Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Jace grinned at Eddie who clung to him and looked up with big adoring eyes.
“I used to take my little sisters for walks.” Now why had he said that? It caused his throat to tighten and the back of his nose to sting.
Dianne patted Eddie’s head before she brought her gaze to Jace. It was full of warmth and…love? Love for her son which was to be expected.
He cleared his throat and looked away. No need for him to continually hear Chet’s voice reminding him of how pleasant it would be to have a pretty young thing and children on the place.
With the barn gone, the cow and calf had been moved to a shed where they normally stored hay. Someone—he guessed Cal or Lee—had fixed up a pen for her and on the other side, a smaller one for the calf who currently was getting his supper of milk.
They waited at the fence until the calf finished.
She hugged her arms around herself. “Am I stealing milk from the calf?”
“He eats hay and grain as well. I’ll show you.” At the calf pen, he showed her how to put out feed and fill the trough with water.
Eddie ran ahead as they returned to the bigger pen where he hung on the fence.
“Son, get down. It’s not safe.”
“They won’t hurt him.” From the look on her face, Jace hadn’t convinced her. “They’re as gentle as Skip.”
“Are you sure?”
He snorted. “Would I say otherwise?”
“Of course not.”
The calf trotted over and pressed his nose to Skip’s, bringing a burst of laughter from Eddie.
“Mama, they kissed.”
“They said hello. They’re friends.” Jace opened the gate and waved Dianne forward.
She hesitated, her gaze bouncing back and forth between the cow and Jace. “She’s big.”
“Yup. She’s a cow. Remember?” His slow lazy drawl might not have succeeded in hiding his amusement. But it brought her shoulders up square as he’d wanted.
“Show me what to do.”
“I admire spunk.” He hadn’t thought before he spoke, or he wouldn’t have used that word.
She scowled at him. Then her anger or annoyance, or whatever it was, vanished, and she chuckled. “I can learn to milk a cow.” Her smile flattened. “But I can’t run a ranch full of them.”
“No matter how many times and ways you tell me you can’t manage, I haven’t changed my mind.”
Eyes as hard as the piece of molten glass he’d found in the ashes held his gaze without blinking. “Nor have I!”
What did she mean? But he wasn’t going to ask.
“See that little gate?” He pointed to the corner.
“Open it and chase the calf down that alley. He’ll spend the night away from his mama, and in the morning, you can milk.
” No doubt he’d have to show her how, but then he was done here.
Just as soon as Cal and Lee returned, he’d be on his way.
Why did he have to keep repeating it as many times as she insisted he needed to stay?
Dianne opened the gate and called, “Here, calf. Here, calf.”
Jace held back his laughter. “I said chase, not call.”
“Chase, huh?” Her lips flattened in a hard line, and she walked up to the calf. “Go.”
The calf butted her in the hip.
She darted Jace a look of pure narrow-eyed frustration.
“Pat him on the behind. He knows what he’s supposed to do.” He could help, and he would if she needed it. But, oh my, did he enjoy a spunky woman.
Her pat barely registered with the calf, and he skipped off in the wrong direction. Dianne charged after him. “Calf, go where you’re supposed to.”
Eddie joined Jace to watch. “What Mama doing?”
“Well, I can’t rightly say, but she’s supposed to be putting the calf in his pen.” If amusement gurgled up with his words, he couldn’t help it…didn’t even try.
“I heard that.”
He laughed slowly, softly.
The calf jogged along, Dianne steaming after it. More out of habit than persuasion, the critter ran down the alley. She followed it to the other pen and pulled the gate shut. Her feet still churning up a storm, she returned, closed the gate behind her, and strode from the bigger pen.
“I did it.” The stubborn determination that had drawn her face into hard lines vanished like last morning’s dew, replaced by a grin that grew into rolling laughter.
He blinked. “What’s so funny?”
She fluttered her hand as she tried to control her amusement. “Me.” Another laugh. “Us.”
As he closed the distance between them, she grew serious, her gaze never leaving his.
