Читать книгу Oklahoma Sweetheart - Carolyn Davidson, Carolyn Davidson - Страница 7

Chapter Three

Connor’s generosity was surprising—and almost overwhelming. The woodbox had been replenished before he left her alone. He’d gone to town, bought supplies for her and chopped more wood on his return, for over an hour, piling an impressive amount of kindling and good-sized logs on the back porch.

And then he’d left, mounting his horse and riding away without another word, only a casual wave of his hand. Would he return? She doubted it, but then she’d have laid odds that he wouldn’t have shown up the first time. But Connor was a kind, gentle man, feeling a sense of responsibility to a woman in need, even if that woman was his former fiancée.

Loris found a fresh loaf of bread in the supplies Connor had carried into the kitchen. He must have stopped at the bread lady’s house, a small cottage at the edge of town, where lived an elderly soul, Hilda Kane, who existed on the pitiful amount of money her baking brought to her. She baked daily, and Loris had been sent there almost that often to pick up a loaf or two for her mother.

“I could bake my own,” her mother had said more than once, “but she needs the money and I can’t make it any better than Hilda’s.”

Fresh bread was almost enough to make a meal from, Loris decided. She ate the last of the cheese and the few bits of beef left from the morning, and settled before the stove again. The sun had sunk into the western sky and dark clouds hid the moon and stars, promising snow by morning.

But the kitchen was warm, and by tomorrow perhaps she’d feel like venturing into the other rooms, try to settle in a little better. After all, she couldn’t sleep on the kitchen floor for the rest of her life. But for tonight, it would do just fine.

The woman was crazy. There was no way she could survive alone in that deserted house. Connor frowned, finishing up the evening chores. He handled twice as many now, with James gone, but they were done automatically, without thought, as if his body was created to perform the familiar duties of a farmer.

For that was what he was. A farmer. Like his father before him, and his grandfather before that, the Webster men lived off the land. He’d been milking these cows and feeding the stock ever since he could remember.

Connor doubted if his life would be any different than those who’d gone before. He’d always thought to find a nice girl, get married and work the homestead, taking care of his parents until they were gone from this world, leaving the property equally divided between the brothers. His children would follow suit, working and living off the land, and there was a solid feel of security there.

The land would never let you down, his grandpa had said. If you tended your soil and fertilized and weeded your crops, you stood to reap a fine harvest. Unless the summer was dry and the rains refused to fall. Like last year, when the dry spell had chased several families from town, unable to cope with the poverty they faced without a harvest.

Now Loris had claimed the right to squat in one of those places left deserted. And a squatter is what she is, Connor thought bleakly, living on property that didn’t belong to her, yet was unwanted by anyone else. It could probably be purchased for taxes, Connor thought, but Loris didn’t have any money to speak of.

He felt the wad of bills in his pocket, touched the bulk with his palm and recognized that he’d barely made a dent in the cash James left behind for Loris. Maybe Loris would accept the cash more readily if he spent it on back taxes and she could live where she was, legally and aboveboard.

The manure pile was heaped, the fresh bedding spread and the cow milked, all while Connor debated the options left to him. He brought the horses in from the pasture; indeed, they were more than willing to enter the warm barn and find their stalls. The cold was bitter, the wind biting through Connor’s coat as he headed back toward his parents’ house, a place in which he no longer felt the warmth of home.

“You finished?” his mother asked, dishing up a bowl of stew for him. “Your pa ate already. He’s not in a good mood,” she said glumly.

And wasn’t that the truth. The man had been deserted by his favorite son, had been left with one less pair of hands to keep the place up. He’d no doubt have to hire a man to help out. And that would involve finding a place for that man to sleep. Probably a small room could be made habitable in the barn, or else Pa might just hire someone who lived nearby, close enough to come in by the day.

“All done?” his mother asked again. She’d been crying, her eyes swollen and reddened, her skin shiny as if it had been washed by a multitude of tears.

“Yes, I’m not very hungry,” Connor said, rising from the table. Things were different with James gone. He’d always been the joker, the one with a ready wit and a tall tale to tell over the supper table. Now they were reduced to eating separately, for he’d guarantee his mother had eaten standing at the stove. Nothing was the same.

“Did you go see Loris?” his mother asked. “Did she know that James was gone?”

“She knew,” Connor said quietly. And then decided he might as well fill her in on the mess James had left behind. “Loris is going to have a baby, Ma. And James is the father.”

