She smiled at him. “Welcome to our home, Mr. Hillborne.” Her gaze lingered on his for only a moment before she shot a worried glance to her sister, who was slicing the meat.
“Thank you for having me, Mrs. Coulter. You have a most impressive home.” He hoped to lighten the tension and assure them he was no threat to their family. Why had Gabe invited him? Baron could imagine how awkward his presence must be for them, especially Jo. Her odd behavior at the store now made sense. She must have been scouting him out—or perhaps she’d come to see if Mark had returned. Did she still pine after him?
He certainly hoped not, because she was bound to be distraught when he told her that her marriage to his brother was not official since Mark was already married. Or had Gabe told her? If he hadn’t, Baron hoped she didn’t fall apart, weeping and wailing. He’d never been good with women’s emotions. He often dealt with Abigail’s when she was upset with his brother, and he never knew how to console her. Women always gravitated to Mark, and Baron didn’t want a woman who’d rather be with his brother. The idea that Jo had turned his stomach.
“Where’s Sarah?” Jo asked as she set the meat platter on the table.
Her sister smiled. “She offered to sit with Beth while we ate. I’ll take her a plate when I go upstairs after dinner.”
Jo nodded and took her seat next to her son on the far side of the table. Baron had a hard time keeping his eyes off them, especially Jamie.
He sat down when the rest of the family did. It was hard for him to be upset with Jo for her relationship with Mark when he just learned he had a nephew. Smiling, he closed his eyes while Gabe said the prayer for the meal. Baron thanked God for the unexpected blessing He’d bestowed on him today. At least Jamie was an unexpected gift. He wasn’t so certain about the child’s mother.
Chapter 11
Jack stood in the front part of the doctor’s office while Nick helped Lee get dressed in the new clothes that Cora had purchased at the store. He glanced at her, glad he’d let her come along and help. She’d done a wonderful job of calming little Lee.
Dr. Vance stepped out from behind the curtain separating the waiting area from his examination room and blew out a loud breath. He walked over to where Jack stood by the front window, shaking his head. “Those boys are in sad condition,” he said, keeping his voice low. “They must not have had much to eat lately, and they’re covered in mosquito bites and scratches.”
“I aim to fix the food problem.” Jack shifted his feet, wondering if the boys would be happy with his passable cooking skills.
“They should only have some broth or chicken soup today. If that doesn’t upset their stomachs, then you can feed them eggs or porridge for breakfast, but no bacon or anything else greasy. If they hold that down, then whatever you have to feed them should be fine. Be sure to send word if they have any problems.”
Jack nodded. “All right, Doc. Thanks for letting the boys have a bath here. We sure hated putting them in new clothes with all that grime on them.”
Doc shrugged. “No thanks needed. It was necessary. I couldn’t very well examine them in that state, either.”
Cora stepped forward. “So, other than what you mentioned and suffering from a lack of good food, you didn’t find anything else wrong with them?”
“The bigger boy had some fresh scratches that he probably got when he fell in the creek, but unless he comes down with a cold, he should be fine. The younger boy had a few old scratches on his hands and arms but nothing I wouldn’t expect from a child his age.”
Cora smiled, creating odd tingles in Jack’s belly. Then again, he’d missed lunch, so maybe that was the cause.
“You let me know if either boy takes sick.”
“Will do, Doc.”
“I’d best make sure they aren’t getting into anything back there. You know how children can be.” Doc turned and slipped behind the curtain.
“What are we going to do with the boys, Jack?”
“I promised them they could stay with me, so I reckon they will.”
“But for how long? And are you sure the church leaders will even allow that since you live in the parsonage?”
“How could they refuse two orphans?”
Cora glanced toward the curtain and lifted a finger to her lips. “They can, and they might, so you should be prepared.”
He leaned toward her. “I already decided that I won’t put those boys in an orphanage.”
“Not all of them are bad places.”
