Whirlwind Baby

“Honey, they know it isn’t your fault.”

“Oh, fiddle, people don’t give a fig about whose fault it is.” She paced in front of her husband, her skirts swooshing against the wood floor. “They just know that things I make are being stolen and they won’t buy anything because they’re afraid it’ll be stolen, too.”

He chuckled, catching her hand and stilling her.

“I hope you’re wrong, Miz Josie,” Jake said. “Because that’s just plain silly.”

“Thank you.”

He smiled as he turned to open the door. “We’ll be on our way, then. See you later, Davis Lee.”

“Yeah.”

Emma said goodbye then preceded Mr. Ross out the door, noticing how the baby watched him. Emma glanced back before starting down the steps and saw the sheriff pull his wife into his lap. Taken by the sight, Emma paused.

Josie put her arms around her husband’s neck and laid her head on his shoulder. Davis Lee Holt was every bit as broad as Jake Ross and taller, but Josie Holt didn’t act one bit afraid of him. Emma wondered what it would be like to be that at ease with a man. Just one.

About halfway down the steps, Mr. Ross stopped. “I forgot to tell Davis Lee something. I’ll be right back.”

“All right.”

As she waited, she talked to Molly, pointing out the livery across the way then a hotel just beyond that looked almost finished. A sign across the front of the two-story stone building said New Owners. Construction to Resume Soon.

So far, the sheriff didn’t appear to have any information about a senator’s missing stepdaughter and daughter. The relief that moved through Emma was so strong it made her light-headed, as if she’d been out in the sun too long.

The heavy thud of boots sounded on the steps behind her and Jake Ross joined her. As they stepped into the dusty street, she started for the wagon, but he halted.

“Miz York, would you like something to drink before we head back?”

She hesitated, wondering if he realized the baby would have to come, too.

“Do you like lemonade? Pearl makes a good one.”

“Lemonade?” she asked in surprise. She loved lemonade, thought longingly of her mother’s. “Yes, I like it.”

“I’m thirsty and you probably are, too. Let’s have us a glass before we head back to the ranch.”

She supposed she could refuse and wait for him in the wagon, but lemonade… “All right.”

He gave a sharp nod and gestured to the right.

As they walked to the Pearl Restaurant, Emma wondered what his feelings toward the baby really were. She didn’t think she’d misread him, but she needed to be sure. She was no good at coaxing information out of people, but she wanted—needed—to know if Jake Ross was the one who should raise Molly.

As they stepped up on the plank walk in front of the restaurant, he stopped abruptly, calling out to a sturdy, red-haired man walking toward them. “Hoot!”

Emma halted beside Jake, keeping her head bent toward the baby. The fewer people who got a good look at her, the better.

The man stopped several inches away. “Jake. Ma’am.” He extended his hand. “Hoot Eckert.”

“This is Miz York, the baby’s nurse.”

“Hello,” she murmured, shaking his hand.

Eckert’s face was as round as his body and the red mustache and long sideburns gave him a jovial look. He peered at Molly. “So, this is the little girl you found.”

“Yeah,” Jake said. “I was wondering if you’d had any replies to that ad yet.”

Emma’s spine went to steel. This man ran the newspaper and Jake Ross was asking if a family had been found for Molly. Anger hummed through her.

“No, not yet. If I hear anything, I’ll come out to the Circle R or send Chesterene.”

“I’d appreciate it.” Jake shook hands with the man, who tipped his hat to her and walked on.

Emma didn’t know who Chesterene was and she didn’t care. All she cared about was the disappointment in Jake Ross’s taut voice that he was still responsible for Molly. Emma had to keep her mouth shut—the baby was supposed to be only a job to her.

The lanky rancher held open the door to the Pearl, his expression neutral until she passed in front of him with the baby. Then his face closed up like a coffin.

His reaction to the little girl was so obvious that Emma was unable to stop a flare of temper. “If you hadn’t found someone for the job, would you have sent Molly to that orphanage?”

Surprise flashed through his eyes before they went hard. Emma braced herself. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—do anything in front of these people. And, if he tried, she had her derringer in her skirt pocket.

Jaw clenched tight, he stood in the doorway of the restaurant, looking away. “I would’ve figured something out.”

What did that mean? Emma was afraid she knew. As much as she wanted to stay out of Jake Ross’s way, she had to find out if this was the place for her to leave her half sister. She had to learn as much about him as she could. Without giving away anything about herself.

If you hadn’t found someone for the job, would you have sent Molly to that orphanage? Damn if it was any of her business.

They’d left Whirlwind about an hour ago and that question had been sawing at Jake ever since. He wouldn’t have been able to send the kid there. Still, he didn’t like Emma York asking questions like that. She worked for him. She didn’t need to know any more than that.

But there was something about her. He couldn’t stop staring at her, though he’d managed to keep from it in Davis Lee’s office. The Pearl had been another matter. He’d ordered their lemonade and been surprised by Miz York’s reaction. She didn’t just like the sweet drink; she loved it. The first true smile he’d seen from her spread across her face and chased away the shadows in her eyes. And, just like that, Jake was staring again.

