Staring out the window at the summer landscape, she realized, yet again, that Jonas was nothing like Aaron. Nothing. Their similarities went as far as the fact that they both walked on two legs and breathed air.
“Did you hear me?” Aaron’s voice was low and tight as he held her gaze. “I have no regrets.”
Wishing to avoid his warm attention, she glanced over at where Theodore had curled up in a bright patch of sunshine. “So, what promise would you like for me to make?”
He set his hand beneath her chin, bringing her focus to him. “Well, for one…for the next few weeks, you’ll leave the chores to me. Deal?”
The very idea made her instantly sad. “But the cows will miss me. And the goats and poor da Vinci…she’ll be lost without me.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t go out and visit with them.” A smile strained at the sides of his mouth in a way that eased her some. “You can be out there with me or whenever else you like, but I don’t want you causing more injury to your arm by doing chores. It’ll be more than enough for you to take part in the play tomorrow night. That said, I want you to give yourself plenty of time to heal—just like Ben said.”
“All right. I promise.” She couldn’t bear the idea of being separated from her animals. And quite honestly, she couldn’t bear the idea of being away from Aaron.
“And another thing…” When he covered her hand with his, a trickle of fluttery sensations left her feeling heady with pleasure. “Promise me that you’ll hold on to hope.”
She eyed him for a long moment, the weight of his words blanketing her heart with expectation. Hope? For what?
The farm? The animals? Aaron?
She had to stop longing for anything more than a platonic friendship with Aaron. She’d just have to make it through the play tomorrow night, and the next few weeks of him huddling over her, then she would hire someone else to help out. She’d finally realized that if she waited until Aaron felt comfortable with a new hire, she’d be farmhand-short and experience-poor for the rest of her life.
“I promise,” she finally uttered.
Unbidden, thoughts of Jonas suddenly dropped into her mind. Since Aaron was always close at hand, she’d not had an opportunity to speak with him alone when he’d visited. But if she was to completely break free from the past and move on, then giving Jonas her answer was of the utmost importance. “Can you please promise me something?”
Aaron’s gaze grew so sincere, her heart melted a little. “Anything.”
“Promise me you’ll locate Jonas. I know that you are not fond of him, but I need to speak with him. It is imperative.”
Chapter Twenty
Agreeing to retrieve Jonas Hargrave was the hardest pledge Aaron had ever made. But if he loved Hope, then the only right thing to do was to let her go, to let her choose. If she wanted to be with Hargrave for the rest of her life, then he wouldn’t stand in her way.
What he could do, however, is push himself closer to reaching a resolution with himself and with God. That way the playing field would be leveled, because ever since Ellie and Jeremiah died, he’d been mired in grief so thick he couldn’t even see things straight.
Since Hope had seemed so weary, he’d left her with Jane and insisted she go back to bed and rest while he went after Jonas. After he’d dropped Hargrave off, he’d gone home, and for the past two hours he’d been packing away some of the things he’d clung to, gathering all of the items that he’d left untouched after the deaths—the cradle he’d crafted, the baby blanket Ellie had knit along with the hand-sewn baby items…he’d packed all of it up to be donated to the Seeds of Faith. The thought of some mother in need, using these things, made his heart swell with pride.
Ellie would’ve been proud of him. She’d have been proud, too, for the way he’d gone a step further and had begun to wipe the slate clean in his home. He’d left one picture of her on the chest of drawers in his bedroom. Everything else he’d packed away in her hope chest.
He’d felt a tangible sense of peace—that is, until he’d returned to Hope’s farm just a few minutes ago and found Brodie and Sheriff Goodwin on the porch with Jane.
Dread crept up his spine as he dismounted and jogged over to them. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“It was no accident,” Brodie announced, his words measured and firm as Aaron leaped up the three steps.
Sheriff Goodwin hooked his thumbs into his vest pockets. “No sirree. No accident at all. Someone meant you harm, Aaron.”
