No, he would rather have done without all of that. His life had been comfortable before. He knew what to expect from day to day. Even the wildest weather, the most unpredictable storms, were still easier to manage than she was.
Unfortunately, he had the suspicion that life with this child would be far less predictable and bring far greater strain.
It was when in a situation like this that a man was forced to decide between the lesser of two evils, as it were.
From where he sat at that moment, she was the lesser.
But she would never wish to stay here. He couldn’t imagine a circumstance in which she would agree to live her life on the mountain with him.
She was from the city, accustomed to fine things. Though she might, as of late, make her home on a ranch, he would have wagered all he owned that her house was fine. Large. He’d already asked her the size of the place, purely out of curiosity and the lack of anything better to talk about, and she had indicated the size of the spread her father had managed.
Such a large, prosperous ranch meant the existence of a large, prosperous house.
The house that would put his humble home to shame.
That was the place for her. It would be cruel to ask her to stay.
Especially when there was nothing else to offer. Physical comfort was one thing, but he got the impression that she was the sort who would have foregone physical comfort if there were anything between them. The sort who would make the best of any situation so long as there was a strong reason behind it.
Such as love.
He knew little about women, and less about love. He had never loved before, not the way his sister had loved her man. Not the way his father had loved his mother. He never had the chance, and yet hardly missed it, had in fact been grateful to have never entangled himself so. Life as a mountain man was difficult enough without additional entanglements holding him down.
Strange how watching her smiling with such tenderness at his nephew made him question exactly what he’d missed. It was moments like this, quiet ones spent by the fire after a long day’s work was done. He suspected these were the times that made everything else seem worthwhile.
For a moment, he could even imagine she was his wife, and the child she held was their child. He could imagine the pride he would feel if that were the case. Pride in a fine son, and pride in a fine woman.
For she was a fine woman, the finest he had ever known. What she did, she did with all her heart. She had loved his sister in the handful of days they had spent together, and she now loved Edward.
So much so, he suspected, that it would be quite painful to part with him.
What if he asked her? What was there to lose by at least finding out her thoughts on the matter? He might pose it as an innocent question, perhaps pertaining to the care of a child. He might share his apprehensions, for example, and laugh at his lack of experience with children. He might confess how nervous he was, how much there was for him to learn in such a short time.
And how he doubted he would be able to do so and still maintain his life as a trapper. It was all he knew, the only way he could make his living. He would certainly need to do that if he was to provide for a child, would he not?
Was this how men felt when they settled down with a woman and began a family? He felt for all the world like he was drowning, like he could barely claw his way to the surface. Each new thought revealed another thought, then another. Another apprehension, then another. Another way in which he was certain he would fall short.
“What are you thinking?” she whispered all of a sudden, her voice cutting through the silence which had only been broken by the snorts of the horses.
He could feel her watching him, her eyes missing nothing. There were times, like at that moment, that he wanted to tell her to turn her face away. To stop looking at him, to stop seeing him.
For she did see him. She did not merely look, she saw. And she understood. Much more than he wanted her to.
“I was asking myself how it will be possible for me to carry on from this,” he admitted. He spoke slowly, his words halting. As if his tongue could not quite make itself form the words he needed to say. It was not easy, admitting weakness. Especially for him.
“I have no doubt you will do beautifully,” she assured him. “I don’t believe you give yourself enough credit. You might not want to hear this, but I believe you are a good man.”
“Please, do not over flatter me.”
“Laugh if you will, but I maintain what I said. You’re a good man, with a good heart. You mean well. I know you will do what’s right for Edward.”
“That is just the thing. I don’t know what is right.” He shrugged, spreading his hands. “I have not the first idea. I have never been alone with a child. I have rarely been alone with anyone, except for my father and for you.”
He glanced her way, only to find her smiling in a soft, knowing fashion. “And just look how far you’ve come with me,” she pointed out. “First, we rubbed each other the wrong way constantly. It seemed there was no end to the ways we could insult or offend each other. Now, we sit here as friends. At least, I see you as a friend. I know there is a great deal more that you are capable of, that you simply have not had the chance to try yet. Such as raising a child. I’m certain it will not be easy. It never is. But you can manage.”
“That is easy for you to say,” he muttered. It sounded dangerously close to a snarl, and he knew it.
But he could not help himself. She did not know what she’d said. How she’d closed the door on his ever asking her to stay.
She believed in him, it was easy for her to do so. She would not be the one to suffer through what he would have to suffer raising a child on his own.
But he was the child’s uncle, and the only blood he had. He’d do it because that was what a man did.
And damn him forever for thinking he could ask a woman for help, for she would always think of what she needed first.
In fact, she was thinking of that then and there.
