The Cowboy's Baby Bond (11 page)

Willow considered his words. “I don't see how.”

“Watch Celia. If you wait you'll see her expression change. She'll rub her lips together and look into the distance.”

Willow glanced at her.

“You can't let her know you're watching.”

She shifted her gaze, pretending to study a robin in the trees beyond her sister.

Just as Johnny said, Celia let her own gaze go past them. She rubbed her lips together and her nostrils widened. Willow's heart twisted at what her sister revealed when she thought no one would notice. “She's sad.”

“I agree.”

“She's lost her home twice. I suppose she blames me, but Mr. Reames would not let them stay.”

“That seems odd, especially as you have his grandson. Seems he would be anxious for you to bring the boy and visit your sisters there.”

Willow longed to tell him everything. It would be a relief to share her burden with a sympathetic person. She opened her mouth, paused and then closed it again. She couldn't risk it. She knew she would see his shock in every look he gave her after she told him. But there was something more pressing than that. She would die with her secret locked inside her before she would subject Adam to judgmental looks.

So all she said was “Mr. Reames could not get past losing his son.”

The words sounded weak, but Johnny appeared to accept them.

“I expect he'll change his mind when he's done grieving.”

“Maybe.” That would never happen. “How long are we going to wait for Celia?”

“As long as it takes.”

His easy answer settled through her like a refreshing sleep. “You remind me of my father.” She hadn't considered her words before she spoke, but the statement was true.

Johnny shifted to look at her. “He was a half-breed?”

She chuckled. “No, he was a patient man. I don't recall ever seeing him rushed about things or too busy to stop and answer little-girl questions. And believe me, little girls can ask a lot of them. When things went wrong, he didn't get upset. He'd say, ‘Well now, how are we going to make this right?'” Her heart filled with a smile at the remembrance.

“He sounds like a very wise man.”

“Wise and kind.”

“I'm pleased you say I remind you of him.”

“He'd have liked you.” She knew it to be true. Papa would have seen Johnny's nobility and honor.

Johnny's gaze held hers. “He wouldn't have objected to a half-breed?”

She saw the same hint of sadness in his eyes she'd seen in Celia's, and reached out her hand to his. “My pa used to say you couldn't judge a book by its cover. Usually he meant people.”

He topped her hand with his other one. “There are those who hate what is between the pages.”

She knew what he meant. “There are people blinded by their prejudices and false judgments.” Those were the sort she must protect Adam from. “But thankfully, there are also people with compassion, understanding and love.”

He didn't reply, but his eyes flashed with what she took as appreciation.

Unfortunately, there seemed no way of knowing for certain how people would react.

A great splashing drew their attention to Celia, who headed for the shore.

“Getting cold,” she said with a great deal of annoyance, as if it was someone's fault other than her own. She stepped to the grass and stood in her undergarments, letting the water drip from her.

Willow's cheeks burned at Celia's indiscretion, but she feared saying anything would send her stomping back into the river.

Celia looked directly at her, daring her to speak.

Willow turned away, her heart aching at this defiant stranger who was her sister.

Too embarrassed to look at Johnny or even glimpse his expression, she picked at blades of grass at her knees.

At her side, Sarah and Adam played, one unmindful of the silent drama unfolding before them, the other pretending she didn't see it.

Meanwhile Johnny, Willow and Celia were silent, playing a waiting game.

Willow shifted so she couldn't see Celia. Let the girl play the game by herself. But now she could see Johnny, who was staring across the river. If she wasn't mistaken, his lips twitched as if he fought a smile.

Suddenly, she saw the humor in the situation. Celia meant to shock, meant to inform Willow she would not be controlled, but in so doing, she punished herself.

Willow nudged Johnny with her elbow. He nudged her back and she settled against the tree, this wordless communication between them as satisfying as many a conversation.

Celia turned back and forth and made a great deal of noise about letting the sun dry her off.

Willow decided a nonjudgmental comment was warranted. “The sun is warm today.” She didn't look at her sister.

