On Her Way Home (36 page)

Mac and Leif drove in to town to report their findings to Sheriff Waters, and two days later he stopped by notifying Mac that the federal authorities had destroyed the still, but they hadn’t found enough evidence to arrest anyone in conjunction with it. It was unsettling news to Mac. Beating up a man was one thing, but breaking up his moonshine operation was another, and Mac had no doubt in his mind they’d come seeking revenge.

The threat looming over the ranch put Mac in a sour mood, and for the next few days he avoided everyone, riding out early in the morning on General and not coming home until late at night. He was tetchy at meal times, answering all questions with a nod or a growl, and in the evenings he was even a little short-tempered with Sam. Jo tried to coax him from his surly mood, but unfortunately, she was on the list of people he was avoiding.

Almost a week and a half after Mac returned home from the threshing crew, he was in his study speaking with Leif when Jo came in through the back door. Walking down the hallway, she heard them talking. “It’s best if we get those cows moved while we still have the numbers. Charlie’s headed back to town tomorrow, and Jo…well…I don’t know how long she’ll stay on.”

“I expect that depends on you,” Leif mumbled.

Jo stopped at the mention of her name. Mac’s cool voice cut through the room. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded shortly.

“I
mean
you’ve been surly as all get out! If you don’t watch it, she might up and forget she loves you!” Leif bit out. “Oh, don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. Everyone can see what’s between you.”

Jo’s cheeks burned in embarrassment. She should have left, should have turned and walked away right then, but she didn’t; her feet were rooted to the hard wood floors beneath her. Icy tension poured into the hallway from the open doors of the study.

“I swear…if you break her heart, I’ll…” A loud clap from the other side of the wall startled Jo.

“Shut your mouth, Leif!” Mac cut him off viciously. “You
never
should have hired her in the first place! You
never
should have brought her here!” His words whipped harshly into Jo, physically rocking her back with their force.

She heard a chair topple and Leif’s low voice seethe furiously. “You’re a fool. I hope she does move on. You don’t deserve her. Sit on your damn ranch and be miserable for all I care!”

Before she could back away, Leif’s lean body stormed violently around the door frame, and his eyes crashed directly into hers. Jo raised her hands in front of her defensively, begging him to keep back. If Leif spoke, the dam of tears she was holding back would break. She shook her head silently side to side, pleading with him to say nothing. Slowly she backed away, tears pooling in her eyes.

Jo escaped to her room and didn’t come down for supper that night, sending a message down with Sam that she didn’t feel well. The truth was she couldn’t face Mac. She was angry and hurt, and it took preparation to hide that kind of pain. She’d become an expert in the art of Mac, able to tell when he was deceiving and when he wasn’t. When he’d shouted the words, “You never should have hired her,” he’d meant them, and Jo knew it. A light rap sounded on the outside of her door.

“Jo? Are you in there?” It was Mac. Jo was curled up in a blanket on her bed, and she just stared mutely at the door, saying nothing. She didn’t want to see him. “Jo,” his low voice hummed through the door again.

I
nstead of opening it for him, she called from her bed, “What?”

The distant strained timbre of her voice concerned Mac, and he considered opening the door and entering her room uninvited, but stopped himself. “Are you ill?” he asked sharply.

“No,” she answered, but inwardly she scoffed, thinking to herself that she’d never felt so ill in all her life.

“I want to move the cattle tomorrow. Can you be up early?” Mac paused, waiting for her answer, hating that he was having a conversation with a door. As he stood there listening for her answer, panic hit him. It had been his intention all along to create distance between them, but the thought that his attempts had finally been successful chilled him. He reminded himself that it was for the best, and the sooner they got these cattle moved, the better. Everyone could move on. Jo might hurt now, but she’d find happiness. She brought it with her wherever she went.

