Aiming for Love

by Mary Connealy

  She bathed Ilsa’s head and neck over and over with the water, and still fever had her in its grip. Somehow that kiss seemed like a betrayal of her family. She’d chosen Dave over her sisters, and now Ilsa was sick and Ursula might be, too.

  As the time passed and the fever worsened, all Jo could feel was regret that she’d befriended strangers. Ursula had the right of it. They should have hidden.

  The Nordegren women were better off alone.

  28

  On the morning of the fourth day, Dave was bathing Ilsa’s forehead, kneeling between the bed and the wall. Jo hadn’t spoken one unnecessary word to him in days. She wouldn’t look at him, nor Ma, nor Mitch.

  She’d run off once for hours to check on Ursula and came back with the news that, at least for now, her crazy sister wasn’t sick.

  His heart ached to see Jo so upset, and he couldn’t find a spare minute to talk to her, certainly not a spare minute to talk to her alone.

  He noticed a bead of sweat pop out on Ilsa’s forehead and trickle down her temples into her hair.

  Catching his breath, afraid to believe it, he watched her closely, carefully. Then Jo was across from him, on her knees. “What is it?”

  He didn’t know what sound he’d made, but he’d awakened her from where she slept by Ma near the fire. She really looked at him for the first time in days, and she looked terrified.

  She read his surprise as fear and thought her sister was dead.

  He hurried to turn aside that heartbreak. “Her fever broke.”

  With a quiet gasp, she pivoted to study her little sister. Jo hesitantly reached her hand to touch Ilsa’s cheek, almost as if she were afraid to hope. “When a sweat comes, that’s the end of the fever, isn’t it?”

  Dave nodded. “Mitch’s fever came and went for a few more days, but the worst was over.”

  “It’s only been four days. He had five.”

  Mitch came to kneel beside Dave. “She had worse blisters. Maybe that sped things up. Maybe it’s a little different for everyone who gets it.”

  Then Ma was there. On words as soft and quiet as a prayer, she said, “She’s beaten the fever. She’ll be all right now.”

  Jo smiled. Dave laughed out loud.

  “Thank God.” Mitch sagged back on his heels until his back rested against the wall.

  Ma directed, “Get up, Jo. Give me a minute to check her over.”

  Jo got up, backed away, clenched her hands together into one big fist, and closed her eyes. A smile appeared on her face so angelic it made Dave’s heart stumble.

  He had to talk to her. Now. He’d left it too long as it was.

  How would he ever have such a chance in this overcrowded cabin? And how could he hope she’d be able to even think of anything but her sister?

  Drag her outside, that was all he could do.

  Was his whole relationship with her to be handled in the snow?

  Probably. Yes, it was the snow or nothing. And he wasn’t willing to accept nothing.

  Mitch bathed Ilsa’s face, then lifted her with his arm under her shoulders as Ma handed him a glass of water. Dave had never seen his big brother be so gentle.

  Right now, for just a few minutes, it looked like Jo didn’t have much to do.

  “Watch Ilsa. I need to talk to Jo.” Striding the . . . two steps . . . to Jo’s side, he caught her wrist and pulled toward the door. He pulled hard enough her feet left the ground for a second. He caught Jo’s coat off an antler used for a hook and opened the door.

  “No, there’s nothing to say. I don’t—”

  Jo was still talking when the door slammed behind her. Dave thrust the coat into her hands. She glared at him, not putting it on. At least she was looking straight into his eyes, even if it was more glaring than looking.

  “I need to find Ursula again,” Jo said. “Ilsa made it through this with all our help. If Ursula is this sick, she might die without someone to care for her.” She took a step toward the horse staked out nearby. Unsaddled, unbridled. What did she think she was going to do? She couldn’t get the horse ready for riding.

  “If you try and get on a horse before I have my say, I will tackle you into a snowdrift and sit on you while I talk. Now, do you want to do that with or without a coat?”

  Her eyes narrowed, but she pulled the buckskin coat on. Her fur bonnet and doeskin gloves were in her pockets. He stood staring while she got herself bundled up.