“Mamamama,” Adam said and crawled over to her.

“He's hungry.”

Johnny got up, lifted Adam and reached out to pull Willow to her feet. “Let's go back and see what's in the grub box.”

Sarah followed them through the trees, leaving Celia to decide whether to put on her clothes and follow or stand there alone.

Willow pulled back. “What if she doesn't come?”

Johnny held her hand and prevented her from returning. “I believe she'll join us in a few minutes. If not, I'll get her. I promise.”

His promise was good enough for her and they continued on to the wagon. She handed out hard biscuits and a handful of raisins each. “I can hardly wait to get to our new home and cook for us.”

“What's it like?” Sarah asked.

Celia flounced from the trees and helped herself from the grub box.

Willow ached to say she was glad Celia had joined them but her sister's frown made her decide against it. Instead, she answered Sarah's question.

“I rented a house in Granite Creek.” She was delighted to have left the rough mining town of Wolf Hollow behind them. “I haven't had a chance to see our house yet, so it will be a surprise for all of us.”

“I love surprises,” Sarah said.

Celia remained stubbornly silent.

“Is everyone finished? If so, we should be on our way.” Johnny helped Willow and Adam to the wagon seat and the girls jumped into the back.

Willow noted Johnny's glance toward the west. The sun had already begun its descent. Where had the day gone? “Will we make it to the stopping house before dark?”

“We'll do our best.”

But the shadows lengthened as they journeyed onward. The stopping house was miles away. “We'll need to make camp before it gets dark,” Johnny said quietly. “There are some trees over there.” He left the trail and headed in that direction.

She realized he sought a place with shelter and a source of water.

Celia moved forward. “Where are we going? You said you had a house at Granite Creek. I don't see any house and certainly no town. Is this just one of your tricks?”

“Celia, whatever do you mean? I have never played tricks on you.”

She gave Willow a frown that spoke volumes.

Johnny calmed Willow with a touch to the back of her hand. “We're more than a day's ride from Granite Creek. We'll need to stop for the night.”

Sarah pressed herself to Willow's back. “Stop where?”

Willow's heart softened at the uncertainty in her little sister's voice.

Johnny again answered. “We'll camp in those trees.”

Sarah pressed tighter, fear emanating from her.

“Sounds like a good way to get killed in our sleep.” Celia's comment caused Sarah to shudder.

Willow chomped her teeth together to keep from scolding Celia.

“I've camped in the open lots of times.” Johnny's voice remained calm, though Willow wouldn't blame him for being annoyed. “I'll make sure you're safe.”

Sarah sagged against Willow, willing enough to trust Johnny's word.

Even before Celia spoke, Willow knew she wouldn't trust so easily. “So all they have to do is shoot you first.”

“Celia!” Willow could not contain her shock and turned about to face her sister. “What a dreadful thing to say.” She touched Johnny's arm. “She didn't mean it.”

“Don't speak for me,” said Celia, unrepentant.

They reached the trees and Johnny jumped down and turned to help Willow.

She studied his expression. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm not offended.” Indeed he didn't look the least bit bothered.

“You have every right to be.” She climbed down and turned to Celia. “That was uncalled-for. Johnny is only helping us out of the goodness of his heart.”

“I never asked him to help. No one asked if I wanted it. And I don't.” Celia stuck her hands on her hips and widened her stance as if begging for a fight.

Sarah stood up in the back of the wagon, her expression earnest. “Why can't we all just love Jesus? Then we wouldn't fight.”

They all stared at her. Willow didn't know if she should laugh or cry or argue about whether that would solve their problem.

Johnny chuckled and lifted Sarah to the ground. “Well said, little one. Well said.”

As Willow helped unload what they would need for the night, she warred between admiring the simple faith of a child and admitting guilt that she'd slipped so far from what her parents had taught her.

If only life could be as simple as it had been back then.

Chapter Eleven

C
elia had every right to worry about their safety, but Johnny had promised to take care of them and he meant to do exactly that.

