“A mommy deer,” he said in awe. “And two babies.”
The doe bobbed her head twice before bounding for the cover of trees, followed by her speckle-backed twins.
She patted his leg. “It’s such a pretty day. They must be enjoying it as much as we are.”
He nodded agreement, and her good mood returned. She loved Mondays. It was the day Susanna and Hannah’s mother minded the restaurant and she had the entire day with Markus.
“Did you and Sarah have fun? After you ran up to her room, I never saw you again. What were you two doing for all that time?”
Sarah, two years older, liked playing the role of big sister. “We played with her dolls until I stuck one in her pa’s boot and made her cry. Then she wrote numbers and letters and I had to guess.” He slapped his hand on his thigh in an expression of exasperation, the way she’d seen Dwight do many times before. “Then she taught me how to make a braid.” His face squished in disgust.
Hannah couldn’t contain her smile. “Oh, my. She did, did she?”
As he nodded, one of his brows launched into a sharp peak. “Yep. Want me to show you?” He reached up and took a chunk of her hair in his hand, climbing to one knee.
“Markus. Sit down before you fall.” Grasping his elbow, she settled him back on the seat. “The buggy is no place for shenanigans. You know that,” she said more softly and kissed the top of his head. This little guy can find trouble anywhere. “Well, did you have any fun at all?”
He shrugged as he let go a long-suffering sigh. “I guess. I wanted to go out to the corral and see the horses. Or find Jake or Gabe.” His tone was heavy.
As much as I hate to admit it, Mother is right. Markus needs more male companionship. Last night’s dinner with Dwight had been tolerable. Markus seemed to like him. They’d talked for quite a while about fishing and what kind of bait to use. Was that what she should be focusing on—someone who’d make a good father for Markus, regardless of her own feelings?
Entering Logan Meadows proper, the gelding trotted smartly across the short bridge that crossed over Shady Creek and Hannah guided him left, onto Oak Street, on their way to Brenna Lane’s house. She had a basket filled with food from the restaurant and fixings Jessie had sent along. Her friend was so blessed with the life she had, her husband…
Life with Thom? A small smile tickled her lips. What would that be like? The rhythm of the horses’ hooves and the warmth of the summer air drew Hannah back to her daydreaming. She imagined him coming home after a long day of work. Pulling her into his arms first thing and kissing her until she dissolved into a pool of desire. Working around the kitchen, bumping elbows. Lying in front of a crackling fire as the snow outside piled high. She’d known him as her childhood crush, her adolescent first love—even if her feelings weren’t returned—and now in adulthood, her friend? Is that what he was to her? No! It would never be enough, she realized. She wanted Thom as her man.
She sighed and gave herself a shake. Daydreaming wouldn’t change Thom’s mind.
Brenna’s was the last home on the street before it turned and connected with the road that led into Logan Meadows. As Hannah drew near, the rhythmic pounding noise of someone at work reverberated above the spinning wheels of the buggy. She glanced about, looking for the source. Then she saw him. If she hadn’t had such a firm grip on the reins, they might have dropped from her hands.
Directly across the street from her destination, someone—a large, formidable, and very handsome someone—was hammering away on top of Maude Miller’s tiny rental house.
Jessie set her clean, carefully folded camisole on top of her shawl, trying desperately to ignore the two letters tucked out of sight at the bottom of the drawer. What was she going to do? She wanted to tell Chase but feared he’d want to take this on like everything else he did—directly. That would mean contacting Mrs. Hobbs. Jessie was not ready to take that step yet. “Stay still,” she said gently over her shoulder to Shane. She’d set him on the bed for the moment to free up her hands. As she slid the drawer closed, voices on the front porch of the ranch house drew her attention. Collecting Shane, she hurried through the kitchen to the front room, not wanting whoever it was to wake Sarah. Totally worn out from her play day with Markus, Sarah had finally agreed to lie down for a few minutes. That was a half hour ago. Opening the heavy pine door, she found Chase, Gabe, and their ranch hand, Blake, in an intense conversation.
