Chapter 2 #2
He regretted saying it and mentally castigated himself for stooping so low to get one over on his immature cousins.
It was almost worth it, though, to hear dead silence behind him for a change.
He turned around and strode off before the questions began.
He had no desire to explain Whitney, and hopefully, his cousins would brush it off as wishful thinking. Not that he was competing with them.
Whitney was a secret that had crept into his mind uninvited.
The simple truth was—he was highly attracted to her.
Her situation was dire, and he knew he needed to do something, but his instincts were against notifying the sheriff.
He completely understood why she was doing what she was doing—he’d feel the same if he were in her shoes.
However, there was no way she could stay in that cabin all winter with those two small children in her care.
His protective instincts wouldn’t allow it, but the girl was far too independent and as stubborn as a Missouri mule.
Tomorrow, he’d get it all sorted out, but right now he had work to do.
At dinner that night with his mother and his sister, Mac still hadn’t decided what to do for sure. Even the steak in front of him wasn’t appealing as he mulled the situation over.
“What’s on your mind, son?” Caroline asked curiously.
His sister Adaline scoffed. “Probably the poacher he caught today, Mom. Andy said it was a girl, but that can’t be right. There aren’t any girls within miles around here unless you count the...” Her voice trailed off, and her baby blue eyes widened. “Is it one of the Johnson family’s kids?”
Mac’s eyes narrowed. “What do you know about the Johnsons?”
His mother smiled sweetly. “The Johnsons moved into the old Parker place last fall, son. You need to keep up. If you paid attention to the town gossip, you’d know these things.
Daniel Johnson’s wife died this last spring, poor man.
” She tsked with her tongue. “I’ve wondered how they were doing.
I haven’t seen any of them since she died.
I guess they are about as reclusive as you are.
” She pointed her fork at him before spearing a piece of her steak.
“I don’t have time for gossip, nor do I care for it,” he growled back at her. “It’s a total waste of time.”
“And yet here you are, asking questions about the Johnsons,” Adeline purred. “If you don’t want to talk about it, why ask questions?”
Mac snarled impatiently. “I wasn’t the one to bring it up, Adeline. But since you did, I responded.”
She nodded her head, her dark hair up in its bun jiggling slightly, and grinned widely. “And now you know more than you did five minutes ago. See how easy that was to be socially interested in your peers?”
“I know Dad should have taken you to the woodshed more often.” His green eyes shot her a warning glance.
Unfortunately, his mother would never let him spank his sister, even though she needed a lot more of it.
He just hoped his soon-to-be brother-in-law was taking her in hand—someone needed to, the mouthy brat.
“Adeline, stop torturing your brother,” Caroline admonished, but her eyes were twinkling. “And Mac...tell us about your little poacher. Was it one of the Johnson children? They had a boy, as I remember. Is he old enough to be the poacher?”
Subtlety was never his mother's or his sister’s strong suit. Straight out nosy was more like it. He sighed in resignation. “No, it wasn’t Luke, Mother. It was Whitney who was doing the poaching.”
“And how old is Whitney?” Adeline asked curiously.
“Not that it's any of your business, but she’ll be eighteen in a few months,” he replied grudgingly. “And since I’m on the subject of not being here tomorrow...I’ll just tell you that Whitney has some problems she needs help with and I’ll be going up there for Thanksgiving.”
Caroline laid her palm on his big hand. “So, you won’t be attending dinner in town at my sister's place for Thanksgiving?” Her eyes were full of concern.
Mac loved his mom, even though she drove him nuts sometimes.
“No, Mom,” he replied gently. “Just between us, please, Daniel Johnson is away at the moment, working, and Whitney has been taking care of the family. I don’t want the sheriff to know, so please let me handle this.
I’m trying to help Whitney out—for now,” he emphasized.
“But if I’m not back tomorrow night, I don’t want you to worry about me. ”
Caroline’s hand flew to her throat. “Be careful, son. There’s been talk in town of a rogue cougar headed in this general direction.
