by Linda Ford
She watched him, her expression full of longing.
He continued. “I’ve found a sense of belonging, of home, of security. I can see myself settling down in this area. Do you—”
She pressed her fingertips to his mouth. “Please don’t say anything more.”
“Why not? I want to tell you how I feel.”
“There are things about me you don’t know. Things that might change your mind.”
He cupped his hand to the back of her neck. “Nothing could do that. I know your past was troubling, upsetting. But your past doesn’t matter to me. All that matters is who you are now.” He saw words building in her and hurried on before she could voice them. “I know you need to feel secure. I’ll buy some land and build a house.”
She shook her head. “I have never wanted to tell anyone the truth about who I am. What I am. But before you start making plans, you need to know everything.”
“It won’t matter.” He was sure of his growing affection for her. Knew it could be called something deeper, more lasting. There was nothing she could say or do to change that. “The truth can’t hurt anyone.”
“Don’t be so certain.” She sat up straight, her hands knotted together in her lap. “I told you my uncle raised me. He didn’t have gainful employment, so I never knew if we would have to leave in the middle of the night. I learned to sleep with my coat and shoes close by. I could not lose my coat, because inside the pocket, deep in a corner where it wouldn’t get lost, was a thimble that had belonged to my mother. It was the only thing I had of hers.”
Walker wanted to reach for her, cover her hands with his, pull her into his arms, but he sensed her memories made her fragile.
“I promised myself that when I grew up, I would never be without a home. One that was mine. One that I couldn’t be chased from.”
“I can promise you that.”
She shuddered. “There’s more.” She turned at the sound of approaching horses. “Flora and Kade. What do they want?”
The pair rode toward them. Kade called to them. “We’re on our way home but wanted to deliver a message. There’s a man at the house asking after you, Walker.”
“Did he give his name?”
“No, but he said it was of utmost urgency that he speak to you. I suggest you return to town.”
Walker hesitated. He wanted to hear what Josie had been about to say. But Josie was already gathering up the picnic things.
They waved good-bye to Kade and Flora and drove back to town.
Josie didn’t say anything, but the look of relief on her face made him understand she was glad to have been interrupted.
“We’ll finish this conversation later,” he said.
She nodded but kept her gaze averted.
What could she possibly have to say that was so bad in her eyes? Maybe that was the answer. She’d been a child, and whatever she had to confess was something that seemed awful to a child.
Relieved to have figured that out, he turned his attention to who might want to speak to him. Was someone unhappy with how the rodeo had been conducted? If so, he would do what he could to soothe the ruffled feathers.
They delivered the buggy to Mickey. They took the basket to Sylvie, thanked her for her kindness, then walked to the manse. A horse was tied at the corrals. A fine-looking horse. He might like to own a horse that looked that good.
Whoever wanted to see him must be waiting inside, so he and Josie went to the house.
He opened the door and stared at the man sitting at the table visiting with the Kinsleys. He hadn’t seen the man in twelve years, but he recognized him immediately.
“Uncle Paul.”
Ma and Pa introduced Mr. Jones to Josie. They didn’t need to add that he was Walker’s uncle. Walker had already informed everyone of that fact.
Josie stared at the man. She saw a family resemblance in the blue eyes and the shape of their faces. She looked from Walker to his uncle. They wore matching expressions of caution.
The man rose to his feet. A tall, lean man. He had a thick head of brown hair that contained silvery strands. No doubt Walker would look much like him when he aged.
He took a step toward Walker then hesitated. “I came as soon as I got your letter.”
“I didn’t expect you to.”
Josie heard the strain in his words.
“I have always hoped I would get a chance to talk to you…explain…”
Ma and Pa rose. They signaled Josie to follow them from the room.
Walker’s uncle held up his hand. “We’ll go over to the corral to talk.” He went to the door and waited.
Walker stood as if rooted to the floor.
His uncle’s voice was gentle, pleading. “This is something you might want to hear on your own.”
Walker slipped through the door. His uncle followed as they crossed to where the horse stood.
Josie went to the window to watch.
“Let them have their privacy,” Pa said.
“I can’t hear them.” She moved away, pretending to be busy with something at the cupboard where she could still see them. “Walker was sure surprised to see his uncle.”
Ma agreed. “Mr. Jones says he hasn’t seen Walker or talked to him for twelve years. That’s a long time for family to be apart. I hope they are able to resolve whatever it was that went wrong.”
“Me too.” But she knew family wasn’t always a blessing.
As she watched, Walker recoiled as if struck, but his uncle had not lifted a hand. Rather, he held his palms upward in a placating way.
Walker shook his head.
His uncle nodded slowly then mounted his horse and rode down the back road toward Main Street.
Walker didn’t move. His posture made her shudder. She’d expected seeing his uncle and talking to him would have been a happy moment. The way his shoulders were drawn up and his hands curled into fists said it hadn’t
She waited, willing him to relax. When he didn’t, she went to the door. “His uncle is gone. I’m going to talk to him.” She closed the door before her parents could protest.
