“Jeb… .”
“No!”
The wounded and frustrated way she looked at him just then plagued him with instant regret. Jeb had to wonder if his stubborn insistence to carry this burden alone was worth the price. Except for Sass, he’d let no one in on his dire situation. He’d handle things because he sure as shooting wasn’t going to follow his father’s awful reputation for complaining about what was wrong with the world, and those in it.
If folks only knew the half of what his father had really been like.
Jeb had often considered setting folks straight, but he just couldn’t seem to bring himself to do so. He didn’t necessarily want to sweep things under the rug, but somehow he knew the retribution he’d experience would be fleeting. He’d rather be known for what he’d made of himself than for what his father had done to him.
Had he made something of himself? Could a man with nothing more to show for himself than the shirt on his back be worth anything?
What he wouldn’t give to have someone like Lydia stand by him when his faith in himself waned.
Glancing down at her, he couldn’t help but long for her caring touch—it’d made him feel alive again. Her genuine concern had offered a lifeline of hope. And her very presence at the ranch had given him joy when he’d needed it most.
“That’s just fine for you to say that you can’t talk about things, isn’t it?” Her mouth compressed to a grim line. “You can offer to be there for me if I need to talk, but you won’t allow me to do the same for you?”
“Like I said—”
“I know… .” Holding up her hands, she stepped away from him. “This is your battle to fight.”
“It’s nothing you need to worry about. Everything will be fine.”
“Really? Everything will be fine?” she echoed, clutching her skirt and eying him with clear disdain. “It sure doesn’t seem like everything is going to be fine. This ranch is falling apart, Jeb. And you’re trying to hold the whole place together all alone, as far as I can tell. It’s too much—you can’t handle this alone.”
Her words cut him to the core. He’d seen the disappointment in her expression when she’d arrived here. And yet, deep down he’d hoped that maybe she’d believe in him enough to see beyond what seemed glaringly apparent.
That he’d failed.
The notion wrapped his heart in life-sucking shame.
“Believe me…I know the ranch has seen its better days,” he reasoned, trying not to fall prey to failure. “I take full responsibility for the condition it’s in, too.”
She hugged her arms to her chest, confusion and suspicion crimping her brow as she studied him. “It’s not like you, Jeb, to let things go like that. At least not the Jeb I used to know. Have you really changed so much that you’d let this beautiful land and all the livestock you’ve worked so hard to raise, just fade away?”
“Is that what you think? That I’m willingly letting this place go?”
She swallowed hard, her slender throat convulsing. “What else am I to think? You’re being evasive and all secretive.”
After a long and painful moment of silence, he gave his head a shake and narrowed his harsh gaze on her. “Why do you think I started fixing up the little cabin, Lydia?” he challenged.
The stoic look on her face pricked both his heart and his pride.
“It was because of you,” he continued, feeling the reins on his control slipping slowly through his hands. “I did that to please you. Because I could see how much the place meant to you and how sad you were when you saw what kind of condition it was in.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that for me, Jeb,” she responded, stubbornly. “I only wanted to get my father’s things and leave this place, but you were the one who insisted I stay.”
“You had nowhere to go. For all I know, you would’ve slept out in that little cabin.”
She stared at him in that distant way of hers that made him feel strangely alone and completely in the dark as to what had changed so much over the past five years. She’d been at his side every waking moment years ago. But now… It was clear in the protected way she held herself that she didn’t trust him or want him as a part of her life.
Sniffing, she lifted her chin a notch. “I’m not sorry that I followed you last night.” Her gaze narrowed on him. “You might have been hurt terribly…or worse.”
“I’ve managed just fine on my own—until last night, that is.” All of a sudden he found himself irritated. Mostly by the fact that she seemed determined to uncover something amiss about him. “What did you think I was doing, anyway, Lydia?”
She threaded her fingers together at her waist. “I don’t know.”
“Well, you’re suspicious about something.” If he was guilty of anything, it was quietly taking his father’s cruel treatment for so long—even after the man’s death.
When the hint of moisture rimmed Lydia’s gaze, Jeb felt instantly bad for his comment.
“Jeb…I was a distraction for you last night. And I want you to know that I am so sorry I caused you to lose the fight.”
“It’s over,” he said, running the back of his hand over his weary, swollen eyes. “There’s no use talking about it now.”
When Lydia hugged her arms to her chest all Jeb could think about was pulling her into his embrace, holding her in his arms and never letting her go. Every last one of their fears would disappear and worries would melt away in each other’s arms. He would breathe her in…Lydia. His delightful little shadow turned into a wonderfully confident young woman whose simple beauty rivaled nature’s own.
“I have to know something, Jeb. So, please…please just answer one thing for me.” Her voice sounded low and strained and so wary.
His hopes for ever having a relationship with her were slipping right through his hands. If he even had hope at all…
“What?”
Her gaze slid up to his forehead. “The scar on your forehead…did that happen the day I left five years ago?” she asked, her voice breaking with trepidation. “Please, answer me honestly.”