“Why are we funny?” His words growled from his throat.
Her eyes danced right into his heart.
Whoa. That was a dumb thing to think.
A sweetness softened her face and teased her lips into a smile. “Because our stubbornness balances each other’s.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” The acknowledgment was like opening a door to possibilities. He would not examine what that meant. Not now. Not while her eyes brimmed with something so alluring he couldn’t do anything but stare. He lowered his gaze to her full, smiling lips.
Skip barked excitedly as he chased Eddie, shattering the moment. And none too soon.
Jace had forgotten he was leaving. Forgotten she could and would manage without him. Forgotten he couldn’t stay. All that he thought was how sweet she was. Sweet with a touch of vinegar. How Chet would have enjoyed having her here.
Jace sucked in air. Because of his careless actions, Chet couldn’t have the pleasure of her company, so neither could Jace.
With a promise to show her how to milk the cow in the morning, an order to Skip to stay at the house, and a hurried “good night,” he parted ways with her and Eddie at the house and made his lonely way to the bunkhouse.
Too restless to sleep, he paced up and down the narrow aisle, pausing often in front of the tiny kitchen at the far end. The men cooked for themselves when they were at the ranch. Only during a roundup did Chet hire a cook and a chuckwagon.
The stove was cold.
Jace opened the narrow cupboard. Plenty of tinned beans. Some tinned peaches. A few jars of Mae’s preserves. He lifted the lid on several larger tins. A decent supply of flour and coffee beans. Salt. Sugar. Everything a man needed to survive.
Everything but a sweet smile and—
Stop right there. He was not going down that trail. No siree.
Dianne circled the kitchen. Chickens were easier to deal with than a milk cow and her calf, but she’d learn to do it. If only to prove to herself she could.
She paused at the window to look toward the bunkhouse and tapped a finger on her chin.
What had happened back at the pen? She’d been so pleased over having managed the calf.
But when Jace stood in front of her, it wasn’t the calf or the cow or even the ranch she thought about…
if any solid thought crossed her mind. It seemed Jace’s blue eyes had caught bits of the sky, backlit by sunshine and offering—
What? What had she imagined he offered? Or, for that matter, why did she even think along those lines?
She needed him to take care of the ranch.
That was all. She’d lost too many people in her life to open her heart to anything more.
Most likely, he felt the same way. No, it was only for the ranch, so she and Eddie had a home.
If convincing Jace meant preparing his meals and maybe even enjoying his company, it was all for the sake of permanency.
Pink drifted across the distant mountain peaks, reminding her it was time for Eddie to go to bed.
She called him inside.
“I bring Skip?” His fingers curled into the fur at the dog’s neck.
“No, Skip stays outside.”
Eddie sighed, kissed the dog’s head, and dragged himself into the kitchen.
His body language brought a smile to Dianne’s lips. Sometimes, words were unnecessary.
Why did that scene at the cow pen spring to her mind? That was an entirely different thing.
She helped Eddie wash and put on a nightshirt, then read a story from one of the books she’d brought.
She listened to his prayers and kissed him good night.
Being in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, might have upset him, but he flung his arms out and was asleep before she left the room.
Playing outdoors with the dog had prepared him for a good night.
He was safe in bed, and she returned downstairs. The house was empty. Lonely. She stared out the window. A light glowed in the bunkhouse. Was he as lonely as she? Of course not. This was home to him.
A home he was prepared to reject.
Lighting a lamp, she retreated to the sitting room, selected a book from the shelf, and sat down to read.
The words blurred before her eyes, and she blinked. The journey had been long and tiring. The past three days had been full of danger and anxiety. No wonder she was tired.
Tomorrow was another day with more opportunities to convince Jace to accept the gift Chet had left him.
Carrying the lamp, she made her way upstairs where she prepared for bed without disturbing Eddie.
As was her habit, she read a few verses from her Bible and knelt beside her bed to pray.
“Thank You for safety in our travels.” Like she told Jace, God’s protection was always there even when they didn’t notice.
