As she improved, he continued to visit, always bringing the Bible and the Empire chair. Nearly two months later, they still held evening visits, only now they spent the time talking across the kitchen table. The one topic they never seemed to cover was how long Jed would continue to visit her table or how long he would carry on the charade of running the landing.
Soon the new year would dawn, and on its heels would come the spring. Grace smiled and gave thanks for living in Texas, a place where the icy winds of winter merely teased but did not linger. If only she could be certain the ranger would be there to share in the joy of it. He’d become a part of the family in the months since his arrival, and even the baby sometimes quieted to the ranger’s touch when Grace’s did not satisfy.
She pictured the dark-haired ranger with the children and smiled. For such a big man, he certainly had a way with her babies. He’d begun to teach Bennett tales from the Bible, and Mary, ever the tagalong, had insisted he teach her as well.
Indeed, they’d all become quite attached to Captain Harte. He would never replace her precious Ben—nothing ever would—but he had somehow managed to carve a tiny spot in her heart and a huge place in her life.
This evening, as Jed settled across the table from her, she noticed a paper half hidden in the pages of the Bible. It looked to be a letter, although only closer inspection could say for sure. If Jed noticed her interest, he gave no indication.
Resolving to put curiosity out of her mind, Grace threaded a needle and picked up one of Mary’s gowns from the mending basket. Now, if she could just keep her attention on her task and off the ranger. She cast a quick glance beneath her lashes.
Tall and arguably easy on the eye, Jed Harte made a figure to be reckoned with, despite the lopsided grin on his face. Lately, although she took great pains not to let it show, that lopsided grin had begun to set off butterflies in her stomach.
As he’d done so many times, Jed began to thumb through the pages. “Grace, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to something, and I’d be obliged if I could ask your opinion on it.”
She nodded and continued with her mending.
“I’m wrestling with something I can’t get a rope around. That ever happen to you?” He removed the paper—definitely a letter—and let the Bible fall open.
“Of course,” she answered, looking away with a start when he caught her staring.
“Well, this is new territory for me. I reckon it all started back when the Lord caught up with me.” He reached for the knife and cut off a large slice of fresh pecan pie. “I figured my ranger days were behind me.” Pausing to eat a bite, he gave her an expectant look.
“Why?” was all she could think to ask.
“Because when I took the Lord into my life, He washed me clean.” Jed cut a slash through the air with his fork. “No more killing; just preaching.”
Grace paused and rested the needle in the cloth. “But now?”
“But now I’ve gone and made other promises.” He paused to chew another bite of pie. “And I’ve killed.”
She winced at the reference. “You shot a man to protect us, Jed.”
They’d never spoken of what happened that night, and Grace sensed now was still not the time. She searched her mind for another topic to discuss.
“Did I ever tell you that the day I found you I had just asked God to bring me a ranger to help?”
To her surprise, Jed closed the book and pushed away from the table. With his big feet thundering across the floor like a herd of elephants, he stormed out the back door and into the night, leaving the Bible and his plate of barely eaten pie on the table.
Grace dropped her mending into the basket and picked up the Bible. The temptation to open the book and read the letter tugged at her, but she refused to give in. On a whim, she grabbed the plate and set off to find the ranger.
He’d taken to sleeping in one of the empty shacks behind the house, or at least that’s what she’d overheard Uncle Shaw telling Theresa. As soon as she rounded the corner past the summer kitchen, she saw the light shining in a derelict dwelling some distance away.
Bypassing the cozy cottage Theresa and Shaw called home, Grace headed toward the dim light, holding the plate of food on top of the Bible. Before she could knock, the door flew open and the ranger appeared, gun drawn. The Bible, the plate, and the pie clattered to the ground, and she whirled backward, landing in a very unladylike heap on the soft ground.
“What are you doing here?” Jed stuffed the gun into his belt and lifted her easily to her feet, retrieving the Bible as well.
A chill danced across Grace’s spine that could be only partly blamed on the temperature. “Well, I, um—” she began.
