High Country Bride (11 page)

Storm clouds had turned the northeastern sky coal-black and sent a cool wind skittering through the fields.

Aiden pulled up the horses, let the welcome breeze blow against him, and gave thanks for it. That felt good, for he was blistering hot. He’d been pressing hard since he’d gotten back from town, mostly because he had twice the work to do now that Finn was no longer here to pitch in. But the truth was, as long as he was working hard, he didn’t have to think about what had happened in town today. He didn’t want to speculate about how those rumors got started in the first place. He feared that Finn had been drinking and talking up a good story at one of the saloons. Aiden shook his head, remembering the hurt look on Joanna’s face.

Yep, just thinking about it got his guts knotted up and put his chest in a tangle. Too many emotions blew through him and he fought them down. He didn’t like feeling this much. He dragged in a long breath, took off his hat to let the breeze cool his head. Joanna and her kids were coming his way, bringing his supper.

The family was a pretty sight. The little girl was skipping ahead to collect wildflowers. The boy trailed after Joanna, carrying the big water jug. It looked to be pretty heavy for a kid that size, but his jaw was set with determination. In that way the boy was a lot like his ma.

Then Aiden looked at her. At Joanna. With her sunbonnet down and her braids uncoiled from her proper topknot, she was a sight to behold. The wind danced through loose wisps of blond hair that had escaped, and she could have been a ray of sunshine come down to earth for all her innocent beauty.

It wasn’t a puzzle to figure out why she might not want to tie herself to a man like him. He felt like the dark side of sunset as she lifted a hand from the basket handle and waved in greeting.

His hand was up and waving in return before he thought about it. There was that tangle in his chest again, the one he’d do best to ignore. He left the horses to rest and headed toward the creek. By the time he had washed most of the grime off his face and neck, Joanna was there, handing him a small towel from inside the basket.

“I brought pie for dessert, just as you asked.” She hardly looked at him.

“Did you now?” He dried his face with the soft cloth, feeling her distance and his. “I’m real partial to apple pie, too.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I noticed the apples in the orchard are starting to ripen.”

“I’d be mighty obliged.” He folded the towel. “What else do you have in that hamper?”

“Sit down and find out.” She shook out a blanket and let it settle on the creek bank, keeping her back to him as she smoothed away the wrinkles.

Yessir, he reckoned he had her answer to his proposal. He’d seen it in her hurt eyes in town as she sat on that wagon seat, holding the bag of candy out to her children. Being associated with him had brought harm to her reputation. There was no way she was going to accept him now. Why that hurt like a blow, he couldn’t rightly say. He only knew his life was better with her near.

It was her cooking. At least that was the simplest explanation and the only one he would allow himself to think about. He knelt on one corner of the blanket, his mouth watering at the scents coming from the tin containers Joanna was opening. Buttered carrots; must be the first from the garden, since they were so small. Butter melting off the tops of fluffy buttermilk biscuits.

He couldn’t believe all that she had done. “Is that chicken and dumplings?”

“Your ma made a point of telling me all your favorites.” She placed the largest container in front of him, full to the brim. Joanna didn’t look up or acknowledge him as she kept working, setting out the delicious food. “Ida wasn’t even ashamed of herself, as if my cooking would be enough to, well, you know.”

“Hook me?”

She hung her head. “I made something I knew you would like, because of what you did for us today in town. To thank you.”

“I understand.” He wanted her to be clear on that. He didn’t want her to think he believed any part of such nonsense. “You won’t have any more problems at the mercantile. I’ve made sure of that.”

“I know.” She turned pink, as if she was still ashamed.

“It’s a hard thing having folks think the worst of you, I know.” He paused when the little boy made his way up to the blanket, sweat dampening his flyaway hair.

“Here.” Joanna’s son set the jug on the ground. “I reckon you gotta be mighty thirsty.”

“I reckon so.” Aiden couldn’t look at the boy. He wanted to; he just couldn’t. “Thank you kindly.”

“Here.” Now that his hands were free, the kid reached into his trouser pocket and held out something on the flat of his palm. It winked in the sun.

A copper penny. “What’s that for?”

“For the candy.” Such a solemn little boy. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, but you keep the penny.”

“Nah.” The kid shook his head. “Ma always says you gotta pay for what you get or it’s the same as stealing.”

What does a man say to that? “You have a wise ma. Then will you give your penny to your ma for me?”

“Yes, sir.” The boy ambled off to hand over the bit of copper to his mother.