Peggy Webster’s mouth dropped open, but no words came forth. She wiped her hands on the front of her apron, then stuffed them in the voluminous pockets, still silent.

“And before you ask, James knew when he left that Loris was bound to be abandoned by her folks. They kicked her out last night.”

“Where is she?”

“In a deserted farmhouse. I followed her tracks and found her this morning. Got her some supplies and chopped a bit of wood for her.”

“James wouldn’t marry her?” Her voice was dull, her eyes hopeless, as if she couldn’t imagine her son ignoring his responsibilities so casually. “He got her in the family way and just ran off? I can’t believe your brother would do that.”

“He gave me some money for her, but she doesn’t want to accept it,” Connor said, deliberately concealing his planned use of the cash.

“And Minnie threw her out? It was bitter cold last night.”

“Minnie Peterson doesn’t act like she gives a good gol-dern about her daughter, Ma. I saw her this morning, and she was as cold as any woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Maybe she’ll change her mind. After all, that’s her grandchild Loris is carrying.”

“It’s your grandchild, too,” Connor said softly, and watched as that fact sank into his mother’s conscious mind.

“So it is,” she said idly, smoothing her apron with a practiced touch. “Would she come here, do you suppose?”

“Loris?” And at his mother’s nod, Connor shook his head. “I doubt she wants much to do with any of us right now. She’s got pride aplenty, and she’s bound and determined to make it on her own.”

His mother stood silent a moment, then spoke words that sounded almost spiteful, he thought. “James must have had good reason not to stick up for her. Maybe she’s just bad news.” She paused and then sighed, rather dramatically, he thought. “But you’re going to help her, aren’t you, Connor?”

He hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll help her, Ma. As much as she’ll let me.”

He’d go to town tomorrow and check at the tax office, see what was owed on the place where Loris had camped out. Find out if he could pay the taxes and take over the farm.

In the meantime, he’d do well to ride out there and be sure she was all right, staying on her own in a deserted house, with no gun or even a dog to keep her safe. In ten minutes, he’d saddled his horse and donned his heaviest coat. A warm scarf circled his throat and heavy gloves warmed his fingers. From the kitchen, his mother watched as he rode away and he offered her a wave of his hand, causing her to lift her own palm to press against the window. It was a gesture he’d seen many times before, whenever one of her menfolk had left home and she couldn’t bear to wave goodbye.

The Webster place was on the opposite end of town from Loris’s haven, and Connor made his way past the business establishments. Everyone was gone home for the night, only the saloon still being lit, with voices sounding loudly within.

He passed the home Loris had lived in all of her life, noting the lights glowing in the front parlor and in a bedroom window upstairs. How they could rest, not knowing where their daughter was, was beyond him. Didn’t they care? Or did their hurt run so deeply they couldn’t allow themselves to yearn for their girl?

He rode on, past the lighted houses where folks were readying for bed. And then he spotted the farmhouse where Loris was keeping warm. He rode to the back yard, tied his horse to an upright post and climbed the three steps to the wide porch. Through the window, he caught sight of a shadowed figure, passing between himself and the lamp glow.

His knuckles rapped twice on the door and he called her name. “Loris? It’s Connor. Can I come in?”

She opened the door, just a few inches, as though loath to allow him entrance. “It’s late, Connor,” she said softly. “I’m about to blow out the lamp and go to sleep.”

“Where?” he asked. “On the kitchen floor?”

“It’s the warmest place in the house,” she told him sharply. “And warmth is what interests me right now. I’ll think about using one of the bedrooms tomorrow, maybe. If I can get a fire going in the fireplace, I’ll probably use the larger room.”

“I’ll light a fire for you if you want to sleep there tonight.” Something about the woman held him here, and he could not have spoken aloud just what it was. She was brave, willing to depend on herself, and yet he felt the aura of need flow from one to the other of them, a cry for him, lest he turn and leave her alone.

“I’ll be all right on the floor. Truly,” she said quietly, unwilling, it seemed, to meet his gaze, looking instead down at the floor where her quilt lay. It looked to be a cold, lonesome spot on which to sleep, but it sure beat being outdoors. If it was what Loris wanted, he couldn’t force her to do otherwise. Still, he felt the urge to try.

His arms encircled her, his body responded to her as it always had, and his mouth descended to touch hers with a tender touch. “Please, let me help you.”

Her eyes were dark and seemed empty of hope. “What can you do? Chop wood? You’ve already done that.”