“I could have killed you, Grace,” he said on a rush of breath smelling faintly of sugar and pecans.
“Oh, I hardly think so.” She attempted a smile. “Besides, you didn’t even have time to aim.”
In an instant, the chill went out of the air. Suddenly there were only two people in the world, and one of them could have melted into a puddle at any moment. The other, the ranger, looked rightly aggrieved.
“I don’t miss,” he said evenly.
“Oh,” she said, which came out sounding more like a squeak than a word.
For a moment, time stopped while the night sounds swirled around them. Her mind raced to put words to the conflicting thoughts, only to realize they could all be summed up in a single prayer. Lord, what am I doing here?
Abruptly, he released her. “I appreciate the pie,” he said. Without so much as word of good night, he disappeared inside the cabin and promptly extinguished the light.
“I appreciate the pie,” she grumbled under her breath. “I don’t miss,” she added in a voice several octaves lower than her own. “Well, neither do I,” she said as she tossed the remains of the dessert, plate and all, into the pig trough and stormed inside the main house.
The next morning she still fumed about it, although her anger had been tempered by the fact she’d very nearly had some quite unacceptable thoughts about the testy ranger. Well, tonight when he came to sit and discuss the Bible with her, she’d be ready.
“Let’s just see what Ranger Captain Jedadiah Harte has to say about the Golden Rule,” she whispered as she placed a sleepy Adam in the rush basket where he slept.
Through the kitchen window, she noticed the ranger working in the garden, and she longed to be recovered enough to do the same. “I may still be mending, but I don’t have to do it all indoors,” she said to Adam.
She fetched her sewing and took it outside along with the baby and his sleeping basket. Settling into the rocker, she ignored the ranger and resumed her sewing until the sound of a horse and rider coming up the road drew her attention. She watched as the dark-clothed rider dismounted near Jed, and the two men began to speak in earnest before turning to walk toward the house. Putting aside her needle and thread, she cast a quick glance at the basket where her angel continued to sleep soundly, then straightened her skirts and went to meet them.
“Grace, this is Reverend Spivey.” Jed paused to smile at the stranger. “The man who led me to the Lord.”
Jed’s gaze locked with hers, and Grace felt the collision straight down to her toes. Despite her anger over his unexplainably rude behavior last night, the familiar butterflies threatened to return.
“Reverend, this here is Grace Delaney,” Jed continued.
The slight, well-dressed gentleman stared at her with the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen. “Welcome to Delaney’s Landing,” she said.
“Thank you, young lady,” he answered, removing his dusty hat to reveal a thick shock of gray hair. He turned his attention to Jed. “So this is the woman you wrote me about.”
The woman you wrote me about. Grace swallowed her surprise and replaced it with a smile, while Jed’s discomfort showed plainly on his face.
“I reckon,” Jed said slowly, studiously avoiding her gaze.
“Captain Harte indicated you
might be amenable to allowing me to intrude on your hospitality.”
“Of course,” she managed.
“I’ll not be a bother, and I don’t plan to stay but one night,” he added as he turned to place a hand on Jed’s sleeve. “I’ve got business in Galveston, and I must confess I had hoped you might make the ride with me, Captain. Especially in light of the fact the Rangers have offered to let you operate out of the office there while you preach.”
Chapter 7
Well, now,” the ranger said, although his face spoke volumes more.
Obviously he hadn’t intended for her to know this, although he’d certainly been busy making plans. She gave him what she hoped would be an I-don’t-care look. The lopsided smile she’d come to love emerged, and Grace felt what little breakfast she’d eaten threaten to rise at the sight of it.
“It would be my pleasure to have you here,” she said quickly, hoping the numbness she felt couldn’t be heard in her voice. “You’re welcome to stay as long as Mr. Harte does.”
Grace plastered on a bright smile and watched Jed’s fade. If the ranger could consider leaving, then at least he would leave with no idea she would miss him terribly.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just go have Theresa set another place.”