“Yes.” Jo’s flat answer floated under the door to him.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The cattle drive was quiet and uneventful with each rider silently fighting his own battle. Leif was still boiling angry at Mac, and any words between them were delivered in cool, clipped tones. Charlie was lost in his own thoughts, dejected and miserable because he would be returning to town this afternoon. Mac was restless and nervous, scanning the woods diligently for any threats. He hated the idea that Jo was in danger but needed her to drive the cattle. The inner struggle he was fighting was ripping his insides apart and even though Jo was acting cheerful, he could tell it was a lie, could tell she was hurting. Jo was pleasant on the surface, but her chest felt like there was a tight rope around it, and every time she looked at Mac, it felt like someone pulled it tighter. She had adopted the same casual nothing-is-wrong persona that she’d used after Will had broken her heart. She smiled. She chatted, but the light was absent from her eyes. And Kirby, well, Kirby was Kirby; he bothered no one and expected the same in return.

Mattie was standing at the kitchen sink scrubbing potatoes when she saw the telltale dust of cattle sift through the air. They drove the cattle directly in front of the house to the delight of Sam, who watched with peeled eyes from the front porch. Mac jumped down from his horse and opened the gate. The herd wandered past him, one dumb beast following another, until they were all safely enclosed in the field. Mac fastened the gate behind them, the large metal latch clicking like a clock’s chime, signaling the end of summer. The cows would stay in this rambling pasture and timbered acreage until spring thaw. It had been a good season, and this year would be the first profitable one in beef sales for Mac.

“Well, that’s that,” Kirby said, strolling up to Mac, who was still leaning against the fence, watching the cows slowly spread out over the land. “Cattle have got some meat on them anyway, that’s for sure. If you’d a told me in the spring that we would accomplish this much with a couple of greenhorns, one of ‘em being a woman, I never would have believed it.” Kirby shook his head in amazement. Then slapping Mac on the back, he praised, “Well done, boss.”

Mac watched him walk away and then turned back toward the cows. They were already enjoying their new home, chomping away on the thick dry grass and mooing as if they were complimenting the dish. Mac agreed with Kirby. Jo and Charlie had been a major asset on the ranch this year
. It just goes to show what a man can accomplish who is willing to work
, he thought to himself, catching sight of Jo as she rode into the barn,
or a woman
. Mac watched her with a growing unease settling in his stomach. The moment he’d been dreading all summer had arrived. Leif was set to drive Charlie into town later this afternoon, and then there was Jo. Just thinking her name drove a wedge through his heart.

***

Later that afternoon, Charlie, Jo, and Sam were throwing the ball back and forth in the front yard before Charlie had to leave for town. Mac stepped out on to the front porch while Kirby was rocking away, watching the trio and resting his tired, worn-out body. “It will be too quiet around here without Charlie,” Kirby commented gruffly to Mac. Kirby had grown fond of the boy. He worked as hard as any man, was smart as a whip and a fast learner, and best of all, he didn’t fill up the silence with a bunch of nonsense.

Mac made no reply to his idle comment as he took a seat on the porch stairs and watched them play ball.

Soon the truck engine chortled to life, and Leif drove it around to the front porch, honking the horn for Jo, Charlie, and Sam to clear out of the way. The haphazard family gathered on the front porch, everyone taking turns saying their goodbyes to Charlie. Mattie hugged him tightly, stuffing a brown bag full of cookies into his hands and telling him she expected him for Sunday dinner next weekend. Charlie grinned and assured her he wouldn’t miss it for the world. A buzzer sounded in the house, and Mattie hurried back inside to take the cookies from the oven. Sam gave Charlie a big hug and then ran off to play with the ball again, and Kirby merely extended his hand for a hearty shake.

Jo said nothing. She’d already said her goodbyes to Charlie while he was packing his belongings in the bunkhouse. The farewell had been awkward because Jo didn’t entirely know to what degree she should be sorrowful. Was she saying goodbye to Charlie for only a few days or was it forever? Despite the crushing words she’d overheard Mac say, a tiny spark of hope flickered in the recess of her heart that he would ask her to stay. Since she didn’t know what her plans were yet, she had only hugged Charlie and promised him that she wouldn’t leave for good without coming to see him.

