As Miss Castlerock resettled Breanna in the long prairie grass, Jonas glimpsed a flash of scarlet beneath the woman’s chin. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“Hmm?”
He mimed touching his own chin and she rubbed a hand beneath hers, smearing blood over her fingers.
“Oh. I must’ve scraped it when I knocked against the wagon wheel. Is it bad?” She tipped her head back, exposing the creamy span of her throat.
Jonas swallowed roughly as he became aware of the very delicate, feminine part of her body. He averted his eyes. “I—it looks—I can’t tell.”
She scooted closer and hiked her chin higher. “And now?”
Jonas’s face flamed but the woman obviously didn’t feel that she was acting inappropriately, so he glanced at the wound again.
“Looks like it’s scraped.” He shuffled backward and lurched to his feet, intending to get away from Miss Castlerock. “I may have some antiseptic in the wagon,” he said to excuse himself.
Unfortunately, she followed him. He knew it without looking. That’s how aware he was of her very presence. “Thank you. I appreciate your help getting cleaned up. Sam, why don’t you sit with Breanna for a few moments?”
Jonas glanced at the young man, who looked a bit uncomfortable as he knelt by Breanna’s side. Miss Castlerock leaned against the wagon, too close for Jonas’s comfort. He could feel her eyes burning into him, but he kept his face averted.
He rifled through the small tack box he’d built and attached under the wagon seat and came up with the bottle of antiseptic, wrapped in cloth so it wouldn’t break with the wagon’s jostling. It came in handy a little too often with his seven rambunctious sons around.
Maybe that was the way. If he didn’t want to make a fool of himself over a woman who outclassed him, he could treat her just like he would treat one of his boys.
But when he faced Miss Castlerock and her vivid blue eyes, his insides clutched up. She was nothing like a teen boy and he knew it. Couldn’t ignore it.
“Lift—” He choked on the word and had to clear his throat. “Lift your chin up again.”
She complied silently, bracing her hands against the wagon behind her. Her eyes slid closed as she tipped her face toward the overhead sun.
Looking down on her pert nose and lightly freckled cheeks, he was unable to squander the chance to see her features up close. Jonas soaked in the image and hoped it branded to his brain, so he could remember it later. Then he gulped. The way she waited, it almost seemed…like she was waiting to be kissed.
He blinked the thought away and used his thumb to steady her chin. With the same damp cloth she’d wetted for Breanna—he resolutely kept his mind off where the cloth had come from—he cleaned the blood away.
She felt so delicate beneath his fingers, her skin as silken as a kitten’s fur.
“Miss Castlerock, this might sting a little,” he warned her.
With her lips in his direct line of sight, he couldn’t help but notice the way they parted on a soft intake of air when he dabbed the antiseptic over her abraded skin.
As he pursed his mouth to blow air across the scrape, the same way he would for one of his kids, again the irrational desire to kiss her took him and he jerked away, moving to plug the cork back into the bottle of antiseptic and put it back in the tack box.
His hands trembled. Badly.
Had she sensed his attraction to her? Mortification swirled through him.
“I think, after all of this…we can call each other Penny and Jonas.” Her soft statement turned his head; she still leaned against the wagon, her blue eyes considering him.
“And, we are to be neighbors, at least for a little while.”
She wanted him to call her by her first name? He shook himself, trying to come out of the stupor her closeness had created in him. Most likely, after he dropped her and Sam at Walt’s homestead, he wouldn’t see her again. This was a busy time of year with haying coming up soon. What would it hurt to agree?
“As you wish.” He quickly steered away from the subject. “Breanna will need to catch her breath for a while longer. Between her episode and the late start we got this morning, it will be past dark before we get to your granddad’s place.”
“It’s all right. You couldn’t help what happened, and neither could Breanna.”
How he wished he could help his daughter. If only he’d gotten a loan, he could get Breanna the treatment she needed. The frequency of the seizures was random—he never knew when they were coming and sometimes she could go months without having one. But he wanted her better.