The sound of the goats bleating and cows mooing echoed in the farmyard. Chore time was past due, and by the way they were carrying on, they were determined to get someone out there to feed them.
“What a huge relief you weren’t hurt,” Jane gushed, perching a hand on his arm.
“I wasn’t but Hope was,” he ground out, caring little that his curt response made her flinch. He shrugged from Jane’s touch and leveled a disbelieving gaze on the woman, wondering how he’d been so blind to Jane’s spiteful ways.
Aaron gathered a lungful of air to keep his calm. “What in the world are you talking about, Brodie? I mean, I can’t imagine why someone would want to do something like this.”
“It was a spot of misfortune that Hope happened to be driving the rig.” Brodie gave his head a slow, serious shake. “That’s for sure.”
“So, you’re saying that someone tampered with my wagon?”
Brodie removed his black Stetson. “I investigated the rig and the hitch, thoroughly. And there’s no doubt in my mind it’d been compromised. I’ve seen it before.”
Pulling a hand over the back of his neck, he let the information settle in. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Sure fire shootin’, we are.” Goodwin hacked, the echo reverberating across the peaceful farmyard. “That’s why Brodie here got me all involved in this thing.” Wrenching his mouth off to one side, the sheriff focused his beady eyes on Aaron in that self-important way of his. “We got ourselves a rogue out there who’s lookin’ to cause a body harm. Namely you, Aaron Drake. And we’re gonna catch ’im if it’s the last thing we do.”
Jane made an all-out show of clearing her throat. She raised her loglike eyebrows over her eyes. “Maybe it wasn’t the work of someone else. Maybe—”
“What?” Aaron prodded, impatiently. “Maybe what?”
She clasped her hands in front of her, her gaze flitting from one thing to the next. “Well, maybe Hope did this to herself. Maybe she was desperate for a way out of the farm, seeing as how it’s been so hard. Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past her to cause her own accident just so that she could shirk her responsibilities here.”
Incredulous, his jaw muscles tensed harder with every moment that ticked by. “How could you possibly think that Hope would deliberately try to hurt herself just to get out of a few chores?”
“Well, it’s obviously been hard for her,” she argued, threading her fingers together so tight that they blanched white. “Anyone can see that.”
Aaron jammed his hands at his waist, grappling for calm. He felt far too close to losing his temper with this woman than he wanted to admit. “Have you ever seen her complain? Even once?”
She slid back a step, bracing her hands against the house. With a shake of her head, she blurted out, “She doesn’t belong here, Aaron. Can’t you see that? Paul had to have known this seeing as how he didn’t even tell me about her.”
“Sure was a surprise,” Goodwin added on an irritating chuckle.
Out of the corner of his eye, Aaron could see Brodie nudge the sheriff’s arm as though to shut the man up.
“Paul didn’t tell me about her either, Jane, and I was one of his best friends.” He grappled for a thread of manners, his pulse pounding as he glanced down to find Theodore rubbing against Jane’s skirt. “He was sometimes a very private man. Maybe he was worried that the whole thing would fall apart before she got here. I don’t know. But for some reason he wanted to keep this to himself until s
he arrived.”
“Get away, you nasty cat,” Jane growled, swatting then rustling her skirt as though the kitten had spread some dread disease over the garment. She set her focus on Aaron again. “I’m just surprised she didn’t bow out at the last minute.”
“Why would you think she’d do something like that?” he probed, her accusation pricking his ire as he reached down and scooped up the yellow tabby.
“She had to have known what she was getting herself into—that alone should’ve scared her away. And if she didn’t know, then you can be sure that just as soon as she got off the train, she’d wished she’d never set foot here.”
“You’re wrong on that account, too. Hope understands what commitment is all about. She wouldn’t have done that to Paul.” He narrowed his gaze on her, downright angered by her blatant vindictiveness. “You just need to accept that fact.”
Jane hugged her arms to her chest. “She should’ve gone back home after she found out that Paul had died.”
