A Love to Have and to Hold

by Linda Ford

  “I beg your pardon. I hadn’t realized being a cowboy eliminated danger.” She kept her face expressionless but hoped he’d be able to tell she was teasing.

  “Doesn’t eliminate it, of course. But cowboys are tough.” He drew himself up tall and looked down his nose at her. “Invincible, even.”

  She half rose and leaned over to tap his head where she knew it was still tender from being hit with a pistol. “Seems to me you might be exaggerating.”

  He barely managed not to blink. “There might be some exceptions,” he said in a wounded tone.

  She sank back to her chair and picked up her pencil. “Any more events?”

  “It would be nice if there was a trick roper.”

  She grinned. “You have two weeks to perfect the skill.”

  He guffawed. “Maybe if I had two years.” He grew thoughtful. “I once knew a man who could do all sorts of tricks. I wonder where he is now. Wouldn’t it be great if we could find him?”

  “Walker. I assume we will have the rodeo on a Saturday. That gives us fifteen days. There isn’t time to hunt down an old acquaintance.” She bent over the paper again. “Now I’ll begin a list of what we need to do.”

  Handbills

  Posters

  Set entry fees and admission price

  “Guess that needs to be first.”

  Where to hold it.

  “Will there be prizes for the winners?” she asked.

  “I suppose so.”

  She added it to the list and looked up. “Anything else?”

  “You tell me. You’re the expert.”

  “Not at rodeos. I think that will do. I hope someone will let us know if we’ve left anything out.” They discussed fees, admission, and prizes, and then she cut paper into quarters.

  She put the ink bottle between them and gave him a pen. “We need handbills. The more the better, I suppose. Norm can hand them out at the store. I’m sure we can get Jimmy and Mickey to give them out at the livery barn and Sylvie at the diner.” She began to print letters. Glory Rodeo. Come one, come all. Money raised goes to buy books for the school. She listed the events, the costs, and the date.

  Walker had not written a thing.

  “Something wrong?”

  “Nope. But we better make sure our handbills say the same thing.” He took her finished product and carefully copied the words.

  Josie smiled at the way he chewed his bottom lip in concentration. She studied him a moment. One thing she’d noted about him was the effort he put into whatever he worked at. He measured carefully before he cut a length of wood. He aligned things exactly. He always put in a solid day’s work.

  How often in the last couple of years she was with her uncle had she tried to convince him it would take less effort to make an honest living than it required to cheat and steal and con others. He’d laughed and said it wasn’t half as much fun.

  She must have sighed, for Walker looked at her. His expression grew serious.

  “Something wrong?”

  She shivered. “No. Just an unwelcome memory.”

  “Wanna tell me about it?” His gaze was warm and inviting.

  She thought of all the times she’d ached to tell someone what her prior life had been like. Longed for someone to ease away her regrets and shame. Yes, she knew God forgave her. But she walked through life knowing she would carry her guilt until she reached heaven when God would finally lift the burden from her shoulders. The words raced to her tongue, but she clamped her teeth together to hold them back. There was far too much to lose by confessing. Not only Walker’s friendship but her parents’ reputation in the community. Her own acceptance.

  She shook her head. “Just one of those things that comes and goes from time to time.”

  His gaze did not falter. “If you ever feel the need to talk, I’m a fair, good listener.” He gave a pleased look. “My Ma said so.”

  She chuckled. “Then it must be so.”

  “You won’t forget it?”

  “I won’t.” Not even if she tried. And she intended to. Just as she intended to keep her past hidden even though it meant she must guard her heart against her growing attraction to Walker.

  He was everything she didn’t want—homeless, a drifter, honest.

  And everything she did want—kind, fun, and honest.

  Wanting did not make such things possible for her.

  Chapter 9

  Walker watched the play of emotions on Josie’s face. Her mouth worked as she appeared to fight an inner battle. It was plain to see that something about the unexpected memory had upset her. He wanted to touch her, soothe her, and assure her that her memories had no hold on her. But he was reluctant to startle her. She promised to remember he was a good listener, but the way she drew in air and stilled her face to reveal nothing, he guessed she would not be confiding in him any time soon.

  She picked up her forgotten pen and bent over the piece of paper. “We have a lot of these to do and not much time to do them.”

  He returned his attention to printing the notices. It was slow work for him because he wanted the announcement to be neat. As he worked, memories came to his mind too, and he began to talk.

  “I attended school in town one year only. Other than that, my parents taught me my lessons.” He chuckled. “I wonder if the teacher wished I had stayed out in the country.” He grew thoughtful as he remembered those difficult days. “It was right after the ranch had been sold. Pa hadn’t decided what to do yet, so we lived in town, and he helped out at the feed store. I was not happy to be stuck in town and didn’t mind letting everyone know that I thought it was unfair.”

  His hands had grown still, and he noticed Josie’s had as well. Her gaze was riveted to him. He tried to smile but couldn’t force his lips to obey him.

  “The ranch meant a lot to you, didn’t it?”

  “You could say that.” He heard the bitter note in his voice. “I know it’s over and done with, but to this day, I regret that they sold it. I guess at that point I felt homeless.”