Penny must’ve seen the despair on his face. She reached out and laid her hand on his arm. It burned, even through his sleeve and he wrenched away, pretending to concentrate on checking the horses’ harness again.
He needed distance from Penny and her overwhelming, vibrant presence, but he wasn’t likely to get it until he dropped her at her grandfather’s place. Why had he agreed to bring her along?
Thankfully, Penny returned to Breanna’s side and plopped down, spreading her skirts around her and speaking softly to the girl.
Sam Castlerock came to him. “I could rearrange some of the crates in the back, make it more comfortable for Miss Breanna to lie down.”
It was a kind offer and he doubted the boy could destroy any of the items. “Fine.”
“Breanna, sweetheart? I’m going to take a short walk, make sure we’re okay to stay here for a bit. You all right with Miss Penny?” He desperately needed to clear his head.
“Mm-hmm. I’m just tired…”
“I know you are. We’ll get back in the wagon in a little while.”
* * *
Penny huddled in the large slicker her near-silent companion had offered her after it had gotten dark and the night air cooled. She hadn’t thought to bring a shawl or coat with her, had forgotten how breezy it could be out on the plains.
Jonas had barely grunted two words to her after he’d cleaned the scrape on her chin, although he’d been gentle and conversational with Breanna as he helped her settle into the newly arranged wagon bed. The girl now slept deeply, oblivious to the wagon’s creaking and bumping.
Penny had been surprised when Sam had offered to help and followed through. The action was out of character for her spoiled brother, who was usually content to allow others to do work when he could get out of it. Maybe he’d been as shaken by Breanna’s episode as Penny had been at first. Perhaps this trip to visit his grandfather would be good for Sam. Help him turn over a new leaf. She prayed it was so.
She was even more surprised by the man sitting beside her. The gentle way he’d treated the scrape underneath her chin had echoed his tenderness when dealing with Breanna after her seizure, and Penny didn’t know what to make of it. She was used to consideration, even kindness, from the men in her acquaintance, but she couldn’t imagine her father taking the time and care to treat a scrape like Jonas had.
Was that very gentleness how he had wooed Millie Broadhurst in the first place? Penny tried to imagine the ingenue that she’d shared a room with in Mrs. Trimble’s Academy for Young Ladies, along with two other girls, even glancing at the bricklayer’s apprentice and couldn’t fathom it. Certainly Jonas’s face had been pleasing, although usually smudged with brick dust or plaster, but he’d been thin and gangly…nothing at all like the way he now filled out the shoulders of the dark jacket he’d worn the night of her father’s party.
Penny wished that errant thought away. There was no need to ponder the physical attributes of the man beside her.
Millie had only seemed interested in catching a rich husband. More so than Penny had been. Millie had had a practiced way of circulating the room at the different parties they’d attended, and often had afternoon callers at the finishing school.
And Penny and Millie hadn’t been particularly close. The other girl was a consummate flirt, so perhaps she’d made the first overture and approached Jonas during a break in his work. The house he’d
been repairing had shared a small courtyard with Mrs. Trimble’s Academy, and they could’ve trysted there easily enough.
It was well known that the kitchen door was easily accessible if one of the young ladies had any desire to sneak out of the house at night. Penny had never taken advantage of it, though she’d heard some of the other girls whispering about it.
More speculations flitted through Penny’s mind as she watched the nearly full moon come up over the horizon. It was better than dwelling on her own problems with her father and Mr. Abbott. Nor would she ever ask Jonas about it, as the subject was considered improper. Too improper to be broached, even by someone as curious-natured as she was.
Penny shifted to relieve the ache in her back. She wasn’t used to remaining in one place for so long, and it seemed hours since they’d stopped to rest the horses and eat a small supper of stale biscuits and jerky.
Surely they were almost to her grandfather’s homestead? Unable to make out any familiar landmarks in the darkness, Penny could only guess at their location.
