"I got it all dirty," he apologized, standing once again.
"I don't care if my petticoat's dirty. I almost lost you in there, you foolish man!"
"Meg, I'd been in there already, I knew the fire was pretty much at the front and along one side. I just didn't expect the smoke to be so bad."
"Don't ever, ever do anything like that again," she demanded, striving for composure. "Promise!"
"I promise," he said with a grin.
She flung herself against him, not caring who saw or what they thought. "Oh, Tye, I was so scared."
He ran a thumb over her cheek and held her securely. "You won't have to be scared like that again."
"I refuse to be scared like that again."
She gloried in his masculine strength, his arms around her and his reassuring words. She loved him.
The realization flitted around her, daring her to take notice. But he pulled away. "Sit over there safely away from the fire while I help the men get the last of the flames out."
She watched him go, a lump in her throat.
Harley, too, joined the men, and the women and children watched in silence as the danger of the fire spreading passed. Eventually the charred remains of the livery stood smoldering in the afternoon sun.
Weary and ash-covered, the firefighters headed for their homes and places of business. Tye came toward Meg, Harley on his heels.
"Thank you, Mr. Hatcher," he said from behind.
Tye stopped before Meg and turned to observe the man's uncomfortable expression. Gwynn stood three feet away, satisfaction on her pretty face. Wilsie hung behind her, her wary gaze darting from Tye to the others and back.
"Thank you, Mr. Hatcher," Forrest seconded in his still-wavering childish voice. He gripped the Shetland's mane securely. "Papa, where are we going to keep Cinnamon now?"
Harley obviously hadn't had time to think about it.
"You're welcome to leave him at the ranch," Tye said immediately. "I'm sure he'd be comfortable there until a new livery is built. There's room in the barn, and he could exercise and graze."
"Can we take him there, Papa?" Forrest asked, looking up at his father hopefully.
"Well, I … I guess so."
"Good," Tye said. "We have a wagon here, if you want us to take him now. I have to get back to the hay."
He and Harley led Forrest and the Shetland away. Meg and Gwynn exchanged a surprised look and followed, Wilsie on their heels. Lilly, straining to pull away from Edwina, finally broke loose and ran to her mother. Gwynn hugged her and took her hand.
Edwina gave the women on either side of her a sheepish look and dropped in behind. Meg remembered she'd been in the middle of dressing down her former mother-in-law when this whole nightmare had unfolded.
To her great surprise, Edwina huffed forward and touched her arm as they walked briskly behind the men. "Do you feel well enough to ride back?" she asked. "You could come to the house and rest for a while."
"I think I'd feel better going back home," Meg replied. "Besides, Gus and Eve will start to worry if we're gone too long."
"Is that old man able to care for her properly?" she asked with a frown.
Meg would have laughed if her limbs weren't still trembling from the scare she'd had and if she hadn't been too relieved over Tye's safety to give anything else a second thought. Edwina wouldn't be Edwina if she didn't have something to harp about. "They do just fine."
Tye helped Harley and Forrest tie the pony securely to the back of the wagon.
"Won't he get tired walking all the way to your place?" Forrest asked. "Shouldn't he ride back there?" He pointed to the wagon.
"He might be small, but he's hearty," Tye replied. "He'd get too scared if we tried to put him in the wagon bed."
"When can I come see him?" Forrest asked. His face still bore red blotches from his crying.
"Anytime you like," Tye responded with a tired smile.
"This is quite forward of me," Gwynn said, Lilly close at her side, "but if you don't have other plans, why don't we come for dinner after church this Sunday? I'll bring my butter rolls and a pecan pie."
Meg wondered if she'd heard correctly. She wondered if she'd fainted back there and was having some sort of wild dream.
The looks on everyone else's faces told her she was awake and that Gwynn had taken the initiative and made a suggestion that could breach the hard feelings. Forrest beamed. Harley avoided making eye contact and studied the tips of his once shiny boots. Wilsie blinked like a baby bird, scanning the others' faces.
