by Linda Ford
Johnny had the means to change things for them.
His mind made up, he trotted out to the barn, saddled up Gray and began the journey toward town. Before he reached the halfway mark, raindrops hit him. He pulled out his slicker and hunkered deep into its folds as the heavens opened. He rode on, sloshing through water running down the tracks of the road. The worst of the storm ended as he reached town, but more dark clouds built over the mountains, warning of more rain.
He had to hurry.
He rode down the sloppy streets, then paused at the store to order a few things before proceeding to Willow’s house. He left Gray tied to the nearest post and dashed across the muddy yard to bang on the door.
“It’s open,” Willow called.
He stepped indoors. One quick glance revealed it was as he imagined, only worse. Sarah and Adam were both in tears. Celia held two pots to catch drips over the stove.
Willow’s hair hung about her face. The shoulders and hem of her dress were dark with water. She stared at him.
“You’re all wet,” Sarah said.
Water dripped from his slicker, adding to the puddles on the floor. “Looks almost as wet in here as outside.”
Willow blinked as if to assure herself she wasn’t imagining him. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to take you to a drier place.” His plan had made perfect sense when he left the cabin. Now it seemed presumptuous to expect her to accompany him out there, especially after he’d made it clear he no longer cared to associate with her. Not that he’d succeeded in convincing himself.
“Why?”
The whys were too complicated. Even he didn’t understand them. In answer to her question, he looked at the ceiling. “I expected this would happen. Too many shingles missing from the roof.”
“We’re coping.” She looked at the water plopping into the many pots and her shoulders sank.
“There’s more rain coming in. You can’t keep up with the leaky roof.” He let that soak in.
She straightened and gave him a look of determination. “We’ll manage.”
“I’m here to say you don’t have to. The cabin is warm and dry and there’s lots of room for you there.”
“It’s for you and Thad.”
“Thad hasn’t come yet.” Odd, he should have arrived by now. But perhaps it had taken more time to negotiate purchasing the horses than either of them had anticipated.
“You’re still there.”
Johnny twitched as pain stabbed him. Her words were a sharp sword, reminding him how things had changed. “I’ll sleep in the barn. You won’t need to see me.”
Her eyes revealed nothing.
He pressed his argument. “None of you will sleep through this, and Adam and Sarah are already in tears.”
She glanced in their direction, her lips tightening, her eyes blinking as if tears of her own threatened to escape.
“Please say yes,” Sarah begged. “I don’t like this. Neither does Adam.” The little boy clung to Sarah and sniffled.
“I don’t enjoy it, either.” Celia would never beg, but her desire was clear.
“For the sake of the others,” Johnny added and waited as she fought an inner battle. When she sighed, he knew she had started to see the advantages of his offer.
“I can’t leave all our belongings to be ruined.”
“We’ll stack everything that can be water damaged on the bed and cover it with the tarpaulin.”
At once Celia dashed into another room and gathered up the bedding. “Let’s pile it on Willow’s bed.” She dropped her armload there and returned. “Help me with the mattress.”
Johnny shrugged out of his slicker, hung it on a nail by the door and followed Celia. They rolled up the mattress and added it to the stack.
“Don’t just stand there,” Celia ordered her sister. “Get things ready to take.”
“I haven’t said we’d go.”
At Willow’s statement, they all stilled. Then Johnny moved to stand face-to-face with her. “It’s only temporary. You can arrange to have the roof repaired while you’re gone, then when you come back, you’ll have a warm, dry house. A place where your family can safely be together.” He held her gaze, wishing she would not shutter her feelings from him. But what did he expect? And really, what did he want? He’d as much as said he could never trust her. That effectively closed the doors to any developing feelings between them.
“I guess that makes sense.” She put the pot on the floor and the plop, plop, plop of the drips grew louder, joining the plop, splat, splash of the many other containers catching water.
“It’s like a discordant orchestra in here.” He nodded toward the various vessels.
“A very wet orchestra.”
His gaze returned to hers and a smile grew at the amusement in her eyes.
“I’ll get our things ready.” She hurried to her bedroom and started packing a valise, as Celia carried clothing and added it to the pile on the bed.
Celia looked at Johnny standing in the middle of the floor. “The tarpaulin is in the shed.”
“You want I should fetch it?” He pretended not to know.
“It’d be a good idea.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He liked this bossy Celia much better than the sullen one. He trotted to the shed, found the canvas rolled up in a corner and carried it to the bedroom. Celia helped him unroll it and secure it over the lumpy pile.
“Are you packed?” he asked.
“All done.” She indicated a satchel by the door. “I can’t wait to get out of this dump.”
“Good to see that you stick to your convictions.” He said the words without criticism.
“Haven’t seen a need to reconsider.” She faced him squarely, even challengingly. “When I do, I won’t mind admitting it. I freely admit there are times a person needs to change their mind about things.” Her eyes flashed.