She turned her back on the men and concentrated on walking slowly toward the house until a hand on her wrist tugged her backward. Whirling around, she came face-to-face with Jed Harte.
The lopsided smile had vanished completely. Hers disappeared as well. Even the satisfaction of having him think she wouldn’t miss him had left, replaced by a yawning cavern of emptiness. Not since the dark days after Ben’s death had she felt such a sense of dread.
“I’m sorry, Grace, I know you’re surprised but—”
She held up her free hand to stop him. “Your friend seems like a nice man. I’m sure the two of you will do just fine in Galveston.”
He nodded. “I reckon he is, and I’m sure we would but—”
A sharp tug released her hand, and she turned to take the first of five porch steps. “But he’s going to be hungry after his ride,” she tossed over her shoulder. “Why don’t you show him where he can stable his horse?”
“I already did,” he said. “Stop, Grace,” he added, then picked her up by the waist and set her on her feet in front of him. “Stand still and listen, woman,” he said roughly. “This is important.”
Shading her eyes from the sun, Grace bit back on her anger and disappointment and said a quick prayer for the right words to come. “All right,” she said slowly as she watched the preacher lead his horse toward the barn. “Speak your mind, Ranger.”
He ducked his head and glanced toward the porch and the basket where Adam had begun to make little cooing sounds. Sunlight danced on the inky darkness of Jed’s hair and turned some of the strands a deep golden color. The gold, she realized with a start, matched the amber of his eyes.
Slowly, he turned his gaze on her. A sane woman would have walked away. Grace stood stock-still and stared.
“I’m a man of my word, Grace Delaney,” he said in a low voice. “I told you I’d take care of things around here until your family could show up to claim you, and I don’t reckon that’s something I’d walk away from.”
As his meaning penetrated her heart, it threatened to soar. Lord, please give me the words to answer him, she again prayed.
“Say something,” he said, his voice ragged and laced with what sounded like a thread of desperation. He caught her wrist once more. “Say anything.”
Say good-bye to him, came the answer she hadn’t wanted to hear. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. With care, she pulled out of his grasp to take his hand in hers. “You were forced into that promise, and I’ll not have you bound to it.”
“Doesn’t matter how I agreed to it.” The lopsided smile returned. “Until I know you and the young’uns are taken care of, you’re just going to have to get used to having me around.”
Happiness bubbled to the surface and emerged in a broad grin. “Is that so?”
“Yes, ma’am, that’s so.” The ranger dipped his head as Adam’s whimpering increased. “You’d better go fetch the little feller.”
“Miz Grace,” Theresa called from the kitchen. “We be havin’ company for lunch?”
She cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the woman in the doorway. “Set one extra place at the table, please.”
“Just one?” she asked. “Then what’re you gonna do ’bout those other folks?”
Grace turned to question Theresa, then caught a glimpse of the riders coming toward the house. Her heart sank when she recognized the well-dressed gentlemen. It had been more than a decade since she’d seen them, but she would have known her father, Thomas Beaudry, Sr., and her brother, Tom, anywhere.
Before she could catch her breath, the two riders reached the clearing and the house. “Father,” she whispered, “it’s really you.”
“Grace Mary-Celine Beaudry,” Thomas, Sr., said in a rush of breath. His face paled, and for a moment he looked as if he might slip off his horse. “Your letter said…”
“You’re a sight for sore eyes, Gracie,” Tom said. “And seeing you for myself sure beats a letter.”
Her gaze shifted from the stiff-backed silver-haired judge to her brother, seated casually in the saddle. From Tom’s thick shock of dark curls to his stubborn jaw and soft brown eyes, he looked much as she remembered him at age fourteen. The difference came in the breadth of his shoulders and the length of his legs.
He’d already eclipsed her height before she left, but now, as he climbed out of the saddle, she could see he’d continued to grow until he’d passed the judge as well.
The judge.
