Читать книгу Once Upon A Thanksgiving - Linda Ford - Страница 10

Kathleen leaned close, not wanting to miss a word of Buck’s explanation. Something about the fondness between Buck and Joey made her wonder if a heart could weep with emotion.

Buck settled back in his chair, a distant look in his eyes, as if he lived the past again. “It was a year ago this past spring and I was heading west. Heard a rancher out there needed a few more hands. Figured it was as good a place as any to find work. I rode up a little ridge and stopped to look around. Remember thinking the mountains made a mighty purty sight, glistening with their winter snowcaps under the bright sunshine. Then I brought my gaze closer to hand and saw what appeared to be the remains of a wagon accident. Rode on down to investigate.” He paused and swallowed hard.

Kathleen guessed what he’d found had been unpleasant.

“A man and his wife had been killed.”

“Bad man shoot Mama and Papa,” Joey said, his voice betraying a thread of sorrow.

“The woman was Indian, the man appeared to be a white miner. I gave them a decent burial and marked the place with fragments of their wagon. There were no papers, no identification. Everything had been picked through and scattered.”

“Man look for Papa’s money. Find it. Steal it.” As Joey listed the deeds he kept his attention on his bowl of soup, though he no longer lifted the spoon to his mouth.

Buck squeezed the back of Joey’s neck and the boy relaxed visibly. “I knew from the things left that a child had been with them. I hated the thought the murderers had taken him. It was late in the day so I made camp, intending to resume my journey in the morning. During the night I heard something or someone, but the intruder was gone as fast as he came.”

“I was hungry,” Joey explained.

Buck chuckled. “When I got up I knew no critter had been in my camp. Only things missing were biscuits and beans. So I hunkered down over my breakfast and studied the tracks. Knew it was a child. Guessed it was the one who’d been on the wagon.”

“I hide from bad man. Hide from Buck, too. I not know he not be a bad man.”

“Took me a few days to prove it. Then I headed to the nearest town. No one knew the dead family. No one knew Joey. He didn’t know of any family but his ma and pa. The sheriff made inquiries. But nothing. I asked the preacher what I should do and he said, why not adopt him? So I did.”

The way he grinned gave Kathleen an emptiness, as if her life lacked something. She tried valiantly to dismiss the feeling. After all, what could her life be lacking? Her parents provided her with everything she needed. She had been at finishing school getting a privileged education until her mother’s illness required she return home to help care for her. As soon as her mother felt better, she’d return to the Eastern college. She hadn’t been there long enough to make friends, but when she got back she would. God willing, she’d find a friend who would remain loyal throughout their years at college.

Above and beyond that, she had a living relationship with God. Had never doubted His love and care. Still, had she ever done anything half as noble as Buck had? Had she ever loved anyone like Buck loved Joey? Had she ever been loved like that? Yes, her parents loved her, she had no doubt, but it seemed their love carried heavy expectations.

Buck watched her. His eyes revealed understanding. Warmth.

As if he read her thoughts.

She ducked her head, amazed at how foolish she proved to be. Until this moment she considered herself a commonsense person who didn’t think or act rashly.

“Buck my papa.” Joey sounded so proud, Kathleen’s throat tightened.

She dare not look at Buck again, afraid of the way her emotions clogged her heart. Instead, she glanced at Rosie. When she saw the same glisten of tears in her eyes she felt in her own, she sniffed.

“Yes, I am. And you’re my son. Forever and always.”

Kathleen couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think beyond the stuffiness in her nose. Never before had she known such open affection between a man and his son … his adopted son, though she guessed he wouldn’t acknowledge any distinction. He seemed such a decent man.

Rosie blew her nose on a hankie. “You’re a good man, Buck, but it doesn’t change anything.”

Kathleen couldn’t imagine why Rosie was so fearful.

“I’m well aware of it. I’m only here until Joey is better.”

At that moment, Joey’s head nodded. Buck caught him before he planted his face in the bowl of soup. He lifted the boy, tossed his coat on the floor in the corner and was about to put Joey there.

Kathleen gave Rosie a hard look. “Are you going to let him sleep on the floor? The boy is sick. Besides—” she lowered her voice “—don’t you think he’s been through enough?”

Rosie lifted her hands in a sign of defeat. “I give up. Buck, use the room past the stove. It’s our bedroom, but I can’t bring myself to sleep there with Bill gone.”

Buck jerked to full attention. “He’s gone? How long ago?” He shifted his gaze to the children who played in the doorway.

“He left a few weeks ago to work in a logging camp. We came here expecting a job but it fell through. We can’t live in the camp so Bill left us here.” She glanced about. “This is a nice, solid little house.”

