On Her Way Home (13 page)

Eyeing Mac coolly, she said, “I see.” Disdain streaming from her tense body.

Mac puzzled over her tepid response. What exactly did she “see”? Her face scrunched in haughty repulsion, as she berated him with her eyes. Mac snorted in derision, it slowly dawning on him that Jo thought he’d fathered Sam out of wedlock. Her opinion of him was even lower than he’d imagined. Angry at her quick assessment that he was some kind of shady womanizer, he narrowed his eyes, “What exactly is it that you think you ‘see’?” he demanded brusquely.

Jo wasn’t fooled by his offended attitude, and she wasn’t about to be intimidated. Straightening her spine and tossing her head back, she quipped, “Only what I expected.”

That set Mac off. She didn’t know him, Miss High and Mighty, prim and proper, accusing him of being a debauching rake.
Let her think what she wants,
scorned Mac. He knew the truth.

He violently shoved a board up to the post, clobbering the nails in with one angry strike. He seized another board as she stood with her back straight and her nose in the air. He loathed uppity, proud women. Mac wanted to take her down a peg or two. Still boiling, he tossed the board back into the dirt, deciding to act the part she’d cast him in.

Taking one long stride, he pressed her against the fence with his body, effectively trapping her between his thick arms. His icy pupils boring into her, he whispered huskily, “Tell me…exactly what expectations did you have? I’d be happy to accommodate.”

Stunned by his proximity and the feel of him pressed up to her, Jo momentarily froze. As his crude, suggestive words registered, she angrily shoved his arm off the fence, freeing herself from the unwanted contact. “I’m not interested
,” she seethed.

Mac followed her with his mocking eyes, cognizant of the pink climbing up her neck. “Liar,” he accused.

Unsure of how the conversation had curdled so fast, Jo whirled around escaping to the field, with heat pulsing through her body. She was going in the wrong direction, but unwilling to turn and face Mac, she continued on, crossing the field and into the tree line. Ten feet into the trees, she plopped herself down on the ground and rested her back up against a tall pine. The exchange with Mac played in her mind, causing her cheeks to burn as she remembered his predatory eyes. She’d started by politely asking him about Sam, and the next minute he was acidly mocking her. This constant sparring with Mac was draining her. It was still early in the morning, and she had work to do. She couldn’t hide from him in the trees all day, as she did as a child when she was fleeing from her rascally brothers. Returning to the corral was going to be embarrassing, to say the least, and excruciating to say the most. Jo formulated a plan to keep her distance from Mac. Admitting to herself that he wasn’t her only foe, she also had her own traitorous body to contend with.

Tipping her head up, she watched the branches above her sway back and forth in the wind, their heavy green boughs hypnotizing her. Mentally restarting the day, Jo stood and brushed the pine needles from her backside, then marched bravely back across the field.

Her return to the corral wasn’t nearly as triumphant as she had expected. By the time she had collected herself and walked back, Mac was nowhere in sight. Relieved, she continued on with the fencing by herself until Leif and Sam returned from the barn to help her.

Leif propped Sam up on the wagon, and for the rest of the morning Sam entertained them with questions and fetched nails. Later when they all sat down to lunch, Jo put her plan to avoid Mac into practice, finding it to be easier than she imagined. Sam led the conversation, talking about the horses, what kind of cookies he liked best, and all about the surprise Leif had shown him in the barn. The surprise was the tractor, and he promised Sam that after lunch he would take him out and they would cut the hay together. Sam reminded everyone at the table three times that “I’m gonna drive the tractor. Uncle Leif said so.” Jo became so focused on Sam and naming all the different kinds of cookies for him, that she forgot to be guarded around Mac; in fact, she forgot about Mac entirely.

After lunch Jo walked out to the barn with Leif, Sam, and Mac, anxious to see his little eyes light up when the tractor chugged into the field. Leif backed the tractor out of the barn, setting it to idle, then hopped down and strode toward the three of them.

“Well, Sam-man, are you ready to cut some hay?” he asked, crouching down next to Sam, who had been admiring the tractor with wide eyes. Sam’s blonde head bobbed up and down in the affirmative, and he charged toward the tractor.

Mac quickly caught him by the back of his shirt, warning, “Hold on there a sec, Sam.” Squatting down and looking him directly in the eye, he cautioned sternly, “The tractor is not a toy. It’s dangerous. You don’t go running to it or playing on it by yourself. You wait for Uncle Leif.”

Sam’s bottom lip quivered as he looked seriously at Mac.

Holding onto his shoulders with his big hands, Mac said, “Do you understand me, Sam?”

Meeting Mac’s stern eyes, Sam timidly nodded his head, replying, “Uh-huh.”