He drew the wagon as far into the trees as he could and angled it so it would be mostly out of sight from the trail. For a few minutes he studied the area, searching for a sheltered spot for them to camp. One that would be far enough from the wagon that anyone approaching wouldn't come up on them unaware. He chose the best place available, then helped them put out bedding. There was a mattress in the back of the wagon but he didn't deem sleeping in the wagon to be safe.

He left the girls gathering firewood, took the horses to water and then tethered them where they could graze. He carried his rifle with him as he circled the area. It was always best to know the lay of the land before settling down for the night.

Satisfied the spot would do, he returned to the others.

They were getting short of food. He hadn't planned for so many meals. His mouth watered to think of the good food they would have received at the way station.

That was not to be. It would be dark before they reached the place and too many dangers lurked under cover of darkness. No, better to spend the night here even though it didn't feel totally safe.

The brightly colored quilt lay spread in the dappled light. On it Sarah and Adam played together. Celia sat cross-legged on the grass fifty feet away, scowling at Willow.

Willow didn't look at her sister as she set out food. Johnny could have pulled his knife from the sheaf in his boot and cut the air, it was so thick with tension.

He considered the benefits of lighting a fire despite the fact it would signal their position should anyone be following them. The blaze would offer light and warmth but more than that, he thought it would cheer them up. He'd simply have to keep a sharp watch for any intruders.

He arranged the wood to his liking and got a flame going. In a few minutes, a crackling fire burned. He found old fallen trees and dragged them close to use as benches.

“That looks lovely,” Willow said.

“Man,” Adam called.

Johnny scooped him up. “The fire is hot. Dangerous. You have to stay back.”

After they'd settled on the logs—Celia took her own—Willow handed out the meager supper. Celia accepted her share begrudgingly.

Johnny assumed the girl's bad manners were unspoken anger. Nothing more. She'd soon learn to enjoy her new home. “I'll ask the blessing.” He rose to his feet, dropped his hat beside him and said a quick prayer accompanied by Adam's excited prattle.

Celia remained apart as they ate.

Sarah crowded close to Willow. “Do you remember Mama and Papa really well? Celia says she doesn't.”

Willow put her arm about Sarah and drew her close. “I remember them very well.”

“Like what?”

“I remember the pies Mama made. Papa said they were the best in the county.”

“What kinds?”

“All kinds. Pie plant, vinegar, apple, raisin. Mmm. My mouth is watering just remembering them. When we get to our new house I am going to make us some pies. Mind you, they won't be as good as Mama's. I need to practice lots yet, but now I have two sisters and a little boy to practice on.”

Johnny wasn't included. He didn't expect to be.

Sarah turned toward him. “Won't Johnny get to taste them?”

“He has other plans.” Willow's gaze met his. He told himself he saw regret only because he wanted to. Okay, he admitted it. He might miss Willow and her little family when he bade them goodbye.

“Maybe his plans will change,” Sarah said, her voice full of hope and expectation. So innocent. So trusting.

Trust and truth. He wasn't sure he had either from Willow. Something about her insistence that Mr. Reames had asked the girls to leave because of his son's death didn't quite ring true.

Yet...despite all his inner warnings and the lessons he thought he'd learned, he knew he could so easily become part of this group.

Good thing he knew the pain of a foolish decision.

He was about to invent an excuse to leave the little gathering and walk about the area when Sarah asked another question.

“Did Mama and Papa love each other?”

Johnny wanted to hear this answer and settled back.

“Very, very much. Do you remember how Papa would always kiss Mama when he came in for a meal?”

“Maybe. Sort of.”

Willow looked to Celia, but the girl merely scowled at her. “Who wants to remember? They're gone and never coming back.”

“But we're still here and we're part of them.” Willow's voice wavered.

Johnny shifted closer and squeezed her shoulder.

She leaned toward him and continued to speak to Celia. “They'd want us to honor them in how we live. When we get to Granite Creek I plan for us to have a home and family that make people respect the Hendricks name.”

