Forever Hidden

by Tracie Peterson

  The room was silent for several moments after she left. Madysen straightened up the cushions and Havyn walked toward him.

  “Thank you, John. For all you’re doing for our family.” She laid a hand on his arm. “We can never repay you for your kindness.”

  “You’re quite welcome.” He laid his hand on top of hers, and as their eyes met, he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the night right there. With her.

  Her cheeks tinged pink and she pulled away. “I’m going to make sure Mama has everything she needs. She looked exhausted. Good night, John.”

  “Good night.” When she’d left, he slapped his hand on his thigh.

  “You like her, don’t you?” Madysen’s voice broke through his thoughts.

  “I . . .”

  The youngest of the Powell women gave a light laugh. “It’s all right. I’m not teasing you. I think it’s great.” She took a few steps closer to him. “And I won’t say a word. I promise.”

  If Madysen had noticed, had everyone else? His feelings for Havyn were all a bit too new for him to even put into words. What could he say?

  Madysen paused in the doorway and looked back at him. “By the way, thank you for sacrificing your salary for our family.”

  She’d no sooner left than Whitney stomped into the room. “Sacrificing your salary? So you can look like the hero?” She sneered. Her chin lifted, a fierce look in her eyes. “I need to talk to you. Right now.” She turned on her heel.

  What on earth? He reached out to put a hand on her arm. “What’s wrong?”

  She yanked her arm out of his grasp. “Not in here. As much as I want my family to know, now is not the time.”

  “All right.” John followed her outside and around the corner of the house. What had he done now?

  She held up a paper and his heart sank. The contract.

  “What is this?”

  Shaking his head, he swiped a hand down his face. He’d forgotten about it when Whitney went to his room. “That is something we should talk to your grandfather about.”

  “No. I’m not waiting for that. I want to hear it from you. Is that why you’re here? You want the farm, is that it?” She grimaced. “All this time . . . and to think, I was beginning to warm up to you. Thought you were here to help. I even was ridiculous enough to think that since you and Havyn seemed to like each other, that you’d be a nice addition to this family.” Her voice rose in volume. “And then I find this!” She waved it in front of his face. “How could you?”

  Words failed him. She was right to feel the way she did. Oh, why hadn’t he insisted to Chuck that they destroy the infernal thing? Wait. Did she say she was warming up to him? That was news. She’d seemed as frosty to him as ever.

  “Why aren’t you saying anything?” The fire in her eyes was accompanied by tears.

  Was she going to cry? “Whitney, I’m sorry. This contract was a request from your grandfather when I first got here. He wasn’t feeling well and was afraid if something happened to him, you ladies wouldn’t be taken care of. He didn’t want anyone coming in and trying to steal the farm from you.”

  “Someone like you?”

  He shook his head. “No. I came here because our grandfathers were dear friends. Did you know that they swore to each other to take care of the other’s family if something happened to either of them?”

  She narrowed her eyes.

  “It’s true. And I agreed to the contract, yes, because your grandfather pled with me to sign. So I did. Because of my own grandfather. But as soon as I started getting to know all of you, I told him I was uncomfortable with the arrangement. That I didn’t need a contract to make sure nothing would be taken from you.”

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth? All I have is your word, and I’m not sure I can trust that.”

  Several seconds passed as he weighed his words. “You don’t know. Other than the fact that I haven’t done anything dishonorable.”

  She tapped the paper against her hand and stared him down. Taking a step toward him, she studied him. “You’ve probably noticed that I’m not quite as trusting and forgiving as my sisters and mother. As the eldest, it’s my job to take care of my sisters. To make sure they don’t get hurt. Because it’s happened before. I won’t let it happen again.” She moved back. “But because of everything our mother is going through, I’m not going to talk to her about this right now. Rest assured, though, I’ll be talking to my sisters about it.”

  Havyn. How would she react? “I understand that. But would you allow me to tell them my side of the story?”