“What’s wrong?” she asked as she stepped out. Patches the cat darted out and leaped onto the porch rail just as Jessie closed the door. “Has something happened?” Shane brightened at seeing his father, and a smile stretched across his face.
Chase greeted her with a slight nod. His smile looked strained as he gently tousled Shane’s hair. “Rustlers. They get bolder by the week. A month ago it was Jeb Swanson’s place, then the Triple T in New Meringue. Last night they got us.”
Jessie stayed her reaction. Rustlers not only stole cattle; they injured or killed anyone who got in their way. “How bad?”
Chase paced to the porch rail and slammed his open palm against the support post, a hiss escaping through his teeth. When he turned back to face her, his expression was dark. “Eighteen head. Not so bad, but over time…”
“They’ll bleed us dry like a nail-poked snake,” Gabe drawled. “What can we do? We’re not going to just sit around and take it, are we?”
Chase shook his head slowly. “No, we’re not. We’ve worked too hard just to hand it over to rustlers. But with so many new faces showing up in Logan Meadows because of the railroad, it won’t be easy to smoke them out.”
Lines of strain showed around the corners of Chase’s eyes, and he’d yet to shave. His soft-as-whipped-butter chaps rippled when he shifted his weight from one hip to the other. If anyone could catch the rustlers, it was Chase.
“Used to be,” he went on, calmer now, more resigned, “we more or less knew everyone in town. We knew if someone was sick, birthing a baby, or spoiling for a fight. Now, not so much.”
Blake looked between the men. “What do you want me to do, boss?”
“Double the night shifts.”
Blake gave a long whistle. “The men are already pulling extended hours.” He plucked the toothpick that dangled between his teeth and tossed it into the flower bed. “They ain’t going to like it.”
Jessie averted her eyes, but not before she noticed Chase stiffen.
“They’ll like it less if they’re out of a job.” He looked pointedly at Gabe, who nodded his agreement.
Shane wriggled in Jessie’s arms, and she bounced him up and down to calm him.
“And tell every man to keep a sharper eye,” Chase said. “If things get any worse, we’ll have to hire on a few more hands.” He glanced down to the bunkhouse. “Where’s Jake? I haven’t seen him all day.”
“In the north pasture mending fence,” Gabe said. He looked in that direction with a perplexed expression, and Jessie reminded herself to ask him about it later. Jake had been so quiet for the past few weeks. Had hardly visited up at the house at all. She knew Sarah was missing him as much as she was.
“What about that Irishman, Donovan?” Blake asked. “He served time for rustlin’. Maybe his gang has been waitin’ for him to get out of prison.”
Jessie sat Shane in the rocking chair, staying close so he couldn’t fall out. “I don’t think he has anything to do with it,” she said. “He was little more than a boy when that happened.”
Chase cocked an eyebrow. “So?”
“Well, for one, it would be too obvious. Hannah was just here and had only complimentary things to say about him. He’s working at the livery and trying his best to get his life back in order. From what she says, folks aren’t making it easy for him to come home.”
Chase rubbed his chin. “I’ve been thinking about him, actually. The day of the town meeting, Hannah asked me to stop by the Red Rooster and introduce myself. You know, befriend him. Things just keep getting in the way. I haven’t do
ne it yet.”
“Chase, that’s not like you,” Jessie said. She kept a firm grip on Shane’s shirt as he tried to rock the big chair forward and back. “I think you should ride over there this evening and invite him to supper this week sometime. Invite Mrs. Hollyhock, too.”
Chase looked at her for a long moment, raising his eyebrows wryly.
“Pa!” the two-year-old said. “Ride Cody!”
Chase smiled, the tension dissipated. He lifted Shane from the rocking chair and bounced him around roughly, extracting a delighted gurgle-laugh. “Cody,” Shane called. “Ride Cody.”
“That’s a fine idea, Jessie,” he said, leaning over Shane to kiss her on the cheek. “I’ll do it. It’s about time we met Thom Donovan.”
Jessie shook her head. “Never you mind. You had your chance. I’m going into town on Tuesday afternoon to do some errands and visit Mrs. Hollyhock. I’ll take care of the matter myself.” And check to see if any more letters have arrived.