He straightened. “I know that, but the officials would more than likely separate them because of their age difference—and they’ve lost enough already. They need each other.” He thought back to how he and his sisters had been sent to different homes right after the fire that killed his parents. No one wanted to take in three youngsters at once, but at the same time, no one stopped to consider that maybe they needed to be together. The man who took him only wanted him for the work he could do. No matter that he was grieving the loss of his parents while suffering the overwhelming guilt of knowing he was responsible for their deaths. He’d wanted to protect and care for his little sisters, but well-meaning churchgoers had said it wasn’t proper for a youth his age. And besides, they had no home to live in. Jo wailed when Mr. and Mrs. Olander had taken her and Lara away. He gritted his teeth. He could still hear her screams. Thank the good Lord his grandparents had come for them a week later.
“Did you hear me, Jack?” Cora tapped her foot. “I said we’ll just have to pray for God to send a loving couple who will take both boys and raise them to be their children.”
Jack gave her a quick nod. The curtain parted, and Doc stepped back into the room. He held open the white linen so Nick could pass through with Lee behind him. The younger boy held tight to his brother’s hand. Jack was amazed at the difference in them with the dirt scrubbed off and new clothes on their backs. Both boys’ hair was still damp and combed to one side.
“Are you two ready to get something to eat?” Cora walked forward. “My mother made chicken and rice soup for Sunday dinner, and I think it’s just the thing you youngsters need.”
“That sounds wonderful, ma’am.” Nick glanced at his brother and smiled.
Jack took Cora’s cue, glad he didn’t have to go home and scramble to prepare a meal. “That sounds delicious. I never had lunch myself.”
Cora shot him a surprised look. “I’m sure there’s enough for you, too, Pastor.”
He smiled. “I’m right glad to hear that.”
She turned to the doctor. “Have you eaten? I’m sure Mama has plenty.”
Doc held up one hand. “Thank you kindly, Miss Sommers, but I did eat—at the café.”
“Thanks for checking over the boys.” Jack held out his hand, and Doc shook it.
An hour later, with their bellies sated and having said his farewell to Cora and her parents, Jack bent over a checkerboard in his parlor, playing a game with Nick. The boy was good and had already beaten him once, partly because Lee distracted him when he got into the kitchen cupboard.
He rubbed the back of his neck. What had he gotten himself into?
He knew nothing of entertaining children. At least he didn’t have to figure out where they could sleep since the house had an extra bedroom. Evidently, pastors often came with families.
Jack studied the board then reached to make his move when someone knocked on the door. “Hang on, pardner. I’ll be right back.”
He rose and ambled across the room, but when he saw three men from the church board, his hackles rose. They didn’t look to be in a benevolent mood. He stepped outside, nodding at the men, and closed the door. “What can I do for you gentlemen?”
Ted Sizemore glanced at the other two then cleared his throat. “Is it true you’re housing the children of the man who drew a knife on Mrs. Parnell?”
“It is.” Jack crossed his arms over his chest.
Burt Gladstone crossed his arms. “Well, Zeb Parnell came to us, madder than a rooster whose henho
use had been upset by a thievin’ weasel.”
Jack suspected the weasel he referred to was Mr. Beatty.
“He said it ain’t right that them boys stay here when the church owns this house and pays your salary.” Burt shifted his feet, as if not completely comfortable relaying the news.
Jack narrowed his gaze, annoyed at the men’s lack of compassion. “The Beatty boys are children—young ones at that. Just what does Mr. Parnell think they will do?”
“It ain’t so much that,” Bill Arnold offered. “It’s what their pa did.”
“So, the boys are guilty because their father did the wrong thing, when all he wanted was to get food for them?”
All three men stared at their feet.
“They are not guilty of any crime,” Jack said, taking advantage of the silence. “And you should see them. Those poor orphans are as scrawny as fence wire.”
Mr. Sizemore looked up. “Zeb said he’d quit giving to the church if you don’t get rid of them.”
“Fine! Let him, because they are staying until I find them a proper home.”
