Cowboy Groom Page 8

  “I don’t mean to upset you.”

  “I know.” She slipped out the door, not wanting to hear any more of Aunt Mary’s schemes.

  Bruce and the children were circling the fence line. The small pasture was meant for the milk cows and the riding horses. Her breeding cows would graze on the open range though she hoped she could keep them close to home. Last year she’d managed to keep them on the grass between the home site and the river. Maybe they would remember that and be content. Or they might have learned to enjoy the freedom of ranging wider while in Kade’s care.

  She wouldn’t be able to constantly herd them. But then, she wouldn’t have to. That would be Bruce’s responsibility.

  The children were in his care at the moment, so she made her way to the garden and sank down beside the neat rows. Spying a weed, she plucked it out. Who had planted this? She patted her pocket. She had started to tell Bruce what she had found, but the arrival of Flora and Kade had sidetracked her.

  Again, her heart felt sluggish and weak. Had she made a mistake in agreeing to marriage in order to return home? Was Aunt Mary right in saying a business-like arrangement wasn’t possible?

  She shivered as if a cold wind had crossed her shoulders. She had no intention of following in Flora’s footsteps and falling in love. Loving made her far too vulnerable.

  Stella heard the gate open but didn’t turn around, assuming the children had come to join her. But it was a pair of man-sized cowboy boots that entered her field of vision. She glanced back to see if the children followed.

  “They’re playing under the tree by the house,” Bruce said. “Donny took his barn out there that he said the uncles built for him and is telling Blossom about their pa.”

  Missing Frank and the life they had planned sucked at Stella’s heart.

  Bruce sat cross-legged on the ground beside her. At least he was careful not to crush any of the well-tended plants.

  “The fences look good,” he said. “I’ll check by the river and make sure everything is ready for the cows before they come.”

  His words jolted her from traveling down the road to memories and losses. “You think there might be cause for concern down there?” She tipped her head in the direction of the river. She thought of the movement she had seen and put down to her imagination. “Have you seen something?”

  “I just think it is better to be safe than sorry.”

  “Oh.”

  “What’s causing your brow to furrow?”

  “Is it?” She rubbed at her forehead.

  He watched, his gaze kindly.“What’s the problem?”

  “It’s probably nothing, but I thought I saw something moving through the trees earlier today.”

  “An animal?”

  “I expect so. Or perhaps my imagination. I was feeling a little anxious.” She dug in her pocket for the bit of beaded leather. “I found this by the raspberry bushes.”

  He took the leather and studied it. “Can you show me where you found it?” The deadly calm in his voice did more to alarm her than if he’d been surprised or worried,

  He unfolded to his feet in one swift movement while she struggled with her tangled skirts. He offered her a hand, and she took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet. He retained her hand long enough for her to look up to his face.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

  Again, that quiet calm. Was he angry that she hadn’t mentioned her discovery before now? Did his calm hide anger? Would it explode into fists? She pressed her lips tight. He’d said otherwise when the preacher questioned him, but words and actions did not always jibe. If he was of that nature, she would run him off the place. She knew the husbands of the Kinsley girls would help her do so.

  “I started to tell you when Flora and Kade rode up.”

  “Good to hear, because this is one of those times when I need to know something you know. Especially if I am to protect you and the children.”

  At the mention of them, they both looked toward house.

  And the empty yard.

  Bruce looked to the left and the right. His neck muscles knotted. Where had Donny and Blossom gone? His hand fisted around the bit of leather Stella had found. It indicated the presence of Indians. And not so long ago that the leather was wrinkled and shrunken.

  “Donny. Blossom.” Stella’s voice rang across the yard.

  But no children answered or came running.

  She grabbed her skirts and raced from the garden.

  Bruce passed her and reached the house ahead of her.

  He threw open the door. Aunt Mary had been drowsing in her the chair and jerked awake at his noisy entrance.

  “Are the children here?” he asked.

  Aunt Mary glanced about. Confused by his question. “I was asleep.”

  Stella clattered into the house and went directly to her bedroom.

  “Donny. Blossom.”

  He followed her, watching hopefully as she looked under the beds and into the corners. There were few places to hide.

  She pushed past him. “I have to find my children.”

  “We have to find them.”

  “What’s going on?” Aunt Mary shifted in her chair and moaned as the movement brought pain.

  “The children are missing.” Bruce called the words over his shoulders as they hurried across the floor.

  “God, keep them safe,” Aunt Mary said.

  The returned outside. Stella again called them. Her gaze went to the trees along the river.

  He narrowed his eyes to better focus on the distance but saw nothing to concern him. “Wait here.” He trotted toward the river.

  He passed the corner of the house, a movement caught his eye, and he stopped.

  His breath released in a whoosh and then caught again. The children lay flat-out and as still as the earth on which they lay.

  He signaled to Stella and trotted over to the children. They slowly turned their heads at his approach.

  “Shh.” Donny said, and Blossom pressed her finger to her lips.

  Stella rushed up to them. Fell to her knees beside them. “Are you hurt? What happened?”