Nice boy. Aiden had to glance away. Joanna’s daughter was at the creek’s edge, reaching out to dip her fingers into the clear, shallow water. It was easy to see that Joanna had an eye on her as she took out a napkin, a fork and the final tin—no doubt holding the fresh piece of pie.

“Looks like a storm is blowing in.” She handed him the knife and fork rolled up in a napkin.

It was hard facing her. Resolutely, Aiden steeled his spine. Last night the darkness had been a safe haven, but in the unforgiving light of this day, she had been able to get a real close look at him. At this man who had offered marriage to her—not a real union, true, but a marriage nonetheless. Last night he had been fairly hopeful, but he knew now that she was going to reject him. After what happened at Lawson’s store, she was going to pack up her things and leave him.

He unrolled the silverware, hoping she couldn’t see—that she would never guess—how lonesome he was going to feel without her.

“I think just north of here is likely to get a hard blow. Maybe some hail,” he said practically. He was, after all, a deeply practical man. “My hay should be safe for tonight.”

“And your wheat, too. You have a fair-size crop.”

“Enough that it’ll be a tussle getting it harvested in a day.” He stared off at the horizon and thought about that storm gathering strength. About the lightning ready to strike. “Finn could have helped with that, but it’s no matter. I’ve got neighbors, and Thad will come help me.”

“You have a good brother in him.”

“That I do.” Thad was good to the core. Dependable. Aiden was blessed to have a brother like him, and he knew it. “I don’t suppose he dropped by word about Finn?”

“No, I would have told you.”

“Yeah, I knew that. I had to ask.”

She nodded with understanding, rising lightly to her feet. “Where did you put the pitchfork?”

“Uh, over against the corner post. Why? What do you need me to do?” He was already rising, but she waved him back.

“No, you stay and eat. You can help me by keeping an eye on the children.” She was already walking away, a pretty willow of a woman in a patched, pink calico dress. “You can join me when you’re done.”

“Done, what?” She was the most puzzling woman. “Joanna, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to start turning the hay.”

“Whoa, there.” Why should she do such a thing? What had given her such a notion? He got to his feet. “The work is too hard for you. Besides, I don’t take to a woman helping me in the fields.”

“Too bad. You will have to get used to it, as these will also be my fields very soon.” She tossed him a small smile as lovely as the wildflowers nodding in the wind. “I’ve decided to marry you.”

“A
re they asleep?” Hours later, Aiden’s voice floated out of the darkness.

“Finally.” Joanna left the shanty door open to the breeze and padded barefoot in his direction. Her muscles ached from the difficult work of turning the mown hay over so it could dry for stacking. She didn’t mind hard labor and she hadn’t minded the company, either.

Grasses tapped against her skirt hem as she made her way through the night shadows. “You were right. The storm is staying north of us.”

“Good thing, or we’d be getting wet about now. It’s a pretty sight from here, though.”

“Yes.” She followed the sound of his voice.

There he was, hunkered on the porch step, as still as the shadows. She eased down beside him. The thick clouds blotted out the sky and glowed with the sparks of lightning. Like black opals, they shone with a dark incandescence.

“I love watching storms,” she confessed, “as long as they are a goodly distance away.”

“Me, too. The lightning has just started.” He nodded toward the far north, where a jagged trail of blue-white light snaked and crackled across the angry clouds. “Have you always like watching storms, or is it a recent inclination?”

“It goes as far back as I can remember. When I was a little girl, my ma would wake me and we would go watch the lightning together.”

“Kind of like this?”

“Exactly like this.” Her voice softened at the memory. Her ma had been a good woman, loving, hardworking and endlessly kind. “When I was James’s age I would rush from one window to another trying to see the next lightning strike through the downpour streaking the glass.”

“I would head out to the barn.”

“I can’t imagine your ma letting her little boy outside in a lightning storm.”

“I wasn’t so small, I guess. Twelve or so, and older. I still do it. I climb up and sit in the haymow. I can see the whole of Angel Valley from up there.”

“And a lot of lightning.”

“A few twisters,” he added. The wind gusted through the grass like an ocean wave. He waited while another streak of light crackled through the clouds in one long bolt. That was quite a sight. And judging by Joanna’s rapt attention, she thought so, too.

His eyes had adjusted to the dark so he could see her against the glow of the clouds. She had a sweet profile with a cute slope of a nose and a daintily cut mouth and chin. The tangle of her golden hair curled over her forehead and framed her face. He remembered how hard she had worked in the field beside him, tirelessly and without one complaint. She had kept one eye on her children while she flipped shank after shank of cut hay, and expertly, too.

