“My pa’s a hero,” he heard Caleb say.
“No more’n Bounder-Rover is,” Brody exclaimed, rushing toward his dog.
Ripping the towel down the middle, Joe bound Blankford’s wrists, his feet, then tied them to the solid leg of the heavy dining table.
He knelt beside Blankford, speaking quietly so that children would not hear. “You might be drunker than a fly floating in rum, but that doesn’t mean you won’t dance toe-to-toe with the law.”
Glancing up, he saw Mary sitting halfway up the stairs, holding the girls and looking pale. She had set the knife out of sight—possibly under her skirt.
Caleb and Brody were wrong about who the hero was. There was no doubt in his mind that it was Mary.
She had been like a mama bear, ready to battle to the death to protect her young ones. Of course, she had been a sight prettier doing it than a bear.
It would be a good long while before he forgot the fire of authority blazing in her eyes. Something shifted inside him, because all of a sudden he recognized the same devoted quality in her that his mother had.
Lucky was the man who married this woman.
“Did my cookies burneded up?” Caleb asked.
Mary laughed suddenly. She reached one arm toward the boy. He and the dog raced toward her at the same time. She ruffled his hair and the dog’s fur.
“I believe they are burning as we speak, but don’t worry, I’ll make double to replace them...and something for you, too, you wonderful hairy dog.”
“If you’ll be all right for a few minutes, I’ll haul Blankford to the sheriff.”
He saw it in a flash, a shadow dimming her eyes that revealed how frightened she had really been, and that she did not want him to go.
“Go ahead,” she said with a smile that he knew was for the children’s benefit. “By the time you get back, Maudie will have decorated a special cookie just for you.”
“You’d do that for me, Maudie?” he asked.
She hiccuped, nodded her head then wiped her nose on her sleeve.
What he needed at this moment was to wrap them all up in his arms, reassure himself that they were all right.
But he could see that they were, at least on the outside.
He untied Blankford, yanked him up from the floor. Whew! He wrinkled his nose at the scent of stale alcohol mingled with fresh.
“I’ll be back before that cookie cools off, Maudie,” he said. He winced at her tremulous smile, then dragged his captive out of the house.
* * *
In Mary’s opinion, decorating the Christmas tree was the very thing to help the children get over the fear that the intruder had left in his wake. Stringing popcorn garlands and hanging candy canes was the medicine to return the smiles to young faces.
While the children adorned the pretty fir as far up as they could reach that is, Joe played his harmonica.
One could nearly forget the unpleasant business of this afternoon. Nearly, but for her, not altogether.
When that wicked man had threatened Maudie, she had been ready to run him through with the knife...she who had never purposefully harmed a living creature.
Would she have? Looking at Maudie now, her expression sweet and untroubled while she sat on the blanket trying to make Amelia smile, she knew she would have.
It would have changed her to the core, but—
“Sometimes life gives us hard choices. Once we’ve made them we can never really be the same.” All of a sudden, Joe was standing close to her while she gazed out the window.
Moonlight glittered on the snow, making the night view of the yard look like something out of a fairy tale. The world was certainly full of beauty...and ugliness.
“How did you know that I was thinking of that very thing?”
“Your expression. There’s a little crease between your brows. It starts here, then goes off this way.” He smoothed it with his thumb, then he fingered the hair at her temple. “You were wondering if you could have used the knife. It’s only natural that you would be troubled about it.”
“I was... I believe that I could have.” She sighed and leaned her head into his touch, because there was something about Joe that made her feel safe, and right now she needed safe.
“I’m just glad you were here,” she said.
He nodded, looked out the window, his thoughts seeming far away. She wondered if at this moment, he saw the earlier ugliness rather than the beauty of this night.
“Me, too,” he said at last. “Here’s the truth, pure and simple. If you’d been forced to take that action, it would have been his own fault, not yours.”
“I know that, in my mind I do. But in my heart I feel so—”
“Brave, Mary. What you were was brave.” He gathered her up in a hug and she let him. His chest rumbled when he spoke and she sank into it. “Besides, the dog would have attacked before you got the chance. I don’t reckon you’d hold it against him, think that he was a bad dog.”
“He was courageous and wonderful.”
“As were you.”
He looked into her eyes. It was as though she could read his heart. He wanted to kiss her.
There was no denying that she wanted him to. She lifted up on her toes, ready to meet him halfway.
“Mr. Joe!” Dan called. “How we going to get the star way up there?”
The children! She had all but forgotten they were in the room. She must be blushing brighter than the red stripes on the candy canes.
“I’ll lift Maudie up,” he said, quickly backing away from her. “It’s only fitting that an angel should set the star on top.”
He glanced back at Mary with a wink. He could not have made it any clearer that he was remembering calling her an angel that first night.
Joe Landon certainly had a way of making her feel topsy-turvy.
* * *
Hours later the house was still and silent, everyone settled in slumber.
Luckily, the children, being children, appeared to have recovered from the day’s ordeal shortly after the hot chocolate and cookies hit their bellies.