She sniffled, running her hand across her face as if to catch a tear which had escaped. “I can’t help but think my sisters again. They are always on my mind. I worry about Molly. She is the oldest, even older than me, and she’s always taken our welfare to heart. Before Mother died, she asked Molly to watch over us. She’s taken that vow quite seriously. I can only imagine what she must be thinking now, and how it must hurt her to believe she fell short somehow. I know her, you see, and I know she will take this personally. As if she had anything to do with my kidnapping.”
He remained silent.
She turned to him. “Did I ever tell you the reason we have to live together on the ranch?”
Curiosity got the best of his will and pride, and he shook his head.
“When our father died, we found that he had left the ranch to us in his will. But there was one stipulation. We were to live together, all five of us, on the ranch, for one solid year after our arrival. Only then could the ranch be ours.”
“You did say something about that, in fact. When we spoke of the men who kidnapped you, and how they could not have known that the ranch wasn’t truly yours, that you have no money to give them.”
“That’s right. But you see, if any of us no longer lives there, I’m afraid the bank will take the ranch. Especially if they later find out that I was alive through everything. Do you see what I mean? It might actually have been easier for my sisters had I died.”
“Don’t say that!”
It came out louder than it should have, considering the sleeping child, but Edward didn’t stir. How Roan wished he could sleep that deeply.
“Well? If I’m dead, it would not be a matter of my living elsewhere of my own free will. Any lawyer worth his salt could argue that there was nothing I could do about dying. The rest of my sisters would inherit what is theirs and be done with it. Now? If they find that I spent so long away from the ranch and was alive entire time? I’m afraid the bank will take the ra
nch before I can even return. I know they want the land; it’s quite valuable. It frightens me so. I fear that when the time comes for me to leave, there will be nothing to go back to. It will be my fault, because I should not have run to the mountains. I only made things worse for them. And for myself.”
He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. There he was, thinking of his own problems, while forgetting about hers. He had his nephew’s life to consider, but she had her own, plus those of her sisters and even her unborn niece or nephew. All of them might be affected by her absence from the family.
“Do you truly think the bank would try to use your disappearance as a means of taking the ranch? I have never been fond of banks in general, which is why I didn’t deal with them, but it does seem terribly cruel.”
She laughed without humor. “Yes, well, that is very much the impression I received. It was difficult enough getting them to agree to allow my sisters to live only half of their time on the ranch now that they are married. Phoebe and Rachel both visit their husbands three days out of the week, then spend the rest of their time at the house with us.”
He winced. “That must be difficult.”
“It is for them. That is what they have to do. We were all expected to fall in line, to come to Carson City and live here. No matter whether we were already wed, with families of our own. My father knew nothing about us, yet this was what he demanded. And there is little room for us to work around what he put in place.”
For a moment, Roan believed that her father and his grandfather might get along quite well. They seemed to care little for the needs of others. They certainly did not give much thought to them, at any rate.
Now, he had another problem on his hands. Not only did he have no choice but to manage some way to care for his nephew, he also had to find a way to get her home. It seemed that they would not be able to wait until the weather broke for good.
And this caused him no end of strain as he sat and watched the flames lick at the wood in the hearth.
Wondering how to return to his old life once she’d left him forever.
15
“I will not be gone for long.”
Holly merely laughed and shook her head. “I’ve told you time, and again, we are fine here. Edward and I will keep each other company and have a grand time together. You need only concern yourself with hunting. We’ll be here when you return.”
He looked rather bemused as he clamped his hat over his head, hiding the long hair she’d come to admire so. “I would hope so. Seeing as how there is no way for you to get anywhere without me.”
She rolled her eyes. “If I had to get somewhere, I would. Or do you forget who it was who helped pull you—”
“All right, all right. No need to remind me of that again.” But he was smiling when he left the shack, perhaps even laughing to himself.
That was good. In the days since Lenore’s passing, he had finally seemed to turn a corner of sorts. His spirits were no longer so dark. He brooded far less.
Though she knew he would have denied being in mourning had she asked him about it. He was a man of great pride, after all. She considered it silly, as there were certain situations in which pride could not be considered, but he did have rather silly ways.
Edward crawled across the floor, avoiding the makeshift gate she’d placed around the hearth. Nothing more than stacked rows of firewood, but it was enough to keep him away from the heat and the flame.
Roan would have to keep this in mind when she was gone. There would be so much for him to keep in mind.
To his credit, he had begun to pay attention while she changed Edward’s diaper, while she fed him. He asked intelligent questions, too. What did he seem to enjoy eating, when did he sleep during the day and for how long. How exactly did one change a diaper, and what was to be done with the one he’d removed?
That was not a very pleasant task, and she had perhaps taken a bit more enjoyment from his discomfort, than she should have. Men, even those who considered themselves quite rugged and brave, tended to shy away from such basic human matters. As if there was anything truly unique or shameful or embarrassing about cleaning up after a baby.