Squeezing Sam’s tiny shoulders and waggling his eyebrows up and down, Mac said, “All right then, go cut me some hay.” Sam’s smile split across his face at his Pa’s silliness.

Rising to his full height and locking eyes with Leif, Mac sent a parental wa
rning of caution to him. Leif returned the look with a slight bob of his head, letting Mac know he would be careful and keep Sam safe.

Just as he was about to climb up on the tractor, Sam turned toward Jo with concerned eyes. Galloping back to her, he said, “Don’t you want to ride the tractor too?”

Jo bent over to talk to him. “It does look like fun.”

Sam looked at the tractor forlornly and then let out a massive sigh from his tiny body and slumped his shoulders. He turned torn, buttery eyes back to Jo. “You can ride the tractor.”

Jo’s heart melted as she realized that Sam was concerned she wouldn’t get to have the fun he was about to. She almost never saw that kind of thoughtfulness in children his age. Warmed, she hugged him close and said, “Oh Sam, thank you for thinking of me. That’s so thoughtful of you, but you know what I really want?” She waited, letting him catch up with her question. “What I really want is to see you ride it,” she said excitedly with emphasis. Sam’s happy face returned with Jo’s declaration, and he turned toward Leif to be picked up.

Leif tickled his chest. “Don’t worry, buddy, I’ll take Jo for a ride later. You’ve got to try it out for her first though.”

Happy again, Sam climbed up on the tractor with Leif. As Leif drove the tractor past Mac and Jo, he slowed to say flirtatiously to her, “Don’t forget,”— he patted his lap—“I’m taking you for a ride next.”

Jo laughed. “What a hopeless flirt you are,” she accused.

Leif cocked his head at her. “Hopeless?” he questioned, chugging off with a grin.

Chapter Sixteen

On Sunday morning, Jo was in the parlor, eyeing the pictures on the large fireplace mantle. One showed a much younger Kirby wearing chaps and a large Stetson, sitting on horseback. Traveling down the mantle, she saw another photograph of Mattie and Kirby with a sod house behind them. Next to it was an older photo with bent edges. A young thin woman with beautiful piercing eyes stared at Jo from the photo. She recognized those eyes.
This must be Mac and Leif’s mother
. She was gorgeous, posing for the photograph in a long lacy dress, leaning against a low sweeping limb of a willow tree.

Continuing on, Jo picked up a picture of two little boys in knickers and suspenders. Slight grins played on their faces appearing as if they were planning something mischievous. She studied the picture of Mac. Sam must resemble his mother, whoever she was, wherever she was, because he was the complete opposite of Mac. Mac was dark and hard, and glittering. Sam was light and wiry, and warm as butterscotch.

Jo loved her new little friend. Normally, children were cautious of strangers, at least initially, but Sam had surprised her with his precocious and unguarded nature. He was easy to love, and Jo had swarms of love to offer. His company was still creating a welcome distraction for her, and over the last few days, Jo’s plan to distance herself from Mac had worked. It also helped that Jo, Charlie, and Leif had been staying closer to the homestead while Mac and Kirby rode off each morning to lure in as many cows as they could with molasses grain. Tomorrow the five of them would start the official roundup, heading high up on the mountain bordering Mac’s acreage, to work the cattle. Kirby and Leif had mentioned last night that they would be sleeping under the open sky for four or five nights. To say Jo was nervous about this was an understatement, especially when Kirby also casually mentioned that he hoped throwing out molasses grain would round up only cows this year and not bears. The comment had alarmed Jo, but wild animals weren’t her only reservation. She was also anxious about herding the cows, about where she would sleep, and about spending an entire week under Mac’s cynical eye. She still felt heat rising in her cheeks each time she recalled their exchange from the other day. Jo had to admit though that Mac, despite all his flaws, his callousness and indiscretions, appeared to be a decent father. The first thing he did each night after brushing down General was seek out Sam. Last night as the sun spilled its last rays of the day, she’d spied him playing in the field, arms stretched wide like an aeroplane, with Sam perched astride his strong shoulders. The image had touched her heart, cementing itself in the same spot as the glorious vistas from her train ride west. As she’d watched them, Mattie had stepped out onto the porch, slipped her arm around Jo’s back, and the two of them had admired the beautiful view together.

Jo set the picture of Leif and Mac back on the mantle. Today was Sunday, so the occupants of the household had taken the day off from work and were finding ways to relax around the ranch. Jo had strolled into the parlor this morning, planning to read a book, when she was sidetracked by the pictures on the mantle. Recalling her purpose for being there, she chose a novel from the shelf and curled up on the sofa. Jo flipped to the middle of the book, scanning over the pages. She never judged a book by its cover; instead she would read a few pages from the middle and then decide if she wanted to read the whole novel. Jo tried to focus on the story, but she felt cooped up. Hearing Mattie in the kitchen, she placed the book back on the shelf for another day and went to join her.