He gave a slight lift of his eyebrows. Did she mean him? “I’d change my mind if I was wrong.”
“Don’t expect you ever are.”
He wasn’t about to answer that. “I’ll get the wagon.” He grabbed his slicker and hurried outside to hitch up the mare and tie Gray to the back, then returned to help stow the bags in the back.
Willow had Adam wrapped in a warm quilt.
“Man,” the toddler said and poked a hand from his coverings to reach for Johnny.
“I’ll hold him while you get aboard.” He took the boy and pressed his cheek to Adam’s head, covered in a warm bonnet. Ah, how he’d missed this little fella. He held out a hand to assist Willow into the wagon. She withdrew as soon as both feet reached the boards.
Emptiness washed over him. He’d miss her as well, but the rift between them had widened and deepened to an insurmountable size.
* * *
Willow had to do this for the sake of the children. Her own feelings did not count, which was good, seeing as she couldn’t decide if she welcomed Johnny’s offer or if she wished he would leave her alone so she could forget him and get on with her life.
He handed Adam to her and climbed up to sit beside her. How many days and hours had they ridden this way, his strength and steadiness seeping into her and giving her comfort? She shoved the air out of her lungs. But that was in the past.
She glanced over her shoulder to check on the girls, who sat huddled together. They had spent a miserable few hours trying to avoid getting wet inside their house. She reminded herself that she was doing this all for them.
With a flick of the reins they were on their way.
She was surprised but grateful when Johnny stopped at the store. “I ordered a few things I need to pick up,” he said as he jumped down.
“I need some supplies, as well.” She handed Adam to Celia and took Johnny’s hand to get down,
then preceded him into the store as he held the door. She would not let her thoughts hearken back to the other time he’d been here with her. That was old news.
Mr. Marsh took her order for food. In a few minutes it was ready and they carried the boxes out to the wagon.
“I have one more stop I need to make,” she said.
Johnny cast a worried glance to the sky. The dark clouds were almost upon them.
“It will only take a moment. I need to hire someone to fix the roof.”
“Of course.” They proceeded to the lumberyard and she arranged to have the work done. “Three days for sure? I don’t want to return to find the roof isn’t fixed.”
“It will be done.” The owner banged his fist on the counter for emphasis.
She nodded and left the office.
Johnny again helped her to the seat and then drove north out of town. As they followed the trail along the river, the rain-freshened air filled her lungs, the breeze cooled her face. And despite every reason in the world to think otherwise, anticipation drew her gaze and her heart down the trail toward the cabin.
“How far is it?” Sarah asked, her voice thin.
“It will take a couple of hours,” Johnny answered.
Willow gasped. Two hours! “I had no idea it was so far.”
“Does it make a difference?” He slanted a glance at her, then turned away, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her.
She stuffed back the pain rising like bile. “Not really. I simply hadn’t thought about the distance.” Being so far from town made her shiver. Not because she cared about living in the community, but because she liked the idea of being so far away with only Johnny and her family around. She acknowledged that it was a dangerous idea to allow, and she pushed it aside.
They traveled on in silence except for the creak and rattle of the wagon. Not the comfortable silence she’d known a few days ago, but one filled with regrets and ruined wishes. She had no one to blame but herself, having known from the start that her secret would make any relationship impossible.
The wind picked up and she drew her shawl closer about her, glancing back to make sure the others were warm enough and that Adam was covered against the cold.
A raindrop splattered on Willow’s cheek and then another.
“We’re going to get soaked.” What had made her think this was a good idea?
Johnny stopped the wagon, put on his slicker and climbed into the back to open one of the boxes and pull out new canvas. He wrapped Adam and the girls securely, pulling the edge up to cover their heads. “Can you see out?”
“Yes,” the girls said in unison.
He lifted out another piece of canvas and carried it to the seat, where he wrapped it about Willow. Every time his hand brushed her shoulder, her throat constricted. When he formed a hood over her head, his fingers brushed her cheek and she inadvertently leaned toward his touch.
“Keep the flap low and you’ll stay nice and dry.” He sounded businesslike. Not at all affected by the contact between them.
“Thank you. How are you going to keep dry?” Perhaps she should lift one corner of the canvas and share it with him. Share their body heat. Keep each other safe and dry.
“I have my slicker and my hat. It’s all I need.”
Exactly. He didn’t need or want to share anything of himself with her. She dared not forget it again.
The rain descended, pounding against the canvas. The girls giggled. At least they enjoyed this. Willow drew back into the protective shell, making herself as small as possible. Not only against the rain but against the loneliness that sucked at her insides until she thought she would collapse. I’m not lonely. I have my son and my sisters. It’s all I need. And I have God. He will never leave me nor forsake me. Her breath came more smoothly. With God’s help she would make it through the next few days without getting confused about what she wanted and deserved.
After what seemed several hours, the rain passed over, leaving the world sparkling, as if shards of glass had been tossed across the grass and leaves. She pushed the canvas off her head.