“Thank You for this home.” It was perfect, but it wouldn’t be safe and comfortable if Jace left her to manage on her own.
“Help Jace forgive himself for the accident and stay here as Chet would want him to. You are my God, and I trust You. In Jesus’ holy name, I pray. Amen.”
The sheets were smooth and smelled of grass and flowers. The blankets were warm. She planned tomorrow’s meals. Maybe I’ll find a spade and dig up the garden in preparation for seeding. She’d discovered a collection of seeds in the basement. A garden and fresh vegetables—
What was that? A sound jerked her from her sleep.
Skip barked. A deep voice ordered him to be quiet.
That did not sound like Jace. Who else would be coming into the house?
Had Al returned? His leering look flashed across her thoughts.
Goose bumps skittered along her skin. Silently, she slipped from the bed and grabbed the length of wood she’d carried upstairs with her.
She’d scolded herself for being so fearful, but if she was going to be alone in the house, she wasn’t going to be unprotected.
Now she congratulated herself for being prepared.
Not wanting to confront an intruder in her wrap, she grabbed a coat from the trunk, slipped her arms into the sleeves, and tiptoed from the room.
At the top of the stairs, she paused to listen.
Not a sound came from below. Maybe she’d been mistaken.
But no, boots thumped on the porch, and Skip continued to growl.
Fear gripped her chest in a tight fist. Maybe she should retreat to her room and push the trunk against the door.
No. Whoever it was, she didn’t want him near Eddie.
Moving with the slow pace of a long-overdue spring thaw, she eased to the first step.
“Shut up, you mutt.”
Skip whined as if he’d been hit.
Anger lumped in her chest. How dare someone hurt that lovely dog?
She eased down another step, pausing when the wood creaked.
The outer door banged open. He was in the house. He must not make it to the stairs. Her toes curling into the wood, she descended two more steps, then paused to fill her lungs.
A board creaked in the kitchen. He was by the stove. The coffee pot rattled. Had the intruder come for food or drink? She clung to the wall. Should she continue going down or stay there, hoping and praying the man would drain the coffee pot, swipe the rest of the pie, and leave?
The coffee pot slammed to the stove. The man muttered. She couldn’t make out his words, but they didn’t sound friendly. Heavy boots hit the floor hard. He moved across the kitchen. Toward the stairs?
The stairwell was dark. Moonlight gave the kitchen an eerie glow.
If she slipped into the room, could she distract him from the stairs and her sleeping son?
Wood bit into her hand as she gripped her weapon and eased down the last few steps.
She paused. A shadowy bulk toward the table revealed the intruder.
Soundless as the air she breathed, she slipped into the kitchen, pressing herself against the wall, inching away from him.
Maybe she could make it out the door and run to the bunkhouse for help.
But could she leave Eddie alone? She mentally measured the distance to where she’d find Jace against the distance the intruder would have to go to reach her bedroom. He had a distinct advantage.
But if she could make it to the porch, she’d scream her lungs out, counting on it drawing the man toward her and awakening Jace at the same time.
The wooden floor chilled the soles of her feet as she edged toward the cupboards. She’d pass the stove and then dash for the door.
Squeak! The sound exploded in the silence.
A laugh as cruel as it was mirthless grated against her skin, invaded her thoughts, and stalled her breath.
“Ah. Nice of ya to join me.” More sharp-edged laughter. “Youse and me are gonna have fun.”
The outer door slammed shut, setting Skip into furious barking.
But Skip couldn’t help her. She was shut in alone with a man twice her size. The floor crackled. He moved. But what direction?
Before she could decide, huge hands clamped over her arms. Hot fetid breath swept over her face.
With her unable to lift her arms, her weapon was of no use. She had to free herself, and she squirmed and kicked and shot her head forward, satisfied when her forehead cracked into her assailant.
He let out a roar. “You need a lesson in manners.”
He needed a lesson in how to behave like a gentleman. She raised her arm, grabbed the length of wood with both hands and brought it down.