“I’m going to pay the back taxes on this place, and then I’ll make certain that you have enough food to eat and wood to burn for a while. That way you’ll have a shelter to live, and I’ll rest easier, knowing that you’re not going to starve or freeze to death.”

“You’ll pay the back taxes?” She frowned. “How can you do that? It’ll require a lot of money, Connor.”

“James is going to provide that for you, Loris. It’s bad enough he’s deserted you, the least he can do is pay for a place for you to live.”

“I don’t want his help.” Her chin lifted stubbornly and her mouth tightened.

“I didn’t ask you,” Connor told her. “I’m going to take care of it, and if I have to, I’ll stay here with you to make certain you’re all right.”

“You’ll have the whole town talking.”

“You think I really care? Not about myself anyway. But, mark my words, if anyone has anything to say about you, Loris, I’ll hang him up to dry.”

“I didn’t know you were so tough,” she said, her smile appearing.

“Not usually,” he admitted. “But right now, I feel like you’ve been abandoned by too many people, and I need to stick close and let you know that someone cares.”

“You really care, Connor?” Her voice sounded dubious and she looked away from his gaze as if she could not believe his claim.

“You’re a human being, hurt and alone. And more than that, you’re a woman who’s been betrayed by a man. Maybe I just need to make amends for James. I don’t know. But I do know that I can’t walk away from you.”

She felt his arms tighten around her, knew for a moment the joy of being held in a man’s embrace. Even if he only felt sorry for her, she couldn’t help but rejoice in that fact. She’d been so alone, so close to the end of her rope. And now Connor was here.

“Will you have something to eat?” She motioned toward the cupboard where her store of food for tomorrow rested behind glass doors. “I can fix you some toast in the oven, and there’s jam.”

“Any coffee?” He looked searchingly at the stove, as though a coffeepot might miraculously appear there.

“I’ll heat it in a pan,” she offered. “I emptied the pot, so the leftovers wouldn’t taste burnt, but it’ll only take a minute to bring to a boil.”

He nodded. “Sounds good to me. And then we’ll talk about me staying here for the night.”

She’d meant to send him on his way, but Connor was not easily deterred, for he hauled in his bedroll and the leather pack carrying his personal effects and bedded down for the night at her backside.

Now she lay beside him, aware that he was awake, knowing he had put his reputation on the line by staying with her, and yet was unable to deny the peace his presence delivered to her aching heart.

“You awake?” His whisper was soft, but she smiled as she heard his familiar tones. “Are you warm enough, Loris?”

“I’m fine. Just thinking about my nice feather pillow from my bed at home.”

“You don’t need a pillow with me here, honey. Turn over and lie on my shoulder. I’ll keep you warm.”

It was tempting, but she shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine here.”

As if he allowed her the privacy she’d asked for, he merely shifted to curl around her, his wide chest against her back, his arm lifting to fit itself around her middle. Through the quilt, she felt the warmth of long legs against her own, and knew the heat of a warm body as it drove the night chill away.

“Thank you.” The words seemed but little thanks to express her appreciation, but they were all she knew to offer. And it seemed he didn’t expect any more from her, for his arm tightened a bit and then relaxed around the curve of her waist.

“Sleep, Loris.” Perhaps another time, she might have considered it a command, maybe even resented it, but tonight, he was here and she was needy of comfort.

The rooster awoke her early, just as dawn was tinging the sky with morning light, and the glow was edging the shuttered windows. The gloom of the room was giving way to dim daylight when she stirred, felt Connor’s hand tighten on her waist, and then remembered that she was not alone.

“Turn over here.” He left her no room for discussion, only commanded her obedience in a firm voice that seemed rough and raw to her ears.

She straightened her legs and rolled toward him, aware that his body was mere inches from hers, that his arm still enfolded her and his body heat warmed her. Even with the quilt thrown from her shoulder, she was not cold. No great amount of fire still burned behind her in the stove, the last of Connor’s forays to add wood having taken place in the middle of the night.

“Now just rest for a bit.” His arms enclosed her and she relaxed against him, too thankful for his presence to admit her doubts about the decency of the situation in which she found herself this morning.

She felt his mouth touch her forehead, felt his hands roam her back. Like two hot bricks they left their images wherever they touched, and she could barely contain the shivers that swept over her. His throat was so close, his skin held the aroma of soap and a male scent that tempted her closer, and she brought her lips to rest against whiskered skin. Her lips felt the tiny stubbles of his beard and she shifted to where his skin was softer, nearer his ear, feeling his quick reaction to her caresses.

