by Linda Ford
“It not for lady,” Paquette protested.
“I’m not here to be pampered.” She carried dishes to the cupboard and tackled washing them. Work was a good way to control her wayward thoughts. As she worked she had but to lift her head to see Burke outside doing something at the corrals, Lucky at his side. Burke moved with a sureness revealing his strength and confidence.
A man who belonged in this new challenging land.
A man who drew some deep longing from a secret place behind her heart.
She jerked her thoughts to a standstill.
She’d listened to those siren voices before—adventure, excitement. It had led to disaster.
She pulled her gaze away.
Father God, help me be wise. Help me heed the counsel of my parents.
She washed the last dish, wiped the table clean. “I think I’ll take Meggie out for a walk before bedtime. She needs fresh air and exercise.”
She took Meggie’s hand and together they went outdoors. She let Meg run the length of the veranda, smiling at the fun the child got from her shoes echoing on the wooden floor. When Meggie climbed down the three steps to the ground, Jenny followed. They wandered down the path toward the open field. The land rose almost imperceptibly but enough that suddenly the countryside lay before her like a great huge blanket. The sun dipped low in the west casting shadows across the land, filling it with dips and hollows. The light caught higher objects almost lifting them from the ground. The land went on and on. Amazing. Awesome.
Jenny lifted her arms to the sky.
She could almost touch the clouds. Float on them across the endless sky.
“Oh, Pa,” she whispered. “If you could see this. Feel what I feel, you’d understand the restlessness of my soul.” She didn’t want to be confined within four walls, constrained by the bounds of town life.
But she would honor her parents. She lowered her arms and crossed them over her chest.
She would keep her word and return.
Surely, once she was back she would forget this moment.
She knew she never would. In fact, she stared at the vast prairie for a long time. She didn’t want to forget. She wanted to brand it forever on her brain, a secret place she could visit in the future and find again, this wonderful sense of freedom.
Burke watched Jenny and Meggie head past the corrals. His arms tingled with apprehension. How would she react when she saw how empty the prairie was around her?
At his side, Lucky watched, too. “She’s different.”
Burke knew what Lucky meant—Jenny was different than Flora.
Lucky went on as if Burke had asked him to explain. “She’s got a sense of humor, for one thing. And she sat with us like she didn’t think she was better.”
Flora had made it clear she would not share the table with servants. She’d wanted Burke to join her at eating separately, expecting Paquette to wait on them.
Burke had refused. It was only a small thing. He should have found a way to compromise. Perhaps it would have made a difference. He watched Jenny as she reached the end of the path and drew to a halt.
In the end it was the emptiness of the land that did in Flora. As it did so many. Why, just a few months ago the marshal had taken away Stan Jones to the north of here and Mr. Abernathy had packed up and gone back east because his wife couldn’t take it anymore. Burke had heard Mrs. Abernathy now had a personal nurse to care for her.
Jenny raised her arms over her head. What was she doing? Trying to hold the emptiness at bay?
Lucky watched, too. “Is she laughing?”
Burke threw down the hammer he held and headed after her. If he didn’t need her to help Meggie settle he would send her back to town first thing in the morning. Before her laughter took on a shrill note.
He had gone but twenty feet when she turned and headed back toward the house. A smile wreathed her face. She looked positively happy—excited even.
Burke shifted direction and returned to the fence he’d been repairing with Lucky’s help.
Lucky continued to stare at Jenny. “She’s different, I tell ya.”
Burke wouldn’t watch her but he couldn’t stop himself from glancing up from pounding a nail. She walked with a carefree swing. Her face glowed as she glanced skyward. Her laughter rang out as Meggie said something. From his first glance he’d been attracted. But nothing had changed—not the land and not him. “She’s only been here a few hours and she isn’t staying more than a few days. No need for her to concern herself with anything but Meggie.” No need for her to think about what life was like out here, how living here day after day would feel.