  “I don’t think that’s going to matter much to them. Not once they read this.” With that, she walked away.

  John swallowed against the lump in his throat. This would change everything. And to think that he’d really felt like he and Havyn had a chance.

  What would she think now?

  Fifteen

  There’s something I need to tell you both.”

  Havyn frowned. Whitney sounded so serious. That couldn’t be good. A sinking feeling in her stomach didn’t help matters. “What’s going on?”

  “And why did you bring us out to the dog kennel?” Madysen waved an arm toward the yipping puppies. “You never want anyone else out here with your dogs.”

  “That’s exactly why I brought you out here. So no one else would hear.”

  Whit wasn’t one for dramatics. That was Madysen’s area of expertise. “All right, then. Now you’ve really got me worried.”

  Whitney pulled a piece of paper from her apron pocket. “I found this when I went to John’s room.”

  Havyn reached for it. Her heart sped up. Why did Whit look like it was something ominous? As she opened it up, Madysen leaned in beside her.

  At the bottom of the page were two signatures. One, her grandfather’s. The other, John’s. She went back to the top of the page and started reading.

  As the words sank in, she forced herself to keep breathing. And not cry. It couldn’t be what it looked like . . . could it? The dogs barked and whined around her. Cows lowed in the distance. Everything was normal. Except her world. It felt like it’d been tipped.

  Madysen straightened up beside her. “So what’s got you all upset about this, Whit?”

  The look on Whitney’s face went from angry to incredulous. She stuck her chin forward. “Don’t you get it? John’s here so he can get the farm. By marrying one of us.”

  Havyn had no words. She just stared at her sisters.

  Madysen’s brow furrowed. “It’s not as bad as all that. This clearly states that Granddad put this agreement on paper so that we would be protected. See?” Madysen leaned back in and pointed to a line.

  “I saw that”—Whitney pointed to another line—“but it also states that John is to marry one of us, and then he will own the farm.”

  Like a dog with a bone, Whitney wasn’t going to let this go.

  “Oh.” Madysen was quiet for a moment. Then she shrugged. “But it’s not like any of us were going to inherit it anyway. We’re women. And don’t you want to get married one day? I know I do. And I don’t exactly plan on staying here.”

  Havyn whipped her attention full-on to her younger sister. “Wait . . . what? You don’t want to stay?”

  “No . . . I mean, I love you guys. But I dream of seeing other places. Traveling. Playing the cello on a bigger stage than the Roadhouse in Nome, Alaska.” Her voice softened the longer she went on. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Tears slipped down Havyn’s cheeks. Maddy leaving? It broke her heart. Not to mention the contract that was still in her hands. Why, oh why did Whitney have to tell her about that awful thing?

  Whitney stepped closer to them. Hands on her hips, she was back in older-sister-take-charge mode. “The real problem here is John. We can talk about your dreams later, Maddy, but I think we need to admit that John needs to go. He’s not here for us. Or for Granddad. Or . . .” She laid a hand on Havyn’s arm. “Even for you, Havyn. He’s her
e for the farm.”

  Madysen put her hands on her hips too. “That’s where you’re wrong, Whit. I’ve seen the way he looks at Havyn. He cares about her. He cares about all of us, and I refuse to believe anything different.” She stood with her jaw set. “Besides, you didn’t hear him offer to sacrifice his own salary so that we could pay the workers. I doubt a man that was only interested in taking the farm from us would do something like that.”

  “Maddy—”

  “I’m not finished. The contract is in place, whether you like it or not. I believe Granddad drew it up because he was worried about us if something happened to him. I’ve seen nothing out of John but good. So don’t be so quick to judge him.”

  Whitney paced a few steps to the left and then returned. Her gaze hit Havyn like a branding iron to her soul. “Why are you so quiet, Havyn? Why aren’t you defending John, like Maddy? We’ve all noticed the looks and sparks between you two. If you fancy him, then why aren’t you saying anything?”

  Heart pounding, she swallowed. “Because . . . I don’t know what to say.”