“Loris?” She thought his voice trembled, and yet could barely place credence in the thought. And then he spoke her name again, more tenderly this time, it seemed, and she lifted her face to gaze deeply into his eyes.

“Don’t be giving me this sort of encouragement, sweetheart,” he said tenderly. “It wouldn’t take much for me to roll over on top of you and make you mine, even without marriage.”

“I haven’t told you not to, Connor. In fact, I’ve almost given you the right.”

“But I don’t have the right. Not now. Not without a wedding. I’m not sure you’re ready for that.”

“I’m just surprised you even want to be this close to me, after what I did to you,” she said quietly.

“That sorta takes a back seat when I’m with you. I’ve felt a deep hurt, Loris. I won’t deny that, but you’ve been betrayed by my brother, and I can’t let that go. And if being with you and helping you make a home here helps to fix the mess you’re in right now, then that’s what I want to do.”

He seemed to be searching for words, and she could only wish that his actions had nothing to do with James’s behavior…that Connor would care for her for his own reasons.

And as if he heard her thoughts and wanted to reassure her, he spoke again. “I’m not out for revenge on James, but I need to make reparation for what happened to you. If helping you is making me happy, then I hope you’ll allow me to have my way in this.”

“I won’t fight you, Connor. I care about you, and I’ll never be able to thank you enough for helping me.”

He squeezed her tightly, and then released her. “Well, that’s settled then. Now let’s get up before I get any more…” he paused as if searching for a phrase to describe his condition “…any more randy than I am right now,” he finished.

“All right.” She would not argue his wisdom in bringing a halt to this scene. She’d gotten in trouble by being impetuous before. There was no sense in making a bad situation worse. And Connor was an honorable man. She respected him.

They ate breakfast together and Connor set off for town, his plans made. He would pay the back taxes, stop at the general store and order a new table from the Sears, Roebuck catalog. A table with long benches for either side, to put in the kitchen.

That done, he bought some warm bedding for the big bed upstairs, then searched out an assortment of warm clothing for Loris to wear. What he hadn’t planned on was the curious looks of the storekeeper as Connor’s bill was tallied.

“You plannin’ on settin’ up housekeeping, boy?” Nothing was kept a secret long in this town. That was a given, and Connor’s purchases were bound to be the subject of speculation before noon, given the speed of the local ladies’ gossip.

“No, just picking up a few things,” Connor told him.

“I understand the Petersons tossed their girl out in the snow the other night. You hear about that?”

“I heard,” Connor said dryly. “Everyone in town heard by now, I’m sure.”

The storekeeper leaned closer. “Did you hear she was in the family way?”

Again Connor nodded and agreed. “Yeah, I heard that, too. Seems like the folks hereabouts are real busy passing the word around.”

“I thought you was gonna marry her, back a ways.”

“Did you?” Connor dug in his pocket for cash and slowly counted out the amount of his purchases.

“Still gonna take her to the preacher?”

“Are you always this nosy?” he asked, “or is this a special occasion?” His eyes narrowed as he stepped back to observe the man.

“Didn’t mean no harm,” the storekeeper said quickly. “I was just wonderin’.” He pointed down to the scribbling that represented Connor’s order for the merchandise from the catalog. “I’ll take care of this right away. Should be here in two, three weeks.”

“Let me know. I’m in town every once in a while.”

“Maybe I can just send word to your folks’ place. You’re still livin’ there, ain’t ya?”

Connor’s jaw tightened. “I’ll stop by when I come to town. Don’t be sending any word anywhere. You hear me?”

The man nodded. “Yes sir, I surely do.”

Connor felt the bulk of the deed in his pocket as he left the store, although the sheaf of papers could not have weighed more than a few ounces. He touched the front of his coat, heard the reassuring rustle of the paperwork he’d had made out, and grinned. Loris would be pleased to know that she needn’t move anytime soon, that the place where she’d taken shelter was her own, to do with as she pleased.

He pulled his horse up next to the Benson’s place and dismounted. Within thirty minutes, he owned a cow and a half-grown pup from the litter in Joe’s barn. A nondescript mutt, he looked to be part shepherd, and seemed to be gentle, his tongue reaching out to seek Connor’s warm skin as they traveled together on the horse.

By the time they reached the farm where Loris had taken up residence, a place she owned now, Connor was feeling pleased with himself. A huge bundle hung on either side of his saddle, a dog lay across his lap and a good milk cow followed behind him on a lead rope. He’d had a profitable trip to town.