Johnny wondered at the shudder that made her tremble against him.

“Guess you shouldn't hang around a half-breed if you want people to respect you,” Celia said.

Johnny withdrew his hand, shocked by her venomous statement.

Willow jolted to her feet. “Celia May Hendricks, I can't believe those words came from your mouth. Papa would be so ashamed. He taught us all people are equal.”

Celia's expression did not soften, but Johnny caught a sheen of tears in her eyes. The wind blew the smoke away from her, so he knew that wasn't the reason.

Poor Celia. Trapped by her fear and anger.

Without thinking, he spoke the words that came to his mind. “My ma was right. Fear, hatred and revenge are feelings that kill the soul.”

Willow sank back onto the log. “I'm sorry.”

He wasn't sure what she was sorry for. She could hardly claim responsibility for Celia's words.

Into the strained silence, Sarah offered a puzzled question. “Willow, what's a half-breed?”

Before she could answer, Johnny did. “I am.”

Sarah studied him for a full minute, her eyes measuring and assessing, before she gave a decided nod. “Then I like half-breeds.”

Johnny tried to think if he'd ever felt so valued.

Sarah turned to Willow. “You do, too, don't you?”

Willow turned her gaze to Johnny with the same measuring, assessing look as her little sister.

Just when Johnny thought he would explode with impatience, she gave a decisive nod. “Indeed I do.”

Johnny's insides glowed with pleasure. Willow's gaze searched his. In his imagination he let her lay silent claim to his heart, his thoughts and his dreams.

Celia stomped toward the fire, threw on a log that sent sparks flying upward. “You know what I remember about Mama and Papa?” She didn't wait for anyone to answer. “I remember how they made me sit on a stool in the corner.”

Her words fell like bitter fruit.

“Only 'cause you did something bad.” Sarah's voice, though soft, was firm.

“I don't recall either of you sitting in the corner.”

“I did for telling mama no,” Sarah said. “And once for taking a cookie when I was told not to.”

Celia's gaze challenged Willow.

Willow chuckled. “I think I sat in the corner more than the two of you put together. I got punished for wandering too far from the house, for forgetting to do my chores, for not getting home from school on time.” She sighed. “I could go on and on, but I knew I deserved it and I knew other children who got whipped. I expect you both did, too.”

Neither girl answered, but Sarah shifted uncomfortably and Celia's lips drew in.

Johnny understood they knew of such children. At the darkening expression on Celia's face, a suspicion grew. Had she had firsthand experience? From what he'd heard of Mr. Reames, it seemed he wasn't a very nice person. Had he beaten Celia? And Sarah?

Johnny clenched his fists between his knees. If he ever had children, he would not beat them. And they would always know why they were being punished, and know it was fair.

Willow had long ago taken Adam, who fussed. “Time for my little boy to go to bed.”

“'Bout time for us all to do that,” Johnny said. Though he wasn't sure how much sleep he'd be getting that night.

* * *

Willow lay beside Adam as he fell asleep. What she really wanted was to stay up and talk to Johnny, apologize again for Celia's behavior. Would she continue to act like this even after they'd settled into their house? What an uneasy thought.

But Johnny had already withdrawn to his bedroll near the wagon.

“Nice of him to take the best spot,” Celia groused.

“Don't you realize he's chosen that place because anyone coming from the trail will have to pass him before they get to us? He's simply protecting us, just as he has from the beginning.” Willow's heart beat more smoothly at the comfort of his presence.

Her sister's expression shifted, almost as if she liked the idea of Johnny watching over them, and then her scowl returned with added depth.

Willow sighed. “You're determined to be angry. Why?”

Celia pulled her covers to her ears and turned her back to Willow. She would not be answering Willow's questions tonight. What if she never answered them?

Willow looked at the darkening sky. Whatever happened, she would continue to offer Celia a home and do her best to make sure it rang with happiness.