  “Perhaps you still do. Could it be the reason you don’t see yourself settling down?”

  He hadn’t ever thought of it, but now that he did, it made perfect sense. “Guess I don’t expect to ever feel that sense of belonging and…I don’t know…maybe ownership, I felt back then.”

  “So, it’s easier to keep moving.”

  “It has been.” Their gazes locked as a new thought grew inside his head and in his heart. “Maybe I needed something or someone to make me feel like I could settle.”

  She held his gaze a moment longer, no doubt seeing the truth of what he said. That he might find a reason here to put down roots right here. She blinked, and he felt an invisible door slap shut between them.

  “I hope you find it,” she murmured.

  Did their growing attraction mean nothing to her? Or was he mistaken in thinking it was mutual? Was his penniless, homeless state so important that she couldn’t see who he was?

  Down the hall, a door slammed. A pot banged with a metallic twang as someone set it on the stove.

  “Oh my.” Josie pushed to her feet. “I should be helping with the meal.” She rushed toward the door then returned to cover the ink. She wiped both pens and set aside the dry handbills. “I guess we’ll have to finish these later.”

  She swept from the room.

  He followed more slowly. He couldn’t help but notice she didn’t say when later would be.

  They were about to sit down for dinner when the sound of horse hooves drew Josie to the window. “It’s Flora. She’s leading a horse.”

  Jacob joined her at the window. “I wonder what she’s up to.”

  They watched for a moment, then Jacob returned to the table.

  Josie went to the cupboard. “I’ll set a place for her.” She put out another set of dishes, all the while avoiding looking at Walker.

  It pained him that she so thoroughly shut him out.

  Flora burst through the door. “Pa, I br
ought you a new horse.” She looked around the table, greeting each one. Her gaze stopped at Josie.

  Walker wondered what she saw. Then she looked at him. “Got another horse you might be interested in. He’d be just right for you.” She sat at the place prepared for her.

  “I’ll bear that in mind.” He needed to earn more money before he could purchase a horse. Not that he minded taking time away from his labors to work on the rodeo plan.

  “We’re going to have a rodeo,” Donny announced as soon as he got a chance to speak.

  “That a fact?” Flora looked around the table and satisfied it was, she asked, “Whose idea is this?”

  “Walker’s.” Donny beamed with pride to be the one to say so.

  Flora demanded all the information. Walker filled her in.

  “Horse races?” she said. “I’ll be entering that one.”

  Jacob began to protest.

  Flora held her palm up. “With Kade’s approval, of course.”

  Her pa sat back, a resigned look on his face.

  “Nice of you to bring a horse,” Mrs. Kinsley said, likely hoping to shift the conversation to a less treacherous topic. “But your father isn’t up to riding just yet.”

  “That’s fine. He can make friends with the horse first. Always a good move.”

  The meal ended, and Flora and Josie began to clean the kitchen. Walker guessed there would be no more work done on notices today and returned to the addition. There was still plenty to do—doors to hang, shelves and cupboards to make and, as soon as it arrived, a stove to install.

  He could see out two windows and the outside door as he worked. Josie and Flora walked by, Donny hard on their heels. Where were they going? He leaned to the side. They passed the garden and turned down the back street. Were they going to visit friends?

  Over the days and especially at church, he’d seen lots of young men and women, older ones too, speaking to Josie and her sisters. But was there someone special? A male friend? He jerked back to his work and hammered in a nail with extra vigor. It wasn’t as if he cared. Besides, hadn’t she made it clear that first day that she wasn’t interested in anyone?

  And if she was, it would not be a penniless, homeless cowboy.

  Maybe he’d get a job nearby and make a lot of money and buy himself a ranch. One as nice as the one he thought would be his back in Texas.

  He laughed at his convoluted thinking. His only plans were to find his uncle, deliver the message he’d promised his ma to deliver, and then…

  And then?

  He couldn’t give an answer. Rather than dwell on it, he set about measuring and planning a cupboard for the workroom.

  A little later, he looked up at the sound of voices. It was Mr. and Mrs. Kinsley going to look at the new horse. Walker watched. A fine-looking animal—a light bay with a proud carriage. He would ask Flora what the other horse looked like.

  He heard her voice and saw that the two girls had joined their parents. Flora was telling her pa about the horse.

  Walker made up his mind to speak to Flora and jogged over to join them. “Tell me about the other horse you have.”

  “He’s a dark bay gelding. Beautiful horse. I didn’t want to part with him, but I have two more youngsters coming up and can’t keep all of them.”

  “He’s a good horse? Strong? Good for long days carrying a man?”

  “He’s a big, well-muscled horse. I trained him and broke him. So, he’s the best there is.” She spoke with some heat.

  He chuckled. “I’m not arguing. Could you save him for me?”

  “I sure don’t mind keeping him around.” She quirked her eyebrows at him. “You planning to leave soon?”

  “I need to earn enough money to buy him and the necessary tack I need.”

  “Huh.” Her gaze went to Josie and then returned to him. She studied him a moment. He steeled himself to reveal nothing.

  “Huh,” she said again.

  He stole a quick glance at Josie, but she seemed completely consumed with watching the horse.