She wore a pink calico dress that hung a little loosely on her slender frame. Her long, dark hair was up today, not down as he’d seen it last night. As the wagon rocked along the hard-packed road toward the ranch, his mind seemed stuck on their meeting in the kitchen. The lamplight had gilded her hair with amber. He had wanted to touch the silky thickness. Because he still did, he tightened his grip on the reins.

Still, thinking about Emma York was a sight better than thinking about his brother-in-law, whom he’d glimpsed as they’d left town. Quentin hadn’t seen Jake and Jake hadn’t stopped to remedy that. He didn’t want to think about his brother-in-law so he turned his thoughts to the visit he’d paid to the sheriff.

He’d been planning to let Miz York go in alone to see Davis Lee, but she’d been trembling. There had been as much apprehension on her face as there had been embarrassment. As difficult as it had been for her to tell Jake about the theft of her corset, it had to be at least that hard to tell another man. No one at the ranch knew why he and the baby nurse had gone to Whirlwind. He didn’t see any reason to deepen her embarrassment by telling his family, who couldn’t do anything about it, anyway.

Knowing her corset had been stolen and observing how tightly she wrapped that shawl around herself had Jake figuring she didn’t have on a corset. Just as she hadn’t last night.

Coming upon her in the kitchen had torched something inside him, something he hadn’t felt in a lot of years. Bathed in the soft amber light, Emma York had looked like an angel. He hadn’t been able to see anything bare save her dainty feet, although that hadn’t stopped him wishing he had.

“The sheriff and his wife are good friends of yours?”

He sliced a look at her. She hadn’t said a word since they’d left town. Or, well, since they’d stopped a half mile back to make a pallet in the wagon bed for the baby, who’d fallen asleep. Miz York had held the child all day.

“Yeah, I’ve known Davis Lee my whole life. He and his brother, Riley. Miz Josie moved here only last fall. She’s a real nice lady.”

“Did she come here to marry the sheriff?”

Jake chuckled. “No. Those two danced around each other for a while on account of Miz Josie coming here to kill one of Davis Lee’s prisoners.”

“What?” The nurse’s jaw dropped.

Jake wasn’t much of a storyteller, but he seemed to hold her attention as he told her about Ian McDougal, the outlaw who had murdered Josie’s parents and fiancé. “He was part of a gang of brothers. They also killed a man from Whirlwind and nearly did in a Ranger when they murdered his partner. When Ian was finally caught, he was put in Whirlwind’s jail to wait for his trial.”

“Goodness,” she breathed. “So did he have a trial? What happened? Did Mrs. Holt kill him?”

“Not in the end, but she had a chance to. He hit me upside the head and escaped from the jail.”

Miz York frowned as she glanced at him. “How badly were you hurt?”

“Just had a big knot on my head. And my pride stung a little. Miz Josie and the sheriff both took off after McDougal, but she wound up letting him escape so she could bring Davis Lee back here because he got shot. The McDougals also killed our stage driver. That man’s brother-in-law ended up being the one to bring in the outlaw. Ian McDougal was tried and hanged not long after. Which he should’ve been, but Loren Barnes had to suffer for his part in it.”

“Why?”

“He made an attempt on McDougal’s life while the man was in jail here. Loren went to prison, but a lot of people, including the sheriff, didn’t think that was right. Davis Lee and his cousin, Jericho Blue, a Texas Ranger, were able to convince the judge to reduce the sentence to nine months. Loren’s supposed to get out next month. His sister, Cora, still lives here so I figure he’ll be coming back.”

“Aren’t people afraid?”

“Of Loren? Naw.” If they had to talk, Jake would much rather talk about this than anything about himself. He hadn’t spoken this long at a stretch since his school days when he’d been required to read aloud from McGuffey’s Reader every single day. “He was only trying to get justice for his widowed sister.”

“Whirlwind seems like such a quiet place.”

“It generally is.” He glanced over, catching a whiff of her soft scent and the flowers that grew in wild patches across the prairie. “What about where you’re from?”

“What do you mean?”

She looked as if he’d caught her sneaking around in the dark. “You come from a big town in Illinois?”

“A little bigger than Whirlwind,” she said quietly.

“You got people back there?”

She looked over her shoulder to check on the baby, but Jake got the impression she did it to avoid giving him her full attention. “Like who?”

“Your husband’s family or yours, I guess.”

“My mother and father are both there. Do you have any family besides the people at the ranch?”

Even now, five years later, it hurt like blue blazes to think about the wife and child he’d lost. “That’s it.”

“Georgia said Mr. Bram hasn’t been here all that long.”

Why was Miz York so all-fired interested in his family? Or was it only Bram? “He’s a drover.”

“Drives cattle?”

He nodded, dark thoughts creeping in. Of his resentment over Delia leaving him the way she had, of her brother, whom Jake didn’t want to feel responsible for anymore. “A lot of ranchers are sending their cattle to market and slaughter by train so work on the cattle drives is drying up. Bram came home about five months ago to work with me and Uncle Ike.”

“How long have your uncle and Georgia lived with you?”