Leif honked the horn, pressuring Charlie to hurry up and get in the car. He hadn’t been to town in forever, and there was someone at the General Store he was anxious to see.

“Charlie,” Mac said, stepping up to him and drawing an envelope out of his back pocket, “I appreciate the hard work you’ve put in on the ranch this year.” Mac handed the envelope to Charlie, who with a puzzled look on his face took a peek inside. Crisp, green bills stared back at him.

“Mr. Hawkins, I don’t want this. You’ve paid me a fair wage already,” Charlie stammered, trying to hand the envelope of money back to Mac.

Mac shoved his hands in his pockets. “Nope, Charlie. It’s yours. You earned it, and I’ll expect to see you back here as soon as school lets out next year.” Mac’s voice was gruff, but his eyes for once were warm.

“Thank you, sir,” Charlie said in awe of Mac’s approval. “I will be!” With that, Charlie hopped into the truck, waved goodbye, and they were gone. Jo watched him go, with a little lump in her throat. Change was never something a person got used to.

When the dust had settled in the road, Mac turned to Jo. “This is for you,” he said, handing her an envelope identical to Charlie’s.

Jo’s eyes met his as she slowly raised her hand and took the envelope from him. As Charlie had done, she barely pulled it open with her thumbs and glanced inside. It was a sizeable bonus, but to Jo it might as well be nothing. It wasn’t what she wanted, and taking it seemed to devalue the experiences she’d had here. It was like he’d put a price on something that to her was invaluable, and in doing so, he’d cheapened it. Mac could tarnish their treasured conversations, cram all of their stolen moments into an envelope full of money, and present it to her with formality, but Jo would not accept it graciously. Her summer on the ranch meant significantly more to her than that. She’d worked and cried and lived and loved here. Jo raised her expressive eyes back up to Mac, searching his face for a sign that their time together had meant something to him too.

Mac’s heart pounded in his chest, but he had to do it. “I’ll be happy to write you a letter of reference…”—Jo’s eyes pooled, but he continued—“if your intention is to keep ranching. Or…of course, like Charlie, you’re welcome back here next year.” Mac added that last bit, trying to soften the blow to Jo, but it had the opposite effect.

He could feel the disapproval jumping off of Kirby directed toward him. Jo’s eyes were swarming and Mac’s heart nearly split in half when she looked at him, her chin beginning to quiver.

Rebelliously holding back the tears, Jo pointed her chin in the air and clamped her jaw down tightly, defying them to spill. “I don’t think I’ll be back,” she choked out. Then holding the envelope up in the air slightly, she thumped it and said, “Thank you.” Mac could hear the derision in her voice. She accepted the bonus as an insult.

Jo turned to Kirby and gave him a slight smile, sad and broken. She didn’t meet Mac’s eyes again, just skirted awkwardly past him and into the house, the screen door slamming shut behind her.

Mac stood on the porch, the same loose stance that was part of his nature, creating a silhouette against the stark whitewashed siding of the house. Kirby was motionless beside him. He watched Jo until she disappeared behind the door, and even after she left, his eyes remained there.

“You know,” he said, his gravelly voice breaking up the silence, “you were practically raised on my ranch. You spent as much time there when you were a boy as you did at your own place.” Kirby stepped next to Mac, tucking his hands under his suspenders. “I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that you and Leif are about as near as I ever got to having sons of my own.”

Mac turned, studying Kirby sharply. Never in his life had Kirby ever referred to him as a son. A heaviness, a sadness, ebbed from the somber old man, who Mac considered to be more of a father to him than his real one.

Soberly, Kirby continued, “In all these years, I’ve never once been ashamed of you.” Rocking back on his heels, his watery old eyes stared out over the field, “Until now.” He looked directly at Mac and nodded his head back toward the house, referencing Jo.

Mac’s mouth opened as if he was going to dispute the claim that he’d treated Jo unfairly.

