Love Inspired Historical June 2014 Bundle: Lone Star Heiress\The Lawman's Oklahoma Sweetheart\The Gentleman's Bride Search\Family on the Range (74 page)

“It's too soon.” The protest rolled off her tongue before she could stop it. “You'll reopen your wound.”

Lou grunted. “I'll be fine. Someone must be looking for her. James wired the bureau for me days ago, and they think they've found Josie's mom. If not, we'll track down another relative.”

They knew? Even the police hadn't been in touch with her. She slumped down. It was for the best. It had to be.

Movement on the floor startled a gasp out of her.

The blankets reshuffled and out of their haphazard mound popped a blond head. Josie scowled up at Lou. “I'm not going back and you can't make me.”

Chapter Seven

W
hy did the man have to be so stubborn?

Mary's legs itched to pace, but she squelched the urge and forced herself to sit quietly as Lou moved across his living room floor. Only days after Lou had picked her up from the sheriff's and announced that Josie was going home, he insisted he was well enough to travel into Portland.

Truthfully, he'd made it down the stairs on his own, but that did not mean he was fit for travel. She eyed the way he shuffled across the floor, noting the pallid tone of his handsome face because he insisted on venting his frustration by moving about. No, he needed more time to recover.

More important, Josie did not wish to live with her family. Specifically her uncle, who she'd confessed to being the stranger who'd visited. The little girl's alarm fueled Mary's own dismay. Surely a man wanted for the kind of assault he'd dished out on the man in the alley should not have the care of a child. Not to mention the way he'd ogled Mary....

“Did you hear me?” Lou stopped in front of her, a frown on his full lips.

She lifted her gaze to his. “I did not hear.”

His hands sliced through the air in an impatient gesture. “Pack a bag. We're leaving tomorrow morning. If you don't pack, you're not coming. I've received information that reports Josie's mom has returned to Portland.”

“It is a large city,” she said slowly. “Do you suggest we knock on each door?”

Lou grinned, the movement lighting his face and tugging at her heart. Here was the smile she'd missed, the crinkle around his eyes and curve in his cheek. “That, my dear, is taken care of. We've an address, and I already sent a telegram requesting a meeting with the mother.”

She picked at her skirt, unable to bear looking at the triumph splayed across his features. This would be the end, then.

“Mary, aren't you happy?” He dropped down in front of her. She saw the wince that flashed across his face before he masked it. Eyes alight, he peered at her. “She needs her home. Her mother. This place is no good for a child. I'm going to make sure she and her mother are protected.”

He was right, of course. Allowing Josie to stay only fulfilled her desires. A lonely desert with scattered neighbors could not possibly meet a child's need for companionship. She stared down at her hands, which she'd clasped in her lap.

Lou sighed. “I wish you'd talk to me. Communicate.”

“I have nothing to say.”

“Say we're doing the right thing here. That you want to give a mother back her daughter.”

Her head shot up as a bolt of anger darted through her. Her nerve endings tingled with the prickly feeling. “If this mother wants her daughter, why has she not been scouring the countryside for her? Posting pictures and letters? I have seen little evidence that Josie is wanted.”

A gasp came from the front door, followed by pattering feet as the little girl raced away. Mary cringed.

“She needs to stop eavesdropping,” Lou said in a grim voice. He rose very slowly, and Mary could tell he'd fatigued himself.

She wanted to run after Josie but didn't know what she'd say. The truth was, no one but that dreadful man had looked for the little girl. And Mary wanted her to stay. To be family.

Lou was still looking at her, seriousness shadowing his expression. Why did he want Josie gone so bad? Why did he shy away from the little girl and even seem afraid of her at times?

“And if I do not wish to travel with you?” she asked, watching him carefully. “You will be forced to care for Josie yourself. To see to her needs. To be her sole caretaker.”

“If you don't pack, then you won't go. That's all there is to it.” He stood, turning away so she could no longer see his face.

Empathy battled with frustration. She could go with him now, but that would leave Josie in a bad place. The thought of leaving the little girl hurt too much to dwell on. If she refused to go, what could he do to her? Not much, she surmised.

Mind made up, she stood, straightening her skirt with the movement. He shuffled around, shoulders straight despite the obvious pain striking his features.