  “I’m sorry.” Dave had been thinking for days about what to say and, honestly, “I’m sorry” hadn’t even occurred to him. But that’s what came out.

  “I need to get to Ursula, or go back to Ilsa. I don’t have time to listen to you.”

  “Ilsa’s in good hands, and she’s on the mend. And you’re right, we have to check on Ursula. But there is time for you to talk to me for one minute.”

  Crossing her arms, the very picture of stubbornness, Jo said, “We have nothing to talk about. Once we’ve gotten through this sickness, if we are still alive, my family wants nothing to do with your family anymore. You’ve brought danger wrapped in friendship. You’re a wolf in—”

  He kissed her. Wrapping his arms around her, lifting her to her toes, he deepened the kiss, and he wasn’t imagining that she was kissing him back. And he sure wasn’t imagining her arms wrapping around his neck.

  When she was fully cooperating, Dave pulled back only inches. He rested his forehead on hers and opened his eyes to see their breath mingle together.

  “I am so sorry. So sorry Ilsa is sick.” He pulled back far enough he could look her in the eye. “I’m sorry we brought you disease and danger. But Jo, don’t say you’ll have nothing to do with me. Please don’t say that.”

  “Dave, we can’t—”

  He really wasn’t going to let her say that, and to prevent it, he’d kiss her for as long as he had to.

  She tightened her arms.

  When the kiss ended this time, he lifted his head and studied her for signs of remaining resistance. Her eyes were a blue so deep and pure that he felt if he looked long enough, he could see his future. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks were pink, and her hair dangled wildly from beneath the bonnet. He had some memory of running his fingers into her hair. The bonnet hadn’t stopped him.

  On a whisper, he said, “You’re not leaving me, Jo. You can’t hide well enough . . . and believe me, I know how well you can hide. But not well enough to keep me from finding you. I’ll just listen for the sound of my own heart breaking, and that will guide me to you.”

  Jo studied him. “How can I be with you when you nearly killed my sister?”

  “Ilsa is healing. We didn’t come anywhere near killing her.” That seemed like such a weak defense that Dave decided to stop talking. But then he blathered on.

  “Yes, she got real sick. But she beat it, and she’ll heal and be her old self again.”

  “But it could happen again.”

  He reached for her and gently but firmly grasped her upper arms. “There are no guarantees for a long life untouched by sickness. We still have to face the men who shot Pa and ran us off his ranch. We have to go to the nearest land office and buy this land. If we do that, go down there, it’ll expose us to the men who want us dead. We have to figure out where we’re all going to live through this harsh winter. We have to find your crazy big sister and get her to calm down and come home.”

  “We’ll have better luck with the gunmen.” Jo’s brows furrowed.

  “None of this will be easy. But it’s life, Jo. Life can be complicated and frightening. But it’s also wonderful. Especially . . .”

  He swallowed hard and forced himself to go on. “Especially when two people care for each other. And we do. One kiss is enough for me to know you’re the finest woman I’ve ever known.”

  “It’s been considerably more than one kiss.”

  A smile broke out on his face. “Yes, it has. I enjoyed our rides together last week, and working beside you helps me understand what a special, wonderful, hardwor
king, wise woman you are. I know all that about you, and we’re only getting started.”

  Her eyes went wide. Her lips, shining from his kisses, opened enough to draw in a deep breath.

  “I want to be with you, Dave. The way I feel when you kiss me, I want that. I don’t want to be alone forever. But I’m so afraid.” Tears welled in her eyes, and her lips trembled.

  He drew her close and hugged her tightly. She clung to him with her face buried against his chest.

  For a time, her arms were fastened like a vise, but at last she relaxed. He touched her chin with a gentle fist and raised her eyes to meet his. They were awash with tears and hope.

  “With God, the worst thing to happen to us, things that lead even to our death, will only take us from this life to the next.”

  Nodding, Jo said, “You sound like I did when I was trying to convince Ursula to let go of her fears. I know it’s a waste to live my life always afraid. That was the life Grandma and Grandpa chose for themselves, and they forced us into it. But it’s not right—not faithful—to live in fear.”