Edwina's cheeks were tinged with bright spots of pink, but she made no objection. What could she have said when Tye had just saved her grandson and his horse in one fell swoop?
Tye looked at Meg, uncertainty lacing his features.
"I think that's a wonderful idea," Meg managed to reply at last. "Nothing would make me happier than to have company for Sunday dinner. Gus and Purdy eat with us," she added as a warning to Edwina. She wouldn't exclude the men who'd been loyal through thick and thin just because the Hatcher name had gained a sudden speck of esteem.
If they were going to accept Meg again, they were going to accept Tye and Eve and her hired hands in the package.
"It's set, then," Gwynn decided. "We'll see you Sunday."
Tye lifted Meg onto the seat, and she waved to the Telfords as the team drew them away.
"I can't believe you risked your life for a horse, Tye," she said in reproach.
"I've risked my life for more thankless reasons," he replied.
"But you have a family now. You have a wife and a daughter."
She couldn't decipher the surprised glance he cast her way.
"You have to think of Eve first," she declared.
He'd lost his hat somewhere and squinted in the afternoon sun. "I've never had a family before," he said, his meditative gaze touching her face, her hair. Streaks of soot remained under his chin and near his eye. His hair had dried in loose waves. "I'll remember that in the future."
"See that you do."
Meg's obvious fear and relief were a surprise to Tye. He thought over her reactions and her words the next day as he forked hay out of the wagon into an enormous pile near the barn.
This situation was new to him. It had been a long time since his mother had been alive and he'd quit school to provide for the two of them. Even then he'd only taken care of her for a few years until she'd died. After that it had never mattered if he took a daring chance because he'd never had anyone counting on him or anyone who cared whether or not he returned.
Meg had behaved as if she cared. She'd brought him to task verbally, but she'd touched him as if to reassure herself of his safety. She'd cried tears of relief.
And all that had followed her magnificent tirade in the café. Tye was accustomed to ignoring the gibes, even prided himself in his practiced ability not to allow the comments and snubs to provoke him.
He'd never had a defender before. He hadn't needed one, but it had been nice to hear the things she'd said on his behalf. She'd called him a kind and wonderful man. But more amazing than that, she'd declared herself Meg Hatcher. In front of a dozen people, she'd denied being a Telford. He could see her now, her face flushed and pink, her lovely tawny eyes flashing sparks, her spine stiff with indignation.
Why that particular announcement touched him above all others, he could only guess. He'd thought of her as Joe's wife for so long, it wasn't conceivable to think of her as his. He wasn't good enough for her. But then, had Joe been good enough?
Having a daughter was wonderful, but his life wouldn't be complete until he truly had a wife. She'd been hurt by the fact that Eve was his child. He understood that, but he couldn't change it. All along he'd thought he could somehow prove himself worthy of her, and yet he'd never been able to accomplish that.
You have a wife and a daughter now, she'd told him. She hadn't even realized the importance of those words.
Encouraged by her display of concern and that revealing dec
laration, Tye found the workload light and the tasks a pleasure. He had a purpose now. And just maybe he had someone who cared. Just maybe she was starting to think of him as her husband.
By Sunday the news of the fire and Tye's part in it had swept the town. The tone of the whispers rippling among the congregation had a whole new sound. Tye still played the organ, even though Fiona no longer wore the sling, and the newest rumors were that she hadn't really injured her arm at all, that she and Reverend Baker had devised a plot to initiate Tye to the position of church musician.
Whatever the means, the end result pleased all. Tye's playing added a dimension to the worship service that had been missing before. Smiles and pleasant salutations greeted Meg and Tye after the service, and Meg reveled in the change of attitudes.
Tye, on the other hand, seemed reluctant to trust their change of heart. He spoke politely and smiled, but Meg had the impression that he held back.
But she had the impression he held back with her, too, so maybe that was just his way.
