Linda Ford - [Three Brides, Three Cowboys 02]

by The Cowboy Father

  One thing only. And it was all that mattered. It was best for Ellie.

  Louisa too, appeared to need time to pull herself together after Miss Ross’s surprise suggestion.

  He’d been awed by Louisa’s passion that Ellie keep up with her classmates. And more than a little moved by it. If he were honest, he’d felt just a tiny bit guilty that he was concerned solely with her happiness. For a fleeting moment, it seemed almost irresponsible.

  But he had his head back where it belonged after the brief period of confusion. Squarely on his shoulders. He would not let anything Louisa said or did confound him again. “Looks like we’re stuck working together.” He excused the roughness of his words and his voice on the need to keep boundaries firmly in place. He wanted only one thing from Louisa—help teaching Ellie, because he now realized how important it was for her to keep up with her studies. “So let’s figure out a way to make this work.” He headed for the outside door, Louisa at his side.

  “How do you suggest we do that?”

  “I suppose we need to plan our approach, as Miss Ross suggested.” But when and where? “I don’t like leaving Auntie May to watch Ellie too long.” Ellie clearly didn’t appreciate it either, but he refrained from saying so, still feeling as if he was somehow lax in wanting to keep her happy. “It’s too big a chore. Besides, Auntie May has enough to do.”

  “What with feeding her cats and all.” Her dry tone informed him that Louisa teased, and he chuckled. His tension dissipated in his amusement.

  “I fear she will fall over one of them and injure herself.” He’d meant to be teasing too, but realized it was a deep-seated worry. He didn’t care to lose any more of his family due to an accident.

  “I don’t think you need to fear for her safety. She seems to know how to avoid them when she’s walking. You know, I’ve always admired how sure-footed she was.”

  “Comes from dancing around cats. Keeps her nimble.” He did a little side jump to illustrate, bringing a merry laugh to Louisa’s lips. He tucked a smile into the corner of his mind, pleased to have amused her.

  Shoot. How did he get so far off track? If this was a sample of how it would be to work with her, it did not bode well for keeping it businesslike. And yet, somehow, he couldn’t honestly object. But back to the task at hand. “If we wait until after Ellie goes to sleep…” Then what? Auntie May liked to curl up with her cats and a book in the evening. He didn’t want to take advantage of his aunt by asking that she be alert to Ellie’s call.

  “I could come back into town later. I’m sure it won’t take long to deal with this.”

  In fact, they might be able to stand on the step and sort it out in a matter of minutes before she left. Yet somehow he didn’t suggest it. “If you don’t mind. That way I could be available without expecting Auntie May to cover for me.”

  “I don’t mind. Like I say, I’m sure it will only be a short while. Then I can visit a friend.”

  “Good.” They stood before her battered car. “I’ll see you later then.” He planted his hat on his head, nodded goodbye and strolled away. Not until he heard her car start and breathed in the gas fumes and dust of her departure did he wonder if spending more time with Louisa was a wise idea. But it was too late to change his mind, and because it was for Ellie he had no intention of doing so.

  Emmet explained to Auntie May that Louisa would be coming because they were going to work on Ellie’s lessons together.

  “Excellent idea, my boy. You’ll soon discover what a fine woman she is. You know, you could do worse than think about asking her—”

  He cut her off right there, knowing she was about to suggest he ask Louisa out. “I have no interest in such things. Not now. Not ever.”

  She looked at him, her face awash with concern. “Emmet, you are a young man. You can’t carry your hurt like a shield all your life.”

  He intended to do exactly that, though it was caution he carried, not hurt. He was long past hurt. “My life is busy enough with the ranch and a child to raise.”

  “Troubles shared are troubles halved.”

  “We’ll use the front room so as not to disturb Ellie, if that’s okay with you.”

  She studied him, letting him know she understood he ignored her suggestion of sharing troubles. “I prefer the rocking chair in the kitchen, as you are well aware. Does Ellie know about your new plan?”