An hour ago, Joe had checked on each one of them.
Watching them dream securely under their blankets with the parsonage walls holding at bay the uncertainties of life...it did something to him. Made him feel grateful in a way that many folks would not understand.
As glad as he was for the peaceful slumber of the house, it did leave him alone with the silence.
A silence that had the worries in his head nearly shouting out loud.
The clock chimed midnight and reminded him that Christmas was one day closer.
A day closer to Maudie’s and Caleb’s dreams being dashed. No ma for Maudie, no pa for Caleb.
A day closer to the time when he would have to leave them all behind and go home to the ranch.
It worried him to the bone. The farmer wouldn’t be in jail all that long.
Somehow, the children had grabbed him by the heart.
As had Mary. He knew he ought to be cautious where she was concerned, just like he’d always been. Sure didn’t want to end up with another broken heart.
Sure didn’t want to end up a lonely old man, either.
All of a sudden it was hard to imagine a future without Mary and the children in it.
Since he wasn’t going to get any sleep, he got up from the couch, put on his boots and coat, then went outside.
Might as well worry standing up. Hopefully pacing would keep his stomach from spinning like a whirligig.
First he went to the stable to check on the animals and add a log to the stove. Then he walked back to the front porch, all the while gnawing on the fact that the orphans’ time at the parsonage was running out.
Everyone knew about orphan trains. Many of the children went to decent homes...but others—
The idea of any one of these precious little ones ending up like some he’d known...hell, it wasn’t the frigid weather turning his bones cold at the moment.
He sta
red up at the moon to rid himself of the pictures that charged unbidden into his mind—Maudie being treated like a servant instead of a beloved daughter, the twins desperately crying at being separated and Dan’s self-esteem crushed at being passed over time and time again.
Try as he might to separate his own past from the fear of the children’s future, he could not.
Turning back toward the stable, he quickened his steps in an attempt to outrun the worry. Too bad it caught up with him before he ever drew the door open.
He glanced back at the house when the glow of lamplight spilled across the snow. He turned and saw Mary’s shadow cross the curtain. Maybe she was wakeful, too.
It couldn’t be easy for her, growing to care for the children she nurtured, then having to give them up.
Chances were, one day she would marry and have a passel of little ones of her own, ones she would never have to say farewell to.
Mary with a newborn at her breast—it was a lovely image that ought to make him happy for her. Why was it that all he felt was an uncharitable lump in his gut?
Because he—
All at once her bedroom window slid open. She leaned out, gazing down at him. A mass of wavy hair tumbled about her shoulders, caught a dusting of moonlight. She tipped her head sideways, gazing at him with a question in her eyes.
Because he...wanted her for himself!
The thought flashed upon him quicker than a thunderbolt, but now that the revelation had embedded in his heart, he knew it was never going away.
He wanted Mary...he wanted all of them.
If Mary wanted him, too, they could save the children from the orphan train, give them a wonderful life.
“What are you doing, Joe?” She crossed her arms over her chest and shivered. “It’s freezing cold out there.”
“Will you marry me, Mary?” he blurted because the thought was so momentous, so exciting, that he could do nothing but express it.
Mary was the woman who was meant to be his. No long courtship would convince him otherwise. What he had seen in that mental flash was his soul’s companion.
“Will I? No, of course I won’t. You’d better get back inside before what’s left of your brain freezes.”
“That was sudden... I’m sorry. Meet me in the parlor and I’ll propose the way a man ought to.”
She shook her head, then slammed the window. Her lamp went out.
At least he’d gotten her attention. Certainly once he asked in the proper way, explained how it would help the children, she would accept.
It was a disappointment when he came inside and discovered that she was not there to greet him at the door. In fact, he didn’t even hear footsteps to indicate that she intended to come down at all.
Maybe all she needed was some time to let the idea settle in. In that case it would be better if he didn’t go knocking on her bedroom door.
He lay down on the couch to try and sleep, but now that he knew he wanted to be a husband to Mary and a father to the children, a dozen sleeping potions would fail to make him drowsy.
The clock chimed one, then two before he heard footsteps tapping down the stairs.
Chapter Seven
Coming down the stairs, Mary yanked the collar of her quite respectable robe about her neck, then knotted the belt at her waist.
Her houseguest had apparently lost his mind and at the same time robbed her of a good night’s sleep.
Crossing the room in the dim light of the dying fire, she approached the couch and bent over him.
Perhaps he was not insane but ill...feverish, no doubt.
Gently, so as not to awaken him, she drew the backs of her fingers across his forehead, then down his cheek.
Humph, he was as cool as she was.
Without warning, his eyes popped open and he sat up. She squeaked in surprise and jumped backward.
“Since you aren’t sick, you must have fallen and hit your head.” She studied the shape of his skull, looking for a lump under the mess of lovely dark curls.
Nothing was obvious. The only way to know for sure would be to run her fingers through his hair. That did not seem appropriate.
“Something like that.” He grinned, then got up to add a log to the fire. “I expect I have got some explaining to do.”