He couldn’t lie. But the prospect of guilting her didn’t sit any better for him.
“It was a long time ago,” he answered, carefully choosing his words and hoping they’d suffice. “You weren’t at fault.”
Chapter Nine
Lydia’s heart plummeted hearing the truth and seeing it in his gaze.
Ever since she’d asked him about that particular scar the other night, she’d had this horrible feeling that there was more to the story than what he was letting on—just like everything else. Knowing that she’d distracted him to the point that he’d almost been killed, not once, but possibly twice, hung like a dank, heavy millstone around her neck.
What had she been thinking? On both occasions?
She’d been around green horses enough to know that you don’t barge into a corral like some wild thing. And she certainly had enough sense about her to know better than to barge into a fighting match where she clearly didn’t belong.
Hugging her arms to her chest, she avoided his shuttered gaze, recognizing that the desperate measures she’d taken had gotten her nothing but disgrace and pain—again. She was so much better off when she denied that integral part of her heart which felt things so deeply.
She couldn’t stay here another night.
Still hugging her arms to her chest, she stood in the awkward silence, humiliation hanging over her like a dark cloud. And the unanswered questions nipping at her heels, challenging any savory thought she had about Jeb.
And yet his words…that he’d fixed up the little cabin for her, had filled her with the smallest amount of hope.
Just moments ago when he’d woken, she’d felt an overwhelming sense of relief that
he seemed to be all right. She’d longed to tuck herself into his comforting embrace, even if it was just for a moment. Because now she knew she would never have him for a lifetime. The letters she’d written to him, the language transforming from a seven-year-old’s simple statements of love to a young woman’s heartfelt expressions, bent into her thoughts like a flower, wilting and fading to its certain death.
Her heart was beating nearly out of her chest as she braved a glance at Jeb, his face unrecognizable from the beating he’d received last night. He stood as stubborn and as proud as the mountains were rugged.
But the wounded look tucked into his swollen gaze—that might very well haunt her for the rest of her days.
“I’ll be leaving,” she said, finally. “Just as soon as I get my things and help with the chores.” Turning, she started for the door.
“Lydia. Wait.” He grasped her arm, his touch sending a warm rush clear through her.
Foolish hope nailed her feet to the floor. Her pulse slammed and swished through her ears. Her breath came hard and fast as she tried desperately to ignore her greatest wish.
“Don’t go. Please.”
For a moment she almost felt herself drifting toward him, as though some unseen force was drawing her to his arms. But the imprudence of giving in to that would only lead to more pain. For Jeb. And for her.
She moved out of his reach. “I can’t stay, Jeb. Again…I’m sorry for any pain I’ve caused.”
While she left the room it was all she could do to hold herself together. She’d run away—once. This time she’d walk away, knowing it was her best and only decision.
* * *
Lydia gathered her things and set them on the bed to pack. Throughout the day, she’d been lending a hand to those who’d shown up to help, but they’d all gone home now. And it was time for her to leave, too.
Jeb had been doing chores, though he’d kept his distance and that was just fine with Lydia.
It’d nearly broken her heart to see him struggling in spite of his obvious discomfort. He just couldn’t hide the grimaces or the moments when he’d stop and close his eyes, breathing deep as though to ward off pain’s battering force.
Wiping beads of perspiration from her brow and tender memories from her thoughts, she folded her nightdress and set it beside her father’s saddle bag. She tried hard not to give in to the raw emotions bubbling to the surface. She couldn’t allow herself to cry—not even when Sass had insisted she keep both of the beautiful handmade dresses along with the other items she’d let Lydia borrow.
Picking up the saddlebag, Lydia tipped it, letting the frame and Bible and locked box slide onto the bed.
A brass key tumbled out to land next to the Bible.
She’d figured her daddy had probably used it to tuck important papers away for safekeeping—just as she’d done with her letters to Jeb. Picking up the key, she slid it into the lock and gave it a half turn. With a click, the lid popped open as though the contents were bursting to get free.
A quiver of unexplainable anticipation inched down Lydia’s spine as she lifted the lid. An envelope spilled over the edge as well as several monetary bills. As she peered into the box, the breath whooshed from her lungs.
Hundreds…maybe thousands of dollars had been stuffed into the box.
“Daddy…?” she whispered, shock clogging her throat. Her hands trembled. Her breath caught. “What is all of this?”
She lightly fingered the money, certain that she’d never seen so much in all of her days. Once her shock subsided enough to think straight, she opened the envelope and pulled out a letter, her daddy’s familiar etching scrawled across the page.
Ready tears sprang to her eyes thinking about the little notes he used to leave for her, just to brighten her day. Setting her focus on the carefully penned date, her chest tightened realizing that he’d written the letter two days prior to his death.
My Dear Lydia,
April 20, 1888
You are probably wondering where all of this money came from. Over the years I have saved and invested, adding to the inheritance I received years ago from my father. I never spent much because it seemed that love was enough for our small family.