Hannah took the opportunity to drink in the sight of Thom as he worked on the roof. He’d stripped naked to the waist and had a bandanna tied around his head to keep the sweat from dripping into his eyes. He was beautiful. Imposing. His skin fairly glistened, a result of the sun and hard work. Her heart took off at a gallop, and she once again felt twelve. She smiled, remembering how she and Anne Marie used to hide in the bushes and watch Thom and Caleb skinny-dipping in the creek. Of course, they’d always covered their eyes when the boys entered or exited the water.
Thom dragged his arm across his brow, spotting the approaching buggy. His brows shot up in surprise, and Hannah pulled up on the reins.
“Hello,” she called quickly and waved. She tried to act startled, like she’d just seen him, too, and she willed the blush on her face not to give away the fact that she’d been gawking.
She followed his gaze down to his shirt draped across the porch rail. He set the hammer down and started for the ladder. “Guess it’s time for a break.” He looked from her to Markus, and she remembered the two had yet to be introduced.
“Fancy meeting you here today,” she said, standing in the buggy to straighten her dress. She wanted to keep things light. The vivid memory of his angry, battered face, the result of his last meeting with Dwight and the others, was one she couldn’t shake. She’d wanted to visit him at the inn afterward, to make sure he was OK, but she knew he wouldn’t like it.
He climbed down the ladder and went straight to the three-foot-high rain barrel at the edge of the porch. Taking a bucket, he doused himself, letting the water splash over his body and flood the ground. “God bless the man who invented barrels,” he said and smiled. He shook the water from his hair, then ran a small towel over his upper body. He pulled his shirt over his still-damp chest and arms, buttoning up from the bottom as he crossed the street toward them.
Lands above! She tried to look anywhere but at him. Her cheeks scorched hot, and she was sure he saw her embarrassment because his eyes fairly twinkled.
“Something wrong, Hannah?”
“Of course not!” Needing a distraction, she looked down at Markus.
“You have an uncanny talent for seeing me at my worst.” His smile was warm. “I think you do it on purpose.”
The cotton fabric of his shirt stretched across his chest and forearms. He stood tall, bracing his hands on his lean hips, boots planted a foot apart. He looked dashing. Almost roguish. There was still a shadow of a bruise on his left cheek from the fight Saturday afternoon, which made him look even more dangerous. His eyes narrowed an infinitesimal amount as if wondering what she was doing there. “H-how come,” she stuttered, “you’re not working at the livery today?”
“Win, good man that he is, gave me the day off so I could get this job done for Maude. He knows she’s paying me plenty.” He braced one of his boots on the buggy step. “And because the place is small, I’ll have it done in a day.”
Hannah nodded. The home was tiny but cute. The new shingles stood out easily next to the old, showing his progress.
“Actually, I’m almost finished now. Another couple of hours is all.”
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Hannah quickly went through her cloth handbag and handed Thom a small piece of paper. “Anne Marie’s address. I wrote it down so I’d have it handy the next time we met.”
“Thank you.” He glanced at it and put it in his pocket. “I appreciate it very much.”
Markus stood quietly beside her, but he quickly ducked behind the yards of her pink-flowered dress when Thom looked his way.
“Markus, come here.” She reached around and pulled him into view. His eyes were wide. “What is it? Don’t be afraid. This is Thom, Nana Katherine’s boy,” she added in a soft tone. “We’ve been waiting for him to come home for a very long time.” She couldn’t stop a quick sideward glance. Their gazes touched. “You’ve heard us talk about him, right?”
She was proud of her little man. When Markus started to make a fuss, rocking the buggy, she turned back to Thom. “I’m sorry. He’s being shy. Let’s do proper introductions on the ground, where I won’t lose my balance and fall on my head.”
She reached out and placed her hands on Thom’s wide shoulders, and he easily swung her to the ground. His hands branded her waist, making her insides do a soft flip-flop, and a breathless sensation filled her. Before he had a chance to let go, she went up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. She was tired of wasting time. She could tell herself she was done with him until she was blue in the face, but it wasn’t true. Only one person made her feel this way, and that was Thom. He was in such a good mood, she didn’t want to throw away this chance of opening his eyes to what they could have together.