Buck let out a noisy gust. “I thought you meant he was gone … gone for good, as in … well, you know.”

Rosie grinned widely. “If you could see the look on your face …” She tipped her head back and looked pleased with herself. “I have to admit I enjoyed that. Sort of evens us up for you showing up at my door.”

Kathleen couldn’t read the look the two exchanged. Sharing a secret. She felt she intruded into their lives without invitation. She envied them their obvious affection. She wondered if they realized how blessed they were to have each other and their children.

“Consider us even, then. I’m happy to let you do so.” Buck shouldered his way into the room. A cold draft blasted through the kitchen.

Junior waited until Buck was out of sight. “Mama, do we have to stay here forever?”

Rosie crossed the room and took Lilly. “Come on over. It will soon be time for supper.”

Kathleen glanced out the window. Long shadows slanted across the skiff of snow. She jumped to her feet. “I’ve stayed far too long. Mother will be worrying.” Her coat hung near the stove and she shrugged into it, pulled on her fur hat and mittens.

Buck stood in the bedroom doorway, watching.

She felt his measured consideration. Determined to ignore him, she turned to Rosie instead. “I could come back tomorrow.” Perhaps Rosie wouldn’t welcome her company as eagerly now that her brother was there. “If you want.”

Rosie’s lips flattened. “Nobody’s forcing you to come.”

Kathleen refused to be offended by the woman’s remarks. In the few weeks she’d been visiting, she’d learned Rosie didn’t expect any offers of friendship. But Kathleen didn’t intend to be a fair-weather friend. She patted Rosie’s shoulder. “I only asked because I thought you might enjoy spending time alone with your brother.” For some insane reason her cheeks warmed. She could well imagine such pleasure.

Rosie nodded. “I’m sorry for being prickly. It’s just …” She darted a look toward Buck. The pair sent wordless messages to each other, then Rosie shrugged. “I’d be pleased if you’d come again.”

Kathleen understood Rosie’s caution. She, too, had learned to wonder if a friend would visit again. “I’ll be back. After all, we have that quilt to work on.” She’d noticed a shortage of warm bedding and offered to help Rosie sew a quilt. Rosie had scraps of material and Kathleen intended to supply a woolen batt.

Only when she reached the outer door did she allow herself to look directly at Buck. “It was nice meeting you, Mr.—” She realized he’d never given his surname.

He grinned. “Buck is name enough for me.”

“Nice meeting you, Buck.” She knew she blushed to speak so familiarly. Her parents would be shocked.

“My pleasure, Miss Sanderson.”

The way he said it made her cheeks grow even warmer.

She scurried out and rushed toward home. When had she ever had such a reaction to any man? Never. But then she’d never before met such a cowboy, never seen such a kind smile. Her feet slowed. What was she thinking?

Nothing. Nothing at all, except it would be nice for Rosie to have a man around to take care of filling the wood box and fetching water.

It would be equally as nice for Buck to have a place to care for his son.

Her parents both sat in the drawing room and glanced up as Kathleen hurried in, rubbing her hands together to ease the chill.

“You’re very late,” Mother said. “I was beginning to worry.”

Father lowered the papers he’d been reading and studied Kathleen. “I’m still not comfortable with you going to that woman’s shack. It’s in a rough area of town. You aren’t safe.”

Kathleen held back annoyance at their continued resistance to her being friends with Rosie. “There is no danger.” For some reason, Buck’s image flitted through her mind. There was something about him his sister considered threatening, but she couldn’t imagine it was the kind of danger her father meant. “Rosie and her children are very nice people. You would like them if you ever got to know them.”

Mother fluttered her hand. “That’s not likely to ever happen, is it? We simply don’t belong in the same circles.”

Kathleen had invited Rosie to attend church with her. Assured her she would be welcome. “I would think rich and poor are both welcome in the church.”

“Why, of course they are.” But Rosie heard her unspoken qualifier—just don’t expect us to sit in the same pew.

Having no desire to argue with them or upset them, Kathleen let the topic end. She sank to an ottoman at her mother’s knees and took her hands. “How have you been this afternoon?”

“I’ve managed to sit up and read a bit.” Mother’s voice quavered. “I’m sure I’m getting stronger.”

Father set aside his papers. “Kathleen, I should think you could see your mother needs your care. I don’t like you neglecting her when she’s not well.”

Stung by his criticism, Kathleen remained on the stool beside her mother. “Mother sleeps much of the afternoon. I only intend to be gone during that time.”

He glanced at the big grandfather clock ticking out the seconds in demanding rhythm.

“Today was different. Rosie’s brother and his little boy showed up, and the time simply slipped away on me.”

