Finally, Lorinda looked up from her half-eaten food. “You’re not that old. Even I get aches and pains sometimes.” She picked up her biscuit. “What kind of jelly is this? You made it before I came to live here.”
“Plum. The thickets grow wild in some areas of the ranch.” Mrs. Oleson dropped into the chair beside Franklin.
“It’s delicious.” Lorinda took a bite, and a drip of butter started down her chin. Quickly, her pink tongue flicked it away.
The memory of the kiss at the wedding rushed into his mind. That memory almost choked him, and he stopped bouncing the baby.
Lord, help me. Without being able to let her know how much he liked having her around, his life could turn into a misery. The only bright spot right now was this tiny boy who had captured him in all the right ways.
Franklin was responsible for so much. How could he take care of the worries he and Thomas discussed last night? What scared him most was his inability to guarantee the safety of the three people who shared the house with him.
The most important people in his world.
Chapter 21
As Lorinda forced down each bite and held back the tears, she watched Franklin play with her baby. He was a natural father. When he looked at Michael, his expression turned so tender, his eyes twinkled. The baby leaned against his chest showing how much he loved and trusted him. Often, their gazes connected and held so long she wished she were part of the connection. Too bad Michael was the only child he would ever have.
Franklin stood and lifted his son high above his head while the baby laughed and sent slobber down the front of his starched shirt.
Lorinda grabbed a napkin and started dabbing the mess. “Just look what he did.”
He handed the baby to her, and their fingers intertwined on Michael. For a moment, she felt so connected with both of them. He stared into her eyes and the connection grew stronger. She backed away, pulling her son against her shoulder.
Franklin dropped his hands. “Not a problem. I’ll just change before I go.”
Go where? She couldn’t bring herself to voice the question. What rights did she have in this marriage? Not that she had very many in her first, but Mike did at least tell her where he was going and when to expect him back. What exactly was wrong to cause those worry lines on Franklin’s face? Maybe he thought she wouldn’t notice...or maybe he didn’t look in the mirror this morning.
“All right.” Her gaze followed him as he left the kitchen.
“You want me to hold him while you finish your breakfast?”
Lorinda had almost forgotten Mrs. Oleson was in the room. “Yes, thanks.”
After passing off her son, she dropped back into her chair. She really wasn’t hungry anymore, but she knew she had to eat to keep up her strength and provide her son the nourishment he needed. She took a fork full of eggs and slid them into her mouth. She chewed them even though they seemed tasteless to her. Tasteless...colorless. Everything in her life, except her son, had changed.
She listened and swallowed back the tears until Franklin went out the front door. She didn’t want Mrs. Oleson to know how unhappy she was so soon after the wedding.
The housekeeper talked and played with Michael until Lorinda finished eating. “Just leave the dishes on the table. I’ll clean them up.”
Lorinda took her son and started nursing him. It felt so good holding him close and knowing that she was providing everything he needed. After dropping a kiss on his smooth forehead, she glanced up at Mrs. Oleson.
“Do you know where Franklin is going?”
With a shake of her head, the housekeeper responded, “No.”
At least he hadn’t told her while keeping the information from Lorinda.
“Well, what about last night? Do you know what was wrong?” She couldn’t breathe as she awaited the answer.
Another negative response released a sigh from her. So she wasn’t the only person in the dark. “I hate to ask this...but is this usual in a marriage? Not telling the wife anything?”
Mrs. Oleson turned from washing the dishes and wiped her hands on her apron. “Not in my marriage. And not in Franklin’s parents’ marriage.” She came to the table and sat in a chair across from Lorinda. “But it’s been a while since they’ve been gone, and Franklin hasn’t had anyone but himself to think about. A man can get set in his ways. He probably didn’t even think about telling you.”
“I’ve never liked having someone else decide everything about my life.” She tried to keep the bitterness from her tone.
