The younger boy had finally gotten up and ever so carefully folded the blanket over his sister’s body, tucking it around her as though to keep her warm. He had then set to work helping Jason and his older brother douse the fire, tears still streaming quietly down his cheeks. He wasn’t strong enough to carry more than half a bucket at a time, but Jason could see the determination on his face and understood his need to help put out the fire.
The looks on the young boys’ faces took Jason back in time. There was no fire in his memories and the corpse was that of his mother, not his sister, but the similarities were there. He wanted to pull the boys into a comforting embrace but knew that comfort from a stranger was not what they needed now. They needed their parents.
He approached the couple, who sat lifelessly staring into nothingness all around them. Hat twisting in his hands, he spoke. “Sir, ma’am, my name is Jason Jordan. I work for the Widow Trent just down the way a spell. I’ll take you and the boys to her place where you will at least be warm. From there you can make the decisions you’ll need to be making in the coming days. I’m...” He struggled for the right words to convey his sympathy to them. “I’m so sorry.” It didn’t express the depths of his feelings, but what else was there to say?
Neither spoke for a moment, but then the woman’s eyes darted to the blanket. “We can’t just leave her here.”
Her words were so low Jason almost missed them, but he reassured her quickly, “No, ma’am. We won’t leave her here. If you’ll just come with me, I’ve sent your boys in to hitch up the wagon.”
The father didn’t say anything but stood to his feet, helping his wife up. Then he shuffled toward the barn, with a final glance over his shoulder at the smoldering heap of charred rubble. The mother stood unmoving, her eyes on her husband’s back, an unfathomable pain etched into her face.
Jason left the yard and headed back to where he had left his captive.
Gone! He glanced hurriedly around but knew there was no way of finding the man in the dark. On closer inspection Jason could see scarring on the bark where he had lashed the man’s hands to the trunk, but there was something else as well. There was a thin vertical mark from a knife being inserted under the ropes. His prisoner had been cut free.
He stood for a moment debating what to do. It was too dark to track the man and whoever had rescued him now. He would have to come back tomorrow and see what he could find. He didn’t like the fact that the man was gone, for he definitely had some questions that he wanted answers to, but there was nothing he could do about it. He would simply have to wait.
Mounting up, he headed for the ranch, hoping he wasn’t destroying any of the tracks he would need to follow on the morrow.
When they reached Nicki’s ranch, the sky was just beginning to lighten.
Jason saw to it that the family was ensconced in the shelter of the bunkhouse. He instructed Conner to put more wood on the fire and put on some coffee. Then, after quickly changing out of his soiled shirt, he headed for the house to give Nicki the sad news of the neighboring family’s tragedy and see about moving them to the soddy, which would be much warmer.
Ron stepped out the door after him. “Jason? What happened?”
Jason shrugged. “I smelled smoke and followed it. They were all just sitting there.” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “In a circle around the little girl. I stayed. Put out the fire just to have something to do. It was already too late when I got there. Looked like it was set on purpose. Who are they?”
“The Jeffries.” Ron shook his head. “Why would someone want to set their place on fire? They just had their homestead. A hundred and sixty acres. That’s it. A hundred and sixty. You sure it looked like arson?”
Jason nodded, trying to stretch the kink out of his neck. “Not only arson. Murder.”
The sky gleamed with the first stages of pale morning light when Nicki awoke. She glanced frantically around for her bucket, realizing even as she did so that she had forgotten to put it by her bed the night before.
Her long nightgown momentarily tangled up her feet and, throwing back the covers, she almost tripped over Diablo as she hurried out the door. Her bare feet stung painfully as she rushed through the snow to the edge of the creek but she paid no heed, the queasiness in her stomach taking momentary precedence. She fell to her knees and held her hair out of her face with one hand as she lost the contents of her stomach.
“Lord,” she groaned the prayer in Spanish, “why can’t I seem to kick this flu? I am going to need all my strength to travel with Sawyer to California and find Mama and Papa.” On the heels of this prayer came the realization that she had no faith that Jason was going to be able to save her ranch…or that he was even coming back. Her heart sank. Much as she wanted to stay here, she knew that was an impossible hope.
Her stomach momentarily settled, she moved up-current a little ways and scooped a handful of the icy water to rinse her mouth and wash her face. A thought seeped into her consciousness. Her head jerked up, and she stared at the far bank. What if I’m not sick? She braced her hands on her knees and shook her head. I didn’t have one day of sickness, carrying Sawyer.
She sat still in concentrated thought. It couldn’t be. She mentally calculated. Her shoulders slumped. She did the math again. Yes. It could.
I can’t do this, Lord. Not without support. She suddenly felt helplessly inadequate and underqualified. The pink sunrise glinted off the snowbank across the creek as she knelt, staring at nothing in particular.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff they comfort me.”
The verse came to her as though whispered on the gentle wind that had begun to blow.