Father leaned forward in his chair. “A brother? Good. He can take care of his sister and you can find a more suitable pastime.” He sat back, satisfied life would fit into his sense of right and order.

“Father, I promised her I would help her sew a quilt. I told her I would return tomorrow. I hope you won’t say I can’t go.” She couldn’t imagine returning to the boredom of sitting quietly in an armchair reading as her mother slept.

Father tapped his knee and considered her. “You used to be such an obedient child. I should never have sent you East to that college. They’ve filled your head with all sorts of radical ideas. I’m glad you’ve had cause to return home. Given time, I expect you will come to your senses.” He flipped the paper in front of his face, signaling he’d spoken his last word on the subject.

Kathleen eased a sigh of relief over her teeth. At least he hadn’t forbidden her to return, which left her free to do so. In the future, she would simply return before the afternoon was spent.

She schooled herself not to smile with anticipation of a visit the next day. Nor would she admit, even to herself, that it was the thought of seeing Buck again that brought the smile to her lips.

She only wanted to assess if the affection she’d witnessed was as evident as she remembered. And check if Joey was feeling better.

Buck sponged Joey several more times and fed him more broth throughout the evening. For now he seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

Rosie glanced in on them. “Likely all he needs is a warm bed and decent food.”

“I hope you’re right.” If anything happened to the boy—”I’ve grown to love him more than I imagined possible.”

“It’s pretty obvious.” She remained in the doorway. “Care to join me for tea?”

He draped an arm across her shoulders. “Just like old times?”

She patted his hand. “Buck, I’d just as soon forget about old times, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” They sat across from each other, nursing warm cups of steaming tea. “So who is this Kathleen Sanderson and why is she visiting you?”

Rosie bristled. “What? I’m not fit for the likes of her to cross my threshold?”

He chuckled. “Is that what you think?”

“Sometimes.”

“Guess we’ve both got reason to consider others think that very thing. So who is she and why is she here?”

“Kathleen’s father is the richest man in town.”

A punch of alarm raced up Buck’s spine. Rich men with beautiful daughters were the worst sort. They didn’t want the likes of Buck to even be in the same town. “If her father learns who I am …”

“And who I am.” Her gaze bored into his—angry at his visit to her home. “You should never have come here. You promised you wouldn’t.”

“It’s only for Joey and then I’ll be gone.” He glanced about the house. There were days he wished he didn’t have to keep on the move. But wishing didn’t change the facts. “I’ll do my best to keep our secret from Kathleen. I can think of no reason she’d suspect who I am. Why should anyone be suspicious of your brother visiting? Your married name gives no clue as to who we are.” He didn’t want to think about his past. “Tell me how you met her.”

“The Sandersons live in a big house. Even have a cook and housekeeper. Can you imagine paying someone to clean your house? ‘Course, it’s a mighty big house and dust probably isn’t allowed to settle for even a minute. Someday I’m going to ask Kathleen how many rooms there are.”

Buck sighed. Seemed he was going to get a detailed description of the house before she explained about Kathleen.

She must have guessed at his impatience. “Won’t likely ever see inside the place, now will I?” She shrugged. “Not that it matters. I’m happy enough here, and Kathleen doesn’t seem to mind how small and mean my house is.” She told about Kathleen helping her home one afternoon as she struggled to corral young Mattie. “Since then she visits me, plays with the kids. Even helps with the dishes if they aren’t done when she gets here. Now she says she wants to help me make a quilt for the children.” She rocked her head back and forth. “I just don’t understand why.”

“Have you asked her?”

“I did. All she said was she couldn’t bear the thought of me living on the edge of town with no friends. Though from what she says, I think she’s as lonely as I am. She’d like me to go to church with her but I can’t. If I let myself care about people and what they think, it only hurts the more when they discover the truth.” Her eyes hardened. “Someone is likely to, now that you’re here. Once they realize our father was—” She clamped her lips together as tears swelled in her eyes.

He filled in the blank she’d left. “A murderer.” Saying the word forced him back to reality. “Don’t worry. I won’t be around long enough for anyone to take notice.” Though he wished things could be different. Wished he could offer Joey a real home. Wished he could belong somewhere. With someone. A forbidden dream flashed through his thoughts of home and a woman. He’d had the thought before, and always the woman was faceless. Just a presence. But this time she had a face and voice … those of Kathleen Sanderson. “I will leave as soon as Joey is rested. Before people find out and drive us out of town.” He knew his voice had grown hard. Rosie would understand why. They shared a secret with the power to destroy their lives. He understood why Rosie would be cautious about making friends. A person needed to be able to leave when the time came with no regrets, no glancing back over one’s shoulder.

Yet he rose the next morning wondering if Kathleen would return as she had promised Rosie.