Jo found Mattie seated at the table, peeling hard-boiled eggs for a potato salad. Taking a chair next to her, Jo picked up an egg and gently knocked it on the side of the table to crack it. Carefully peeling away the shell, she and Mattie talked over plans for the garden. When Mattie and Kirby had gone to Whitefish the other day to fetch Sam home, she had also brought home seeds. Together Jo and Mattie had mapped out a design for the garden. It was a little late in the year, but tonight they would plant the seeds, and hopefully there would be enough time for them to grow. Jo was excited to get her hands in the rich soil Leif had plowed up for them at the back of the house. Gardening was the other female pursuit she had acquired, along with baking.

When the salad was chilling in the icebox, Jo whipped up a batch of strawberry thumbprint cookies and was just taking the last pan out of the oven when Sam and Charlie loped into the kitchen. Charlie tossed Sam up onto the counter, Sam’s short legs dangling over the edge as they both smiled hopefully at Jo. She gave Sam a cookie and handed four to Charlie along with a big glass of milk. In just a few weeks on the ranch, Charlie already appeared larger and more muscled. Jo imagined that when school started up in the fall, there would be plenty of heartsick girls.

Downing a cookie in one bite, Charlie said to Jo, “Leif and Mac are talking about going for a Sunday drive this afternoon and maybe taking a picnic. You’ll come with us, won’t you?” A Sunday drive sounded wonderful to Jo. She’d been sheltered on the ranch for the last two weeks, and although it was beautiful here, she did have a hankering to do some exploring.

“I think a drive would be a wonderful way to spend the day,” Jo replied as she cleaned the jam off Sam’s face with a wet dishcloth. With one cookie he had somehow managed to get the gooey jam all the way up to his hair line. Not wanting to intrude on an outing she wasn’t invited to join, Jo said nothing more, deciding to wait for either Leif or Mac to include her.

As Jo was cleaning up Sam’s jam mess from the second cookie he had stolen off the counter, she heard the back door open and Mac and Leif come in. They both headed straight for the cookies, playfully elbowing each other out of the way, so they could be the first one to the counter. Sam’s presence back at the ranch seemed to bring out Mac’s suppressed playful side. These little glimpses of whom he was concealing tugged at Jo, and frequently she had to remind herself that Mac’s moral attributes were lacking, so as not to admire him.

Mac scooped up a handful of cookies and leaned against the cupboard next to Sam. “It looks like you had yourself a treat already,” he said as he dabbed a bit of jam Jo had missed from Sam’s cheek, popping a cookie in his mouth.

After Jo wiped Sam down a third time, he piped up, “Jo, can we take some cookies on our picnic?”

“You sure can. I’ll pack you some up,” she replied, moving toward the cupboard to retrieve a paper bag.

“You’re coming too, aren’t you?” Sam questioned.

Jo felt awkward, reluctant to invite herself. She turned toward the sink, pretending not to hear Sam’s question until she could think of an answer. Desperately wanting to go, but positive that Mac would feel differently, she held her tongue. They hadn’t spoken since their encounter the other day when Mac had lewdly propositioned her.

Leif decided the matter for her, decisively saying, “Absolutely Jo’s coming. It wouldn’t be any fun without her!”

Jo smiled gratefully at Leif, thankful once again for his efforts in noticing and alleviating her awkwardness. She truly admired Leif’s ability to read people and their needs. Over the past few weeks, she’d been the recipient of his thoughtful consideration many times; his friendship was becoming increasingly dear to her. Wiping her hands on her apron, she turned back to the group, reluctantly meeting Mac’s eyes. He didn’t appear to be annoyed that she was tagging along.

Mac saw Jo’s eyes move to him, sighting the worry in them, as if she expected him to deny her invitation or refuse to let her come along.
She must think I’m a real brute
, Mac thought to himself. He’d noticed her avoidance of him over the last few days: leaving the room when he entered it, making eye contact with everyone except him, sending messages through others instead of speaking with him directly. It was getting downright irritating. He wished he’d never pressed her up against that fence. If he was honest with himself, that little experiment had completely backfired. He’d seen the pink creeping up her neck, but it was his own reaction that had alarmed him. After she’d stormed across the field, he’d spent ten minutes trying to calm himself down and erase the feel of her body from his memory; even then, he was only able to master it after dunking himself in the river.