She leveled her gaze on him, refusing to let him see how horrible she felt that he was in such distress. “I will not go until you can move without pain.”

“That so?” he said quietly. Challenge filled the blueness of his eyes and an unwelcome ping of excitement zipped through her. These weeks together were revealing a side to her nature she hadn't suspected existed. A side that seemed to enjoy his challenges, to revel in tension.

The thought was discomfiting, at best. She returned his stare, even though her stomach roiled and her palms slicked.

After a tense minute of silence, she spoke, her voice clear and even, much to her relief. “I must find Josie. She should not have heard our conversation.” It hurt to think her words had caused Josie pain. She, who tried so hard to be quiet and speak wisely, had been undone by her unreasonable, blasé employer.

“I'm coming with.”

She swished forward. “You can hardly walk. Lie down and recover if you wish to return Josie.”

“That girl's leaving tomorrow.” As Mary passed, Lou reached out and gripped her arm. His touch imprinted her skin with heat.

“Why do you care so much? She's just a little girl.” Slowly, she removed her arm, amazed she felt no fear at his handling but rather wary at what she did feel: a nervous tension that had nothing to do with fear.

“This place isn't safe for her.” He gave her his profile.

“So you've said, but why? It is unlikely that man would think she's here.” She studied the stubborn line of his nose, the shape of his square, unyielding jaw. Somewhere a little girl cried for a home she'd lost, and here she stood, interrogating a man who didn't seem to care.

Annoyed at herself, she let out a huff. “Never mind. It's obvious I'm not the only one who has trouble communicating.”

Aiming that last comment at the doorway, she stalked out of the sitting room and then hurried down the hallway. James was rocking on the front porch when she burst out the door. An uppity wind brushed past, tangling her skirt and hair in its wake.

“Have you seen Josie?”

“Went thataway.” He pointed in the direction of Trevor's house. Her home.

“Thank you.” She darted off the porch and ran to the house. Halfway there, she had to stop and gasp for air. This was her fault. Maybe Lou was right. Maybe Josie needed to be with her mother. Perhaps there was a reason the woman hadn't searched for her daughter. Josie had mentioned illness.

Then again, some mothers, for one reason or another, couldn't expend the energy to find their children.

She frowned and kept walking, trying to ignore the whispery accusation toward her own mother who'd dropped her off with Trevor's mom at the age of twelve and never looked back. Not until it was too late and the emotional damage had been done.

Her breath hitched. Taking a moment to inhale and exhale, to remember God and how He'd protected her, was not only good for the lungs but good for the soul.

As she inhaled the cleansing scents of pine, sage and desert brush, her pulse slowed and her vision sharpened on the little house that grew larger as she drew near. A curtain flickered in the window.

Feeling deep chagrin, she kept her legs moving until she'd reached the door. Opening it, she stepped into the house. The living room smelled like cookies. Sugar cookies. Tinged with the underlying aroma of wood floor polish. A comforting welcome.

“Josie?” She shut the door behind her. “Sweetie, please come talk to me.”

“I don't want to talk.” Her mulish voice drifted from the sofa. A blanket covered a misshapen lump but didn't quite reach the stockinged foot peeking from beneath its edge. “I'm going to run away.”

Unsure, Mary stayed rooted near the door. Should she take the girl to task for talking in such a way? Or should she go hug her...? Indecision was a heavy coat she couldn't seem to shrug off, so she just stood there, kneading her fingers against her skirt.

If only she owned an instruction manual for parenting.

Finally, Josie flipped the blanket off. Her blond curls stood at attention, static fuzzing them up into a rat's nest. An unruly giggle snickered past Mary's lips.

Josie's eyes narrowed. “Go away.”

“This is my home.”

“Then I'll go.” Huffing, she threw the blanket to the floor and gave Mary such an ugly glare that another laugh sprinkled out from somewhere.

“You're laughing.” If possible, the glare turned uglier.

“Oh, honey, I was worried.” Instinctually, she dropped to her knees and held out her arms. “I'm so glad you're okay.”

“But no one wants me, so what do you care?”

“When I was a young girl, no one wanted me, either.” The confession came unbidden. “It is a lonely, horrible feeling to be unwanted.”

Josie eyed her arms and Mary held her breath.

Slowly the girl walked over. “Why didn't anyone want you?”

