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 poure
d 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!”
Nicki grasped his arm to steady him.
“Dear Jesus!” His eyes glazed, and he stared at the door to the soddy, horror etched into his face.
He’s praying? Maybe he does know the Lord, after all. What a kind man to be so affected by the news of their loss.
“I’ll get you some coffee.” She ducked back into the house. When she re-emerged, William was trembling from head to toe and staring vacantly across the yard.
Jason approached. He had been to the bunkhouse for a shave, she noted. “Everything all right?” Concern edged his voice as he eyed William.
“I was just telling William about the Jeffries’ loss.” She pressed the hot cup into William’s hands.
Jason eyed the man, taking in the ashen color of his face and then looked at Nicki. “How are they? Did you get them to eat anything yet?”
Nicki shook her head. “They are still in shock.”
He nodded, prodding the snow with the toe of his boot. “Find out where they want to bury her, and Conner and I will dig the grave.”
She nodded, resting a hand momentarily on his arm before she headed back into the house.
Nicki tried to ease Brenda’s sorrow the only way she knew how, with an embrace accompanied by prayer. Tears stung her eyes. This was exactly the way May had comforted her only weeks ago after John’s death. Brenda’s trembling lessened as she leaned into Nicki’s embrace, and for that Nicki was thankful.
They had buried little May earlier. It had taken Jason, Ron, and Conner all day to dig the grave in the frozen soil. She had stood arm in arm with Brenda while Ron had said the words. And when they had lowered May into the hole, Nicki had felt the tremor that raced through Brenda’s arm.
Now they were all back in the soddy, and there was no room to move.
Tilly had come and volunteered to take Sawyer home with her for a couple of days, which Nicki was deeply thankful for. But all the rest of them were crowded into the warmth of the little house. Conner and Ron leaned against the wall in the kitchen area. Rolf, William, and Jason were seated at the table, and the boys sat bleary-eyed on the bed in the corner, Diablo curled up between them.
Nicki had been supporting Brenda’s weight for a good half-hour and was beginning to feel the strain in her lower back. She shifted her feet.
Jason must have noticed, for he suddenly stood. “Mrs. Jeffries,” his voice was soft, “you’ve been standing for a mighty long time. Why don’t you come sit for a spell?”
Brenda moved out of Nicki’s embrace, woodenly taking the chair Jason offered her, and Nicki took a couple of steps, trying to work some of the kinks out of her back. It took every ounce of her willpower not to rub the small of her back. Yet she would have stood there for the rest of the night if Brenda had needed her to.
Jason poured Brenda a steaming cup of coffee, and Nicki was pleased to see that Brenda sipped it without seeming to notice.
Silence hung heavy in the room. Nicki had just started to tuck in Bobby, who had fallen asleep on the bed, when William’s angry voice broke the stillness.
“Jordan, where were you last night when this fire started?”
Jason, who was just refilling his own cup of coffee, stopped mid-pour, blinking at William.
Nicki gasped and stood erect. “William! What are you saying?” Every eye in the room suddenly fixed on Jason.
“I’m saying Jordan, here, only rode into town at the first of last week! I want to know where this stranger was when the house of one of our own burnt to the ground, killing their little girl. I took a good look at that house after the funeral today. The back of the place burnt hotter than the front, and we all know what that means. That fire was set.”
Nicki swallowed. Could Jason have done such a thing? He had told her that before he came to the Lord, he’d attempted to kill a man. How much did she really know about him, anyway?
“How ’bout it, Jordan?” William snarled. “Care to tell us where you were?”
Jason quietly set the coffee pot back on the stove, his thoughts racing with the speed of a wild stallion. His eyes automatically sought out Nicki’s, and air left his lungs at the doubt and confusion he saw on her face. He could almost hear the thoughts running through her mind. He had been gone longer than their agreed amount of time. He hadn’t said a word to her about the horses since he’d gotten back; there hadn’t been time. By her expression, she was wondering how well she really knew him. After all, William had been her friend and closest neighbor for the past three years, not to mention the fact that the man had been courting her since the death of her husband.
He turned from her bewildered face and looked at William, angry with himself for underestimating the man.
He had taken a look around the Jeffries’ place for himself after the funeral this afternoon and what he had seen had chilled him.
A single set of tracks led away from the back of the cabin and directly into the brush he had traveled through the night before on his way to the fire. Could the sound he had heard in the brush and attributed to a scared animal have been the arsonist himself? The tracks had led him to the tree where he had tied his captive the night before, so whoever had set the fire had also loosed his prisoner. Had it been William? But why would William want to burn down the Jeffries’ cabin? It didn’t make sense unless—
“Jason?” Nicki interrupted his thoughts.
He turned his eyes back to her, taking a sip of his coffee and trying to remain calm. He wanted to reassure her, to tell her about the herd of horses that was going to save her ranch. But he knew he couldn’t do that in front of William. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the man could not be trusted.
“He come an’ helped us,” Brenda spoke up. “He come and put out the fire.”
William snorted. “How convenient that he just happened to be in that area at the right time!”
Jason made no reply, knowing that anything he said in this atmosphere would only sound like a lie.
“Ron,” William spoke again, “did you smell any smoke from where you were working?”
Ron’s lips thinned as though he didn’t like being roped into William’s accusations. He glanced at Jason for a moment but finally shook his head no.
“Conner?”
“No.” Conner’s answer was also reluctant.
“Yet Jordan here, who works the same spread as both of you, just happened to smell the smoke and run to the rescue. Isn’t that nice?” William’s meaning was clear.
Rolf and Brenda stared at him, questions in their eyes.
“I didn’t start that fire,” Jason said. The words sounded empty even in his own ears.
William turned to Rolf. “Do you know this man from somewhere, Mr. Jeffries? Does he have some reason to want to hurt you
or your family?”
Rolf studied him, then shook his head. “I don’t…I don’t think so.”
Suddenly, there was the sound of horses in the yard outside. William smiled faintly, and Jason had the feeling that a noose was being tightened around his neck. “I sent one of my men into Farewell Bend for the sheriff. I believe he’s had a look around the Jeffries’ place. That must be him. Why don’t we all go out and see what he has to say?”
Jason swallowed. Whatever the sheriff had to say, he had a feeling it wouldn’t be good.
Ron’s head was reeling as he headed out the door. Could he have misjudged the man so badly? He had liked Jason the moment he laid eyes on him. Had he really set that fire? On the other hand, William Harpster had always made the hair on the back of Ron’s neck stand up like a dog on alert, and Ron would be the first to admit that the man generally put him in a fighting mood. But would he stoop so low as to accuse someone of arson and murder without proof?
The memory of what Jason had said just after he came back with the Jeffries flashed through Ron’s mind. “Not only arson. Murder.” Jason’s face had been troubled. Had he meant to set the fire but not to kill the little girl?
Ron glanced at Jason again. The man seemed calm enough. Maybe too calm. He stood now with his thumbs casually hooked in his belt loops, waiting to see what the sheriff would have to say. Ron wondered what would be forthcoming.
Sheriff Dan Watts was an older man with a drooping walrus mustache that hung down on either side of his mouth below his chin. He had the habit of twisting the ends with his thumb and forefinger as he talked, and he was doing that even now.
The sheriff addressed Rolf and Brenda, “Sir, ma’am. I’m right sorry to hear ’bout yer place and yer girl.”
Rolf and Brenda nodded.
High Desert Haven (The Shepherd's Heart) Page 16