  “What are you going to call him, Pa?” Josie asked.

  “I’m sure Flora has named him, so I don’t see any reason to change it. What’s his name, Flora?”

  “Tic.” The horse pricked up his ears and whinnied.

  “Tic?” Her pa looked surprised. “I didn’t expect that.”

  Flora’s cheek flared pink. “Well, I started out calling him Majestic, but that just got too hard to say, so I shortened it to Tic.”

  Her pa laughed. “Tic it is. Here, Tic.” He held out a handful of oats to the horse, who looked at him warily and remained at a distance.

  “He’ll take his time,” Flora said. “But once he’s decided he likes you, he will be loyal.” She climbed over the fence and went to the horse, petting him and saying good-bye, then jumped to her own mount. “I best get home. Kade misses me something awful when I’m gone.” With a merry laugh, she rode away.

  Walker realized he should have asked her what she’d named his horse. “I hope she didn’t name the other horse a sissy name like Sue. I once knew of a man who had a horse named that, and it got so he couldn’t say the animal’s name around any of the cowboys.”

  Josie laughed harder at the idea of naming a horse Sue than the comment deserved. It was her nerves. She continually struggled to control her feelings about Walker, and it put her on edge. Just when she was beginning to think he might be the kind of man who would give her the security she sought, he did something to remind her he didn’t mean to settle. Like talking about buying a horse from Flora. Good for long days carrying a man. That meant only one thing. Walker meant to ride north. Perhaps he would never settle down.

  Not that it mattered. She had her own plans. She hurried to the house and up the stairs to get her sewing basket. She carried it down to the kitchen. Ma and Pa had returned, and Walker hovered in the doorway. Stella had gone back outside, taking her knitting with her.

  Ma looked at Josie. “You’re planning to sew?”

  “I have to finish this dress. I’m going to ask Norm if I can display it in the store by the yard goods. If I can do that before the rodeo, lots of people will see it. I might get some work.” She hadn’t ever thought of hanging her dress in the store, but the words came out in a rush. It was a good idea. She should have thought of it before. An urgency to finish her garment made her rush to the table and pull out her needle and thread.

  Pa cleared his throat.

  Josie looked up.

  “I thought there was some need to get handbills made. And a poster.” His voice was gentle yet scolding.

  “Oh, I guess it slipped my mind.” She put the needle and thread back in the basket. “I’ll do this later.” She rose and glanced at Walker. “Shall we?” She led the way to the sitting room and resumed her place. In a few deft movements, she opened the ink and began printing another announcement.

  Walker sat across from her, dipped his pen in the ink, and bent his head over his own bit of paper.

  Tension made her hand jerk. The nib caught, and ink spattered across the page. She quickly blotted it, but the announcement was ruined.

  She felt Walker’s watchful interest, but kept her head bowed over the new piece of paper she began working on.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  “Why do you ask?” She realized her reply gave him the right to continue asking questions. She should have simply said no and ended any further discussion.

  “Do I really have to say? You’re so tense you’re almost tearing the paper.”

  She paused, trying to lighten her touch.

  He set his pen down. “I don’t know what I said to upset you, but whatever it was, it was unintentional. And I’m sorry. If you’d rather I didn’t help with printing these, I’ll leave.”

  Josie scrambled for a reply. If he left, it would take her twice as long. She’d never get a chance to finish her dress. Besides, it would be lonely.

  He pushed back from the table.


  She lifted her head and met his gaze. Guarded. Full of regret. Her heart smote her. He hadn’t said or done anything she should be upset about. He’d always been clear that he was moving on. Not ready to settle. Except he had hinted that the right place, the right person, would change his mind. She’d wondered if he meant her. But then he’d talked to Flora, and she realized she must have read more into his words than he meant.

  He began to rise.

  “I’ll never finish these on my own. Please stay and help.”

  He studied her. His look went on and on.

  She drew in a sharp breath. What did he think he saw? What did he hope to see? For the space of half a heartbeat, she thought of opening the doors to her secret. Her ribs refused to work. Her head started to pound for want of a breath.

  He sighed. He’d wanted more but she’d disappointed him. “I am committed to helping you make this event successful.” He sat down and began to print the letters.

  He’d said the right things, but his words left her hollow inside. Alone. Fearful. Why must her past always haunt her?

  They worked until she deemed it time to help with supper, although Ma had come to the room and said she and Stella were preparing it.

  The pile of handbills was growing very slowly.

  Walker looked at the stack too. “There aren’t near enough to leave at three businesses. Shouldn’t we have them done and delivered by Saturday so those coming to town can get them?”

  “Definitely. We should probably deliver them tomorrow, so they’ll be available to the early comers.”

  “I’ll keep working and come back after supper.”

  “I’ll come back too.” It meant she wouldn’t have the evening for sewing, but once these handbills were done, she’d concentrate on her project.

  Walker stayed behind as she went to the kitchen.

  When supper was ready, Donny ran down the hall to call him. As Walker came to the kitchen, he rubbed his neck and groaned. “Reminds me of why I didn’t like school.”

  “I don’t like it either,” Donny said.

  “How would you know?” His mother spoke gently. “You’ve never been.”