  Ellie slept in the next room, exhausted by another crying spell. She missed her pony. Her friends. Even Betsy. “I haven’t said anything.” Seems the least little thing set her into a bout of tears. Hopefully she wasn’t going to end up like her mother. Jane had resorted to tears to get her own way so often that Emmet had learned to ignore them. Or had tried to, but they never failed to make him feel guilty.

  “It’s something Louisa and I will plan together.”

  A gentle knock sounded at the door.

  “I expect that is her now.”

  “’Spect so. You better let her in. And don’t worry about me. The cats and I will be quite happy in the kitchen.” She sat in a rocking chair so well used that the rockers had a ridge where she changed direction. “Run along now.” She shooed him away.

  He crossed the room and opened the door. The sun had settled toward the horizon and slanted rays into his eyes, so he didn’t see her face clearly. For some unfathomable reason, that bothered him. He wanted to see her expression, know what she really thought about this arrangement. Perhaps if he did, he could understand how he felt. Because this did not feel like business. It felt like a social call. He had struggled the past hour to try to drive that thought away, but it refused to leave.

  “Come in. Have a seat.” He waved toward a little table he’d cleared off and against which he had shoved two chairs, assuming she would want to show him material.

  “Thanks.” She sat and waited for him to sit opposite her, then she opened a notebook. “These are the lesson plans Adele helped me prepare.” She pointed to the outlined notes. “As you can see, we aren’t aiming to do more than basics. Her assignments have also been adjusted so she can do them without too much effort. We realize it’s difficult for her to do much while flat on her back.”

  He glanced over the material. “These seem fairly straightforward.”

  “You’re still thinking I’m the problem here.” She sucked in air. “You might be right. I get the feeling she resents my presence. Perhaps by having you in the room and presenting part of the lesson, she can see I only want to help her.”

  “I agreed to do so. I’m just uncertain of my role. What do you want me to do?”

  “I guess it depends on what you want.”

  “What I want has nothing to do with lessons. I want her to not be injured in the first place. I want—” I want her mother to still be alive. I want my parents to be alive.

  “I’m sorry. It can’t be easy raising a child on your own.”

  “It has its challenges for sure, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. My only regret is not having more children.” He leaned forward. “I envy you your sisters. I longed for brothers or sisters when I was growing up. And when I married, I vowed I would not have an only child. But life did not follow my plan.”

  Louisa kept her head downturned. “Nor did mine,” she murmured.

  The pain in her voice seared his heart. He knew such pain. “What happened?”

  She lifted her head. Her expression silently wept. His breath caught in the back of his throat at such raw pain. She drew a shuddering breath and then smiled, driving away the darkness, replacing it with sunshine as bright as what he’d faced when he opened the door. “We all have troubles, but I’ve learned that when we need God most, He is the closest. Knowing how much He cares for me is a gift beyond measure.”

  He wanted to know the size and shape and extent of her troubles. Wanted to take them from her. Just as he longed to take every trouble falling into Ellie’s life and carry it himself.

  She turned her attention back to the papers before them. �
�I’ve prepared the history lesson so I can teach that. The arithmetic is straightforward. You could teach it if you like. Reading…well let’s work together on that.”

  He pushed his thoughts back to the task at hand—the only thing that mattered—getting Ellie to do her schoolwork. Soon they had settled the lessons. The evening ahead stretched long and empty. He ached for someone to talk to. Sure, he had Auntie May and Ellie, but that wasn’t what he meant.

  “Would you like to go for a little walk before you leave? Watch the sunset?”

  She tucked the lesson material into her satchel without answering.

  Obviously she expected their relationship to be based solely on the task at hand. As did he. He shouldn’t have asked. But how could he withdraw the offer now without sounding rude?

  Before he could think of a way, she turned her face upward and smiled, sending rays of golden light into his heart.