“That might help determine whether the doctor can wait until morning.”
“I don’t need a doctor, Mary. I need you.” He scooped up her hand, led her back to the couch, tugged her down and then sat facing her. “It hit me all of a sudden.”
“Something certainly did...you asked me to marry you.”
“Not with much elegance, but I meant it.” He touched her cheek, then leaned forward. She felt the delicious warmth of his breath huffing against her lips. “I won’t quit asking until you say yes.”
“I won’t say yes, Joe.” How could she?
She turned her face away because the sincerity in his expression was making her forget how rash his offer really was.
“I’ll give you and the children a good life.”
“The children?” She snapped her gaze back at him.
“We would adopt them...all five. And more after that.” He rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? These last few days have given us a taste of how good things could be. Marry me and we’ll have this for the rest of our lives...and I won’t have to sleep on the couch.”
The man tempted her. He was handsome, affectionate and brave. Everything a woman could dream of. And dream she had, but sadly, the secret visions she indulged in during the wee hours were fantasy, blown away by the realities of daybreak.
She could marry no man—it didn’t matter how wonderful he was, how she felt about him.
“I know you love the children. They could be yours and mine, all wrapped up and legal.”
She wanted to run upstairs and weep, because he was offering her a miracle, one that she was honor bound to refuse.
“I can’t marry you, Joe.” She set her spine to firm her resolution and lock away the tears that threatened.
“But you want to. I see it in your eyes... Mary, why do you look so sad?”
He drew her up in a hug, cupped the back of her head in his hand.
Say yes, yes, yes, her heart screamed, but stubborn common sense screamed back just as loudly. She clung to him, fighting to keep those words unsaid. If she did, though...just said that one little word...she would have everything she’d ever dreamed of.
And Joe would not. If she cared for him enough to marry him, could she then deprive him of life’s most precious reward?
“I’ve seen how you are with Amelia. You want a baby of your own. I’ll try morning and night to give you one...just say you will be my wife.”
Poor Joe...no matter how eagerly he tried, his efforts would be futile.
She wriggled out of his hold, then stood up and backed away.
“No, Joe. I’m not the woman for you...or for any man.”
“I reckon I have some say in that.”
“You don’t.”
“The only way I’ll quit asking for your hand is if you tell me you don’t, at least, like me.”
Sorrow sliced her heart in two because she more than liked him.
“It doesn’t matter how I feel... I’m barren.”
That revelation seemed to set him back some. He sat silently, staring at the floor for a long time, chafing his hands.
At last he glanced up, moisture welling in his eyes.
As she had suspected, the news had been a blow and it hit him hard. It proved to her, once again, that she was correct in her position to remain unmarried.
“Mary, there’s all kinds of barren. Not being able to give birth to a child is only one of them. You’ve a fertile heart. I would never see you as barren.”
“And I’d never see you holding a child of your own.”
“You’ll see it in a couple of days. I aim to adopt our orphans even if you turn me down.”
“But you
are a single man. The judge might deny you.”
“He might, but I’ve got the ranch to offer...give them security. And Ma, she’ll give them as much love as any child could ever want, but...”
He looked away from her, silently studying the wool flowers woven on the rug.
“But what, Joe?”
“It’s you they already love, it’s you I—”
“I wonder if the judge really would refuse you,” she said quickly, because if he had been about to declare his affection for her, no amount of willpower would keep her from dissolving into a weeping mass.
This man, whom she cared for deeply, had just offered to make her secret dreams come true, and she’d turned him down.
“I hope not, especially since Blankford has gotten a lawyer to try and take Maudie.”
That was shocking! She hadn’t known.
Blankford was obsessive. And simply because he’d had a daughter before did not make him a fit parent.
“The judge would never give custody of that sweet child to a crazy man.”
“Not if she’s mine first.”
Joe would be able to keep her safe, of that she had no doubt. Poor Maudie—all she wanted was what most children took for granted...loving parents.
Setting aside the issue of her inadequacies as a wife, perhaps she was incredibly selfish to turn him down. Moreover, it appeared that her desire to spare one kind of pain was only going to create another.
She had been ready to flee to the sanctuary of her bedroom. Instead, she returned to the couch and sat next to Joe, feeling as if she was about to hurl herself over a cliff with no swimming hole beneath.
She might have sat at the far end of the couch to say what she intended, but here she was, indulging in that safe yet itchy feeling whenever she was close to him.
“You ought to have the children, Joe. You love them and they love you...but I, well, I can never be the woman you need.”
“You’ll always be the woman I—” She covered his lips with her fingertips because she could not endure hearing him say that he cared for her.
“I accept your offer of marriage. But with one condition.”
“Whatever it is, I accept.” His grin was broad. His eyes glistened. How was she to tell him the rest?
“Our marriage will be temporary, for the sake of the adoption. Once the children are settled at the ranch, I’ll be on my way.”
Dreaming of a Western Christmas: His Christmas BelleThe Cowboy of Christmas PastSnowbound with the Cowboy Page 24