I know you will be wise and so I want you to have this. I’ve seen your heart, Lydia. The innocent and idealistic way you see the world is so much like your mama. The stubborn streak in you…that came from me. You feel things deeply, love deeply and you are as loyal as they come. Don’t let life’s sorrows and disappointments steal your joy.
Now, before I go, there are two things you must know.
Jebediah is an admirable young man who knows a thing or two about long-suffering. I’ve seen the way you look at him and I want you to know that I hold the utmost respect for him, which brings me to the second thing. There is a handful of money bound together at the bottom of this box that rightfully belongs to Jeb. I am counting on you to get it to him. Believe me when I say, he has earned it.
I love you, Lydia. Whatever you do from this point forward, please promise yourself that you will follow your heart. It’s a beautiful one.
Love,
Your Dad
Lydia wiped at the tears streaming down her face. How could her father have known?
She stuffed the large sum of money back into the box, feeling more hope than she had in the last five long and lonely years. She shoved the box, Bible and photo into her daddy’s saddlebag, knowing exactly what she needed to do.
Picking up her things, she raced downstairs, checking each room for Jeb, but he was nowhere to be found. When she found Sass in the kitchen, she came to a skidding halt at the doorway.
“Sass, where’s Jeb?”
“You’re not leaving are you, dear?” Sass peered sadly at the saddlebag.
“I am, but I need to give something to him,” she said, confident in the fact that whatever happened with Jeb, she’d be all right. “It’s important.”
“Well, you better do it now.” She draped the dishcloth in her hands over her shoulder. “Because we might not be here if you come back in a few days.”
Lydia furrowed her brow, confused. “What do you mean?”
Sass heaved in a huge sigh and met Lydia’s gaze. “I just might lose my job for this, but it seems I’m not going to have one anyway, so…”
“What is it, Sass?” she urged, grasping Sass’s hand.
Lifting an apron corner, Sass dabbed at her eyes. “Jeb’s losing this place.”
“He’s what?” Disbelief hollowed Lydia’s stomach. She’d seen plenty of signs of disrepair and hardship, but she’d had no idea it was that bad.
“The bank is taking it over—but it’s no fault of his,” Sass added with a stiff upper lip. “That father of his left him with more than just a run-down ranch. He left him with a mountain of debt.”
“How terrible for Jeb,” she said on a ragged whisper. An overwhelming sense of urgency crowded in on Lydia. And right behind it, an overwhelming sense of peace. “Sass…thank you so much for telling me.” She wrapped her arms around Sass. “Can you tell me where he is now?”
“I think you’ll find him out in the little cabin.”
Chapter Ten
Jeb lit the last of the three candles he’d brought with him, willing his heart to slow its rapid-fire pace. He glanced over at the crate where the mama cat lay, content as could be as she fed her six kittens.
“They’re beauties,” he said, adjusting the cloth where he’d nested Sass’s delicious bread. He set a hand on the warm crock of her best stew, making sure it was still warm. Smoothed out the old lace tablecloth and nervously waited.
Would Lydia show up as he was sure she would?
Would she believe him?
Would his love be enough once she knew he
had nothing to offer her much more than a crate?
After she’d walked out of his room this morning, he’d faced the hardest decision of his life. He had to let her know exactly how he felt about her. He could live with the disappointment of her walking away, but he would never be able to reconcile the regret of never having said anything.
On a deep breath, Jeb prayed that God would continue to soften his heart and that He’d soften Lydia’s heart, too.
Just then delicate footsteps bounded up to the porch and came to an abrupt halt. Jeb grasped the back of the chair and faced the door.
When it creaked open and he saw Lydia standing there, her father’s saddlebag draped over her arm and her hesitant gaze meeting his, he thought his heart might just come right out of his chest.
“I’m glad you came,” he said, swallowing hard.
Her wide-eyed gaze slid from him to the table, to the candles’ yellow flame. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in. I was just—”
“This is for you.” He motioned toward the glowing hearth and the finely set table.
She paused for a long moment, her attention drawn to the crate of mewling kittens. “Oh, that’s so sweet,” she whispered, setting down her saddlebag and heading straight for the kittens. “Thank you, Jeb.”
“You’re welcome to the kittens, but I was meaning this,” he said, gesturing to the table.
The clear shock in her gaze as she stopped, hovering over the crate of kittens, pierced his heart. “For me?”
Nodding, Jeb stepped forward and held out his hand to her, praying she’d take it. Forever.
“It’s beautiful. Just beautiful,” she breathed, placing her trembling hand in his.
“Lydia…I have to say something,” he began, his heart skipping several beats.
“No, I need to say something.” Pulling her hand from his, she backed up a step. “Please.”
“Go ahead,” Jeb uttered, bracing for rejection and praying for a miracle.
Brides of the West: Josie's Wedding DressLast Minute BrideHer Ideal Husband Page 24