Walker didn’t look at her, didn’t even seem to be aware of her as she reached his side.
“Walker.” She spoke his name softly.
He shuddered.
“Are you all right?”
A play of emotions crossed his face. Shock. Surprise. Anger. “I don’t know what I am. I don’t even know who I am.”
“That’s a strange thing to say. You’re Walker Jones, aren’t you?” Wasn’t he? Would it matter if he wasn’t? Not in the least. She didn’t care if he was Walker Jones or John Brown.
Walker looked at Pa’s horse. “If I had a horse right now, I would gallop away until we both collapsed from exhaustion.”
“Then perhaps it’s a good thing you don’t have one. Do you mind telling me what’s wrong?” Tension tightened the muscles in her neck. This was the man to whom she had almost confessed her most fearful secrets. And she hardly recognized him.
He grabbed her hand. “If I can’t ride, I’ll have to walk.”
Main Street was still busy with those who had come for the rodeo and stayed to enjoy the rest of the day. They crossed to the river. A family had a blanket spread out and were enjoying a picnic. They called out a greeting, but Walker rushed on.
Josie waved as they passed.
Two more families sat along the bank. Walker hurried onward as if he hadn’t even seen them. He kept up a pace that had her trotting.
It had been several minutes since they had encountered anyone, and Josie was getting out of breath. She tugged on his hand. “Walker, slow down.”
He ground to a halt and looked around as if only now realizing where he was. “Sorry. Let’s sit.”
They sat on the grassy bank. The water murmured past. Ducks quacked a protest at their intrusion. The setting was peaceful. The two people on the bank were not.
Josie waited, not wanting to push Walker. If he needed to talk, she was ready to listen.
If he didn’t want to talk….
Well, she would be patient.
“My uncle says he has a big ranch near Bella Creek. He has a big house.”
“That’s nice.” Though she couldn’t imagine why that would upset anyone.
“Nice for who?” He sucked in air. “He told me why he left and why the ranch was sold.”
“I take it you didn’t like the reasons.”
Walker kept his gaze on the water gurgling over the rocks. “He said he’s my father.”
She jolted. “Your uncle is your father?”
Walker began slowly. “Seems my mother and my uncle had a—what did he call it?—an ‘indiscretion’ twenty-five years ago, and I was the result.” Bitterness edged his words.
“My parents were married at the time. Adultery is what it was.” Each word was spit out like it had soured in his mouth.
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t understand how my uncle and my mother could have—” He stopped. Swallowed hard. Shook his head. “Neither do I.”
“What did your father think?”
“He didn’t know. He thought I was his son, just as I did.”
“Your poor mother. How difficult it must have been for her to keep that secret?”
“He—” He jabbed his thumb toward the house to indicate he meant his uncle. “Wanted to tell me when I turned twelve. That would mean telling my father. My mother begged him not to. Said it would do more harm than good. They argued. She made him promise to keep their secret.”
“I’m guessing that’s when he left.”
“He said he couldn’t live with the lie.” He grabbed a rock near his foot and threw it into the river so hard that water splashed up on them. “But it was all right for them to let me live with a lie. He’s my father. Some father. He couldn’t even tell me the truth.”
She didn’t say anything, understanding that his world had been shattered.
He pounded out the words. “If they’d just told me the truth.”
Hadn’t he, only a few hours ago, said the truth couldn’t hurt you? She wondered if he would say it now. “Maybe they were right not to tell you. You know the truth now, and you aren’t handling it very well.” She was so glad she hadn’t told him her secrets. Was this how he would have reacted? Anger? Blame?
He turned away. “I thought you’d understand.”
“I understand you’re hurt. You’re upset. Not sure who you are now. But Walker, how does any of this change who you are or what you want?”
Would he realize how important his answer was to her?
Walker stared at the water. “My uncle—How can I ever think of him as my father?—says he’s always hoped I’d show up. He built a big house and a big ranch that he hoped to share with me some day. He wants me to become his partner.”
Josie touched his arm, the coldness of his skin matching the coldness aching in her bones. Was he going to leave? Had he forgotten his promise to give her a home? When would she stop hoping it would be possible? “Is that what you want?”
He closed his eyes. “I don’t know what to think. I don’t know who I am.” He jerked to his feet and pulled her up. “I need to think.” They returned to the house, their steps every bit as hurried as the outward journey had been.
He released her hand before they stepped into the kitchen. Her parents still sat at the table, a Bible open between them.
“Mr. Kinsley, may I borrow your horse for a couple of hours? I want to ride out and get the horse Flora has for me.”
“Of course, you may.”
Walker twisted his hat between his white-knuckled fingers. “Could I ask for my wages? I need to pay for the horse and buy a saddle.”
“Of course.” Pa left the room and returned in a few minutes with some money. “I hope this will be enough for you.”
Walker barely looked at the bills before he stuffed them into his shirt. “I’m sorry I didn’t finish the job.”