“No, they’re not.” Mr. Sizemore lifted his chin. “The church board has decided. You have two weeks to find a place for them or else.”
“Or else what?”
Mr. Sizemore glanced at the others, who nodded. “Or we find us a new preacher.”
Carrying Jamie, Jo reluctantly led Baron into the parlor while Gabe and Michael helped Lara clean up. Right after the meal, she had escaped to check on Grandpa, but he was sleeping. She blew out a sigh, dreading her talk with Baron Hillborne. What could she say? That his brother was a charming snake who told her what she wanted to hear at the time she had been most vulnerable?
She took a seat on the sofa and placed Jamie next to her. Baron sat in a chair at a right angle from the sofa, his eyes on her son. What would he expect of her? Would he want to be part of Jamie’s life? Would he demand to be part of Jamie’s life?
Baron looked at her and smiled. “I have to say this is quite a pleasant surprise. When I got up this morning, it was just a regular day … and now … I’m an uncle. I can’t seem to quit smiling.”
At least his smile was different from Mark’s. He only had one dimple where Mark had two.
Jo’s hand shook. Why was she afraid of him? What could he do?
Dumb question. She of all people knew what men were capable of.
“Do you think Jamie would let me hold him?”
She wished she could say no, but Jamie had always been a congenial child. The ladies at the bordello had passed him around so much it was a miracle he knew who his mama was. She hadn’t expected him to be so friendly with Gabe, but he had been. With a sigh, she nodded. “Probably.”
Grinning, Baron scooted to the end of his chair. “Hey, little guy. You want to sit with me?”
“You’ll have to pick him up. I doubt he’ll just come to you.”
Baron rose, hovering over her. Then he surprised her and bent to his knees. From his pocket, he pulled a leather strap with several keys attached and jingled them in front of Jamie. The boy’s gaze lifted, and he babbled something then reached for the keys, taking them from Baron. He shook them, making them clink together, then lifted his gaze to Jo, grinning.
Baron reached out and patted Jamie’s knee. “That makes a fun noise, doesn’t it?”
Jamie’s excited chatter warmed Jo’s heart, but having Baron so close did little to soothe her taut nerves.
Baron clapped his hands together. “You want to come to me, huh, Jamie?”
The boy shook the keys again, and they flew from his hand, landing on the floor. Baron reached down and picked them up, jiggling them. Jamie squealed and lunged for them. Jo started to grab him, but Baron beat her to it and picked up her son. He stood, shaking the keys, and Jamie claimed them.
“He closely resembles you, but I see Mark in him, too.” His brow furrowed and his gaze shot to hers. “He doesn’t know about Jamie, does he?”
Jo stood. “No, and I hope you won’t tell him.”
“Why not? He has a right to know, don’t you think?”
Evidently, he thought her marriage was a legitimate one. Jo lifted her chin. “No, I don’t. I told him I was carrying his child, and do you know what your brother did?”
Baron shook his head, his interest obvious.
“He boarded up the store and left town—without me.”
His mouth dropped open for a moment, and his eyes widened. Then he pursed his lips and blew a loud breath from his nose. “I’m so sorry. I wish I’d known. I would have helped you.”
Jo hadn’t expected his sympathy. If anything, she thought he’d side with Mark. “It wasn’t your responsibility.”
He ran his hand over Jamie’s head. Her son had leaned back against him, his eyes drooping, the keys lying in one hand in his lap.
Baron looked toward the window. “I’ve been cleaning up Mark’s messes all of my life.”
Jo stiffened. “Jamie is not one of your brother’s messes. He’s my son.”
His apologetic gaze shot back to hers. “I was thinking of the store, not Jamie. Please forgive me for not making that clear.”
Jo felt as if her emotions were churning at the speed of a runaway train. “All right. I understand.”
“What happened after Mark left? Did you return here?”
Jo tensed. This was the part she didn’t want to talk about. “Um … no, I didn’t.”
“But where did you go?”