Bowing her head, she gave her burden to her loving, Heavenly Father. Father, You have never yet let me down. I don’t understand why You let some things happen, but I know that You always work things out for the good of those who love You. Help me through this, Lord. I’m scared. I was daunted by the thought of having to raise one child alone, but now two? Thank You for Your promise to be there for me. Help me to keep my eyes on You, Lord.
When her prayer ended she felt lighter. Somehow she knew she would make it through with God’s help.
Suddenly she felt stinging pain from the freezing snow on her bare feet and knees and pushed herself up, spinning to rush back into the house. She collided with the firm, solid chest of a man. A terrified squeak escaped her mouth. She had not heard him approach because of the rushing creek, and it took her a moment to realize who he was in the pale morning light.
Jason took her gently by the upper arms and set her back away from him just enough so he could look down at her. Her hands rested against his chest as she studied his face. At the concerned look in his eyes, she swallowed, willing the desire curling through her to ease. His week-long growth of beard only added to his rugged good looks. His warm hands on her arms sent little streaks of fiery heat across her shoulders and up her neck into her hairline.
“Do you have to always sneak up on me?” She tossed the words in his face, her anger stemming more from her physical reaction to him than anything else. He blinked at her, and her tone gentled a little as she hastened, “You were supposed to be here the day before yesterday.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. It wouldn’t do to have him thinking she had missed him.
But seeming to ignore her comment, he angled a glance to where she had been kneeling in the snow, then looked deeply into her face with a worried frown. “Are you all right?”
Under her long, floor-length nightgown Nicki began a little dance, picking up first one foot and then another, attempting to warm her now aching toes. “I’m just fine.”
But her teeth chattered, causing him to step back and look down the length of her, his eyes widening in alarm. “You don’t have any shoes on, do you?”
She started to answer, but all that came out was a startled gasp, for before she c
ould form a reply, he had her scooped up into his arms and was heading for the house.
As soon as her feet were solidly on the floor, she stepped away from his unsettling touch. “What were you doing out there so early?” she snapped. Even she recognized the irritation in her voice. Este hombre! This man! He doesn’t show up for days, and then he sneaks up on me at first light! I have a right to be cranky. Moving to the lamp, she held a match to the wick, her hands trembling with chill.
Jason pulled a warm shawl from a hook above the bed. Easing her into a chair at the table, he handed it to her. “I just got back about fifteen minutes ago. I was headed to the house to talk to you when I saw you run out and head for the creek.”
He glanced at Diablo, who had stood to his overly large feet and was stretching, his hindquarters poking up in the air, his front paws pushed out before him. “Where did you get the pup? He’s cute.”
“William gave him to Sawyer when he came back from Portland.”
Jason’s mouth pressed into a thin line as he set about searching for coffee ingredients. “You’re still not feeling well? How long has this been going on?”
Nicki didn’t reply. His tone alerted her to the fact that something was wrong. The shawl now wrapped around her shoulders, she brushed a stray curl of hair out of her eyes and simply watched him.
When she didn’t speak, he gave her a searching look. “How long?”
Still she made no reply. She tore her gaze from his and fussed with the shawl. Somehow she knew that if she told him she’d been sick since John’s funeral, he would overreact. And she certainly couldn’t just out and tell him the truth about her condition. It wasn’t seemly.
She grew more annoyed as she felt herself blush at the mere thought. Why did her emotions always betray her whenever this man was present?
She tossed him a glance to see if he had noticed, and his upraised eyebrow told her he had. Turning back to the stove, he put the pot on to boil. Then, coming to stand before her, he planted himself like a grizzly bear guarding its den, his head just brushing the ceiling. He fixed her with a steely blue gaze and repeated, “How long?”
She knew he wasn’t going to budge until she answered. “I’m not sick.” She skewered him with a glare. “And while we’re interrogating people, what are you hiding from me?”
He snorted, ignoring her question. “I just saw you lose last night’s dinner in the creek. You were so sick that you didn’t even bother to put shoes on before you ran outside.” A sudden pained look crossed his face and he squatted down before her, resting his hands on her knees and looking directly into her face. “Nicki, are you all right?” It was the first time he had called her by her name and she liked it. Too much.
The touch of his hands sent her reeling, and she stood quickly to her feet, almost knocking Jason over backwards. But he was quick to recover. Standing, up, he folded his arms over the broad expanse of his chest and gave her a look that told her he wasn’t going anywhere until she explained.
She tried to smile, tried to reassure him. But her senses were swaying, and she couldn’t remember any English. Her heart couldn’t take the pulse-quickening scrutiny anymore. Looking away, she squeezed the words out of her tightened throat in a whisper. “Sí. Estoy bien.”
Suddenly she realized how much it meant to her that he would worry about her. When was the last time someone showed this much concern for me? Not since Mama. It wasn’t only his physical looks that attracted her to this man. It was his heart. He had come here to help her without even knowing her. He stayed even when it was obvious there was danger in doing so. He had insisted there would be a way even when she had been ready to give up. And now he was worried about her. Turning back, she looked into his anxious face once more.
God had sent Jason here to help her at just the right time. Thankfulness washed over Nicki. And along with the thankfulness came a desire stronger than any she had ever felt. She wanted to lose herself in the strength of his arms. To tell him all that was on her mind and let him advise her on what she should do.