Her thoughts returned to the man sleeping nearby. Or did he sleep? Somehow she knew he would be awake and alert all night in order to ensure the safety of her and the young ones in their care. It wasn't as if they could have a private conversation if they stayed up. Not with the girls nearby. Nor did she have anything more to say. Her confession that she liked him was more than enough.

She curled up beside Adam and watched the glowing coals of the fire fade to black.

The next thing she knew, the fire leaped to life as Johnny added more wood. She sat up, met by dawn, surprised to have slept through the night.

Adam stirred and she prepared him for the day, while the two girls slept.

Celia looked vulnerable and fragile in the pink light of dawn and Willow's love for her rebounded.

She joined Johnny at the fire. Adam reached for him and Johnny lifted him from her arms. They stood side by side watching the dancing flames. The peace of the moment eased her mind. Behind her the girls stirred, and she braced herself for the morning.

Celia stomped past with her bedding and stowed it in the wagon. “Sarah, bring your things.” Her voice lacked kindness and Willow opened her mouth to correct her sister, then closed it. The morning was too new and fresh to start an argument.

Sarah trotted to her sister.

Either Sarah was eager to please or she knew better than to do anything to incur Celia's wrath. Willow certainly hoped that would change after they were settled.

“I'll make coffee.” As she approached the wagon, Celia hurried away, as if she couldn't bear being in the same vicinity. Pain dug its cruel fingers into Willow's heart. Did her sister hate her? But why? Every decision she'd made had been for the good of her sisters or Adam.

Except one, she corrected, guilt stinging her eyes. One that had led to being forced into marriage with Bertie. No, she corrected herself. She'd willingly married Bertie for Adam's sake.

The knowledge brought no comfort, only regret. She forced aside her feelings. From now on, she would not risk the happiness and security of any of them for selfish reasons.

She dug out the battered coffeepot, the coffee beans and grinder and prepared an aromatic brew. Even the smell lifted her spirits and she smiled. “I never smell coffee without thinking of Papa.” Avoiding looking at Celia, knowing the girl's frown would squelch the pleasant memory, she spoke to Sarah, whose hungry eyes begged for stories of their parents. “Papa always made the coffee. He would stand over the stove and wait for it to boil, then take a deep breath of the aroma. ‘The smell is the best part,' he'd say. I always sniff the freshly ground coffee and think how true it is.”

She filled a tin cup with the brew and handed it to Johnny. She sipped hers as she laid out a skimpy breakfast. She could hardly wait to make a decent meal in their new house. Maybe she'd invite Johnny to join them as a gesture of gratitude...except he'd be at his cabin.

“Where's this cabin of yours?” she asked, as much to control her thoughts as out of curiosity.

“What cabin?” Sarah was openly interested.

Celia showed no interest whatsoever.

“It's known as the Hamilton cabin.” Expecting Sarah's impending question, he added, “Because Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton and their children lived there.”

“How many?”

“Children? There were two, but I suppose they weren't really children. Their son, Thad, is my age and their daughter, Helen, was my brother Levi's age.”

Sarah's eyes widened with knowledge of a life cut short. “She died? What happened to her?” she whispered.

“Yes, she did. It was very sad for everyone—her parents, my parents, my brother Levi, who loved her and hoped to marry her. And for her brother. The Hamiltons packed up and left, too brokenhearted to stay and see the places where she'd once been.” Johnny swallowed hard.

Willow watched her sisters, both mesmerized by a story that mirrored their own—one of loss and sorrow.

He continued, “Now Thad is coming back and we're going to live in the cabin and raise horses.” As if realizing he hadn't answered her question, he shifted his attention from Sarah to Willow. “The cabin is ten miles northwest of Sundown Ranch, tucked into the side of a hill, with a pretty waterfall behind it and a stream meandering by. The view from the cabin is one to behold. You can see clear across the valley and watch the wild animals come and go.”

Sarah sighed. “I would like a place like that.”

“It's very nice. When Thad comes back, I want him to look around and remember how pleasant his life was there.”