“Oklahoma City.” Jo winced. Maybe she shouldn’t have told him the truth in case Badger or one of his cronies came to the store, asking about her. Jo reached for the hand Baron held across Jamie’s stomach, touching the back of it. “Please, you can’t tell anyone we’re here—if someone should ask. Sarah’s life could be in danger if you do.” Not to mention her own.
His eyes widened, and he obviously wanted to ask another question, but he was quiet for a long moment. Finally, he nodded. “I don’t see as it’s anyone’s business.”
Relief washed through her. He was different from Mark. If Mark thought he could earn a coin, he would tell people anything they wanted to hear, no matter the cost to others. He’d use a person and then toss that person out, just like he’d done with her.
Baron glanced down at Jamie then lifted his head, a look of wonder on his face. “He fell asleep.”
“I guess he feels safe with you.”
Baron caught her gaze. “He is safe with me—and so are you. I’m not the man my brother is.”
Jo nodded. “I can tell, even though I don’t know you well.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.”
“Was Mark always the way he is?”
“As far back as I can remember. I was my father’s favorite, I suppose because I was the oldest. He groomed me to help in his business. Mother latched onto Mark, spoiling and babying him. He always had a quick smile with big dimples and learned at a young age to wield them like weapons.”
Jo remembered the first time she met Mark, and that description fit him perfectly. If only she’d known then what she did now about him, but knowing her stubbornness and her desire to find a wealthy man, it wouldn’t have mattered at the time.
“I want to do whatever I can to help you, Joline.”
“You can call me Jo, like everyone else, but I don’t want your help. I’m not one of Mark’s messes, either.” In truth, she was, but she didn’t want his help because he felt obligated. She wouldn’t let herself get indebted to another man. They only wanted one thing from a woman, and she was done paying their price.
“Then let me help Jamie. He’ll need clothes as he grows, shoes, all kinds of things. It would please me to provide for him.”
“It’s my place to take care of my son, not yours. If you really want to help, you can give me a job.”
Sarah stuck a bite of eggs in her mouth as she glanced around the table, still amazed at how the Coulter family had welcomed her into their home. She almost felt as though she
were a member of the family. Even Luke, Gabe’s foreman, always sought her out whenever he came into the room and flashed his warm smile at her. He always joined the family for breakfast so that he and Gabe could plan their day. He ate with the ranch hands at the other meals, although Sarah rather wished he could join the family for lunch and supper.
As she reached for a biscuit, the ruffle on her sleeve nearly touched the butter. She lifted her arm higher, not wanting to soil the pretty calico dress that Lara had sewn for her, as well as an apron to wear over it when she did her chores. It still amazed her that Lara hadn’t demanded anything in return for the dress. In fact, it seemed to have pleased her to make the dress. She said it was a gift—and she was working on a second one, a gold-and-brown-striped fabric that Jo had said would look good with her eyes. Not since she lived with her mother had she felt cared for—maybe even loved.
When they’d first left Oklahoma City, she’d figured Jo would dump her somewhere, but she had more than kept her word. That wasn’t something she expected white people to do, especially for her. But Jo and the Coulter family weren’t most people. Her Indian blood did not matter to them.
Luke cleared his throat. “I reckon y’all heard there’s talk that the government will be opening the Cherokee Strip for settlers, probably by another land run.”
Sarah glanced at Luke then ducked her head. She enjoyed the way the handsome cowboy’s blue eyes twinkled. He was always happy and friendly.
Gabe nodded. “I read about that in the Guthrie Ledger. There may be more land than was available in the rush of ’89.”
“How much more?” Luke shoved in his last bite of food.
“Don’t know yet.”
Luke pushed his plate back. “I’m hoping to take a shot at some of that land.”
Gabe frowned. “You’re my right-hand man. I’d sure hate to lose you, but you know I won’t hold you back from gettin’ your own place. If things don’t work out, you’ll always have a home here.”
“I appreciate that more’n I can say.”
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