“You helped me more in one evening than Finn ever has.” It had taken a chunk of his pride to allow her to work. No, he wasn’t one of those men who believed a woman had her place, but he didn’t think a woman ought to work that hard.

As a boy, he had watched how hard his ma had worked in the fields when Pa had been passed out. She had ruined her health, working herself to the bone. He had helped all he could and that made a difference as he had gotten older. He thanked the Lord he was built for hard labor. By the time he was twelve, he was doing a man’s work in the fields so his ma didn’t have to.

It had been difficult to keep quiet this evening, but he’d done it. Joanna had agreed to marry him. And he hadn’t wanted to give her a reason to change her mind.

“Then your offer still stands?”

“You know it does.” He smiled some. She was humble, and it was endearing. “After that supper and dessert, no man in his right mind would turn you down.”

“At least I have something to offer you in our arrangement. It feels one-sided to me.”

“It’s not, believe me. But your cooking is not why I proposed.” He paused, gathering up his courage. It was hard for him to talk about the things that mattered. “I hope you know I don’t look at you and see all the work you could do around here.”

“Yes, I know that, or I wouldn’t have agreed to marry you.” She sounded young, suddenly, and vulnerable.

He bowed his head. It wasn’t that she was so very young; it was that hardship had worn on him. His existence, numb as the frozen ground at winter, had aged him more than he liked to admit. Hopelessness could do that to a man.

Joanna seemed to understand what he couldn’t say. “I know you need help around the house, and that’s only sensible, as you work hard all day to make a living off this land. But your proposal is a practical solution, too. As are my reasons for accepting.”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat, glad that they had this understanding. “You know I’m not about to follow Finn to the saloon and leave you to bring in the crops.”

“I do. My children are children again. I can’t tell you what it means. James is no longer so worried. Daisy isn’t as clingy.” Joanna looked away, blinking fast.

She was trying not to cry, he realized. “I have an inkling. If the good Lord would have seen fit to make me a pa, I would have moved mountains if I had to if it meant my son would be safe and secure.”

“You mean, those mountains?” She gestured to the west, where the great Rocky Mountains rose up like a fortress out of the prairie floor.

He nodded. Love was a tricky thing. All these years had not diminished what he’d felt for the son he’d never met.

“I believe you, Aiden.” Her understanding mattered. “You would move the entire continental divide rock by rock if you had to.”

“I’m not alone in that kind of determination.” It was why he admired her, not that he was able to tell her that. Joanna had a good heart, and in this world that had to be protected. That was his opinion, at least. “I’ve been thinking some tonight when we were working. That shanty is awful small for the three of you.”

“Aside from my pa’s farmhouse, a shanty is all my children have ever known. We’re snug in there and I’m grateful, Aiden. More than you know.”

“Winter will be here and the shanty won’t be as snug. The main house will be warmer for you and the little ones.”

“I’m not sure our moving into your house is a good idea.” She swiped at the stray curls the wind was blowing into her face. “I figured we would keep things the way they are. I’m satisfied with that.”

“I see.” He nodded as if he understood. “You’re afraid that I’ll be upstairs in that house with you.”

No, I’m afraid for you. She remembered how he had stood in the kitchen that first morning when she had made him breakfast. In her mind’s eye she could still see him with his wide shoulders slumped and his face in his hands. She hurt for him. “This has to be hard for you, Aiden.”

“I will be all right.” His words were firm, but his voice sounded lost.

He would always do right, she realized. It was good to see that some men were really like that. Her spirit ached with hope in all the sad places life had created. “You have done so much for my children. The last thing I want is to cause you pain.”

“Pain is part of living. It lets you know you’re alive. I suppose that’s a good thing.” He rubbed the back of his neck, as if he was thinking, or trying to brush away what was past. “I told you this would be a practical solution, nothing more.”

“That is why I’m agreeing to it.” There were so many assurances she could give him, but she chose the most sensible one. “This is for my children.”

“I know that, Joanna. I’ll make certain they are always fed and sheltered and safe. You have my word on that.”

“I already know that for sure.” Gratitude filled her up until she brimmed with the burn of it. She blinked hard, fighting more than tears. What was she going to do about her feelings for this man? He had her endless devotion for his promise. He broke her heart with his vow, and she understood why. He had not been able to provide for his child, so he would provide for hers.

She swallowed, fighting to get the words out. When they came, they were shaky and thin with emotion. “You have my word that you will never regret marrying me. But I’m worried what certain people will say about you. When we wed, they will think those rumors are true.”