  “That’s a bad excuse and you know it.” Whitney pushed for a reaction.

  Like she always did.

  “No . . . it’s not. I’m thinking about it. I’ve read the contract. And I refuse to charge John with an offense before I’ve heard his side of the story.”

  Whitney narrowed her eyes. “Fine. Go talk to him, then. He’s not going to deny it.”

  “Of course he’s not going to deny it—his signature is on the page.” Did Whit think she was stupid? Heat crept up her neck, but now was not the time to lose her temper. “But you’re both right . . . I like John. I have for a while now. I just don’t know what to do with this, and I don’t intend to overreact or lose my temper before I know the facts.”

  Whitney’s eyes sparked.

  Uh-oh.

  “I’m not overreacting or losing my temper, and I resent the notion that you think that! I’m not attacking John just because you like him—”

  Havyn stopped her cold. “No. But you are attacking him.”

  Her older sister came close and took her hands. The contract crinkled. This time her voice was calm. “Only because I care about you. And I care about this farm.”

  Havyn squeezed her sister’s hands. “We all do, Whit, but Granddad obviously knew what he was doing. I think you’re still upset that he didn’t put you in charge. Maybe that’s why you’re attacking John.”

  Whitney pulled her hands free. “Maybe you’re too blinded by your feelings to see the truth.”

  “Maybe you both need to stop before you say things that you’ll regret.” Madysen placed herself between Havyn and Whitney. “We need to pray for guidance on this matter. If Havyn wants to talk to John, then she has that right. But we don’t need to get rid of him. Granddad hired him. And obviously saw the need to legally protect us with that contract. So until he wakes up, we shouldn’t override his decisions. This is his farm and we would do well to remember that.”

  Whitney stomped toward her dogs. “But what if he doesn’t wake up, Maddy?” The dogs’ yipping grew to a roar and they started jumping and trying to get her attention. “One of us has to think clearly. I don’t want this man stealing the farm that is rightfully ours!”

  Was that John’s intention? No. He didn’t come here with any knowledge of the farm. There had to be another explanation.

  There had to be.

  Or her heart would shred into a million pieces.

  An entire day had passed and John hadn’t spoken to any of the Powell women. Not that they had avoided him, but he’d made sure to give them plenty of space. He’d rummaged around in the kitchen when they weren’t around and found enough leftovers to get by. Then he’d worked. A lot. And waited for the moment when Havyn would give him a look that showed him she knew.

  So far, it hadn’t happened.

  And that was torture!

  What if she despised him for what he’d done?

  John shook his head. Best to keep his mind on the work. Though he still hadn’t paid the workers, several of the native workers had asked for time off. It was the traditional period for seal hunting, and although the influx of people to the area had caused the native men to have to go farther to find the animals, they still needed time to stock up their families’ food supplies.

  Now was as good a time as any to give them what they asked for. Especially with the financial state of things.

  Earlier, he’d worked up a schedule to allow for the men to alternate their hunts. That would allow him to get the milking done and save the farm some money at the same time. Next the salmon would be running, and he could offer the same kind of schedule.

  Whitney had made it clear they would need salmon for her dogs, as well as for their own food supplies. Not that she would be happy if he did anything to help her.

  The Powell sisters’ different personalities were a wonder. Where one was fiercely independent, another was beautifully merciful.

  They might look a good deal alike, but they were each unique. With strong personalities, and a million good qualities. Any man would be blessed to partner with one of them. The fact that Chuck had offered the contract to him was a great compliment, but John doubted that the Powell sisters saw it that way. Or that they realized their value. And now . . .

  He might not ever have the chance to show them. Especially Havyn.

  Enough! He grabbed a shovel.

  With the first two workers gone on their hunt, John had to muck out the milking barn. And it was quite a job. The backbreaking work took hours that he normally would have had for the long list of other things he needed to do.

  Unfortunately, all that work gave him too much time to think.

  About Havyn.