“If you remember, she’d been given a responsibility.” Pulling in a steadying breath, he grasped for some thread of calm as he pet the purring tabby. “One that she’s been good natured and determined about, too. And she’s loved it.”
The way Jane’s chin quivered just then tugged at his compassion. “She’s ruined everything. Absolutely everything.”
“What are you talking about?” he prodded, confused as all get-out, now. “Is it that you wanted the lead role in the play?”
She gave her head a decisive shake.
“Well then, was it that you wanted to live in Paul’s house? Or were you put out about the bank account?”
“No,” she spat. “But as soon as she showed up, all of your attention was spent on her.” Tears formed at the corners of her eyes as Goodwin gave her back an awkward pat. “I thought that you and I were becoming—”
“You and I, Jane, we’re friends.” He willed his anger to subside as he dipped his head to grab her attention. “Do you understand?”
On a sniff, she pulled her chin up a notch. “Friends?”
“Yes, friends,” he stressed, trying to ward off her fantasy for something more. The idea of Jane Thompson being anything more than a friend nearly turned his stomach inside out. She’d likely make a good wife for someone, someday, but it as sure as shootin’ wouldn’t be Aaron Drake.
“If you took the time to get to know Hope a little,” Aaron continued, wanting to completely douse Jane’s aversion to Hope. “Perhaps you’d realize how much she’s loved it here—in spite of the blisters she suffered from plowing, the goats escaping and the stallion getting out. Even after she’d lost all but one of her chickens to wolves, she could see the good here. She doesn’t want to leave.”
He was sure of that just a few days ago, but Hargrave showing up had dealt his confidence a big blow. Still, he knew that she loved it here on the farm. “When I told her that I didn’t want her doing chores, her first thought had been of the animals and how much she would miss them. Does that sound like someone who’s looking to get out of a responsibility?”
Jane plucked a handkerchief from her sleeve and blew her nose, emitting a honklike noise that startled Theodore. “Oh, my…”
“What’s the matter?” he prompted as he smoothed a hand down the kitten’s fluffy fur.
“I’ve really done it now. Paul would be very unhappy with me if he were alive to see this.”
Hope appeared at the door then, her silken hair perfectly mussed up, her eyes droopy from sleep. She cradled her arm against her chest.
Aaron set Theodore down on the porch as he held the door open for Hope, wishing that he could scoop her up in his arms and comfort her for the rest of her days.
“Hope?” Jane howled, a deep crimson blotching her neck and cheeks. “Can you forgive me?”
“Forgive you?” Confusion creased Hope’s brow.
“For what, Jane?” Aaron dared, a deep pit hollowing his stomach. “What did you do?”
“I’m the one who let the goats out. And the stallion, too. And I’m the one who came over and unlatched the chicken coop that night.” Jane twisted her handkerchief in her hands, shifting her timid focus to Hope. “I didn’t dream there’d be wolves. I was only hoping to scare you off.”
Aaron’s blood swished red-hot through his veins. He’d figured that Jane had been upset by Hope’s presence, but to go so far as to try to scare her off…
“I even lied to you about plowing being easy work,” she confessed, her eyes pooling with tears. “When I’ve never, ever even touched the thing. Paul would’ve never allowed it.”
Hope touched the hair at the nape of her neck then drew her hands to her sides. Although she was the picture of poise and calm, she had every right to be angry.
“Forgive me. Please say you will,” Jane pleaded, her voice tinged with that familiar whiney tone that grated Aaron’s nerves.
“I think I’ve known all along.” Hope glanced at where her kitten rubbed against her dress.
“Jane, you better have a good explanation,” Aaron ground out, moving a step closer to Hope. She may have let Jane off the hook, but Aaron wasn’t feeling so generous.
How could he have been so blind as to miss what had been occurring right under his nose? He’d even gone so far as to almost agree with some of Jane’s observations about Hope a few weeks back.
Hope had never said one word about Jane’s behavior—not one. Alone, she’d endured Jane’s vengeance. After the wolf attack, she’d even started doubting herself.