With every word, Josie’s heart dipped toward the soles of her feet.
He strode from the house, and she followed. As he saddled Pa’s horse, she managed to put her fear into words. “Walker, are you leaving?”
“I need time to think.” He paused as he prepared to get into the saddle. “I need to figure this out.”
For a moment, he looked like he might say something more, then he blinked. He might as well have pulled a thick wooden door over his thoughts with that simple flicker of his eyelids. He had closed himself off from her.
He rode from the yard in the direction of Flora and Kade’s place.
Josie watched him long after he was out of sight.
With leaden feet, she made her way back to the house.
She still had her plans and her dreams. They had to be enough.
Chapter 14
Somehow Josie made it to her room without revealing her disappointment and crawled into bed. She slept fitfully, jerking awake to the sound of hoofbeats. She listened. Nothing. Only her wishful imagination. She woke three more times to silence except for the pounding of her heart.
The next morning, she hurried downstairs and glanced toward the corrals. No horses. He hadn’t come back, not even to return Pa’s horse. No doubt Flora and Kade would bring it when they came for church.
Church. She dreaded sitting alone on the pew, missing Walker beside her. Even more, missing him. But she would not plead illness. Instead, she made breakfast, laughed with the children, smiled at Stella and her parents.
She again heard hoofbeats but knew better than to think it was more than her imagination. But the sound grew louder.
“Someone coming,” Pa said, and went to the window. “It’s Walker’s uncle.” He opened the door. “Join us for breakfast. There’s plenty.”
Mr. Jones glanced past Pa. “Is Walker here? I’d like to speak to him.”
Pa shook his head. “He’s gone.”
A look of pain crossed the man’s face. Much the same as the look Josie had seen on Walker’s face. “Did he say where he was going?”
“Not to me,” Pa said, and turned. “Josie?”
“He didn’t say anything to me.”
“Then I’ll be headed back to the ranch. If you happen to see him, please tell him I am anxious to hear from him.”
Pa watched as the man returned to his horse. “There goes a man who looks like the world has fallen down around him. Josie, what happened?”
She looked about the table. “It’s not my story to tell.” But she ached to share the news with her parents. She waited until the meal was over and the dishes done, knowing her parents would make a stop in their bedroom before going to church. She followed them.
“May I speak with you?”
“By all means.” Pa led them to the parlor and closed the door.
She told them what Walker had told her.
Ma closed her eyes. “That poor boy. That poor man.”
“We must pray for healing for them both.” Pa bowed his head and prayed.
Josie expected it would only be about Walker and his uncle, but Pa added, “Help Josie also find healing and release from her past. For Your honor and glory. Amen.”
“Pa, I’m fine.” She gave her bravest smile.
He patted her shoulder. “Sometimes the past is hard to be shed of.” He took a step toward the door.
“Wait,” she said. “I don’t know how much I should say to others.”
“As you said, it’s not your story to tell.”
“What about my sisters?” They were the only ones she was thinking of.
Pa looked thoughtful. “We’ve never been a family to keep secrets.” His words smote her.
He continued. “I think we should be honest with them and ask them to pray. Your sisters can be trusted not to gossip.”
“Thank you.” She filled her lungs. “I wasn’t looking forward to having to carry such a big secret.” There wasn’t room inside for more.
A few minutes later, she went to church with them.
“Where is he?” they asked.
Thankfully, Flora could answer. “He came and got his horse last evening. Said he had things to deal with and rode to the west.” She gave Josie a sympathetic glance. “He had the look of a man who wanted to ride deep into the mountains and get lost. I’m so sorry, Josie.”
Josie hoped her smile looked more real than it felt. “I always knew he would leave. He never made a secret of it. Just as I’ve never made a secret of my plans to have my own business.”
She was grateful the service began then, making more conversation impossible. The music sounded flat in her ears, and Pa’s words echoed so badly inside her head, she couldn’t understand them.
Several people came up to her and asked about Walker’s absence. When she said he had left to take care of another matter, they looked surprised and disappointed, then someone asked how much money had been raised.
With a start, she realized she’d forgotten about the fund raiser.
Pa overheard the question and came to her rescue. “The school board will get together tomorrow and count it. We’ll decide then how to choose what books to order.”
Her sisters and their husbands joined them for dinner after church. Cole’s aunt and mother had not come, and Matt had stayed with them.
Stella had taken the children and gone to visit her friend.
As Josie helped serve the meal, she put off the many questions her sisters asked. She ignored the way their curious gazes went to the chair Walker would have normally occupied. She waited until they had all started to eat then put her fork down.
“Pa, should I tell them?”
“You’re the one who heard it firsthand.”
She looked down at her plate, drew in a calming breath, and looked across the table at Eve. “Walker’s uncle is his father.” She would have chuckled at their reaction except it hurt too much to try.
As soon as they settled down, she told them everything, including how surprised Walker was. “And upset.”
