High Country Bride

by Jillian Hart

  “Yes, I do. But then what do I do about yours?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see the concern on her pretty face. Yet even with his eyes closed, he could still see her wide caring eyes.

  “It would not be a real marriage,” he found himself saying, snapping open his eyes, because he found he did not want to look within, either. The fields of wheat beyond the fence waved gently in the breeze, graced with starshine. “You and your children would have security and I would…”

  No longer feel so alone. He hung his head, unable to say the words. Hoofbeats broke the stillness. Divine intervention. Grateful, Aiden moved away. “Just think on it some. Maybe you’ll get used to the idea. If you do, then let me know. I’d best go face up to Finn. He and I have a few scores to settle. Good night, Joanna.”

  She didn’t answer as he walked away. He knew he had surprised her, just as he’d surprised himself. When he glanced over his shoulder to check on her, she was still standing where he’d left her. He wanted to think it was surprise, anyway, and not shock at assuming she wouldn’t mind marrying a worn-out, average man like himself who was missing more than his heart.

  In retrospect, maybe he shouldn’t have asked his question. He’d proposed to her. Maybe a measure of how frozen he’d become was that he didn’t feel a thing about it. Not at all. In fact, every step he took away from her made him more like the night—full of shadows and without a speck of light.

  At least he wasn’t as far gone as Finn. He found his brother in the barn. All he had to do was to follow the noise, the muttering and the smell of cheap whiskey. Finn had lit a lantern at the end of the main aisle, and he didn’t look up as he knelt in the shadows loosening the cinch. The horses, in their stalls for the night, were agitated. Clyde’s skin was twitching.

  Aiden halted at his gate. “Easy, old fella. You know you’re safe here.”

  The gentle giant nickered low in his throat and leaned over the bars of his gate, seeking reassurance. Aiden rubbed the horse’s nose and ears while he watched his youngest brother heft the saddle from his horse’s back. A little rough, in his opinion. “Remember I bought that gelding. I see you treating him like that again, and you’ll be walking back and forth to town.”

  “Yeah? Go ahead and do it.” Finn tossed the saddle and blanket on the ground, his stance aggressive, his jaw jutting stubbornly. When he stood like that, he resembled Pa. “I’d like to see you try. I’m younger and I’m stronger.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure about that. I have sixty pounds on you and three inches. Add the fact that I’m not drunk, and I’m sure to be the winner.”

  Now that Clyde had settled, Aiden gave him a final pat and ambled down the aisle. “I told you how things were going to be if you wanted to live here. Staying away from the closest tavern would be one condition. Attending church every week would be another.”

  “So? Why should I go? I’ve been going since I was a kid. It’s not like that old minister is going to say anything I haven’t heard before. And neither are you.” Finn tossed down the bridle. “I saw you with her in the field when I was riding up. You two looked mighty cozy. She’s already got you holding her hand. Next thing you know, she’ll be—”

  “That’s enough.” Aiden didn’t want to hear it, whatever it was. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I saw plenty.”

  There was no reason for him to defend his behavior, and he wasn’t going to try. Aiden bent to grab the match tin from where it had been tossed onto the floor, with the dead match on top. He didn’t comment on that, either, mostly because he knew Finn well enough to know he had done it on purpose. He had a lot of anger about rules, even if they were only common sense.

  Sorrowful, that’s how he felt, for this boy in a man’s form who refused to grow up. Well, he would have to learn sometime. Aiden put the tin on a nearby shelf, close enough now to see the glaze of alcohol on his brother’s face and how clumsy he was as he fought with the latch and threw open the stall gate. It swung hard and banged against the wall. The noise startled the gelding and sent neighs of alarm through the barn.

  Finn swore at the horse, but Aiden was quick. He laid his hand on the old fellow’s jaw and cheek and talked him back into the stall. The gelding just needed a reassuring word and touch, and he was relieved to be back home in his stall. Aiden kept Finn in his sight as he closed and latched the gate. He saw the grimace his brother gave him before he lumbered drunkenly down the aisle.

