Chapter 10 #2
“Come, I’ll show you where the bedding is.” He led her to the closet across the hall that held not only sheets and blankets but also crates of books and Chet’s old letters and pictures. Carefully ignoring those things, he filled her arms and carried another stack back to the beds.
“Thanks for your help. I truly appreciate it.” Her smile was like sunshine on a blue-sky day. He could get used to seeing it on a daily basis. Whoa. No. That wasn’t going to happen.
“I’ll bring in your other bags.” The house echoed with the sound of his boots striking wood as he descended two steps at a time. Outside, he paused to catch his breath and right his thoughts. His gaze went in the direction of town and the cabin beyond, tucked away in the deep woods.
Laughter and excited barks drew his attention back to the ranch.
At least they had Skip to guard them. Now where had that thought come from?
He kicked it back into hiding, grabbed the hand luggage, and carried it upstairs.
The beds were both made, and Dianne stood at the foot of one, smiling as if the sight pleased her.
He stopped in the doorway to watch. Chet would have enjoyed her company and that of the little boy.
How often had the man stated that all the place needed was a child running up and down the stairs?
“Ain’t that I don’t appreciate your company.
You’re just like a son to me. Someday, I hope you’ll bring in a wife and children. ’Twould be my greatest joy.”
“Something wrong?” Her brow furrowed as she studied him.
“Nope.” He dropped the bags to the floor. “Guess that’s all. Time for me to be on my way.”
“Don’t you need some things out of your room?” Her gaze lowered to his shirt, and she wrinkled her nose. “You don’t want to wear the same clothes for the rest of your life.”
He sniffed at himself. “Guess that wouldn’t be a great idea. Yeah, I’ll gather up a few things.”
They stepped into the hallway. She left him at his doorway and continued downstairs.
The doorknob stared at him. All he had to do was turn it, gather up a shirt or two, another pair of jeans, his spare socks—why was it so hard to do that?
Chet would have told him to get on with it.
Gritting his teeth, he turned the knob and stepped into the room.
He hadn’t been in it since he prepared for the funeral.
He sank to the side of the bed and pressed his face to his palms.
The same thoughts filled his head now as they had at his last visit.
Chet was dead because of Jace’s flash of anger.
Why had he thought hunting a grizzly was so important?
He didn’t need the excitement. Yet it had tugged at him.
Yes, there were times he longed for something more.
Not that he could say what it was. Now, all he wanted was for things to go back to the way they were.
That would never happen.
He pushed to his feet, pulled two shirts off the hooks on the wall, shrugged into one, and then realized he needed something to carry things in. He crossed the hall to the big closet and chose a satchel.
In the hallway, a spicy aroma caught his attention. Saliva flooded his mouth. Smelled like ginger cookies. Was she baking them for him to take when he left?
Another thought replaced that question. Was she trying to tempt him to stay?
Had she not heard him? How could he stay and benefit from Chet’s death when it was his fault?
Back in his room, determinedly ignoring the alluring smell, he tossed things into the bag with no regard for neatness.
He had to get away as fast as he could.
Dianne took the last of the cookies from the oven as Jace’s boots echoed on the stairs. He’d been up there a long time. She considered checking on him, but there were things a person had to deal with on their own.
Living alone on the ranch was not one of those for her.
She took two cookies out to Eddie. The boy had a new friend in Skip. Although it was too early to trust her son to the dog’s watchful care, she suspected she soon would be comfortable doing so.
Coffee was ready. She set two cups on the table along with a plate of cookies.
Jace stepped into view, carrying a bulging satchel with a bit of fabric poking out the latched top. His face set in hard lines.
Stubborn was the word that came to mind. Knowing it would remind him of Chet, she kept the word to herself.
“I had a hankering for cookies. Would you care to join me?” She indicated the table.
He gave her a look that plainly said he guessed she was delaying him. Then he dropped the satchel and went to the table.
“These were my father’s favorite.” Her voice remained calm.
He bit into one. “They’re good. Mind if I take a few when I leave?”
Ignoring his challenge, she nodded. “By all means.”
She let him enjoy a cookie and start on the next before she asked, “Jace, how am I to go to town when I need to?”