Loris came out onto the porch, one hand on her back, her hair askew. “What do you have there?” she asked with a grin. “More work for me to do, I’ll bet. What makes you think I can milk a cow?”

“You’re a talented woman, ma’am. Milking shouldn’t be too big a problem for you to solve. And look here at what I brought you.” He dismounted, holding the dog in his arms. Legs dangled helter-skelter, all four of them longer than he’d remembered, and as Loris approached, she was served with a dose of the dog’s affection.

“He’s just happy to see you,” Connor said with a laugh. “Must be he likes ladies.”

“Well, I didn’t need a kiss so early on in our acquaintance,” Loris told him. “I’d just as soon he not be so friendly.”

“You’ll be glad he’s here at night, I suspect. And I don’t know just how friendly he’d be should some stranger ride up or give you grief.”

“He’s really mine?” Her hand lifted to pet the tawny head, and the dog wiggled in ecstasy as Connor put him on the ground and gave him the freedom to roll on his back before his new mistress. She knelt beside him, buried her fingers in the hair on his throat, petted his long legs as if she were measuring their length, and then looked up at Connor.

“Can I call him Rusty?”

Connor looked perplexed. “Where’d you get such a name for a dog?”

“I had a pup once, and my father’s horse stepped on him in the barn. Killed him, of course. His name was Rusty, and I always thought—”

“Of course you can. Call this little fella anything you want to. He’s your dog, and I have a suspicion that no matter what you name him, he’ll come a’runnin’ when you yell out his name.”

“You think he likes me?” Her words sounded hopeful, childlike almost, but Connor squatted beside her and ran his hand over Rusty’s head.

“I’d say it was a sure thing, sweetheart. He seems quite taken with you. He’s a male, isn’t he?” His look begged a smile from her and she did not deny him his reward for bringing her the pet.

“You don’t know how happy you’ve made me,” she said quietly. “He can sleep in the house and look after me.”

“I thought that was my job.” Connor spoke the words bluntly, expectantly, and waited for her to reply.

“You can share the duties of watchdog, if you like, Connor. I just meant, when I was alone here, he’d be good protection. When you’re here, I don’t need anyone else to keep an eye on things.” She eyed the bundles he’d tied on his horse. “What else did you bring home?”

Connor wondered if she realized how easily that word had slipped out. Home. It sounded just fine to him, and he hoped she’d come to feel that this place was truly hers, that it was her home. Now, he undid the straps that held his purchases in place and carried the two wrapped packages to the house.

“Come take a look. I got some warm bedding and a couple of things for you to wear. I wanted you to be warm enough when you go out to milk the cow.” His smile lent humor, and he hoped she would not balk at his buying clothing for her.

It seemed she would not do anything to fault his gifts, the shawl, the house shoes, new flannel shirts to be worn over her dresses or with the trousers he’d bought, guessing at the size, aware that they must accommodate a growing figure.

“I got you a belt to hold these up for a while,” he told her. “A little later on, they’ll stay up by themselves, when you’ve gotten a little rounder.”

“Fatter, you mean.” She produced a pout, and he was hard pressed not to bend over and kiss it from her mouth. Leaving Loris alone, not spending his affections on her, was going to be a tough row to hoe, he decided. His first impulse was to haul her up the stairs into the biggest bed on the second floor. But she wasn’t ready for that sort of thing, yet. In fact, she might never be. Maybe her heart was still set on James. He didn’t know.

“Connor?” She spoke his name softly.

His look was distracted. What had she asked him? And then he recalled her words. Fatter, you mean. The thought was so ludicrous, he could not help but smile. “I’ll never call you fat. Not even plump, Loris. You’ll always look good to me. You’re pregnant, and that’s a whole different thing.”

As if he had pleased her enormously, she smiled brilliantly, an expression that brought to mind the girl he’d fallen in love with so long ago. “Tell me that again in five months or so.” She grinned at him and reached up to kiss his cheek. “You’re a good man, Connor Webster. Too good for me, but if you want to hang around, I’ll let you.”

He’d already decided to hang around, had already made plans to look after her. But her theory, that he was too good for her, was not to be believed. He was too close to laying claim to her to think himself a saint. And yet, he knew that a man could desire a woman without deep emotional ties connecting them. Only time would tell if his attraction to Loris held even a thread of what it would take to keep a marriage together.