“We’ll be there soon.” The rumble of Jonas’s voice startled her. “I know you’re probably ready to get down by now.”
“Oh.” How considerate. “Thank you, but I’ll be all right. I’m sure you must be anxious to get home as well.”
The yellow moonlight illuminated the outline of his hat as he bobbed his head in agreement. To her surprise, he went on.
“It’s a good thing you and your brother have come to see Walt.”
His statement stirred the unease she’d felt since her mother had read her grandfather’s letter. “His letter was a bit vague on his recent illness. Was he terribly sick?”
“I didn’t even realize he’d been doing poorly until I realized we hadn’t seen him in a few days. Far as I know, it was mostly just a fever and cough.” Jonas rolled his shoulders, as if he, too, was tired of sitting still. “He’s getting older. It’s harder for him to get around, do the heavier chores. The boys and I try to get over to his place and help some, but he’s stubborn…doesn’t always let us help.”
“Hmm. That does sounds like Grandfather.” She’d often wondered why her mother hadn’t inherited any of her grandfather’s tenacity. A little would have done her good when dealing with an overbearing husband, but Penny’s mother remained a yielding, docile wife.
“I can’t imagine him fading away.” She didn’t want to, anyway. Every summer she’d visited, up to her fourteenth year, her grandfather had seemed indomitable. Always working the horses he raised, training them, loving on them. And on her grandmother, whom he’d doted on.
Her grandmother had passed away while Penny had been in finishing school. She’d been unable to attend the funeral—too far to travel—and her father hadn’t wanted her to visit often since she’d been back in Wyoming. She’d never really considered why. Grandfather was a devout Christian and would never let her get into a situation that was improper. Perhaps it was just the lack of adequate companionship. After all, her grandfather’s place was somewhat isolated.
“Thank you for helping Grandfather. I’m sure Sam and I can take care of what needs to be done while we’re here.” But what about after they returned home? Did her grandfather really need permanent help?
Jonas cleared his throat, as if he had more to say. Penny waited a few moments before he spoke. Was the man shy or did his hesitation stem from something else? “Thank you for…tending to Breanna during her episode. And after. It was kind of you.”
She had the strangest urge to take his hand. She stared down at the fisted appendage on his thigh, washed white in the moonlight. He held the reins loosely, confident in his control of the horses. Why did she feel the need to comfort him? Was it simply the false intimacy crafted by the darkness surrounding them? Or that Sam and Breanna both slept, so the soft night noises created the feeling of a romantic interlude? Had he charmed Millie Broadhurst with his shy manner, in just this same way?
Uncomfortable, Penny rushed to fill the silence. “It must be a horrible thing for a parent, to have to watch Breanna go through those times. I can’t imagine. Did you ever have seizures when you were a child? I can’t remember if Millie ever had one.”
He tensed at the mention of Breanna’s mother’s name. Did he still have strong feelings for her, then? Was that why Penny made him uncomfortable, why he hesitated when speaking to her? Because she was a reminder of his past?
“No. I never had one.”
“Is there anything that can be done?”
“There is a medicine called bromide that has been found to be helpful to some people, but in Breanna’s case, it makes her overly tired and she is still susceptible to the seizures. But…”
He paused, as if considering whether he should go on. “There’s a doctor over in Cheyenne who has developed a treatment of his own that could help her.”
“That’s wonderful. Is it—it is safe, though?”
“I don’t know much about it. This doctor doesn’t want others to find out his methods. The unfortunate thing is that the treatment is expensive, and I haven’t yet obtained the funds to pay for it.”
“He won’t consider allowing you to pay in increments over time?”
“No.”
She could almost hear the frown in his voice. “That’s why you came to my father’s bank, isn’t it? To get a loan?”
He was slow to answer. “Your father’s bank and every other one between Cheyenne and Bear Creek. My homestead makes enough to feed the family, but not enough to convince them to give me a loan.”