“Boss, not all women are like Flora.” Lucky made his soft comment then grabbed the other end of the plank and drove in a spike, making conversation impossible.
Burke stuffed back his response. It didn’t matter whether Jenny was different or not. He wasn’t about to repeat his hard-learned lesson.
Jenny and Meggie went inside and a crackling tension he’d been unaware of—or maybe just unwilling to admit—eased off.
He should ride out into the prairie until his thoughts settled into acceptance of the reality of his life, but he lingered in the yard listening to the sounds coming from the open windows of the house.
Jenny must have put Meggie to bed. He heard the baby fussing then Jenny singing a lullaby. The notes caught his memories and teased them forward. He remembered his mother holding Lena and rocking her to the same tune. He hadn’t thought of his mother in a long time. Not since he’d moved out west.
Now Lena and Mark were dead of a fever and he was guardian to their child. It was a repeat of when he became Lena’s guardian.
They had done well together.
Only Meggie was so much younger.
Jenny’s singing grew softer.
He strained toward the sound. It had stopped. Meggie must have fallen asleep. He drew in a relieved breath. Must be hard on such a little one to lose her parents and all.
But once she settled in, he would teach her how to have fun, how to enjoy the wild land. Satisfied, he headed for the barn.
A wrenching sob stopped him in his tracks. Meggie again. Poor child sounded heartbroken. No doubt she was.
Burke longed to be able to comfort his niece. Knew she wouldn’t accept any offer from him. Jenny’s soft, soothing tones underlay Meggie’s cries and the child quieted again.
His heart flooded with gratitude to Jenny for comforting Meggie when he was powerless to do so.
He thought again of the way she’d flung her arms skyward, the brightness of her smile as she returned from her walk. He smiled remembering the spider joke she’d told the men. And how she’d sat at the table with everyone. Pictures of her calmness on the train brought again the flicker of admiration and interest he’d felt at the time.
He snorted. He would not be mistaking gratitude for attraction.
There were things he could do to keep himself busy in the barn and he headed that direction. As he checked harnesses and cleaned out a pen, he strained to catch any sounds from the house. No more crying. A relief. No more singing. Too bad—no, he was not disappointed.
The interior of the barn grew dark and he headed out into the dusk.
Against the darkening sky, at the end of the path, Jenny stood outlined, standing in the same spot where she’d been when he watched her with her arms raised.
From deep inside him a strident voice called, demanding acknowledgement. Something about this woman pulled at his heart, made him want things that were at cross-purposes with his intentions.
Drawn by a silent, invisible cord, he sauntered over to stand at her side. “Mighty lonely place.”
“Listen.”
He did so. “It’s silent.”
“No. It’s full of whispers. I hear the breeze tickling the grass. It almost sings. And way off a bird is calling good night.”
He listened, hearing tiny sounds he’d grown used to until he no longer heard them. The sky faded to gray. P
ink hovered at the horizon.
“It’s so pretty.”
A mournful wail came from one side.
She turned toward the sound. “What’s that?”
An answering howl came from another spot and a sharp yapping sound from another.
“Coyotes.” He waited for her to shiver and head back to safety.
“They’re singing.” She sounded pleased rather than scared.
Flora had fled to the protection of the house, shivering and frightened. “Wild animals. This place is so uncivilized.”
Seems Lucky was right. Jenny was different.
Not that it changed a thing. This country was hard enough for a man, not at all suitable for a woman.
They stood watching the last light fade, listening to the coyotes sing and the prairie whisper.
Unwilling to break the spell of contentment, he didn’t speak though a thousand words flitted across his mind, questions about who she was, what her dreams were.
Finally she sighed. “I guess I better get back and make sure Meggie is okay.”
She headed for the house and he fell in at her side.
Meggie. A topic he could safely mention. “It took her a long time to settle.”
“Poor little girl. She’s lost everything.”
“She still has me.” And you, until you leave.