  “Hey, Finn. Where are you going?”

  “To bed. I’m not in the mood for any of your grief, either. I don’t need a lecture.”

  That was a matter of opinion. Aiden crossed his arms over his chest. “You aren’t sleeping in my house.”

  “It’s my house, too.”

  “No it’s not.” He hated to do it. It killed him to do it. “I warned you, Finn. If you came home drunk, then you are off this property.”

  “You wouldn’t toss me off this place. Where am I going to sleep?”

  “That’s not my lookout. It’s yours.” Aiden gulped down enough air to force the next words out. “You’re a grown man. It’s time you started acting like one. Ma and Thad and I have done everything we can to help you get back on your feet after spending two years in prison.”

  “It wasn’t my fault.” Finn lashed out, just as he always did. “I didn’t know what I was doing. Even the judge agreed I didn’t know I took the blasted wrong horse from the hitching post. C’mon, Aiden—”

  Typical Finn. Arguing a point that had nothing to do with the real issue. “You were drunk then, and you’re drunk now. I won’t have it. If you want to throw away your life, then you do it somewhere that I can’t watch. I won’t be responsible for helping you do it.”

  “Fine. I’ll just take my horse—”

  “My horse. And anything you have in my house is what I bought you. That makes it mine.” Aiden wished his brother would see reason. He wished Finn would turn his life around. But he had to be tough about this. Finn’s future was at stake. He took a ragged breath; he dreaded what he had to say. “Start walking. You take nothing but the clothes on your back, same as when you got here.”

  “But what about—”

  “Don’t care.” He cut his brother off, tired of excuses, tired of everything. “I’ve got a ranch to run, crops to bring in and Ma to help support. You are not my responsibility. Now, go.”

  “I could fight you for the horse.”

  “You could, but let’s be clear. I won’t let you steal this horse. I have to think of his welfare, too. You won’t take good care of him. You don’t deserve him.”

  “I should have expected this from you.” Finn’s temper flared, predictably, turning now to blame whoever he could. “It’s that woman. You don’t want me around because—”

  “Go.” Aiden couldn’t stomach it. He took Finn by the shoulder and gave him a calculated shove. Not too hard, because Finn was much drunker than he thought, and he might fall and hurt himself, but hard enough to get him out of the barn. Aiden shut the door tight. “I want you gone, Finn. Don’t come back unless you will follow my rules.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t be back.” Rage now, and it was ugly. Aiden tried not to remember when Pa was like that, blaming Ma for bringing him down and his sons for being a burden to him. “It’s a sorry day when a man chooses a woman like her over his own brother.”

  Aiden clamped his jaw hard so he wouldn’t rise to Finn’s bait. Anger beat at him while he huffed in one breath after another, trying to keep control. He hated how his brother was living. He wished he could shake some sense into him. Prayer hadn’t helped. Talks with Pastor Hadly hadn’t helped. Not even Ma’s pleas to Finn had made a bit of difference in the end. Aiden had done all he could for the boy ever since he had come home last February. There was nothing more he could do.

  Now Finn was disparaging Joanna, getting in what licks he could as he staggered away. Aiden felt tired, deeply tired. Her words came back
to him as softly as the night breeze. Maybe now our fortunes will turn, and if it does, you are responsible. I will always be grateful for that.

  There was a difference he could make, if Joanna would let him.

  He followed the roll of the prairie past his house toward the shanty. Its small peaked roof was topped by the stars’ lush glow, and he thought of Joanna there. She was no longer in the field, at least that he could see. Was she thinking about him, too? Wondering about his proposal? Or was she not interested in marrying a washed-up man like him?

  He opened the barn door to give the horses the benefit of the breeze, sure now that Finn was gone. He was only a faint blur of movement far down the road. Another blink, and he’d disappeared.

  Watch over him, Lord. Wearily, Aiden headed back to the house through the grass, feeling as if the light could not touch him. It was as if night had fallen inside him, too.