“Look.” Johnny pointed. A double rainbow arched from horizon to horizon. The girls oohed and Willow stared. God had set the rainbow in the sky to remind them of His love. Seeing two made her think God especially wanted her to remember His promise.
“Thank You,” she whispered.
“Pardon?” Johnny leaned closer, tipping his head to hear. Water cascaded from the brim of his hat.
Laughing, her heart alive with joy, she ducked away.
“Sorry.” He removed his hat and smacked it against the side of the wagon, then returned it to his head. “I didn’t catch what you said.”
For a moment she considered if she should tell him she hadn’t meant for him to hear. But the need to share was too great. She told him how the rainbows made her remember God’s promise of love. “I was saying thank-you to Him.”
Johnny studied her, his eyes searching.
She let him see the joy in her heart.
“You’ve renewed your faith?”
She nodded. “I had to live up to my own words. I told Sarah love means trusting. Like she said, you can trust God even when people disappoint you.” Willow didn’t realize her words might sound like an accusation until after she’d spoken. She hadn’t meant them as such, but held her breath, waiting to see how he would take them.
“I absolutely agree it’s safe to trust God. Trusting people isn’t always safe.” He’d turned her words against her.
Thankfully, he shifted his attention to the trail and wouldn’t see the tears stinging her eyes. She blinked them away and steeled herself for what was to come. She had to endure him for the three days it would take to repair her roof.
Chapter Sixteen
Johnny had never been so glad to see the cabin. He didn’t regret asking Willow and the children to stay there, but the two-hour trip gave him far too many opportunities to wish things could be different. But no doubt Willow understood how difficult it was to trust someone once the bond had been shattered. Mr. Reames had taught her well enough.
“There is it.” He pointed to the place. From here it was like a picture that should be hung on a wall of a house for everyone to admire. The rain had stopped and the sun had begun to peek through a narrow break in the clouds. In the sunshine the cabin sat front and center, the barn to one side, trees going back toward the flash of blue and white indicating the waterfall and the stream flowing from it.
Sarah crowded close. “I thought there was a waterfall.”
“Over there.” He pointed.
“I see it.”
He turned to face the girls. “I want both of you to promise you won’t go there without an adult.”
Celia huffed. “I’m practically a grown-up.”
He didn’t say it aloud, but likely his glance at Willow revealed his thoughts. Celia was close to the age Helen had been when she’d drowned, not at the waterfall, but caught in the swirling current farther down. Her father insisted she had banged her head before she drowned.
Johnny pulled the wagon to a halt. “I won’t go on without a promise from both of you.”
Sarah gave it easily, but Celia scowled and made it clear her promise was given reluctantly.
“Thank you. I trust I can count on both of you to keep your word.”
“Humph. Don’t ask if you don’t believe,” Celia said.
He laughed. “You’re right. Sorry.”
They drove up to the front steps.
“It’s not a cabin,” Willow said with some surprise. “It’s a beautiful house.”
“Wait until you see inside.” He jumped down and helped her to the ground. For a moment, her fingers lingered in his. Why did he let himself think it felt so right?
She sli
pped her hand away and turned to the girls. She took Adam from Celia. “What do you think?”
Sarah’s eyes were wide. “It’s like a beautiful dream.” She paused to look down the valley. “I can see for miles. Look at the raindrops shining in the sunlight. Oh, I wish we could stay here forever.”
Willow pulled her to her side. “Only a few days, then we go back to our own house, with the roof repaired so it won’t leak.”
Celia hadn’t said anything. “Are you going to let us inside?” she finally asked.
Johnny chuckled. “I can always count on you to bring us all back to reality.”
“You should be grateful.”
“Maybe I am.”
She shook her head, perhaps surprised he hadn’t scolded her.
“Come along.” He led them up the steps and across the veranda, threw the door open and stepped aside to let them enter.
Sarah stopped a few feet inside the door and sighed. Celia followed and stood beside her little sister, looking around but saying nothing. It was Willow Johnny watched. As her gaze circled the room, a barely there smile touched her lips.
“It’s nice. So clean and tidy.” She gave him a look that demanded to know if he was responsible.
“Maisie taught us all how to keep a house clean, how to cook and how to do our own laundry.”
Celia stared. “But you’re a man.”
He roared with laughter. Seeing her confusion, he sobered. “You make it sound like a man can’t learn to do those things.”
“Not can’t. Won’t.”
He looked at Willow when he replied. “Men don’t always have a wife or mother or sister around to do it for them, so they learn to do for themselves.”
“Seems like that’s why lots of them get married. Just to have someone do their dirty work.” Celia circled the room, looking out the window, running her fingers over the cupboard edges, staring at the fireplace.
Willow watched her, her expression cautious, as if wondering if she would have to deal with disapproval from her sister.
“Guess I can see why you want to live here, and why your friend does,” Willow said.
“It’s not where we live that matters,” he told her. “It’s running our partnership and being friends.”