  He lowered his head and kissed her, this time more gently and with love.

  When he raised his head, Dave saw hope overcome her fear. “Say you’ll marry me, Jo. Say you want to join your life to mine.”

  “Even if you bring danger to my life?” She swallowed hard, and he saw her throat work as if it’d gone bone-dry.

  “Yes, even then. Because I’ll also bring love, and a home we can share and fill with children.”

  Jo gasped. “Children. I’ve never even thought of that.”

  “Well, you need to start, because our love will grow into a family, babies will grow up, and we’ll have to let them loose in the world, with all the risks and all the beauty. That’s the world we live in. That’s the world God created.”

  Jo kissed him quickly. “The only thing more frightening than letting you and your family into my life is thinking about a life without you. And I love your parents.” Jo frowned. “I’m not sure why Mitch has to squabble with Ilsa so much though.”

  Dave shook his head. “My brother’s just not adjusted to life out of the big city, I reckon. He’ll calm down.”

  “And Ursula.” Jo sighed deeply. “I doubt she has any plans to come back.”

  “It’s time to check on her again, in case she’s sick. Ilsa would’ve been in big trouble without someone to care for her. My brother, too.”

  “We should go now.” Jo patted Dave on the chest then took a step toward the house.

  Dave reeled her right back in. “Are you going to marry me, Jo? You never really said yes.”

  Jo shrugged sheepishly. “I don’t know much about men, nor marriage. Come to that, I don’t know much about talking to people other than my sisters. I think with most things, you’re going to have to be really plainspoken, at least for a while.”

  That brought a smile to Dave’s face. “It might not be a bad rule for our whole lives, and that has nothing to do with you and how much you know about people.”

  Dave took a step back, and holding one of her hands, he sank to the ground on one knee.

  “What are you doing? You’ll get your knee wet.” Jo yanked on his hand, but he only grinned.

  She was right. She didn’t know much about people, nor the way a man went about proposing. Of course, neither did he. But he’d heard of this.

  “I am on my knee because I want to humbly ask you to marry me. I want to beg you to say yes. And when a man begs, he gets down on his knees to do it. I want you to know that it would be the greatest honor of my life if you would accept my proposal of marriage.”

  “Really, you’re doing all that?”

  Dave laughed out loud. Then he kissed the gloved tips of the fingers he held. “Say yes, Jo. And you’ll always remember this moment because of my strange act of kneeling.”

  She gave him a lopsided smile. “I don’t think I’d forget even if you were on your feet.”

  He kissed the back of her gloved hand this time. “Say yes. I’ll kneel here until you say it or until my knee freezes off, whichever comes first.”

  She tugged, and he stayed there in the snow. “I want you to stand up so I can kiss you and throw my arms around you and say yes. Yes, I’ll marry you with great delight, great excitement, and great love. Kissing you is the most thrilling thing that’s ever happened to me, and I once killed a grizzly bear with six arrows and a dull knife, so that’s saying something.”

  Since the very thought of that nearly drove him mad, he distracted himself by springing to his feet, dragging her into his arms, and saying, “I want my first kiss as the man you’re going to marry. Then we’ll go tell my ma.”

  They were a long time giving anyone the good news.

  29

  Jo and Dave rode out to find Ursula as soon as they could get away.

  Which wasn’t that quick because Ma made a fuss over the coming marriage. A big fuss with a big smile. Mitch slapped Dave on the back and gave Jo a hug, which Dave put a stop to almost immediately.

  Ilsa even said a slurred congratulations from the bed.

  Finally they packed up a fine load of supplies for Ursula and headed for the stone building.

  “If she’s sick, we’ll care for her,” Jo said. She wanted to ride faster, but when she tried, the horse started to shake her off. Dave called it trotting and suggested they stop and practice, but Jo didn’t want to wait.

  “And if she’s well, we’ll try and convince her to come back,” Dave said. He led the loaded packhorse.