“Hold on now,” Kirby ordered, raising his hand in the air as he did when Mac was a boy and he was considering talking back. “I’m not telling you who to love, and I’m not saying you shouldn’t let her go, if that’s really what you want. A man knows himself better than anybody.” Kirby’s eyes filled with censure. “But…” he said, “she deserved better than
that
…” His finger twirled in a circle, pointing to the spot where Jo had been standing when Mac had casually dismissed her. “She meant more to this family than that…if not to you…then certainly, at least to him.” Kirby gestured to the side of the barn where Sam was sitting astride a sawhorse, his hand thrown back in the air as he pretended to ride it like a bronco.

A thick lump stung Mac’s throat. Kirby was right. Jo did deserve more than that. She deserved everything. She loved his son like a mother. All the images he’d catalogued over the summer of Jo and Sam together flashed across his mind like a picture show. His mouth opened to exhale, and he bit down on the corner of his lip, trying to keep the longing and the guilt at bay.

Kirby raised his leathery hand and dropped it on Mac’s shoulder in a fatherly way. “
Son
,” he said tenderly, more tenderly than he’d ever spoken to Mac before in his life. “Sometimes…it takes more courage to live than die.” Kirby squeezed Mac’s solid shoulder and looked at him with a strange conviction that Mac had never seen before in his eyes. Then he patted Mac’s shoulder lightly and, with a heavy sigh, followed Jo’s steps into the house.

Kirby’s censure pierced Mac. Their relationship had never been one of outward expression or bouts of praise; that fact alone made Kirby’s words even more damning. It wouldn’t change Mac’s decision, but Kirby was right about one thing; Jo did deserve more. She deserved an explanation. It wouldn’t be easy, but it would be wrong to let her go without even an acknowledgement of what she meant to him.

***

Hours later, Mac was as prepared for the confrontation with Jo as he was going to get, and with a heavy heart he stepped into the barn. Jo was sitting on the stool at the back of the barn milking Shirley. He approached her, but she didn’t even turn in his direction or lift her head to acknowledge his presence.

Jo was a ball of tightly wound nerves. After Mac had “paid” her, she climbed the stairs to her room, set the envelope on the bureau, and then knelt beside her bed and cried into her quilt until it was salty and stiff with tears. Later, she scraped herself together enough to do the evening chores, but she went about them slowly, trying to hold onto all those little bits about her life at the ranch that she cherished. Mac, walking into the barn, hadn’t surprised her. She’d felt this accounting coming for months now, had known it would all begin, or end, like this.

“I tried to keep my distance.” Mac’s deep voice cut through the still barn.

Jo didn’t’ turn to him, but quietly she agreed. “You did.”

The frank admission made Mac cringe. Jo showed no anger toward him; her manner wasn’t defensive. She didn’t accuse him or claim he’d led her on. “Why didn’t you stay away then?” he asked, really begging for an answer.
Why hadn’t she just steered clear of me?
Mac thought to himself, racking his own brain for an answer to his question.
She’d been hurt before. She’d known the risks
.

The milk was coming slow now. Jo stopped what she was doing and swiveled around on the stool to face Mac. She’d come this far; she saw no point in holding back anymore. She wouldn’t hide her feelings, wouldn’t pretend she didn’t love when she did. Jo shrugged her shoulders. “I couldn’t. I love you,” she said with sweet sincerity glowing in her eyes. Jo waited patiently for his reaction.

As usual, she had shocked him with her simple truths. Hearing her say she loved him was at the same time both balm and wound to Mac. “You shouldn’t,” he argued firmly against her declaration.

Jo smiled and turned her palms up in supplication, saying simply, “I do.” And she did; loving him was as natural as breathing.

“Jo,” Mac pleaded with her, “you’re asking too much.”

She shook her head. “No. It’s not more than you can give. Love is a choice, Mac.” She stared at him intently, asking him with her eyes to choose her. “I know you care for me. What is it? What is holding you back?”

Mac turned away from her in frustration. “I can’t do it. I stole his life. I had the mine. The ranch. I
even
have his son.” Mac looked back at her through tormented eyes, the words tearing from his soul. “I can’t have everything, while he has nothing.”