  Chapter Nine

  “Ma! Look!” Daisy’s high sweet voice rose above the music of the wind and the whirring sound of the cutter. She held up a handful of cornflowers. “I want a purple necklace, please?”

  “All right. We can make it after we deliver this to Mr. McKaslin.” Wearily, Joanna checked over her shoulder. It had been a long, sleepless night and a hard morning of work. There was James, bringing up the rear, packing the ceramic water jug, which he had insisted on carrying. “Are you sure that isn’t too heavy for you?”

  “I’m sure, Ma.” James’s chin stuck out and he frowned with intense focus. He clutched the jug with both hands. “I’m gonna be a rancher one day with lots of mustangs. I’ll have to carry a lot of water. I’ll get to cut hay, too. There he is, Ma! It’s Mr. McKaslin!”

  Yes, it certainly was. He was up ahead, walking beside the horses as they pulled a mowing machine. He had the reins knotted loosely around his neck, and although his hat hid most of his face, his strong jaw was squared with concentration. Bits of grass floated in the air and clung to him like dust. Why did that only make him more handsome to her?

  She had no answer to that. Last night’s question had unsettled her. She’d had the good luck of avoiding him at breakfast, and had left his and Finn’s food in the warmer. He and his brother must have eaten quickly and headed out to their work in the fields, because when she came in later to clean up the kitchen, the tea had gone cold. All morning she had been safely in the house, cleaning away, but now there was no avoiding him. Her feet seemed to drag with every step she took through the sweet prairie grasses.

  How was she going to face him? She would have to look him in the eye and know that he’d offered to marry her out of charity. Pity. A sense of duty. And that made her feel two inches tall.

  If only there was a way to leave the basket without meeting up with him. With any luck he would keep right on working and miss seeing her entirely. She could leave the food on the fence post and leave. They wouldn’t have to talk.

  Luck wasn’t with her. Aiden spotted her. Even across the expanse of the field, she could feel the impact of his gaze. Not full of pity for her, as she expected, but as stoic as the ground at her feet.

  He chirruped and the big horses stopped. The cutter’s blades went silent. Her pulse began to thrum in her ears and she went hollow with dread. She watched the capable way he unwound the reins and patted the horses before he ambled through the fallen stalks of mown hay.

  All night she’d been up, her mind whirling. What if she turned down Aiden’s offer? Did that mean it would be best if she left sooner rather than later? Even if she had some wages in hand, would the money last long enough for her to find another job? And if she did, what would it be? Without a doubt, she would be cooking or cleaning for someone else. And if that were the case, then why not stay? Staying might be better for the children.

  If only that was all she had to consider. She remembered how Aiden had caught the eye of several women in church on Sunday. Not that she blamed them one bit for being sweet on him. No, she thought as he stalked toward her. He was more than simply good-looking. When he walked, he radiated strength. When he studied her, as he came to a stop before her, he radiated kindness. What a combination.

  “That basket is a welcome sight.” He broke the silence between them. The way he rubbed the back of his neck might be a sign he was as uncomfortable as she was. “Seems I’ve worked up quite an appetite.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I brought lunch early, because I need to head over to Noelle’s.” She stared down at the basket. It was safer looking at the wicker top than at his guarded eyes. “I assumed you and Finn would be together. If he’s working in another field, I could take his share out to him.”

  “Finn is gone.” He looked past her toward the house, and then out at the western horizon, where a few lazy clouds were gathering. “He left last night.”

  “Left?” So that was why there had been a lot of breakfast leftovers. She had assumed Finn might have been feeling poorly this morning. “But he’ll be coming back?”

  “That’s up to him.” Aiden swept off his hat and pulled his handkerchief out of his back pocket to wipe the grit from his face. He said nothing more, standing like a giant with the sun at his back and the deep blue sky stretched over him like a dream.

  “I brought your water, sir.” James had finally caught up and lugged the container to Aiden. He held it out carefully with both hands. “It’s still real cold.”