Jason cocked an eyebrow, not having understood her words.
Momentarily giving in to her heart, Nicki leaned toward him, resting a hand on his cheek. “I am fine. Stop worrying about me.”
He looked deeply into her eyes, as though trying to assure himself that she spoke the truth, his bristly jaw tensing under the gentle pressure of her palm. She let her hand drop, but Jason caught it in the warmth of his own and Nicki’s body trembled with the fervency of the emotions rushing through her.
Jason’s gaze dropped to her mouth, and Nicki’s eyes widened at the blatant desire she saw reflected in their depths. Sucking in a short breath, she stepped back quickly, looking down, but he did not release her hand. Nicki knew she was on dangerous ground. She didn’t know if she would have the emotional fortitude to resist him. Or even if she wanted to. His thumb trailed a hot path across the back of her hand, and her eyes shot up to his. His voice was thick as he asked, “Why do I get the feeling that you’re not telling me everything?”
“I am not sick, Señor.” She deliberately inserted the formality to remind him, and herself of their relationship and tipped her head, eyes still on his face, as she gently tried to extract her hand from his.
But he tightened his grip, a slow grin starting in his eyes, then spreading to the corners of his mouth. He spoke in a whisper. “You are a stubborn woman, Mrs. Trent.”
She smiled slightly and responded in the same low voice, “Somehow I don’t think I am the only stubborn one in this room, Señor.”
“Jason,” he reminded softly. Reaching out with his free hand, he tucked a curl behind her ear, his thumb tarrying on her cheekbone.
As his thumb traced a searing course from her cheek downward and then gently trailed across her mouth, she swallowed convulsively, unable to form his name on her lips and correct her deliberate mistake. The heat she could see blazing in his eyes rendered her speechless, churning her insides like fresh skimmed cream.
The coffee pot boiled over, hissing and sputtering. Jason flashed an irritated look at the stove and slowly pulled away from her, leaving her suddenly cold again. Taking the pot off the stove, Jason set it down heavily and leaned his fists onto her little table, hunching into his shoulders as though the weight of the world rested there.
She pulled the shawl tighter and waited for him to speak. Something was troubling him.
“I have some bad news.” He looked up at her with pain-filled eyes. So…he was going to tell her there was no way to save the ranch.
“The Jeffries’ cabin burnt down last night.”
Nicki’s heart plummeted as she sucked in a gasp.
“That’s not the worst of it. The little girl was...she was in the house and didn’t make it.”
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus! The prayer filled her mind even as she sat heavily at the table.
“Brenda was just here last night.” Tears coursed down her cheeks. “They must come here. I will make room for them. Will you go get them? Bring them here? Dear God. Brenda...how did it happen?”
“They’re here already, out in the bunkhouse. I was coming to tell you when...” He gestured to the creek outside and Nicki understood. If she were, in fact, sick it wouldn’t be good for the Jeffries to stay here.
“I’m not sick, Jason.” He glanced at her sharply and she looked away. “Not in the way you think. The Jeffries will be fine here. Please show them in.”
“Nicki—”
Suddenly Sawyer sat up with a whimper. “Mama?” The word turned into a sob as he saw that she was not in the bed with him where she usually was when he awoke. “Mama!”
Nicki was already moving before the second cry had even formed on his lips. “I’m right here, honey. ¿Cómo estas tú?” She picked the boy up, cuddling him to her chest.
Sawyer didn’t answer her question but merely let out a contented little sigh as he laid his head on her shoulder and nestled closer to her, already back to sleep.
Nicki
met Jason’s eyes above the baby’s head. “Just give me a moment and then send them in.” She nodded to reassure him that he had done the right thing in bringing the Jeffries here.
Pushing his hat back on his head he moved out into the dawning day.
Sighing, she laid Sawyer back in the bed and quickly dressed, praying that she would have the words of comfort she needed for this family of friends.
13
The untouched coffee in the cups Nicki had poured for Brenda and Rolfe wasn’t even cold yet when horses thundered into the yard and Diablo started barking.
It was William.
Nicki moved to greet him, but he was already rushing toward the house. “Nicki! I was out riding early this morning when I smelled smoke and went to investigate. That couple that lived just a few miles down the road, their house is gone! Burnt to the ground! Have you—” He cut off as he stepped into the house and saw Brenda leaning dejectedly against the kitchen table. “Oh good, you’re here. When I couldn’t find anyone around the place, I feared the worst.” Silence filled the room. “You...is...is everyone alright?”
Nicki placed a hand on William’s arm, touched by his concern for these people he barely knew. “William.”
There was a note of warning in her voice as she turned him back toward the door, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Everyone’s all right, aren’t they?”
“William.” Nicki’s voice brought his eyes to her face and she nodded toward the door.
Outside, away from the family, she drew a shaky breath and spoke. “The Jeffries had a little girl, William. She was eight. And she was killed in the fire last night.”
William blanched and took a stumbling step backwards. “Dear God!”
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