He sounded so distressed, so worn down, that Penny again had the urge to reach out to him, but she kept her fingers clenched in her lap. Didn’t he have anyone to share his burdens with?
“Have you tried asking your church for the funds? Or maybe the folks in Bear Creek could take a special collection.”
She thought she heard him sigh, but when she tried to look at his face, the moonlight only illuminated the shadow of his profile.
“When I asked the preacher, he said there was barely enough money in the congregation to keep him fed. And folks around here were hit hard last winter. Lost a lot of livestock and some lost everything. I can’t ask them to give up what they need to survive.”
“But there must be some way…” Penny knew she sounded desperate, but she wanted Breanna to get the treatment she needed. Even though she’d only known the girl one day, it was clear she was a sweet and special child. “Could you send a letter to Breanna’s grandparents? Surely the Broadhursts would want to help their granddaughter—”
“No.”
Jonas’s sharp retort startled her into silence. “But—”
“When Breanna and I left Philadelphia, they made it clear we weren’t to have any contact with Millie or the family.”
That must’ve hurt him, to be denied contact with the mother of his child. Especially if Jonas still had feelings for Millie.
“I’ll find a way to pay for the treatment. I have to.”
Penny was struck by the determination in her companion’s voice, could imagine the immovable set of his broad shoulders as he said the words. Was that determination what Millie had come to admire in him? And if she’d liked him enough to compromise her morals, why had Millie let her parents send him away?
Penny’s whirling thoughts were interrupted when Jonas let out a soft whistle. It carried in the darkness, startling her into bumping against Jonas’s shoulder.
“Wha—” Sam bolted upright from where he’d dozed off, jostling the wagon with his movement.
Breanna stirred and Jonas reached back to lay a hand on her shoulder. “We’re almost home, sweetheart.”
Penny couldn’t see her grandfather’s house, but she felt the jarring bump as Jonas guided the wagon out of the ruts made from many wagons and into the thicker grass. Had they reached her grandfather’s homestead? Finally? They rounded a copse of trees, and the wooden structure, the cabin smaller than she remembered, came into view in the moonlight.
“Walt?” Jonas’s voice carried into the darkness. “It’s Jonas White. I’ve got a special delivery for you.”
Chapter Five
Penny woke to a dull thump on the door frame. Hadn’t she just gone to bed?
“C’mon, Penny-girl. Time to greet the sun.”
A glance out the tiny window in her grandfather’s small second bedroom revealed it wasn’t even light outside yet.
Ugh. How could her grandfather be so cheerful this early in the morning? Especially after their late arrival and the time they’d spent around the kitchen table catching up. While Penny hadn’t shared her real reason for getting out of Calvin, her grandfather hadn’t seemed to question why both his grandchildren had decided on a visit, and for that she was grateful.
Jonas had been right. Her grandfather was a shadow of the man he’d once been. He seemed much older than the last time she’d seen him a few months ago. Frail, almost.
Not that she’d know it this morning, if the cheer in his voice was any indication.
“You want me to come in and tickle you awake like I used to?”
“No,” she warbled, voice clogged from sleep. In her hurry to escape Calvin, she had forgotten to pack a nightrail, so she’d slept in her chemise. She didn’t want anyone coming in to see that. She pushed back the simple quilt covering her and cleared her throat to try again. “I’m awake. I’m coming.”
Her grandfather’s reply was a whistle; she heard the sound fade and surmised he must’ve stepped outside.
Still half asleep, she sat up in the small straw tick bed, wishing for her delightful feather tick at home, and attempted to stretch the back muscles that had tightened up after a day spent riding on an uncomfortable wagon seat.
Without any light coming through the curtainless window, she could barely make out the small table next to the bed and the chest of drawers across the room, but she still remembered the shock she’d suffered last night as she’d carried a lone, wavering candle into the bedroom.
The Homesteader's Sweetheart Page 5