She'd started preparation for dinner the night before, and by the time the Telfords arrived, the trestle table was set with the good china and the kitchen smelled of beef and rich gravy.
Edwina looked the table over and glanced about the room. She'd only been there a few times while Joe was alive, and each time she'd criticized the lack of amenities. This time she held her tongue.
Meg knew there was a world of difference between this functional kitchen and the lovely wood-paneled dining room the Telfords ate in on the Sabbath. But she wasn't ashamed of the difference.
Edwina wandered through the other room and returned. "Meg, you have a veranda!"
Meg smiled inwardly. "Tye built it."
"The chairs and the swing, too?"
"Yes."
"Isn't it a busy season? I'm surprised he took the time away from the cows and whatever else it is you ranchers do to build something purely for enjoyment."
Meg stopped mashing the pan full of potatoes for a moment to look up in consideration. "Yes, it has been busy. He worked on it in between other things. When I asked him why, he just said he'd done it because I wanted a porch."
The fact that Joe had never built her a porch remained unspoken but not unconsidered.
"Sounds pretty romantic to me," Gwynn said with a sly smile.
Meg ignored the teasing comment and whipped her potatoes.
Ten minutes later, she rang the bell, and hungry men and children hurried into the house. Eve scrambled up onto her bench near Tye's chair and, eyeing the strangers, leaned so far toward him Meg thought she'd fall off onto the floor.
She found a stool in the pantry and seated Eve on it so she could be closer to Tye. He allowed her to snuggle his shirtfront while fixing her plate and his own.
Everyone paused while he said a brief and appropriate blessing, and then bowls and platters were passed. Meg was proud to have plenty of food to serve her guests, and pleased that they'd come.
Gus and Purdy had dressed in their best shirts and pomaded their sparse hair. Purdy's handlebar mustache was a work of art.
Forrest accidentally dropped a crockery bowl with green beans and bacon remaining in the bottom. Harley started to reprimand the boy, but Tye held up one hand, stood and strode to the door.
Major bounded in and Tye picked up the unharmed bowl and pointed to the mess on the floor. The dog eagerly licked up the treat, and the adults joined the children in a gale of laughter.
"Is that what you used to do with your food?" Meg asked him, leaning in to whisper.
"Only one biscuit—ever," he replied.
She laughed.
"Gus used to eat part of it when you weren't looking, though," he admitted.
She squeezed his arm … and met Gwynn's twinkling gaze. Heat rose up her cheeks.
After dinner, Gus chased the women onto the porch and took over the cleanup.
"Does Gus always do that?" Edwina asked, wide-eyed with amazement.
"On Sundays," she replied. "He helps with meals every day, though. And does nearly all the cooking on the range during roundup."
"My goodness, it's like having your very own live-in help," Edwina gushed.
"It's more like having another member of the family," Meg corrected easily. "I pay Gus and Purdy so little, I think of them as family. They've been here since Joe bought the place, and stayed with me all through the war."
"How is your garden doing, Meg?" Gwynn asked.
"My beans have grown clear up the poles," she replied.
"Let's go have a look."
Meg and Gwynn excused themselves from Edwina and Wilsie and the children, donned sunbonnets and walked out to survey the plants.
"I didn't know you were interested in vegetables," Meg said with a lift of one eyebrow.
"New growing things always fascinate me," she replied with a secretive smile.
Meg pointed out her beets and turnips and carrots, and the watermelon and pumpkin patches Tye had planted himself.
"How long are you going to keep it a secret, Meg?"
Meg glanced from the wide leaves and vines to her one-time sister-in-law. "Keep what a secret?"
"Come on, Meg. The baby, of course."
Meg looked at her curiously. "What baby?"
Gwynn's entire expression changed. Amazement flooded her fair features. "You don't know."
"I don't know what? Tell me?"
"The dizzy spells you've been having—you've probably been sick several times. How long since you had your monthly?"
Meg's head whirled with the implication. "I thought it was just the heat, but it never affected me like that before. I haven't had it for … for I don't know how long."