  “Mama, shh,” Donny said then with a disgusted look sat up. “You scared them away.”

  Bruce looked the direction they had been looking. Saw nothing.

  “Did you not hear me calling?” Stella pulled Blossom to her and held Donny’s hand, looking into his face.

  “No, Mama. We were watching a rabbit. Remember how Pa said if we were real still, they would play, and we could watch them?”

  “No, son. I don’t remember that. I was worried when I didn’t see you.”

  “I’m sorry, Mama.”

  “Sorry, Mama,” Blossom echoed.

  “No harm done.” She hugged them both and met Bruce’s gaze across their heads. “They’re all right. That’s all that matters.”

  He stood and looked toward the river. If he meant to keep them safe, he needed to make sure there was nothing posing a danger.

  “I’ll be back in a bit.”

  She nodded and led the children to the house.

  He waited until they were out of sight to continue on. He still had the bit of beaded leather. It was enough to cause him concern as to who might be dwelling nearby, and he searched along the banks of the river. Remnants of a campfire informed him that people had camped there but it might have been days, weeks, or months ago. He discovered three well-worn animal trails but no evidence that anything other than animals had used them. Though the Indians would not leave behind signs if they didn’t wish to be discovered.

  The shadows lengthened, hiding darkness in hollows and behind boulders. But he found nothing of concern in any of the places he searched.

  He pulled the bit of leather from his pocket and examined it again. Where could it have come from?

  He made his way back to the house.

  Stella watched him approach, concern drawing back the corners of her mouth.

  “Did you find anythin
g?”

  “No.” The children played together under the tree. He smiled at the play farm they had created. “Can you show me where you found this?” He returned the beaded fragment to Stella.

  She led the way to the raspberries growing along one side of the garden fence. As she pointed out, they had been picked. He examined the ground even though she said she had already done so.

  “I have to check for my own peace of mind. Besides, two sets of eyes are better than one.” He finished examining the length of the bushes, looking at both the ground and the branches. Apart from a few crushed leaves he found nothing to provide any evidence of who or what had been there.

  They returned to the house.

  Aunt Mary watched them. “What is going on?”

  Bruce glanced at Stella, wondering how much she had told his aunt.

  “I told her you were checking the trees along the river in preparation for the return of the cows.”

  A secret understanding passed between them. An affirmation that they were in this together and trying to make the best of it. Learning to exert a degree of faith and trust.

  “Everything is ready for the cows. I’ll ride over tomorrow and bring them home. Are you comfortable, Aunt?”

  “Stella has taken good care of me. She’s very efficient housekeeper. You did well to choose her.”

  Bruce glanced at Stella, but her attention was on slicing the meat. Had they discussed him while he was gone? Would Aunt Mary have told her how dirty and ignorant he had been when she took him in?

  “Supper is ready.” She called the children in. As Bruce and the children washed, Stella put a platter of meat on the already-set table. She added bowls of vegetables and a jug of gravy.

  “Smells mighty fine.”

  “Thank you.”

  He sat in the same spot as before with Stella facing him and the children on either side of them. He said grace and filled his plate.

  It was all so ordinary. A meal around the table. At the same time, it was so foreign he wasn’t sure how to feel. Aunt Mary injured. Children and a wife at the table.

  He was now a married man even though he had decided he would never marry. The sort of woman who would accept him—a former homeless boy—was not the sort of woman he would want to marry. Louella had made that abundantly clear to him in one of her verbal attacks.

  Yet Stella seemed a decent woman.

  Who had married him in name only.

  A business deal.

  He could hope for nothing more.

  Bruce helped get his aunt to bed. She had asked to speak privately to him, and Stella had slipped from the room wondering what Aunt Mary had to say. In a few minutes Bruce came out. He offered no explanation, and she expected none.

  “Would you like tea?” she asked. It was something Preacher and Mrs. Kinsley did each evening. But why had she thought it would be suitable for her situation?

  He looked surprised. Recovered quickly. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

  It was too late to withdraw her offer. She made tea, filled cups, and carried them to the table. Bruce didn’t sit.

  “Let’s drink this outside.” He nodded toward the door.

  A trickle of pleasure played at her lips. She’d always longed to enjoy the evening quiet with Frank, but he said he didn’t care to be outside after a long day of working out there.

  Outdoors, Bruce grabbed two pieces of firewood and stood them against the house.

  “Not fancy. Sorry.”

  “No need to apologize.” She sat on one. After a beat of what she took for as hesitation he sat beside her. At first, he sat up as straight as the tree sheltering the house. Then, with a sigh, he leaned back against the house.

  Stella was at a loss to think why it should be so, but she experienced a bit of satisfaction when he relaxed.

  He asked about her cows. How many? Did she have a plow horse?

  “An ox. Frank said they were hardier than a horse. His name is Brute.”

  Bruce slowly brought his gaze to her. “I’ve never driven an ox.”

  “You won’t have a problem. Brute is gentle and cooperative.”

