Читать книгу Family on the Range - Jessica Nelson - Страница 12

Chapter Four

Children complicated matters.

And that was why Lou didn’t want them around.

He hated lying in this bed, waiting while Mary sat beside him with that stoic look stuck on her face. Deliberating. The little girl buried her head in Mary’s embrace, ignoring Lou and his demand.

Josie was in a heap of trouble. He could tell that much. None of her own doing, of course, but her safety was a priority now. He wanted things to return to normal, and he didn’t want to worry about this little girl. Somehow it was up to him to get this mess straightened out.

“I will ask who this man is when the time is right,” Mary said at length. Her arms tightened around the girl.

She already felt protective. He admired that, but she’d get her heart broken. He frowned, knowing he felt the same way, too.

“Josie.”

The girl made a muffled noise and didn’t look at him.

“Josie,” he said again, lowering his voice and injecting some sternness into it.

She shuffled around, hair mussed about her face, eyes bright. Her little lips puckered into a pout. “What?”

“Will you tell us who that man is?”

Mary stroked the girl’s forehead, her skin a rich color against Josie’s blond curls. Josie blinked at him. “I don’t wanna.”

Chagrined, Lou told himself to be patient. This wasn’t a case. Just a little girl who needed to go home, who needed to be safe. Especially before his concern for her turned him crazy. Or worse, drowned him in the sorrow of his losses.

“We want to help you find your mommy,” he said with his most winning smile. It worked regularly on women of all ages and didn’t fail with the girl. Obviously charmed, her dimples flashed.

“My mommy doesn’t feel good. I’m not s’posed to bother her.”

“Sweetie, she probably misses you,” Mary said.

“She sleeps too much.” Josie’s dimples disappeared.

“Do you know your address in Portland? A phone number?”

“You sound grumpy, Mister Lou. I think you need a nap.”

“I agree.” Mary gave him a look that was the equivalent of sticking her tongue out at him. It made him almost want to smile.

She’d changed from the frightened young woman brought to his door years ago. She’d pulled her hair to the side, exposing the lovely bone structure of her face, the deep mystery in her eyes.

He mentally shook himself. What was he thinking?

She was practically a sister.

He glared at the subject of his errant thoughts. “Are you making me something to eat?”

“You just ate pancakes.”

“I’m still hungry.”

“I will, Mister Lou,” piped up Josie. “Be good and I’ll bring you some soup. Right, Miss Mary?”

“How about meat?” he asked hopefully. The gurgle in his stomach wasn’t getting any quieter. A man needed something to stick to his ribs.

“You’ll get what’s best for you.” Mary shot him a quiet smile as she ushered Josie out the door.

“Wait,” he called out.

She paused at the door, but Josie ran off. He heard the pitter-patter of her feet, and then she yelled for James in a voice that could wake a corpse in its grave. Even though seeing her pained him in ways he didn’t want to explore, he couldn’t help the reluctant tilt that grabbed his lips and wouldn’t let go.

“She’s something.”

“Yes, she is.” Mary cleared her throat. “Was there anything else?”

“Just keep talking to her. Soon as I can get up I’ll take her into town. Find her a safe house.”

“She’s my responsibility, Lou. I’m praying about what to do.”

He arched a brow at her and she had the grace to flush.

“I’m sure God wants me to find her family,” she said. “In the meantime, I want to take care of her.”

“God doesn’t need to be brought into this. Do the right thing.”

“I will.” Eyes flashing, she shut the door harder than necessary.

He sighed and relaxed against the pillow, just now realizing how tense his muscles had become. How long did he have to stay in this sickbed? Why, the last time he’d been wounded he’d been down only a few days and then a new case cropped up and he’d headed out.

But a week had passed this time, and he still couldn’t sit up without feeling dizzier than a bootlegger spending too much time in a speakeasy. If he stayed here much longer... He didn’t think he could take much more of Mary’s God talk. Let alone seeing Josie every day.

This wasn’t a good place for the little girl. That man was looking for her, and he’d be back. They needed to find her mother and a different place so no harm would come to her.

And then there was Mary. After being kidnapped, sold by Trevor’s mother, Julia, surely she should see that God didn’t care anything for her or her life. It was a lesson he himself had learned the hard way. He just hoped the whole situation with Josie didn’t deal Mary too harsh a blow. Maybe he’d warn her somehow. Soften the news.

Smothering an oath, he shifted position. Why should he warn her? The idea suddenly struck him as pompous. Who was he anyway?

Just a federal agent who wanted nothing to do with God, women or kids. And now he was stuck with all three.

* * *

Never had Mary met a more grumpy man than a bedridden Lou Riley. Gritting her teeth, she carried his breakfast tray up to his room, Josie tagging behind her.

“After this can we go see the horses? And the cows, too? I’ve never touched a cow. Can I touch a cow, Mary? Just one time?”