  What she was doing? Had Whitney told her sisters about the contract, as she’d threatened? What must they all think of him now?

  Lord, should I have not signed that contract? Was it the wrong decision? I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I didn’t come here to stay. You know that. But these women don’t. And I’m afraid they’ll hate me.

  Especially Havyn.

  The only thing that encouraged him this morning was the fact that Mrs. Powell told him Chuck had opened his eyes for a bit. There still didn’t seem to be any communication or movement, but every little bit had to count. Perhaps the man could make a full recovery. But what if he didn’t? Not only that, but with the shortage of workers, John could no longer help Mrs. Powell care for her father’s private needs. No doubt that created difficulties for the poor woman.

  As he shook his head of the doubts and gloomy thoughts, his mind drifted back to Havyn. She’d been a light in his life. Ever since their little chat, he’d found her singing to her chickens in the afternoons. At least . . . until today.

  Standing up straight, he stretched out his back. This job was grueling. Maybe he could reassign this chore to one of the other workers. Not that he was afraid of hard work, but at this rate, he was working about sixteen hours a day. Add in the time it took to eat and then to get cleaned up at the end of the day, and it was time to go to bed so he could start over again the next day.

  Wasn’t a good schedule for getting to know someone. Much less, to court someone. Not that Havyn felt the same way that he did. At least, not anymore.

  What was he thinking? It was awfully selfish of him to even have thoughts about her at a time like this. So why couldn’t he get her off his mind?

  “John?” Mrs. Powell’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

  He strode to the entrance of the barn. “How may I help you?”

  “I wanted to speak to you, and the girls are with Papa at the moment, singing to him, hoping that it will help him to wake up again.”

  “You don’t get much time to yourself right now.” He leaned on the shovel he’d been using and studied her. She looked . . . pale. “I’m sure it’s difficult to carry the burden of caring for a loved one by yourself.” Even though Whitney said she didn’t want to bu
rden her mother by sharing about the contract, there was a chance she’d told her anyway. “What do you need to speak to me about? Is everything all right?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and began to walk around the front of the barn. “Yes. I mean, they’re not because Papa’s laid up, but you know what I mean. My intent was to thank you for coming at the time when you did. Had you not been here when he collapsed . . .” She choked on the last word. “I’m sorry. But had you not been there, I don’t know what we would have done. It’s just like God supplying the ram for Abraham and Isaac. Not that we want to sacrifice you.” She shook her head. “I’m making a mess of this because I’m so weary. The girls are wonderful at helping around the farm—I know you know that—but they couldn’t do the job that you are doing right now. No matter what Whitney thinks she’s capable of.” A smile crossed the woman’s face. “We’re a stubborn lot. And my girls are willing to do whatever it takes, but I hope you understand . . .”

  “Ma’am, there’s no need to thank me, nor do you have to explain. It’s an honor to work on this farm. I’ve got a great deal of respect for your father. And for each of your daughters.”

  She reached out and touched his arm. “John. Please. Let me thank you. Things haven’t run this smoothly since Papa was much younger. What I’m trying to say is that I haven’t had to worry about things getting done. The finances are a bit difficult to deal with, but you have helped so much.” This time she started crying. In earnest.

  Sobs shook her shoulders.

  What should he do? How did he comfort a woman who was unsure whether her father—her rock—would live or die? “Mrs. Powell. I’m sorry. I wish I could do more.”

  “You’ve done a lot already, John. That’s what I’m trying to say—even though I’m flubbing it up.” She pulled a hankie from the waist of her skirt and dabbed at her eyes and cheeks. “All of this was to say thank-you. That’s it. I just wanted you to know how much we appreciate you, and Papa told me several times that he thought of you as family.”

  That made John smile. “Thank you. That means a great deal. Nonno talked of Mr. Bundrant quite often. Apparently they were each other’s sanity while they worked in the mines in Cripple Creek. I’m just sad that I never had the chance to meet any of you before now.”