Mac was still indignant over her disparaging assumptions and had been carefully watching her, cautious that she would snub Sam or treat him with the same disdain
she’d shown him. He was so fearful of this that he had sought her out that night to clear up the misunderstanding and correct her faulty conclusions. When he’d found her, she was curled up on the sofa, Sam snuggled in her arms as she was animatedly reading a book to him. Mac had quietly observed them from the doorway, quickly realizing that his anxiety over Sam was unfounded. Not only was Jo not snubbing him, she was seeking him out, showing him, as it seemed to Mac, even more attention and affection. Again, Jo had surprised him. Even her simple deeds, like washing the jam from his son’s face, stirred uninvited feelings in him.

Excited about the picnic and anxious to get going, Jo offered to pack a picnic lunch for everyone. As she bustled around in the kitchen, Mattie came in to help her. “Are you and Kirby coming too?” Jo asked hopefully.

“Oh, I don’t think so. Once all of you young ones clear out, we will probably spend the day napping,” Mattie teased.

Jo didn’t believe her for one minute. In the short time she’d been here, she hadn’t seen Mattie nap or take a break whatsoever. She was always busy, always moving, never idle. Even when they visited on the porch in the evenings, Mattie’s hand were never still, quilting, crocheting, or darning.

“What should we pack?” Jo wondered aloud.

Mattie answered her question, scooping out a portion of potato salad for herself and Kirby. She handed the bowl to Jo, saying, “Let’s start with this.” She and Mattie quickly added cold fried chicken, apples, corn muffins, and the remainder of Jo’s thumbprint cookies to the basket.

After lunch was packed, Jo raced to her room. Dashing up the stairs and rounding the hall corner, she smacked directly into Mac’s hard chest. He swiftly caught her before she toppled over, grabbing her upper arms with both of his hands.

His rough hands along the smooth skin at the back of her arms flustered Jo, and she awkwardly apologized, “Oh, excuse me.” Mac released his grip, and Jo shuffled past him into her room, silently closing the door. She would never grow accustom to sharing a tight hallway with a man Mac’s size.

A half hour later Jo was waiting on the front porch as Sam hopped around her excitedly. Kirby had taken the time to staple a flour sack to a stick for Sam to use as a fishing net. He was happily dancing around her, proud of his new toy. Jo leaned back against a solid white column on the front porch, taking in the moment. Deciding it would be nice to wear a dress today, she had chosen a silk blue shift dress with a dainty pleated drop waist and delicate sheer cap sleeves. The color was soft as clouds against the tan of her arms and neck. The dress ruffled about her knees, allowing the cool air to flow around her legs which felt wonderful to Jo after so many days in heavy dungarees. Loose caramel waves slipped from Jo’s bun and snuck out beneath her straw cloche hat.

“Aren’t you the picture of summer sky?” Leif admired, stepping out onto the porch with Mac behind him.

The sight of Jo leaning lazily against the post, with her dark honeyed hair and soft pink lips, took Mac’s breath away. He watched as a charming blush blew across her cheeks, like the sun setting pink in the sky. Rankled that Leif’s comment was the cause of her becoming blush, he tore his eyes away from Jo, grabbed the picnic basket, and stalked to the truck. Leif’s flirting was getting out of hand. Lately, it seemed he didn’t string two words together unless it was to pester Jo. Mac couldn’t understand why she wasn’t sick of it already; he certainly was. He put the picnic basket and his fishing rod in the bed of the truck, then turned as Charlie, Leif, Jo, and Sam approached.

Sam ran to Mac’s long legs, wrapping his arms around the solid limbs. “I want to ride in the back.”

Mac wasn’t too keen on the idea until Charlie promised to sit right next to him and keep him safe. Finally agreeing to it, Mac issued a stern warning to Sam that he was to sit on his bottom the whole way, and his serious expression spoke of the consequences that would follow if there be any disobedience. Mac’s firm unflinching face reminded Jo of her father, and she almost felt a compulsion to sit down as well.

Sam nodded his agreement to the conditions, and Mac swung him up into the back of the truck with Charlie, then walked to the driver’s side door and climbed into the cab. Leif held the door open for Jo, as she fought the urge to climb in the back with Sam and Charlie. Supposing Leif wouldn’t welcome the idea of snuggling next to his brother in the middle of the seat, she reluctantly scooted in, wishing she’d thought this driving arrangement through.

As she slid across the seat, she tried to leave a sliver of space between her and Mac, but as Leif swung in beside her and closed the door, Jo was smashed up closely to Mac. With no room for their wide shoulders, Jo was pinned to the seat with Mac’s and Leif’s arms resting over her. Frantically reminding herself to breathe, she tried to act like the closeness in the cab didn’t bother her.

Mac reached down to shift the truck into gear and his right leg, which was already plastered to Jo, inadvertently shimmied her dress higher up her leg, revealing her thigh. Scorching with embarrassment, Jo fought her arm free and pulled it back down, but not before she’d caught Mac’s downward glance.