  “I think that would be nice.”

  The woman had a beautiful smile. He couldn’t imagine why she didn’t have a dozen young men at her beck and call. Except most young men were struggling to keep body and boots together.

  Emmet pretended he wasn’t relieved it was too late to change his mind. He told Auntie May his plans, ignoring her triumphant grin. They left the house, paused as Louisa put her satchel in the car, then turned their steps away from the heart of town. “I used to play scrub ball in that lot.” He pointed to the empty bit of land. “Can’t imagine I was once so carefree. Seems like a lifetime ago.”

  “Tell me about your ranch.”

  He gratefully accepted her attempt to pull the conversation to safer channels. “It’s small. Tucked away in the foothills to the west. The land is beautiful. You can see the mountains simply by lifting your head and looking.”

  She sighed. “I’d love to see them up close. I’ve had glimpses when we went to Calgary. That’s all.”

  “They’re a sight to behold, that’s for sure.”

  “I suppose you’re anxious to get back there.”

  He considered the question. “Seems I should be, but I’m not.”

  She stopped to study him.

  He grinned but knew it was crooked and uncertain. “I guess I can’t think of the place without associating it with bad things.”

  She nodded, her eyes brimming with sympathy. “Your wife died out there.”

  He couldn’t maintain even a shaky smile.

  “I’m sorry.” She touched his arm, then withdrew her hand. But just as when she’d pressed her palm to his arm in the hallway of the school, a feeling of comfort raced through his heart. How did she do that? Give a healing balm simply with a touch? “She didn’t die at the ranch, for which I am grateful. We were in town buying supplies, and a team was frightened by a strange dog barking at their heels. They bolted. Before anyone could stop them, they ran over Jane.”

  She shuddered. “How dreadful. Where was Ellie?”

  “I had her in my arms. I pressed her face to my shoulder so she couldn’t see.” He’d protected her then. He’d protect her now.

  “How old was Ellie?”

  “Four.”

  “And you’ve managed on your own since?”

  “I had an older woman as a housekeeper for almost two years, but her daughter needed her so she left. Then I got Betsy, a neighbor. She came after school and stayed until I was back for supper. But I discovered she spent as much time elsewhere as she did with Ellie. That’s how Ellie came to be alone when she broke her leg.”

  “Poor Ellie. She must have been very frightened.”

  “Indeed.” He didn’t want to think about it. Or talk about it. If something happened to Ellie… He shifted back to a safer topic. “The town has gone downhill since I left. So many places vacant.”

  “I know. It’s sad.” She sighed, and he felt guilty at having brought up nothing but depressing topics.

  “What do people do for fun around here? Sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound critical. I’m just wondering.”

  She chuckled softly. A man could grow to appreciate amusing her.

  “I enjoy weeding the garden.”

  That was her idea of fun?

  She giggled. “Guess that’s not what you meant.”

  He glanced at her then. He’d admired her beauty before, assessed it as more than skin-deep, but at the way happiness and joy bubbled from her sparkling eyes, he almost tripped. A man could forget all his carefully constructed fences, find them blown over and useless in the face of such deep-rooted beauty. “I can’t believe it’s your idea of fun.” His voice deepened, revealing just how much he’d been touched. Hopefully she would assume it was only because he teased her.

  “No, really, I consider it a blessing to be able to do physical work. There was a time I couldn’t. A person learns to appreciate ordinary things when they’ve been deprived of them.”

  “I know you were ill enough to be confined to bed. What was wrong?”

  “Pneumonia. Three winters in a row. Seems my lungs never got completely better before the next winter would start it all over.” The joy in her eyes abated, as if the memory of those days hurt.

  He cupped her shoulder, wanting to share her sorrow as she had shared his. He wanted to restore the bubbling happiness. “You’re better now though?” She seemed fragile in appearance, but he had discovered she was actually about as fragile as steel. He didn’t want to think her health was precarious.