Michael stirred and stopped nursing for a moment. He always did that when something upset her while she was feeding him. She pulled him closer and murmured loving words into his ear.
After he settled down again, Lorinda raised her gaze. “When Mike and I were married, he made all the decisions, but at least he told me about it.” She wondered if she should be comparing her husbands out loud to the housekeeper.
Tenderness filled Mrs. Oleson’s eyes as she looked at her. “Give him time to get used to being married. It’s a lot to take on all at once...a wife…a son. Maybe he’ll tell us when he comes back later.”
And maybe he won’t.
Franklin rode into the pasture where the chuck wagon was set up to feed the ranch hands while they were working out on the farther pastures of the ranch.
He dismounted at the edge of camp and walked Major toward the wagon to both cool his stallion down and keep from raising a dust cloud. “Terrell, has everyone finished breakfast?”
The rotund man did a quick glance toward the sun and his gray handlebar mustache twitched. “Sure have. Gettin’ closer to lunch time. Gettin’ married musta slowed ya down.”
Franklin expected to get some ribbing from his men, especially the ones that had been here the longest. “Maybe, for a while.” He glanced around. “You know where Thomas is?”
“Sure thing, Boss.” The cook grinned.
Just like Rusty. No matter how many times he’d tried to get Jerrel to stop. So Franklin just got used to it.
“Up at piney pasture. Found quite a bit of damaged fence.” He didn’t look any happier than Franklin felt about that development.
“Thanks. I’ll find him.”
He mounted Major and headed toward the highest pasture he owned. Before he arrived, the air had thinned enough that he felt almost dizzy. He must be getting soft from staying at the lower part of the ranch so long. At least, it didn’t seem to bother the cattle. Maybe it wasn’t just the thin air that caused him to feel different.
Across the pasture, Thomas and a couple of other hands worked on the barbwire fence for the upper boundary of the ranch. On the other side of the fence, the peaks poked through rocky outcrops and scrubby trees. If the cattle thieves tore down the fence here, they had a hard time controlling the cows they stole. No wonder his men couldn’t find the trail.
He headed around the herd to get to where they were working.
Thomas met him far enough away from the other men that they could talk without being heard. “How can I help you, Franklin?”
He dismounted. “I’ve come up with a plan of action.”
The older foreman nodded. “All right.”
“We have to protect the homestead area of the ranch. I want to use a few of our best hands to do that. They’re familiar with the layout, who should be coming to the ranch house, and who’s up to no good.”
“How many?”
“I tried to think how few we could get by with, maybe two or three.” He walked closer to Thomas. “But I don’t want to take a chance with my wife and my son. So it’ll take six or eight to make me feel comfortable.”
He wondered if he would ever feel safe until they caught the man or men who were cattle rustlers and the arsonist. Any of them could be the murderer. His family was far too valuable for him to take any chances with their safety. “I’ll work with Rusty. He knows the men almost as well as you do. He can help me choose. We can scope out the best places for each to cover.”<
br />
“Sure gonna make us shorthanded.”
He expected his foreman to say that. “I know. So here’s what we’re going to do. You know which hands like to sign on for cattle drives and are the most dependable. Pick eight of them and offer them a job. They can cover for the ones we take back to the homestead.”
“You want me ta do it?” Thomas scratched his head. “Thought you did all the hirin’ and firin’.”
“Usually.” He stared out across the mountains wondering where the varmints could be hiding. Lots of wilderness area out there. “But I want to take the eight hands back to the ranch and get them started. And I’ll keep the others working while you’re gone. Don’t want to be away from the ranch overnight.”
Thomas settled his Stetson on his head. “Could take me more ’n one night.”
“I realize that. Take all the time you need. We have to have the best men for the job.” He mounted Major and looked down at Thomas. “Tell them we’re hiring them from now through the drive.”
“Sure thing...Boss.” A smile split the foreman’s face before he turned toward where the horses were ground tied under some shade trees.