“I was inconvenient.”

“What's that mean?” She settled on Mary's lap, the child's warm weight shooting giddiness to a place in her heart that had been neglected far too long.

“It means I wasn't easy,” she said against the aroma of Josie's hair. “I want you, sweet girl. Raising a child is hard work. But it's also wonderful joy. I was very blessed that God sent me a friend when I was a wee bit older than you, and He showed me I was loved.” Trevor had been family for a long time. Despite her loneliness, she prayed he and Gracie were enjoying their trip to California.

Josie snuggled beneath Mary's chin, her arms rounding Mary's back as she pressed closer.

“No one is inconvenient to God,” Mary murmured. “He loves you so much and no matter what happens, you must know that He wants you. I will pray God sends you a friend, sweetie.”

The girl wiggled, pulled back and met her gaze. “Will you pray he sends me a family?”

* * *

“Made it down the stairs, I see.” James hovered in the sitting room doorway, chewing a stem of unfortunate grass. “You still ain't fit for travel.”

Lou sighed, his recent talk with Mary bothering him too much to let him care what James said. The hand knew his medicine, and no doubt the man was right. “Looks like we'll be waiting one more week.”

“Sounds good.” James came into the room and plopped down on a couch, the grass twisting between his teeth. “Miss Alma cornered me in town this morning.”

The huff James emitted coaxed a grin to Lou's mouth. “Don't tell me you don't like her attentions, old man.”

“The woman smells good, it's true, but she's plain nosy. Always trying to ask me over for lunch, or worse, to visit that little church she and Horn got going.”

“She give you any food this morning?” He was feeling a bit hungry and it might be a good distraction from the memory of how Mary had felt when he'd grabbed her arm. Warm. Fragile.

“It's in the icebox.” James interrupted his meanderings.

“You mean the refrigerator?”

“Whatever you youngsters call that newfangled contraption.” James's completely white whiskers twitched on the word
contraption.

With a start, Lou realized the ranch hand was getting older. He had at least twenty years on Lou, which meant he must be pushing sixty.

He eyed his employee. “If you need help with ranch duties, let me know. I'll hire on a few extra men.”

“I'm fine. 'Sides, thought you were selling it?”

Startled, Lou glanced at the door before realizing his nonverbal slip.

James cocked a brow. “You didn't tell Mary yet?”

His gape annoyed Lou. “It's not set in stone. She's got her house now, and it shouldn't matter what I do.”

“You're her source of income. And mine, come to think of it.”

“I know.” Lou growled. It was a problem, one he was determined to find a solution to. “The ranch is having a hard time making money. The cooler weather is doing in ranchers all around us. I talked to Doc about you joining on as assistant in Burns since the town is growing so much. He seemed amenable to the idea.”

“It'll be hard to get Mary a job, seeing her skin's dark.”

“The people in Burns are familiar with her. I don't think she'll have trouble, but no matter what, I'll make sure she's taken care of.” Even if he went broke doing so. She deserved the best, and he'd make sure she had it.

“And how about her feelings on the matter? She's uncomfortable around people. Given her history—”

“She'll be fine,” he interrupted. He couldn't escape the subject of his housekeeper no matter where he went, it seemed. “She takes stuff to town all the time. Miss Alma will watch out for her, and I'll take care of the financial end.”

“Speaking of that woman, she's invited Mary to some kind of lady event on Saturday. So's you best stay here till then.” James flashed him a pointed stare before pushing himself out of the seat and heading for the door.

“What time?”

“Noon.”

Great. Another week trapped at the ranch when he could be tracking down his shooter. After returning Josie first, of course. Though he was trying to draw that out until he heard a little more about her family. No matter how uncomfortable she made him, no way would he put her in a dangerous situation.

He shook his head, got to his feet. He didn't want to think about Josie or Mary. He just wanted to return to the way life was before.

Simple.

He headed to the door, feeling weak but not dizzy. The fact that his legs carried him to the hallway without buckling was reason to say thanks to the Creator...if they were on speaking terms.

And they weren't. Mary could keep her God for all he cared.

The God he used to serve...

He slowed near the stairs, breathing heavier than he'd like. Maybe he'd rest a bit on the porch. Get some sunlight and fresh air. Take his mind off matters too weighty for a beautiful summer day.