  The man hesitated, studying the boy quietly before he took the jug. “That’s real fine. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Can I go pet the horses?” So much need in those pleading eyes. So much more in those words than the question.

  The poor boy, wanting approval from the man. Looking for a father. Joanna felt her anxiety slip away. And poor Aiden, trying not to think of the son he’d lost as he set eyes on the boy. Sadness tugged at her soul, making her helpless to do more than put her hand on James’s small shoulder. “Come, let’s you and I go look at the horses together while Aiden cools down. Daisy, are you coming?”

  “Yes. And my flowers, Ma.”

  “I haven’t forgotten, baby.” Every fiber of Joanna’s being was aware of Aiden. Last night stood between them as unmistakably as the sun-baked earth at their feet. She felt small—very small—as she set the basket into the soft grass and walked away from him. If only she could walk away from the memory of his proposal as easily, but, no, it loomed like a weight on her shoulders.

  Did he think she was the type of woman who ingratiated herself to a man, cooking and cleaning for him, making strawberry pie for his family, so that he might see how handy a wife she would make him?

  You know that’s not what he thinks, Joanna. She kept her back to him, walking steadily after James toward the standing horses.

  “Ma! He likes me. See?”

  Joanna blinked, pulled from her thoughts. There was James, alive with excitement, while the gray-whiskered giant fondly nibbled his hair. James laughed, simply, easily, without a care. He was like a whole different boy. He held out his hand, still laughing, as the horse stopped nibbling and snorted into his palm.

  “Me, too!” Daisy raced up, her bare feet pounding on the hard earth.

  Joanna reached out for the Clydesdale’s bridle bits, but he placidly turned in his collar to give the little girl a snort, too, so Joanna settled for patting his velvety neck. The second horse was as gently tempered. The two were gruff and imposing looking, just like their master, with hearts of gold.

  Boots crackled in the grass behind her. “You needn’t have any worries around these fellas. We’ve had them since I was a boy, and I’ve never seen either of them startle or work up a temper about anything. Not even a rattler, once, that came out of the grass at them. Clyde just tossed him out of the way and kept on pulling the plow. He didn’t hurt him, either, just stunned that snake so that he was too afraid to move. A good part of an hour passed before he slinked away.”

  “That is a good horse,” Joanna praised, glad to know it. “They seem to like kids.”

>   “They watched the three of us grow up. Finn was just about as little as your girl there. Clyde took to watching over him like a papa. No need to worry if Finn was off getting into trouble. The horse would give a sharp whinny, stomp out of the field and go after him.”

  She couldn’t think of a thing to say to that. She had so many thoughts bubbling below the surface, she didn’t know where to start. She had to turn down his offer. She had learned the hard way she had to rely on herself. That sooner or later a man let you down. She’d seen it happen to her ma, and her own marriage had been one heartbroken disappointment after another.

  No, it was best she stand on her own feet. Joanna drew herself up, her decision made. And yet there he was, like the salt of the earth. When she looked at him with her heart, she saw more than his goodness. She could see her dreams: a stable life for her children. Security for them. They would never have to live out of a wagon again.

  How could she not accept his offer? Worse, how could she?

  “Here, I want you to take this.” He pulled a handful of coins from his pocket and shook them around to count them. Five dollars. “You’ll be driving through town. On your way back through, I would like you to stop and do some shopping. That money is just in case. I’ll try to drop by and put your name on my account, but I can’t say for sure if I’ll make it before you do. I plan on stopping by the church to chat with the minister later today, and there’s no judging how long that’ll take.”

  “About your brother?”

  His throat worked and he looked away.

  He was more upset than he was letting on, she realized, and that came as no surprise to her. Was he regretting last night? Did he wish he could take back his offer? Her stomach coiled up into a worried ball. Was it his question last night that had changed things between them? Or was it her silence that answered his question?

  “I’ll be glad to stop by Lawson’s store and do your shopping.” She had time enough to make a list before she left for Noelle’s. “What do you need?”