Maybe Franklin should just let the men call him what they wanted. He was tired of trying to change them. He had more important things to keep up with now.
While he headed out to check on the other ranch hands and work things out with Rusty, he hoped the criminals stayed away from his home...and his family. Hopefully, they weren’t aware that he and his men had discovered what they’d done.
After they finished cleaning house and preparing supper, Lorinda agreed to let Mrs. Oleson have grandmother time with little Michael. She sat on the porch swing enjoying the evening breeze and the happy sounds coming from the parlor. Now that he’d started cooing and laughing, he exercised his voice most of the time.
She pushed the swing with one foot while she gazed out into the changing colors of early evening. The sun slowly sank behind the distant peaks, leaving vibrant streaks of color across the sky, painting the few clouds various shades. She found it odd to see a pale lavender cloud beside a pink or orange one. Finally, her life contained all the color she wanted. No longer was it drab and uninteresting as her early years had been.
God, I know this life is a blessing, even though it’s not what I long for.
Several cowboys rode across the paddock spread behind the barn. Her heart lifted when she identified the silhouette of her husband. He’d been gone all day, and she missed his presence at lunch.
Earlier in the day, his foreman had returned. He’d gone to the bunkhouse and packed his saddlebags. Then he came to the house to ask if they had any fixin’s for sandwiches. Mrs. Oleson had prepared a fairly large burlap bag of food for him to take wherever he was going. He didn’t say. Lorinda wondered where, but of course, she didn’t ask. So many things that happened on the ranch were outside her knowledge, and she didn’t want to be too nosy.
She didn’t remember Franklin ever riding with so many ranch hands. Surely, something unusual was going on. If only she knew what it was. Maybe she and Mrs. Oleson would find out when he came to the house. At least, she hoped so.
The hired hands stopped near the bunkhouse, but Franklin continued on. He dismounted outside the gate to the picket fence and dropped the reins on the ground before coming up the flagstone path to the porch. Why did he do that? Wouldn’t the horse wander off? So many things she knew nothing about. If she was going to be a good wife for him, she’d need to learn.
Franklin’s boot thumped on the first step. “Are you enjoying the outdoors?” He stopped when he reached the porch.
“Yes. I’m taking a break after cleaning house.” She smiled up at him.
He leaned against the railing and crossed his arms over his chest. That movement stretched the fabric tight over his muscles, in his arms as well as other places. She didn’t want to notice his strength, but removing her gaze from his imposing figure wasn’t easy.
Chuckling, he glanced at the open windows to the parlor. “I started to ask where our son is, but no need.”
“They’re having a good time.” She dropped her gaze to the floor. “I’ve enjoyed listening to them as much as I’ve enjoyed the breeze and the colors of twilight.”
He shifted, crossing his legs at the ankle. “You like it here, don’t you, Lorinda?”
If she disagreed, he’d wonder why. But she did like it here. She just didn’t know where she fit into the scheme of things.
She nodded. “It’s peaceful.”
He straightened. “Do I smell roast?”
“You do.” She got up from the swing. “Mrs. Oleson cooked while I cleaned. Tomorrow, she’ll teach me how to make meatloaf.”
Holding the screen door open, he waited for her to precede him into the house. “Sounds good to me.”
Mrs. Oleson was already in the foyer, holding little Michael. “I’m sure you want to see this guy.” She grinned at him.
He pulled the leather gloves from his hands and lifted the boy to press a kiss to the curls on the top of his head. Then he handed the baby back.
“Give him to his mother. I want to clean up so I won’t get him dirty.” Franklin headed toward the rooms they shared.
Lorinda took Michael, propped him on her hip, and followed their housekeeper to the kitchen.
When Franklin arrived in the kitchen, he immediately reached for his son. Their boy was growing like a weed, as his mother used to say. His son laughed at him and patted him on the cheeks when he tried to give the boy a kiss. They played while the women got the food on the table.