"Doesn't your body feel different?"
Meg thought about the heaviness in her breasts. "Yes."
"You're going to have a baby, Meg."
Meg stared at Gwynn until her face blurred. She blinked and glanced at the bright blue sky. A baby? Could it be true? Already she was carrying a baby? "Oh my goodness," she whispered, blinking back tears.
Gwynn hugged her. "He loves you very much."
"Tye?"
"Of course Tye, you silly!" She laughed. "Who else? It's so obvious that even Edwina has to recognize it."
"It is?"
"He looks at you like you're some kind of princess. He's attentive, and he built you a porch. Why, I almost think I'm jealous of such a love as you have."
"Harley loves you."
"Yes, he does now. But he married me because I was from the right family."
"Tye didn't exactly marry me for reasons of passion," Meg replied.
"But he feels it, you can't deny it."
Meg thought over her relationship with her husband. No, she couldn't deny it.
And a baby.
The growing realization elated her.
The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly. The children played games and took turns riding the good-natured Shetland who'd immediately adapted to his new surroundings.
Meg showed Wilsie the dress she was making for Eve, and Wilsie asked if she could add a lace underskirt.
Edwina enjoyed the swing and the lemonade and conceded that the fresh air was good for the children.
Tye and Harley spent some time with the horses, and then joined the children in the yard. By the time the Telfords climbed into their buggy and rode off, Meg was glad for the quiet.
On the porch, Eve played with her doll, and Tye and Meg sat on the swing, watching the sunset.
"Thank you for the porch, Tye. I don't think I ever thanked you properly."
"You're welcome," he replied easily. "Did you enjoy their visit?"
"Yes. It pleases me that they've accepted you."
"I wish they'd have accepted me before the fire."
"So do I. But it took the fire to show them what kind of person you are. Harley has good breeding, but did you see him run in there after his son's horse?"
"He's not as foolish as I am, obviously. Didn't you say
that was foolish?"
"It was brave. It was who you are."
"Foolish. I lost my hat."
She grinned. "It was a great hat. But you can buy a new one." She studied the tangerine sphere on the distant horizon. "Let's go into town tomorrow and see about the loan for the packing plant. You have plenty to put down now to get started, and we can use the cobs as collateral."
"Is that what you want?"
She nodded. "It's what I want."
Everything had gone better than she could have hoped. The horses were an asset she'd never hoped for. All her hopes and dreams had fallen neatly into place. The ranch was more secure than it had ever been. The mares carried foals that would make them even richer the following spring.
And Meg had a wonderful secret.
She'd hung on to Joe's ranch, and Tye was turning it into a profitable business. The repairs were done, the stock was healthy. And now she'd have her very own child.
All the dreams she and Joe had started out with had come to pass.
The sun disappeared and the sky wore a dark cloak. A sudden stab of possessiveness startled her. Why did she feel that she didn't want to share any of this happiness with Joe? What had come over her?
Meg studied her shadowed porch with loving eyes. Joe had never built her a porch. He'd thought the stock and the barns more important than their house, and she'd gone along. But had she really agreed, or was it only so she didn't feel slighted?
She'd spent so much of her energy feeling guilty over her passion for Tye that she hadn't appreciated it fully. Joe hadn't set her skin and her body and her mind on fire. Tye had done all that and then patiently taught her it was not wicked to feel that way.
And Tye had given her this baby. This baby was theirs and theirs alone.
She placed her hand on his arm, and in the semi-darkness he glanced over. She smiled. She couldn't wait to tell him.
Eve approached the swing and Tye slowed to pick her up and arrange her on his lap. Meg studied them contentedly, amazed that could she love two people so much. Her heart's desire had changed completely, but it had never been more clear. Her greatest longing was to be a wife to Tye and a mother to Eve … and a good mother to this new child. Tye reached for Meg's hand and held it.
JOE'S WIFE Page 21