“Hope you don’t mind,” she said playfully, trying to gauge his reaction.
“You’re as light as a feather, why would I?” His face was unreadable, but she thought she saw pleasure in his gaze.
She laughed. “I meant the kiss.”
“Oh, that.” He blushed, then stepped back, out of her reach, and tucked in the tails of his shirt with a sweep of his hand. “What brings you to this side of town?”
“I come almost every week. Brenna Lane’s my friend.” She motioned to the modest little house that stood a few yards away. “Doesn’t look like anyone is home, though.” She took the basket of food from behind the buggy seat. “I’ll lock this safely away in her kitchen.”
Markus hopped down and stood by her side.
“So you must be Markus,” Thom said softly, looking at the boy, a sweet yearning written on his face.
“I’ve wanted to introduce the two of you for the longest time. Since your first day home, actually. You’ll see so much of Caleb in his eyes and expressions.”
Markus just stood there, his eyes downcast.
“Markus? What’s wrong? Have you forgotten your manners?”
Markus heaved a big sigh and shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
Thom was struck by how much, up close, Markus looked like Caleb had at that age. The boy had Hannah’s eyes, but his mouth and the way it tilted in a cross of contemplation and doubt reminded him so much of his childhood friend that his heart ached. The expression was all Caleb.
It didn’t take a genius to see that Markus was upset about something, though, and that something, Thom was sure, had to do with him. He grasped the back of his neck, working out the kinks that had been building all morning to a dull ache. He’d wanted to meet Hannah’s son, but when she knelt down in front of Markus, a heap of worry on her face, he wasn’t so sure it was a good idea.
“Markus?” she said in a soft voice, rubbing his small back.
“Leave the boy. We can meet another time, after I’ve bathed.” He flicked a damp clump of something from his pants. “I’m not fit company at the moment. He’s probably scared.” Thom laughed, and even to his own ears it sounded strained, harsh.
Hannah glanced over her shoulder and tried to smile. “You’re not that dirty, Thom. Something else is wrong. He’s never a
cted like this before. I’d like to get to the bottom of it now.” She turned back to Markus. “Son, is there a reason for your behavior? Come on—you can tell me.”
Markus kept his gaze trained at his feet. He scuffed them for a moment, and then all was quiet. Thom’s pulse pumped in his ears.
“Grammy said not to talk to him.” He pointed but didn’t look up. “He killed a boy wif a knife. He might hurt me.”
Hannah’s sharp intake of breath echoed in the silence of the day.
Heat scorched Thom’s neck and worked up into his face, hotter than the noontime sun in July. He took a step back. Hannah must have been at a loss for words because she just looked at Markus, not saying anything. What could she say?
“I need to get back to work, Hannah,” Thom said gently. “We’ll get acquainted another time.”
A farm wagon rounded the corner of the dirt road just then, headed for Main Street. Even from this distance, Thom recognized Win driving Bertie and Ned, the draft horse team he took care of. He shook his head and a bit of his humor returned. I can’t believe those horses are my business partners, so to speak. I know their habits and moods better than anyone else I’ve met in town. His frame of mind improved even more when Albert gave a friendly wave from the passenger seat. A loud cry of some sort resonated from deep inside the wagon bed.
Thom walked out to meet them as they pulled up in the street. The mournful cries of whatever they were carrying never let up. Hannah and Markus followed.
“What do you have back there?” Thom asked, ignoring the fact that both men were covered in dirt and grime. Looking over the slats he saw a tiny baby buffalo, all ribs and eyes.
Thom’s brows shot up in surprise. “Another?” On reflex, Thom reached down, lifted Markus, and set him in the front of the tall wagon so he could see. The boy had been searching for a toehold on the worn steel wheel, trying to climb up. Markus sucked in a breath at the sight of the tiny creature.
Before the Larkspur Blooms Page 9