“I’m sorry. I meant everything familiar.”
He’d been too quick to take offense but wasn’t sure how to correct it without drawing undue attention to the fact. “She’ll soon settle in and feel at home here.” Why did the idea not feel as good as it should?
“I expect so.”
They’d reached the veranda and paused. “Good night,” she said.
A lamp sat on the kitchen table and sent a golden glow through the window putting Jenny’s face into a shadow.
He told himself he wasn’t disappointed he couldn’t see her expression as they parted ways.
He strode to the bunkhouse and headed for the bed he’d claimed as his own six months ago when he’d convinced Flora to visit the ranch. He’d been so sure she would learn to love the place as he had even though she had insisted on staying in town for weeks.
He’d been wrong.
Jenny enjoyed the coyotes singing.
“Seen you out walking with Miss Jenny,” Dug called. “Pretty gal.”
“She ain’t staying,” Burke growled. He didn’t want her to. Wouldn’t ask her to consider it.
He turned on his side, giving the men a good view of his back, indicating this topic of conversation was over. He felt their watchful stillness then rustling as they settled themselves at something else.
If only his thoughts would obey as quickly but they kept painting pictures on the inside of his eyelids— Jenny walking and laughing with Meggie, Jenny at the table telling a joke. Jenny reaching for the sky.
He opened his eyes so he couldn’t see the pictures, but then sounds filled his thoughts.
Jenny singing to Meggie. Jenny laughing. Jenny whispering at the magic of the prairie evening song.
He groaned silently.
How long would it take for Meggie to settle in?
It couldn’t be too soon for his peace of mind. The sooner Jenny left, the better.
Chapter Four
Jenny lay on her bed fighting her thoughts. It was wrong to think of Burke as she did. After all, she was all but promised to another man. She’d given her word to her parents. Yet here she lay with every word Burke had said, every gesture he’d made playing over and over in her mind. But even those memories weren’t as condemning as her wayward reactions.
She’d almost grabbed his hand in excitement when she heard the coyotes howl—a mournful sound that made her want to sing along. If Burke hadn’t been at her side she might have tried imitating them.
Besides being wrong, her thoughts were so futile. He made it clear she wasn’t welcome here. And there was still the mystery of the missing fiancée. What happened to her? He said he’d never marry but perhaps he was only angry with the woman. A lover’s quarrel.
She focused on that thought until her wayward imaginations came into order.
Father God, be Thou my hiding place. Keep me safe from my impetuous nature.
Finally she fell asleep.
Twice during the night, Meggie wakened and Jenny sang to settle her.
Next morning, she rose with her resolve returned. She had a task to complete. Today she would start doing things necessary to get Meggie ready for her to leave.
She knelt at the bedside, careful not to disturb Meggie who still slept. Father God, I need Your guidance today. Put a watch before my mouth so I speak only kind words. Show me the things I need to change for Meggie’s sake. Most of all enable me to guard my heart so I don’t think and feel foolish, inappropriate things. She didn’t say exactly what those things were but God saw her every action, heard her every word, knew her every thought. He knew how she loved the sense of adventure in challenging a new, forbidding land, just as He knew something about Burke drew her eyes to him more often than was appropriate.
Meggie yawned and stretched. She turned to see Jenny kneeling at her side and smiled as sweet as an angel. She patted Jenny’s cheeks with her warm soft hands.
“Good morning, little miss. How are you this fine day?”
Meggie babbled excitedly.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I don’t understand.”
Meggie caught Jenny’s face between her palms and looked intently into her eyes and repeated the indiscernible words. Jenny couldn’t look away from the intensity in the child’s eyes. It filled her with sorrow that she was unable to understand what Meggie wanted.
Sounds came from the kitchen. Pots rattled. Boots scraped across the floor.
“I think we might have overslept. How about we get you dressed and then you can go see your uncle Burke.”