  “Good to know. I could break that field.” He pointed to the bit of land with one furrow turned over. “I’ll also need to find hay to put up. I expect your cows are in good shape, seeing as Kade has been caring for them.”

  “Kade and Flora,” she corrected with a grin.

  He chuckled. “She’s a surprise. Her being a preacher’s daughter and all.”

  “I do believe the preacher and his wife share that opinion.”

  Their gazes connected, their eyes brimming with amusement. For a second, Stella thought she could enjoy life with a man who shared her sense of humor.

  She better like it. She was bound to him for as long as they both lived. Or until he took a notion to move on. She slid her gaze away toward the river. He wanted her to trust him. But trust would never come easy for her.

  He asked about what plans Frank had.

  Stella shrugged. “Break more land. He never discussed his plans.” They’d never sat and talked about the farm like she and Bruce were doing. It was one of the regrets of her marriage. The lack of sharing thoughts and hopes and dreams. Frank had been practical to the core. Deal with the work ahead and don’t worry about what might be or could be. Life would fall into place one step at a time.

  Stella knew the truth and consolation of those ideals but had often longed for a deeper level of sharing.

  “What did you do back in Kansas?” she asked, hoping he would reveal something about himself.

  He crossed one leg over the other, his ankle on his knee, and perched his cup of tea on his boot. “I hooked up with a man who brought his cows to the railway. I enjoyed working with cattle, and the trail boss was a steady, no-nonsense man. He said he could use a man like me. His approval felt good. But Aunt Mary would have been alone, so I dismissed the idea.”

  It was somewhat reassuring to know he had chosen staying over the allure of taking up the man’s offer. “You’re fortunate that a relative found you. I could hope the same for my children if something happened to me.”

  He chuckled. “Aunt Mary is not a relative. She simply saw a homeless child and knew he needed a home. A few times I’ve asked her why she would take me in. I was wild, dirty, and ill-mannered at the time. She said when God puts a need in front of you, He expects you to pay attention.”

  “Guess the same thing could be said about our marriage. We both had a need.”

  “And God provided the answer?” He studied her, his eyes dark with questions and perhaps, uncertainty.

  She grinned. “Donny as much as told me that you were an answer to his prayers.”

  Their gazes held, each examining the other, seeking, searching…wanting, hoping. He flashed a smile, so unexpected that her heart leapt in response.

  “I like that,” he said, his voice deep with emotion, his words round with pleasure. Then he sobered, and his look changed.

  A tremor of warning settled in her heart. What had she done to displease him?

  “If something happens to you, the children have me.” His words were like hot pellets dropped into the cold air.

  “Of course. I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise.” Except she hadn’t even thought of him when she spoke those words. “It’s all so new…” For a few minutes, she had felt like they’d achieved a connection she could grow to enjoy, and she’d ruined it with a few careless words. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re forgiven.”

  Was it that easy? No sulking. No punishing silence? It’s how her father acted. Thankfully, Frank wasn’t that bad. He simply gave her opinions little value.

  He settled back against the house. “I don’t know what I expected would happen when I got Aunt Mary to her sister. All I was concerned about was her safety. I feared she would be hurt.” His voice deepened. “Someone threw a rock through her window on two occasions. Someone started a fire on her lawn. But I knew I had to get out whe
n a fire was started on her porch. If I hadn’t been there…”

  Stella longed to comfort him. If he’d been one of the children, she would have hugged him. If he was one of the Kinsleys, she squeezed his hand. He was her husband…but a stranger. Still, being married had to mean something. She pressed her hand to his arm. “I’m glad you were there.”

  His arm twitched, and she withdrew her hand.

  He caught her fingers. “Thank you. I am too, though likely no one expected me to be. I was supposed to be at the rail yards but turns out I wasn’t needed.”

  She tried not to think how strange it was to have him hold her hand. Stranger even, that she found it comforting. “Why would anyone threaten your aunt?” A rejected woman didn’t seem reason enough to torment her.

  “To drive me away. I would have gone, but I couldn’t be certain my aunt would be safe. It didn’t take much to persuade her to sell her house and leave.” He chuckled. “I don’t think she thought I could manage on my own.”

  Stella grinned. “My ma used to say no man can manage on his own.”

  “She’d obviously never seen men on a cattle drive. They manage on their own.” He smiled, as if he had a secret. One he wanted to share with her? “Of course, they get dirty, eat without regard to manners. Some refuse to bathe or even wash. Maybe your mother was right.”

  They both settled back. He still held her hand, and she didn’t try to pull away. Why should she? They were man and wife, even if it was only a business arrangement. But there was no reason she shouldn’t enjoy the comfort and camaraderie that their marriage offered.

  She was overstepping the terms of their agreement. Opening herself up to disappointment. “It’s time for me to go to bed.” She stood, pulled her hand from his grasp, and hurried inside.

  His footsteps followed. She heard him close the door as she reached her bedroom.

  “Goodnight,” he called. “I enjoyed our evening.”

  She stepped into the bedroom and closed the door. She’d enjoyed the evening too. And despite her many warnings to be careful or she would be hurt, she smiled as she climbed into her bed.