She lifted Edward from the floor, delighting in the way he squealed and babbled and patted her cheeks. She raised him up high, swinging him around until he squealed with joy. It was so easy to make a child happy.
“If only I knew how to make your uncle happy that way,” she murmured, holding him close and kissing his smooth, sweet forehead. He was such a charming little thing, with his dark hair and eyes that reminded her of Roan.
She wondered if Roan had been anything like him when he was a baby. And just what had taken place to turn him into the rather surly creature he had become.
But he was changing. He was improving. She had hope for him.
It made her sad, however, to think that she would not be there to see the man he would become.
How foolish this was. How terribly foolish to even think such things. She meant nothing to him, aside from someone he had no choice but to provide for. Nothing more.
And that was as it should be, she reasoned. For this was only an arrangement of convenience. Soon, it would no longer be convenient. And she did have to get home.
For each day that passed brought new fear to her heart. What if she returned and her sisters no longer lived on the ranch? What if the bank had taken it in her absence? Or what if Molly had lost her child? What if one of the girls had taken ill?
What if, what if. It never ended.
She sighed, looking down at Edward, and he seemed to understand her distress. He patted her chest with his pudgy little hand, and she burst out laughing. He was so solemn, so eager to please. A sweet little soul she would miss so desperately when the time came for them to part.
Just the thought of it gripped her heart, and she squeezed him tighter.
The sound of footsteps at the front door came as a surprise. Perhaps Roan had forgotten something. She was halfway across the room and prepared to open it to him when it swung open of its own accord.
Only to reveal a man who most certainly was not Roan. He was roughly twenty years older and a great deal grimier.
She scrambled backward, holding the baby tight. “Who are you? You have no business here. Go away.”
He was filthy. He stank terribly. She could smell him from across the room, and he had not yet entered the shack. Instead, he stood before the open door and looked around inside.
“What d’you have here?” he asked, his voice bitter and nasty. It brought to mind the men who’d kidnapped her, and this only served to make her pulse race faster than it had before.
This was the same sort of man. One who wished to use her, to hurt her.
She stood her ground, her voice loud and sharp. “We have nothing. I told you, be gone. It’s not your home. Go.” She thrust one arm out, pointing.
The man laughed, then spat on the ground. Tobacco juice, black and disgusting. “I don’t recall saying this was my home,” he grinned as he stepped over the threshold. “This ain’t my place, but I intend to have everything inside if I want it.”
The way he looked at her, the way he smiled when he said it, erased all questions as to what he meant. She knew all too well what he had in mind, and the thought turned her stomach while sending her into paroxysms of outrage.
“You will do no such thing!” she bellowed, still backing away from his approaching figure.
The baby began to wail, and she stumbled when she came up against the firewood gate she’d prepared for him. Several pieces scattered about, a few catching fire.
“Now, now, is that any way to treat a guest?” He snickered, looking her up and down as he drew nearer. “Get rid of that baby. I want to get to know you better.”
“Don’t you come any closer!” she cried out, but it was no use.
He took her arm in a tight, merciless grip, and all but threw her across the room.
She fell onto the bed, careful to avoid falling
on top of the squalling baby, and quickly checked to make certain he was well before the man then grabbed her and hauled her to her feet.
“Come on, now. Don’t you believe in being friendly?” His breath stank like the most unimaginable filth, his teeth brown and yellow. He leaned very close to her, his lips nearly touching her cheek as his hands traveled further down over her body.
Sheer panic overtook her. She screamed, shoving him with all her might.
She must have taken him by surprise, for he stumbled back. Now, he was no longer teasing. He wore an expression she could only describe as rage. Bitter, brutal rage.
And he intended to take that rage out on her.
She needed a weapon. Something, anything with which to defend herself. Her eyes fell upon the wood which had scattered over the floor. Thick, sturdy pieces which Roan had chopped from a large limb.
As the man advanced on her, she bent and picked up one of those lengths of wood and held it at one end, like a club.
She did not think. She only acted on instinct. Standing between the man and the bed—the baby still screaming behind her—she raised the wood over her head.
He snarled as he lunged at her.
She swung her arms down with all her might and heard a resounding crack, then a thud.
She did not know until moments later, as the man lay bleeding before her, that she had struck him over the head. That was where the noise had come from, that was why he had dropped before her.
All she knew was that he no longer moved. He no longer threatened her. He no longer tried to hurt her or Edward. And he no longer moved.
In fact, he no longer breathed. His eyes were wide open, staring across the room. There was no blinking, not so much as a twitch when she nudged him with the toe of her boot.
“My God,” she breathed, dropping the wood before sinking onto the bed.
Edward’s face was beet red as he wailed. She forgot about the man for a moment, grabbing the baby and holding him tight. He was fine, uninjured but frightened.
An Inconvenient Bride Page 10