  “She can cut her own wood, hunt her own game. She was working on an elk-hide pelt to use for a door covering.” Jo looked at Dave, worried half out of her mind. “She’ll be alright if she doesn’t get sick.”

  The stone structure came into view.

  Dave pulled his horse up short. “What is this place?” he asked in a hushed voice.

  “I don’t know.” Jo stopped beside him and looked at the dwelling Ursula had chosen over family. “The front part is falling down, but the rooms formed with that overhang as a roof are still standing. When I was here before, Ursula was in the first one we found with the working fireplace. It’s not a bad place to live.”

  “If you don’t mind being swallowed up by a mountain.”

  They studied the strange structure in silence for a long moment.

  “Who built it? Not your Grandpa,” Dave said quietly again, almost as if he didn’t want to disturb this lonely place.

  Jo kicked her horse into a walk again. “We have no idea. I hoped you could tell me.”

  Dave studied it with narrow eyes. “I’ve heard of cliff dwellings in a place they’re calling Mesa Verde, not that far south of here. I’ve never been down to it, but I’ve heard talk. Stone blocks built into walls like these, some still standing, some tipped over and caved in. Mesa Verde isn’t all on the ground though. It has rooms several layers up that are carved out of the sides of cliffs and natural caves. The bottom walls, though, and the shaped stones were done by human hand.”

  “There is at least one part that looks like it was a stack of rooms. Who lives in Mesa Verde?”

  The wind whistled through the pines as they rode on. It crossed Jo’s mind that she’d been assuming Ursula would still be here. What if she wasn’t? What if she’d abandoned this place and found an even lonelier place to live? Could a place exist that was lonelier than this?

  “No one lives there now. No one, not even the oldest native folks, have ever known anyone to live at Mesa Verde. There’s no known mention of it in the most ancient tribal lore. Whoever built it and lived there vanished.”

  “So those folks who vanished may have spread up this far? Did they all leave together? Did they die in a war or . . . or in some disease outbreak?”

  “No one knows.” Dave’s eyes were so fixed on the building that he fell silent.

  That’s when Jo heard her big sister singing. She heaved a sigh of relief. She was here and well enough to sing.

  “That’
s Ursula.” The song snapped Dave out of his intense focus on the building.

  “Yep.” They rode up to the stone dwelling, and Jo swung down off the horse. She was getting to be a good rider.

  “Her voice and this strange, ancient place feel touched by God.”

  “When she’s upset she sings.” Then Jo realized that wasn’t the whole truth. “When she’s happy she sings. And when she’s busy or idle or somewhere in between. She always has a song on her lips. She sings Bible verses and sings about weather and animals and cooking. She’s been like that from my earliest memory.”

  Now the two of them stood outside the strange building and listened. The song was so sad it brought tears to Jo’s eyes.

  Not interested in nonsense like crying, and with no door to knock on, Jo hollered, “Ursula, I need to talk to you.”

  The song cut off. Ursula was utterly silent. She didn’t come out.

  Dave unloaded the packhorse, and Jo walked in. She came upon an elk hide hanging over an opening, so Ursula had gotten that much done. Jo heard the crackle of a fire. Ursula was just fine up here alone.

  “Stay out, Jo.”

  Jo’s fingers itched to shove aside the thick elk-hide door, grab her big sister, and drag her home. But it would do no good. They couldn’t chain her to their cabin. They couldn’t keep her prisoner forever. Ursula had to choose to come home.

  Impatient with her own hesitation, Jo shoved the hide away and stepped in. “Ilsa is past the sickness. She’s healing, and she’s going to be fine.”

  Ursula let out a quiet whoosh of relief.

  “Are you all right? Are you sure you’re not feeling sick? We will take care of you.”

  “I’m fine. And I plan to stay here. I’ll live alone, and I’ll die alone.”

  The firm resolve in those words broke Jo’s heart. “I want you to come to watch me marry Dave.” There was only silence.

  “Go away, Jo. You’ve made your choice, and I’m making mine. I’m not coming down, ever. Go away and don’t come back.”