  She laughed. “I’m better. Ready to tackle life and enjoy it to the fullest. No more sitting on the sidelines idly watching. Which is why even weeding the garden is pleasant.”

  “But seriously, what do you do for pure enjoyment?” He wanted to know, though why he should care… He wasn’t about to examine his reasons, and declared his question to be an attempt at pleasant conversation.

  “I bake—”

  “Like the cookies you took to the orphanage?”

  “Yes. We took oatmeal raisin and also molasses cookies because they are our favorites. They were Father’s favorites.” Her expression filled with sadness. He wanted to bring back the sunshine.

  “How did the visit to the orphanage go?”

  “Good.” She told him about the children. “They appreciate the least little kindness. Poor little waifs.”

  “Okay, you weed the garden and bake cookies. What else?”

  “I read. I draw. I sang in the church choir for Easter. I generally keep busy. But maybe you mean what is there for a single man to do in the community.” They walked along a dusty trail that paralleled the railway tracks. She slowed and considered him. “Are you looking for a way to meet young ladies?”

  Heaven forbid. He never wanted to marry again. But he wanted to see her reaction if he suggested otherwise. “Are there lots of young ladies around?”

  She ducked her head, but not before he thought he caught a flash of disapproval—or was it disappointment? Was she even faintly interested in him as a man?

  “Of course, I’ve already met three charming young ladies.”

  Her head jerked up, and she considered him with wide-eyed surprise. “You have?”

  It pleased him to no end to see her interest. “Miss Ross seems like a good person.”

  “Yes, of course she is.”

  “Then there are those two young ladies I met in the store.”

  Her eyebrows shot up in silent question.

  “You know. Miss Sally Morgan and her very charming sister, Louisa.” He laughed at the confusion in her face and admired the way her cheeks bloomed pink.

  “Oh, you’re teasing me.”

  He was more than half-serious, but why was he enjoying teasing her? Their relationship was to be nothing more than business, even though they were partners now. He liked the idea more and more.

  She continued down the trail, every step raising a puff of dirt. “Look.” Her voice filled with wonder.

  He’d forgotten they were supposed to be admiring the sunset and followed her gaze to the west.

  They stood side
by side and watched colors shift from pink to orange to deep red. Gold tinted the scattered, empty clouds.

  She sighed. “Times like this I wish I could really paint, instead of just puttering.” She continued to stare at the sky.

  He angled sideways so he could watch her expression as much as he watched the sky. A chain of emotions crossed her face. Awe, a restlessness he supposed came from a desire to be able to paint, a look of determination—he wanted to ask what it meant—and then peace swept over her face so completely that he ached inside. Why couldn’t he feel the same peace?

  “I have only to look about to see the hand of God in the sky, the trees and the flowers. ‘The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament showeth his handiwork.’”

  “The nineteenth Psalm. I memorized it in Sunday school. I learned a hundred verses and won a Bible.” He still had it, tucked away in his things. It had been a long time since he’d opened it. To his shame.

  “My father had us memorize verses. He also taught us to read our Bible every night. I promised him I would make a habit of it, so I try not to miss a night.”

  “Seems your father was a good man.”

  “Yes, he was.” She shifted to look at him more closely. “I’m sorry you lost your father so early. Like I told Ellie the other day, we all need a father.”

  “He was a brave man. Wasn’t a thing that could stop him if he decided to do something.” Except he had been stopped. “Of course, we all discover sooner or later that there are things we can’t change, can’t move, can’t correct.”

  “Too true.” She stared again at the sky, her expression clouded. Then she smiled, and that incredible look of peace returned. “But nothing is too hard for God. Where He leads, He makes a way. All I have to do is trust and obey.” Softly she sang the hymn.

  He couldn’t stop watching her, his heart pounding against his rib cage in hungry insistence. He’d forgotten how sweet it was to trust. “It’s hard to trust when things go so wrong.”