Meggie had jumped from the bed at the idea of getting up but at the mention of her uncle, her face crumpled.
Jenny scooped her up before she started to cry. “Your uncle Burke would like to play with you. Wouldn’t that be fun? Perhaps you could show him your dolly.” As she talked, she slipped the nightgown over Meggie’s head and pulled on her clean dress. Quickly she put on socks and tied the little boots. As soon as she released Meggie, the child grabbed her doll and hugged it close.
“Do you think you’d like to show her to Uncle Burke?”
Meggie shook her head.
“That’s fine.” It would take time but that was first on her agenda. Right alongside urging Burke to hurry and resolve his differences with his fiancée. She ignored the way her heart quivered at the idea. She pushed resolve into her thoughts. Getting Meggie properly settled was her only concern.
Hand in hand, they stepped into the kitchen. Paquette stood at the stove, stirring a bubbling pot of porridge. Two huge frypans sizzled.
Burke put a bucket of foaming milk on the cupboard. Good. There would be milk for Meggie. That was essential.
“Good morning, Paquette, Burke.” His name clung to her tongue. She forced herself not to duck away as he met her gaze, even though she knew her cheeks likely hinted at her awareness of him. She swallowed hard and dismissed those awkward, wayward feelings.
Intending to begin the way things should continue, she turned to Meggie, still clinging to her hand. “Meg, say hello to Paquette and your uncle Burke.”
Meggie’s chin quivered. Her eyes glistened but she read Jenny’s silent insistence. They’d done battle before. Meggie knew she’d have to give in eventually so made the wise choice to do so from the beginning.
“’Lo, Pa—” She stumbled on the name, shot Jenny a look.
Jenny nodded encouragement.
Meggie tried again. “Pa—et.”
Paquette chuckled.
Jenny waggled Meg’s hand and indicated she should greet Burke.
Meg gripped Jenny’s hand hard and hung her head. “’Lo Unca Burke.”
Burke knelt to Meggie�
�s level. “Hello to you, too, little Meggie. Did you sleep well?”
Meggie nodded without looking at her uncle. Burke shifted his gaze to Jenny. From this position she could see how his black hair glistened, how slight waves formed across the top of his head. Then she realized he’d spoken to her asking how she’d slept.
She cleared her throat and hoped he’d think her hesitation was from being thirsty or anything except the truth—she’d again been distracted by her wayward thoughts. “Well. Thank you.”
He rose slowly, holding her gaze as he did. Her heart rose with him, pushing against her ribs as if wanting to rush out into open space. “Heard some crying,” he murmured.
She nodded, forcing her gaze to leave his face and return to Meggie’s upturned, watchful face. Meggie held her doll in one hand, watching them with an expectant look. “I think she wants you to say hello to her doll.”
Burke blinked.
Jenny grinned. “It’s a great honor.” It somehow pleased her to see this tough cowboy faced with the challenge of a little girl and her doll.
To his credit, Burke knelt again and touched the doll gently. “Is this your baby?”
Meggie nodded and allowed him to stroke the yarn hair on her precious dolly.
“She’s very nice, isn’t she?”
“My dolly.” She cradled the toy against her neck and stuck her fingers in her mouth.
Jenny suspected Lena would have scolded her daughter for sucking her fingers but Jenny had decided to overlook it, allowing the child whatever comfort it provided.
Burke studied his niece a moment more. She considered him with equally serious intent. Neither of them made any motion toward the other.
His quiet caution around Meggie, giving her space to get used to her new surroundings, gave Jenny another moment’s struggle with the reactions of her heart.
Burke straightened. Her eyes followed him, never leaving his face. Meggie pulled away and climbed up at the table to play with her doll.
“She’s very attached to it, is she?”
Jenny struggled to make her tongue work, to bring her thoughts back to where they belonged. Seeing Burke with such interest was definitely not where they should be. What would Pa think if he could see her, read her thoughts?
