from the Fort on the stagecoach.”

“I’ll speak to him and I’ll get Macpherson to order me some chicken wire.” Satisfied with her plans, she served the rest of the meal.

Lane lingered after the others left, sitting at the table, drinking cup after cup of coffee while Cassie and Daisy did dishes.

Roper went back to work on the house. A few minutes after he’d left, he returned. “Need a drink.” He guzzled a dipper full of water and stared at Lane hard enough that Cassie wondered if the man wore armor under his shirt to protect him from the heat of Roper’s displeasure. Then Roper stalked off.

Again she wondered what Roper was upset about. Seems she should be the one bothered about a man occupying space without lifting a finger to help.

“My family has a dairy farm back in Toronto,” Lane said. “Big place. There are four sons. I’m the second youngest. I could have stayed and worked but it seemed there were more opportunities out here. With my parents’ blessing here I am.”

Yes. Here you are. Drinking a pot of coffee and interrupting my work.
“I’m sure they’re pleased with what you’ve accomplished.”

“Yes, indeedy.”

Indeedy? What kind of English is that?
She scrubbed the table right up to his elbows, forcing him to lift his arms. “I suppose you’ll be going back East soon to spend time with them.”

“Oh, no. I’m here to stay.”

Seems like it.

Roper rushed to the water bucket. “Thirsty again,” he muttered, and downed another dipperful. Neil stood at the house watching, looking startled by Roper’s sudden and intense thirst.

Roper swiped at the water dribbling from his chin, rocked his gaze from Cassie to Lane and back to Cassie then loped over to the house, muttering under his breath about something.

Cassie looked longingly at the little shack where she might find some peace and quiet. She’d endure the heat from the stove in order to escape these crazy men. “Excuse me,” she said to no one in particular. “I have to tend to supper for the children.”