“You want me to take him now?” Lorinda held her arms toward the baby.
“No. I can eat and hold him at the same time.” He’d been gone from his son for hours. So he wanted to hold him as long as he could. Breathing the essence of the sweet baby, he sat in the chair he always used.
Mrs. Oleson set three filled plates of food at their usual places. “Eat up. We have plenty.”
Franklin bowed his head and said a special word of thanks to God, then raised his head. “You said there’s plenty to eat. Enough for eight more men?”
The housekeeper nodded. “What do you have in mind?”
“I brought eight of the men back to the homestead with me. I’m going to have them work around here for now.” He accepted a hot roll from the woman and set it on his plate to butter it one-handed. “Terrell is out with the chuck wagon. If we have enough food, I’d like to take it to them in the bunkhouse after we finish eating.”
He wasn’t sure he was ready to tell the women what was going on. He knew Mrs. Oleson wouldn’t be a problem, but he didn’t want to frighten Lorinda. If he didn’t let them know, they might question having so many men stay near the ranch house all the time.
“What’s going on, Franklin?”
Lorinda acted surprised by Mrs. Oleson’s question. If she would look at him, he’d try to show her he wasn’t upset by what was happening. But she concentrated on her food.
He laid his fork on his plate. “Criminals could be lurking out there. Until we know for sure, I want the home place protected.”
Finally, his wife looked at him. “What kind of criminals, Franklin?”
He could tell she was trying to acting nonchalant about it, but she didn’t quite come across that way. “Cattle rustlers. Too many from our herd are missing. There’s always some that go missing, but not this many. We’re not sure if this is one person or more...and one of them could also be the murderer or even the arsonist.”
Lorinda gasped and placed one dainty hand on her chest. She was so ladylike. She reminded him of his mother when she was young. Why hadn’t he noticed that before?
He reached over and clasped her other fingers. She looked startled, glancing down at their entwined fingers.
Warmth spread up his arm. “I don’t want to upset you. I just want you to know to be careful. We’ll post these men in strategic places, so every side of each building is visible to someone. I do
n’t think you’re in real danger. I just don’t want to take a chance...with my family.”
A soft blush spread across her cheeks, making his breath hitch. Franklin couldn’t lose his heir so soon after obtaining him...and his wife became more precious to him every day.
He really was in a pickle. Not being able to let her know he’d changed his mind.
Chapter 22
Lorinda held Michael close to nurse him. She enjoyed these special times with him, but she knew they were limited. Her son was growing much too fast. He wasn’t satisfied to lie in her arms while she fed him. Instead, he was more sitting than lying down, and every few minutes, he stopped, raised his head, and glanced around as if he was going to miss something. She was pretty sure she knew what he didn’t want to miss. About this time of day, Franklin usually returned to the house for the evening. She knew she listened for him to open the door.
During the last few weeks, her husband was true to his word, staying close-by and only riding out to check on the ranch hands occasionally. While he was gone, she didn’t worry about being safe. Most of the time, she knew exactly where at least two or three of the men hid while guarding them, and she knew the others were close enough to see the road and the house at all times.
With Terrell back in the bunkhouse kitchen, she and Mrs. Oleson only had to cook for themselves and Franklin. Of course, Michael liked the mashed potatoes they ate with most meals. Mrs. Oleson fixed them more often since he was eating some of the table food.
Lorinda had learned to recognize the distinctive clip-clop of Major approaching the house. So had Michael. They both heard Franklin ride up outside. He would soon come through the front door. She could relax now, knowing he was so near, but her heartbeat grew stronger as she thought of her husband...even if he was in name only.
Their son wriggled and pulled away from her. His happy jabbering filled her heart even more with the love she felt for him. He sounded so earnest as if really telling her something important. She wondered what kind of thoughts babies had at this age. She wanted him to grow as he should, but since he would be her only child, she wished she could savor these times a little longer.
A Heart's Gift Page 17