“One of the cowboys will take you.”
She dampened her finger to pick up the cookie crumbs on the table. “What cowboys? There’s no one out there.”
“Cal and Lee will be back.”
“Tonight?”
“Maybe tomorrow.” He gulped his coffee as if he had to finish it in one swallow.
“The man you chased off—Al, was it?” She didn’t need his nod to know the answer. “What if he comes back?”
The thump of his cup on the table rattled her own. “Dianne, you are going to have to learn to manage on your own. There’s a handgun on top of the cupboard by the door.”
She slammed her cup down as hard as he slammed his.
“I have never fired a gun.” Nor did she want to.
“I can’t run a ranch. Not that there’s anything to take care of.
There are no cowboys. The barn is gone. I saw a cow.
At least, I think she’s a cow. I don’t know if she’s for milk or not.
Chickens squawked behind the bunkhouse. I suppose someone feeds them and gets their eggs. ”
His eyes narrowed to slits. “Are you telling me you can’t gather the eggs?”
“Jace, I lived in the city. My eggs came from the store.”
He expelled air in exasperation. “Guessing you can’t milk a cow either. Good thing her calf is still with her, or she’d be dried up.”
“Dried up? Would she blow away?”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” He lifted his hands in a gesture of frustration.
“I guess the place is going to fall into rack and ruin. Perhaps you could arrange for supplies to be delivered when you go to town, or we’ll starve.
Oh, wait, the cowboys will take me to town.
The cowboys in the vacant bunkhouse.” Her frustration was at least as great as his, if not ten times greater.
“That is if this Al person doesn’t murder us in our beds.
” There was nothing pretend about the shiver that raced through her.
Jace had taken another cookie, and it crumbled in his fist. “You leave me no choice. I will stay until the boys are back.” He leaned forward, his breath hot against her cheeks. “In that time, you will learn to take care of the chickens and milk the cow.”
“That’s all I’m asking.” For now.
“I’ll move my things to the bunkhouse.”
She rose to follow him, but when she started to protest and ask how that would protect them, he shot her a hard look.
“I can’t stay in the house. I don’t want to be roped into a forced marriage. Skip will sleep on the porch. He’ll alert everyone if there’s an intruder.”
Except Al wasn’t an intruder. Up until a few hours ago, he’d been part of the ranch. She kept the protest to herself.
He stopped at the door and faced her. “As soon as Cal and Lee return, I am leaving. I have a wagon to return. Or have you forgotten?”
“Nope.” But she’d say nothing more at this time. She’d won a little victory. And she’d win the next round, too. Eventually, Jace would accept that he belonged here.
He scowled at her. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I am not going to change my mind. It’s like my pa said.
” His gaze shifted as if he saw something in his past. “Like the day we went to a fair in town. Pa was showing his wheat and hay. Ma entered her cake and bread. I didn’t put in anything, but there was a wild calf riding for those under twelve.
I didn’t ask permission to enter because I knew Pa would say no.
He didn’t believe in taking risks.” A grin that looked more like a grimace crossed his face.
“I was the contest winner. I proved how brave I was.” The way his shoulders sagged informed anyone watching that it hadn’t had the desired result.
Jace scrubbed the back of his neck. “Pa said he expected me to be more responsible. I wasn’t sure what he meant.
Was it because I’d entered the contest or because I did it without their permission?
He said”—Jace swallowed loudly—“‘The reward for a risk should be more than a sack of candy. Otherwise, it was simply puffing up one’s chest like a silly strutting bird.’” His shoulders slumped, and his chest deflated.
“I was still puffing out my chest about the grizzly hunt. I should have listened to Chet.” Before she could respond, he rushed from the house.
She watched him stomp through the ashes of the barn.
What his pa had said about a puffed-out chest didn’t apply to his refusal to stay at the ranch, but it did reveal the depth of guilt over Chet’s death.
As long as he carried that weight of guilt, he was not going to change his mind about staying. Not that she’d given up.
“I will not stay here alone!” Her protest wouldn’t reach him, but the words filled her with courage. Yes, it might be stubborn courage, but it was all she had. That, her cooking, and prayer.