Rosie noticed how many times he glanced out the window and laughed. “She won’t be along for a bit. She never comes until after lunch when her mother is napping.”

“I wasn’t looking for her.”

“Sure you were.”

“Only because I wondered if she would come as she promised.”

Rosie grew serious. “I always wonder the same thing, but every time she’s said she’d come, she has.”

Joey sat at the table spooning in thin porridge. “Buck, who you waiting for?”

He turned away from the window. “Nobody. Just checking the weather.”

Rosie snorted. “She’s not your sort.”

“No one is.” They both knew what he meant, and he sat at the table to consider his two nephews. Sturdy-looking boys. Made Joey look as thin as he was. “Your boys appear well fed.”

“Bill left us with adequate supplies. He’ll send money from time to time. We won’t go hungry.”

“Didn’t think we were, either.”

“I not hungry.” Joey put his spoon down as if to prove he only ate because the food was before him.

Buck smiled. He appreciated Joey’s devotion, but not to the extent of him choosing to go hungry. “Finish it up.”

Joey hesitated only a moment before returning his attention to the food.

Rosie stood beside Buck. “He seems a little better today.”

“I hope so.”

But an hour later, after playing with Mattie and Junior, Joey curled up on the floor, exhausted. Buck carried him to bed and sat at his side, watching him. Surely he would regain his strength in a day or two and they could move on. But to where? And what did it matter? One place was the same as the next.

Joey slept through a lunch of soup and freshly baked bread. He was still asleep when a gentle knock sounded.

Buck sat at the table pretending a great interest in the pencil Junior had given him to sharpen, but every sense tingled with awareness as Kathleen stepped into the house, laughing about the wind tugging at her fine woolen coat. She shrugged out of it and hung it on a nail. “Hello, everyone.” She smiled at Rosie who held Lilly, leaned over and kissed the baby’s cheek, squatted to kiss Mattie’s forehead, hugged Junior and then finally lifted her attention to Buck. “Hello to you, too.”

“You’re a breath of sunshine.” He hadn’t meant to sound so adoring. He only meant she made everyone smile with her greeting.

Her cheeks flushed a very becoming pink, reminding him of summer sunrises. “I’m just passing on my own feelings of happiness.”

Rosie waggled her hand toward Buck. “He meant it as a compliment.” She gave Buck a scolding look. “We’re all glad to have you visit.” Silently she warned Buck not to ruin things for her. As if his very presence wasn’t enough to do that.

“I’m relieved to hear it.” Kathleen glanced about. “Where’s Joey?”

“Still sleeping.” Worry grabbed his gut. “He’s been sleeping a long time.” He rushed into the bedroom, pressed his hand to the boy’s forehead, but even without feeling his hot skin he knew the boy was again fevered. “I hoped he was getting better.”

Rosie brought in a basin of water, and both women hovered at the bedside while Buck stripped the boy to the waist and sponged him.

“I don’t think this is a good sign,” Rosie murmured. “Fevers that return every day generally mean something like lung fever.”

“No.” Buck wouldn’t allow it. “He’s just run down. He’ll be fine.”

“Let’s pray for God to strengthen his little body.” Kathleen reached for Rosie’s hand.

Buck understood Rosie’s hesitation. Hadn’t their ma prayed for God to intervene? It hadn’t happened. Instead she’d died, and he and Rosie had been on their own. But for Joey, his son, he’d storm the gates of heaven if he must. He reached for Kathleen’s hand, saw her start with surprise and likely shock, and he pulled back. But she reached out and clasped his hand on one side and Rosie’s on the other. From her flowed confidence and faith that poured into his heart. God could heal his boy. He knew it. He believed it. He bowed his head.

“Dear Heavenly Father.” Kathleen’s voice rang with love and joy. “You love us so much. You are the great healer. Touch Joey. Stop the fever. Show us what part we need to play, that Your name might be glorified. Amen.”

He pulled his hand to his knee, kept his head tilted down. He’d never heard such a simple prayer, and yet he felt he had stepped into the throne room of God.

He picked up the wet cloth and continued to sponge Joey. But no longer did his spirit fret.

The fever slowly abated as it had done before. He almost dared believe this might be the last time.

Joey opened his eyes and smiled. “Hi, Buck.”

“Hi, buddy. How you feeling?”

“Maybe a little hungry.”

Buck’s laugher was joined by Rosie’s and Kathleen’s. “Surely he’s on the mend.” He turned and gripped Kathleen’s shoulder. “Thanks to you.”

“No.” She shook her head. “Thanks to God.” Her look of assurance filled him with a sense of wonder. God actually might care about him. Amazing. Or was it only Joey God cared about?

It was a question he didn’t care to answer at the moment.