And Aaron had so much as accused her for making mistakes when the truth was she’d done nothing wrong.
Like a worm struggling to escape the baking sun, Jane slid her gaze to Aaron as though looking to him for help.
He wasn’t about to come to her rescue. If she’d been so sneaky and downright mean as to sabotage Hope, then it was only right for her to make amends.
She heaved a sigh, her hands trembling as she pinned her gaze to the porch floor. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been horrible to you, and you haven’t deserved it. First I was mad at Paul for bringing you here and not even telling me.”
Hope rested a hand on Jane’s arm, causing the woman to startle.
Huge tears sprang from Jane’s eyes as though on command. “But then I thought that maybe,” she sputtered, glancing at Aaron, her thin mouth pulled tight, “well, that maybe Aaron had set his heart on you.” A loud sob escaped her lips, followed by a wail that nearly broke the glass paned windows behind her.
Theodore suddenly turned into one gigantic fur ball as he scraped and scurried off the porch so fast that he nearly tumbled head over heels. Even the songbirds in a nearby tree grew quiet, as though anticipating another outburst.
Aaron dragged in a steadying breath as the woman’s cries pierced the late afternoon summer air. Visions of her peculiar behavior over the past two months flashed through his mind with lightning speed—the way she’d supposedly injured her ankle at play practice and then insisted on being carried and the way she’d always make sure to sit in front with him, leaving Hope to ride in the wagon bed. He also thought about the little seeds of misgivings she’d try to plant in his head regarding Hope. He should’ve paid more attention to his suspicions.
Hope encircled Jane in a hug. “I understand, but I can assure you that as far as Aaron and I are concerned, you have nothing to worry about.” Her words nearly deflated his hope.
Jonas had been here earlier, and from what she’d just uttered and from the way she’d moved from his side just moments ago, she’d obviously made her decision. She must’ve affirmed her affection for Jonas, though, Aaron couldn’t figure what she saw in the man. He was white as a blizzard, stiff as a train rail and far too buttoned up and smoothed down to constitute a man. Aaron nearly choked on the image of her walking out of his life on that man’s arm.
He loved her. And if he had any hope of winning her heart then he’d have to make his intentions known—as boldly and as clearly as the beautiful
July day.
Chapter Twenty-One
With the afternoon chores past due, Aaron had torn himself away from the house and headed out to the barn. He’d been eager for an opportunity to talk with Hope, but Brodie and the sheriff had wanted to ask her some questions. And Jane had hovered over her, seeing to every need as though paying penance for her spiteful deeds. Hope had been unbelievably kind and gracious in the face of Jane’s confessions, comforting the woman who’d sobbed so loud that Theodore had scrambled for cover.
“God, what am I going to do? I think I’ve lost her.” Returning the pitchfork to the barn entrance, he made his way over to the closed gate leading to the corral. He draped his arms over the top wood slat and peered at Daisy’s newborn, strong and sure on his feet as the little guy stood close to his mama.
Closing his eyes, he breathed in the scent of fresh hay he’d spread out for the horses. He’d done a one-eighty in the past weeks—from blaming God and himself, to beginning to realize that life’s seasons can’t necessarily be dictated. And he’d gone from believing that he could never love again to his heart being tugged by love’s unseen force.
There’d always be a place in his heart for Ellie. She’d been his first true love, but the painful yearning and aching void he’d lived with this past year had waned. Sometimes when he was with Hope, he couldn’t even conjure up those feelings. She’d captivated his attention, his affection and his emotions. She’d made him believe in hope and love again.
And his brothers and Brodie, they’d tugged him through some tight spots when he would’ve otherwise gotten stuck if left to his own strength.
And God…Aaron had to believe that He’d been there all along, walking him through his valley of grief, even when he’d railed against Him.
“Forgive me,” he said, his throat constricting tight just knowing that God’s forgiveness was there as the sentiment crossed his lips.
Rocky Mountain Proposal Page 22