“We’ll see,” said Mary. We’ll see had become her answer to Josie’s constant questions. Was it safe to let a little girl near the cows? She’d learned to ride horses at a young age, but probably not as young as Josie. The girl had proudly told her and James last night at dinner that she was five years old, almost six. A smile tugged at Mary’s mouth. She looked down at Josie, who was marching past her on the steps, stretching her little legs to skip a step at a time.

“Be careful you don’t trip on your new dress,” she reminded her. The past few nights had been spent creating a wardrobe for Josie. She’d loved every stitch.

“I’m not gonna trip.” Josie stood at the top, arms folded proudly across her chest. “Can I take Mister Lou his breakfast?”

“You’ll stay in the hall.”

“But I miss him.”

Mary balanced the tray on her hip while fumbling for the doorknob. What should she say to such a sweet comment when it was obvious Lou felt uncomfortable with Josie? “I’d really like to get the kitchen cleaned up so we can go outside. Maybe you could sweep the floor?”

“By myself?” Josie’s face brightened. Her arms swung back and forth, and then she started hopping on one foot.

“Absolutely.” Mary grinned. Could children see past a distraction? Josie didn’t seem to. “You did a wonderful job practicing with me the past few nights. It’s time to put your skills to use.”

“Yay!” She spun, twirling the skirt of her spring-green skirt. She leaped down the stairs so quickly a little hiccup of fear filled Mary’s throat.

When Josie disappeared from view, safe from the treacherous descent, Mary tried the doorknob again. The door swung open, and she sidled in. “Breakfast.”

“Lots of bacon, I hope.” Lou stared at her from where he sat propped against the headboard. The sickening pallor that had tinged his skin the first week was now gone. He looked much healthier.

And too handsome for his own good. Or hers.

A rush of longing pulsed through Mary. She missed Lou’s ready smile, the twinkle he usually handed out so generously. The longer he was cooped up, though, the more it felt as if he disliked her.

Even now he wouldn’t meet her eyes. Perhaps it was better this way. Better to break off her dependency on him before he left again on a new assignment. Gaze downcast, she focused on getting the food settled on his side table. Clinking filled the room, and the sound of their breaths, quiet and steady.

So be it, she thought grimly.

Ignoring him, she went to the curtains and pulled them open. Sunlight poured in, a giant wave of light that bathed the room. The sound of rustling followed by Lou sipping his coffee pounded against her ears. Normally she loved silence. Reveled in its clean reliability.

Not now. Lou didn’t know how not to talk. The silence in this room clouded her peace, its unnaturalness filling her with disquiet. She risked a glance his way, her heart thudding in her chest.

He was watching her.

Hair disheveled, eyes like sapphires in the morning light, his gaze trained so deeply on her that a pleasant shiver cut to her very core. She swallowed hard and broke the connection.

“You stare at me,” she said, gaze trained on the wall behind him.

“Do you mind?”

“It is...odd.” But not unwelcome. The realization startled her. She turned her back to him, whisking to the closet and pretending to look through his clothes. “Are you in need of anything laundered?”

“Mary—” Lou’s voice broke off on a ragged note.

“Yes?” As if against her own will, she found herself facing him across the room. She was too aware of the pulse slamming through her veins, too aware of terror, and something different, something unnamed, working in her throat.

At that moment, James poked his head past the open door and gave a gruff throat clear before looking at Lou.

“Telegram,” he said. He shuffled in and flipped a small white envelope onto Lou’s lap. He glanced at Mary. “You got a young’un dusting up a bunch of dirt in the kitchen. You know that?”

Oh, no. Darting the men an apologetic smile, she raced out the door. By the time she reached the kitchen, she felt calm enough to dismiss Lou’s strange perusal from her mind and focused her attention on the sprite standing in the middle of the kitchen, a cheeky grin on her face.

Mary stopped at the entrance, her gaze scanning the room. Everything looked fine. Shining floor, broom propped against the wall. She relaxed.

“Well, it looks as though you’ve done a marvelous job. How about we visit those cows?”

She followed a rambunctious Josie out the door. Together they trekked toward the stables and barn, stopping to pick flowers on the way. Josie’s blond curls glimmered as she hopped through the sparse grasses and shrubs. Desert flowers, in various stages of bloom, drew the little girl’s attention and her high-pitched giggle sparkled like glitter on the breeze.

The sun warmed Mary’s face, while the sage-scented air seemed to lift the worries from her heart.

Be anxious for nothing, but in everything, by prayer and supplication, let your requests be made known to God.

In this moment, she chose not to fret over Josie and her lack of family. Nor could she allow Lou to take the joy from what she wanted to build in this place. A peace she’d prayed hard for filled her soul.

Who knew what God intended? Josie’s laugh rang clear and charming. Perhaps He didn’t plan for her to be alone the rest of her life after all.