Tell Whitney to stay out of the woods for a while.
It’s already been sighted above the Bannister area three times, all on a course towards Bolton's upper regions. They say it tried to attack a child in one area.”
Adeline leaned eagerly forward. “So...what does Whitney look like? Is she pretty?”
“Adeline,” Caroline chided.
Adeline tossed her mother an unrepentant look. “What, Mother? You know you are as interested as I am. It’s about time Mac found a woman and settled down. Every girl in town has been waiting for him to take an interest in one of them.”
Mac scraped his chair back. “Just because you’ve found your happy ever after, Adeline, doesn’t mean everyone else has to.
” He walked around behind her chair and popped a kiss on the top of her head.
“I do love you, sis, even though you’re a mouthy brat and way too nosy for your own good.
” Then he kissed his mother on the cheek. “Dawn comes early; I’m turning in.”
As he walked away, he could hear his mother chiding his sister again and had to grin to himself.
His mom wanted him to find a wife; there was no doubt about that.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to—none of the girls in town interested him.
But something about Whitney tugged at his heartstrings.
She sent his protective streak into the red zone.
Mac was a man used to making quick decisions and carrying a load that hadn’t been meant for him to hold so soon. Being responsible for Applewood since his father died, and taking care of his mother and his sister, had become a big responsibility.
Perhaps, if he were honest, he even envied his cousins ' seemingly burden-free lifestyle. They still had a playtime that had been snatched away from him. Not that he would have acted as irresponsibly with girls as they seemed to, but at least he’d have more time to look leisurely around and chat girls up.
There had been one little redhead over in Bannister that had caught his attention, but some other cowboy had snapped her up when he was busy with the ranch. With his limited time, finding a wife would never be easy, but an idea began to unfold in his head—one he was sure Whitney wouldn’t like.
That night, he dreamed of Whitney, seeing her smiling face in the moonlight, her eyes soft and full of promise instead of resentment and stubbornness.
When he woke up, his first thought was of Whitney. Funny enough, he wondered what she looked like with her hair unbraided and flowing through his fingers.
In the kitchen, his mother was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. She smiled when he sat down after pouring himself a cup.
“So, you are off to the Johnson cabin today.”
He nodded and smiled warily back. “Don’t go matchmaking, Mother,” he warned. “I’m just helping the family out.”
She took a sip of her coffee, her eyes twinkling. “Of course. I’m very proud of you for helping out that young girl and her family.”
He was taking a drink of his coffee when her following words had him sputtering it all over the table.
“But I wouldn’t mind if you brought home a daughter-in-law for me.”
He scowled at her and wiped the table with a napkin. “Mother,” he growled.
“Is Mac getting married?” Adeline yelped as she swept into the kitchen on her mother’s last words. “For real?”
He slapped his face and dropped his head into his hands with a groan.
***
THANKSGIVING DAY DAWNED cold and crisper than the day before with light snow flurrying in the air.
Whitney had been up since early morning, preparing the turkey and getting it into the oven of the old cookstove.
She’d kept the stove going all morning with plenty of wood, and now the delicious scent was filling the air, making all their stomachs growl in anticipation.
Too bad they couldn’t afford to keep the electricity on.
The previous owner had updated their home, but even in the 20th century, modern ways had barely reached rural areas like the Ozarks.
Especially the poor, and those who didn’t want to live that way, like her dad.
He preferred the old life and was teaching it to his children.
Learning to live off the land, including what you could grow and hunt for yourself, was how he’d lived all his life.
She scrunched up her forehead, trying to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything for dinner.
Of course, they didn’t have much. She’d used the last of their flour to make bread and a pumpkin pie, a special treat because they were very low on sugar, too.
The pumpkins they had grown in their garden, along with potatoes, peas, green beans, cucumbers, squash, and onions.
Her mom had taught her all about canning and gardening.
She had even canned rabbit, which she had poached from Mac’s property.