“It’s not my worry what others choose to fill their minds with.” Aiden shrugged away her doubts with a quick movement of his shoulders. “I know the truth. You know the truth. That’s what matters.”

“As long as you’re sure.”

“Absolutely.” He did not pause. “When do you want to have the ceremony?”

“The sooner the better, but you are in the middle of haying.” She stopped to watch another streak of light splinter the endless sky. “I don’t think we should interrupt your work. What if the next storm comes this way? We might regret taking that time to get married.”

“You’re worrying about the hay?”

“I worry about a lot of things, Aiden. How about this? I’ll be ready whenever it is best for you.”

“You are a peculiar woman, Joanna.” He chuckled, and it was a cozy sound, like a warm blanket on a cold winter’s day.

“Peculiar? I don’t like the implications of that. Is this the way it is going to be? You’re going to change into a different man because we’re married?”

“No, no. I’ll always be the same, Joanna. Always have been, always will be.” He shook his head, as if he couldn’t win no matter what he did. “I meant to compliment you. There aren’t many sensible women in this world.”

“That’s what a woman likes to hear from the man she’s about to marry. That she’s sensible.”

“I mean that as a compliment, too. I loved Kate to the depths of my soul, but she was as impractical as the day was long. It took her a good part of five months to plan our wedding.” He chuckled again. “And here you are, willing to get married around my haying schedule.”

“You said this was a practical arrangement.” She was laughing, too. “I could plan a big to-do, but I didn’t suppose that would be fitting or a wise use of time or money.”

“I’m a busy man and I don’t have much money to spare. I appreciate your view, Joanna.”

“Good, then it’s settled.” Soon, she would have the right to care for this man, to repay his kindness and his generosity. She had no wish to put that off. She intended to place him right up there with her children in terms of what she valued. “Are you sure you want me living in your house, Aiden?”

“I’m sure.” And he sounded certain. “How about Sunday after church? We’ll be in town anyhow, so it will save us a trip there.”

“Sounds practical to me.” Maybe it was far from romantic, but that set with her just fine. “I had such high expectations when I got married before. It was as if I was the lightning up there, glittering high above the earth.”

“That’s the problem with love. It’s impractical, and it can’t last.”

“It devastates you when it’s gone.”

They sat in quiet agreement and understanding, the pain of their pasts between them as surely as the cool wind whipping by. Far in the distance the lightning flashed again, growing worse now, streaking the roiling black sky. White-blue cracks of light flared to life and faded.

“Did your work go all right for Noelle?”

“Very well.” She said that with a sigh of relief, as if glad for the change of subject. “Noelle asked me to join her sewing circle.”

“That’s just like her.” It didn’t surprise him a bit. He remembered how his sister-in-law seemed to take to Joanna on Sunday. “You should go.”

“I haven’t made up my mind about it. There’s so much to get done here.”

“It will all get done eventually. You go.” He watched the lightning instead of her. “There’s something else I want you to do.”

“For you? Name it.”

“Tomorrow, head into town and go to Cora Sims’s dress shop. Tell her you need something nice to get married in and to bill me.”

“What? Oh, no, Aiden, I don’t feel right about that.”

He winced. She sounded sincere and stubborn. How did he tell her what he meant? He had no notion how to say it, so he made light of it. “Do you know how mad my ma is going to be at me if you get married in a patched calico work dress?”

“I have a Sunday best dress.”

“I know, and it’s calico, too. And patched.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Her chin went up.

“I’m not saying there is. I want you to have better, Joanna.”

“You do?” Her throat tightened and she turned away.

“You have been struggling alone for a long time, but I want you to know that’s over. You’re not alone anymore.” He meant that. “You go buy yourself a nice dress. It’s what I want.”

He didn’t know how she was going to take to that order, or if she would give him her opinion, as he had already learned she was quick to do. But then he realized her silence was because of something else.

“Thank you, Aiden.” Her voice was thin and vulnerable. She, too, watched the lightning in the distance, but he heard what she didn’t say as a comfortable stillness settled between them.

He did not want a wife. He did not want to marry again. But helping her was the right decision. He could feel it with all the pieces of his soul.

Dread. Remembering her experience with the Law-sons at the mercantile, Joanna was not looking forward to pulling open the dress-shop door and facing another woman from town. But Aiden had asked her to. She couldn’t let him down. When she stood up with him before God and his family, she did not want to embarrass him in her Sunday best calico dress. He was right—even that dress had been patched.