Grace swallowed her fear and stared directly into the eyes of her father. Still seated atop a bay mare, the look in those eyes seemed to match the feelings in Grace’s heart. True to his nature, Judge Beaudry returned the stare without comment, leaving Grace to finally look away.
Never had she expected to see him alive. Obviously, he felt the same. Her mind raced as she watched him dismount and stand uncomfortably beside her brother. His eyes scanned the landscape as if he were looking for something.
She cast a glance over her shoulder to the little basket where Adam had been fussing only a few minutes ago. Thankfully, he seemed to have settled back to sleep. When her gaze returned to the men, she saw Tom studying her intently.
“I sure missed you, Gracie.”
Knees weak, Grace tilted to look into her brother’s eyes, and her whole world went with it. With a firm grip, the ranger she’d forgotten stood at her side righted her. He offered a weak smile, one she couldn’t manage to return.
“Jedadiah Harte,” he said, thrusting his hand toward her father. “Pleased to meet you.”
The judge’s eyes narrowed to slits as he slowly acknowledged the gesture. Tom’s handshake bore a bit more enthusiasm, but the wariness he wore like armor could not be missed. “Tom Beaudry,” he said, “and this is my father, Judge Beaudry.”
Jed seemed to be doing a little sizing up of his own, and when he’d finished, he offered the Beaudry men a smile. To Grace, he offered a protective squeeze of her hand, which he quickly released.
“I believe you and I have met, Judge Beaudry,” he said slowly. “Couple of years back I ran into a fellow named Collins. Bart Collins, I believe.”
“Collins?” He shook his head. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”
Jed nodded. “I reckon you see all kinds in your line of work.”
This time her father’s eyes turned on Grace and rested there for a moment. “I suppose I do,” he answered, focusing once more on Jed.
“This Collins fellow, he’d done some dirty work down toward New Orleans, and he was right reluctant to go back. Once I explained it a different way, old Collins up and changed his mind. I believe you tried his case.”
The judge’s wrinkled face softened slightly and a look of recognition began to
grow. Numb, Grace smoothed her skirt and watched in awe as her father actually began to smile. What she wouldn’t have given just once during her girlhood to have him smile at her that way.
At least she’d learned her heavenly Father had no such limits to His compassion. Reminded of Him, she quickly lifted the uncomfortable situation to the Lord in prayer.
“So you’re Ranger Captain Heartless Harte,” the judge said, admiration lacing his words. He cast a glance at Tom, who seemed as surprised as Grace at their father’s reaction. “You know who he is, don’t you, boy?”
Tom nodded. “Anybody who reads a paper knows about Heartless Harte.”
Jed grimaced but said nothing. Finally the clang of the dinner bell broke the silence.
“Perhaps you two would like to wash up before we eat,” Grace said unevenly.
The ranger led the men away while Grace raced to the porch to snag Adam and his basket and escape to the kitchen. Today the comforting smells of sweet potato pie, ham, biscuits, and a mess of fresh collard greens only made her stomach hurt. The baby must have sensed her nervousness because he began to cry.
“Sounds like someone wants his dinner,” Theresa commented. “You go on and feed the little mite, and I’ll see t’ the gentlemens.”
Grace nodded and lifted the baby out of his basket. “Where are Ruth and the children?” she asked as she bundled Adam in his blankets.
“Gone t’ have a picnic.” She gave Grace a sideways look. “Don’t you ’member? You helped those angels pack the hamper last night.”
She did remember, barely.
Adam’s wails calmed as he began to look for his dinner. Scarcely had she carried the baby into the bedroom and begun to nurse him before the sound of heavy footsteps thundered through her parlor. Low, deep voices spoke in even tones, preventing Grace from hearing what they said.
Having so many men in the house at once discomfited her. Even when Ben had been rangering, she’d never had to play hostess to more than a couple of extra men.
Ben.
The thought of him surged like a knife through her stomach as she looked down on his peacefully nursing son. The son he would never know this side of heaven. Tears shimmered but did not fall.
Texas Brides Collection Page 18