Her father had taught her how to fish, and she’d canned some of the fish she caught.
Since Mac had more of everything than they did, she saw no point in stripping their six acres bare of edible animals. Six acres had been all her dad could afford. So, Mac’s seemingly endless acres had provided a lot of food.
It’s too bad he’d found out what she was doing. A few more months, and she could have had it all her way, not having to deal with the man. She’d been trying to stretch the food supply they had until her dad came back—or spring came—whichever happened first.
True, she did feel guilty about stealing, but necessity was a demanding taskmaster. If it had just been her, she wouldn’t have done it, but there was no way she would let Luke and Amelia suffer if she could help it. She’d repent later when they had the opportunity to return to a church.
Sighing, she looked out the window at the overcast sky.
It sure looked like snow. Soon, she would have to make the trip she’d been putting off to get down to Bolton and pick up some supplies like salt and flour from the local grocery store.
It was twelve miles down, though, and she’d have to take their mule, Abraham, to carry things back.
Dad had their only horse, a sorrel named Buck.
She hated to leave Luke and Amelia alone for a whole day, but she didn’t have any choice.
If she waited much longer, it would be too late to go.
As she went to the small bedroom that she shared with Amelia to change into a dress, her thoughts turned to Mac and the spanking he said he owed her.
Her heart beat faster in trepidation as she took the pretty pink dress with a cinched-in waist out of the wardrobe, one that her mother had made.
She only had a few dresses, and all of them had seen better days.
As she took off her shirt and pants and slipped the dress over her head, she wondered if Mac had been serious.
Surely not; he had no right. He wasn’t even a family member.
The only person who had ever spanked or strapped her had been her father.
Mac was a stranger to her, although he had made her pulse race when he touched her yesterday.
Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she liked the way the pink looked on her.
At least it wasn’t threadbare like her panties and bra.
As she brushed her thick blonde hair and braided it with a pink bow, she wondered if Mac might think she was pretty.
She scrunched her nose up at her freckles.
Probably not. Who liked freckles? They were just dots all over your face where the skin should be clear and creamy.
Impatient with herself for even thinking about Mac like that, she looked away from the mirror.
He was going to make things hard on her; she just knew it.
She might even have to leave and take Luke and Amelia with her to get away from him.
There was no way she was going to ask for help in town before her birthday.
She might try to get back to her parents’ families as a last resort, but she didn’t want to. Still, she would do what she had to.
She wondered again when her dad would be back.
Or if he was even coming back? She gnawed on her lip.
What if something bad had happened to him?
It must have, or he would surely have been back by now.
She refused to consider that he might not have wanted to come back.
He’d been heartsick and sore since her mom died, but would that make him forget about his three children?
Walking into the warm kitchen, she sighed and grinned at Amelia and Luke squabbling amiably over their dough figures at the kitchen table. When a polite knock sounded on the door, Luke ran to open it. It was Mac—and her heart rate immediately picked up.
He came in with a burst of cold air, and Amelia threw herself at him, clamoring for him to pick her up. Laughing, he shrugged out of his coat, handed it to Luke with a greeting, and then bent down to pick up the excited little girl.
For an instant, Whitney wondered what it would be like if Mac were her husband coming home to greet her and their own children? Then she brushed the thought aside and remembered that he was the enemy—the threat to their happiness.
She couldn’t help feeling a bit proud as he sniffed the air appreciatively and eyed the hot pumpkin pie. “Hmmmm...someone sure knows how to cook,” he said, looking down at her with a lopsided grin.
Whitney tried to push her animosity aside as they enjoyed dinner together, expressing their appreciation to Mac for the “gift” of the turkey.
Stoically, she put up with the nonsense, hoping to influence him to favor staying.
Though she was on pins and needles, she watched him with resentment.
He didn’t have the right to tell her what to do, but he did have the law on his side, and she couldn’t argue with that.
Still, she fumed, having the feeling that she already knew what he was going to say.
Too bad for him, though.