“Always.” His jaw tightened. His whole family lived at the ranch and Jake liked it. Being cast off by their own mother, it was the only home he and Bram had ever known.

For a few short years after marrying, Jake had had all he’d ever wanted except a child with Delia. He’d wanted that more than anything and that desire had killed his wife. Now she was gone and so was his hope of having a family. Pretty much his interest in having one, too.

Jake hoped Miz York would shut up now. He was talked out. She sure did ask a lot of questions for someone who wasn’t all that free with information about herself. He didn’t mind answering some questions, but when she ventured into territory that made him think about his wife, he’d had enough.

They were less than a mile from the Circle R when a slow shrieking noise split the air. At the same instant Jake realized what it meant, a sharp crack sounded. The wagon hit the ground hard on Miz York’s side, the right front wheel splintering.

Before he could grab her, she pitched out of the wagon into the tall grass. She cried out, her skirts flying up to reveal the hem of a petticoat and a flash of white stockings. The crash jolted the baby and she screamed then began to sob. The horse drew up abruptly.

With a sick feeling in his gut, Jake half slid, half scrambled out of the wagon to check the little girl. Though he didn’t want to, he moved his hands over her. She was carrying on as if her tail were on fire, but she didn’t appear to be hurt. No blood, no scratches, no immediately visible broken bones.

He turned, looking for the baby nurse. Where was she? There, yards away, her pink calico dress almost hidden by the tall grass. He strode toward her. “Miz York!”

He told himself to remain calm, but as he moved, a black rage began to build. Knowing that wheel was weak, he’d told Waylon two days ago to fix it after he and Uncle Ike had returned from Whirlwind. Now Miz York might be hurt. The baby could’ve been, too.

Jake reached the slight woman just as she pushed herself to a sitting position. Her glasses were gone, tendrils of brown hair escaping from her chignon.

“Are you all right?” He knelt, but she got quickly to her feet, swaying slightly then steadying herself.

“The baby! Where’s the baby?”

“She’s still in the wagon.” He stood.

The nurse rushed past him.

“She’s okay. Are you?” A glitter in the grass caught his eye and he picked up her spectacles just before stepping on them. They were scratched, but not broken.

“Did you just leave her there?” Her voice trembled with anger. “Did you check on her at all?”

“Of course I did!” he snapped as he followed her to the wagon. What did she think he was, a coldhearted SOB? “She wasn’t bleeding, she wasn’t scratched, she didn’t appear to be hurt, but I wasn’t so sure about you. I’m still not. Did you bust anything?”

“I think I’m fine.” Reaching over the side of the wagon, she gathered the sobbing infant to her, cuddling her close and murmuring to her.

He sure couldn’t fault her care or concern for that child. As she turned toward him, Jake saw a cut over her left eyebrow and a scratch along the line of her jaw. Fury exploded inside him. His fist closed, nearly crushing her glasses. He ripped off his hat and started toward her.

Her eyes went wide and she backed up so fast she hit the side of the wagon. Her arm came up as if to ward off a blow. “Stay away! Stay back.”

“What?” Jake frowned, his gaze skipping over her, looking for further injuries. Maybe she’d taken a hit to the head. Waylon was going to answer for this.

“Stop! Don’t come any closer.” Holding the baby with one arm, she fumbled at her skirt pocket.

It registered then, how her voice shook, how the color had drained from her face. And Jake understood. She thought he was coming after her. She thought he was going to hit her!

That stopped him cold in his tracks a few feet away from her, cooling the rage pumping through his blood. A deep pain sliced at him. “You think I would hurt you? I would never—”

“Please, please stop.” She kept her hand in her pocket.

He realized he had taken another step toward her. He halted, reeling with disbelief and realization. Someone had hit her before. That made Jake angry all over again, but he struggled to keep it from showing.

“I’ll back up,” he said as he did it. The woman was terrified, her green eyes huge in her pale face. The distrust on her face twisted his gut. “I’m not coming closer, see? I’ll stay right here.”

After long seconds, she nodded, her pretty eyes full of turmoil.

Crushing his hat in his fist, he said quietly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

The wariness in her eyes was so deep, so dark that he wanted to gather her to him and soothe her until she knew there was no need to fear him. But that would probably scare her spitless. “Can you tell me if you’re hurt?”

“I’m fine,” she said tautly, her arms wrapped so tightly around the baby that the little girl protested with a loud noise.

“You have a cut above your eye. Your left one.”

She reached up to touch it, looking surprised at the blood on her fingers. “I’m all right.”

She was as frightened and defensive as a wounded animal. He could see she wasn’t going to let him get any closer and they needed to get home before dark. “I’ll tell you what. I’m gonna unhitch the mare. I’ll walk and you and the…baby can ride back to the ranch.”

She looked at the horse, then the damaged wagon. “I’ll walk, instead,” she said quickly.

He started to insist she ride then realized he would have to help her mount. She didn’t want him putting his hands on her.

Agreeing to let her walk went against everything his uncle had taught him about how to treat a lady, but Ike hadn’t seen the pure-dee terror in Emma York’s face when she’d thought Jake was going to hit her. “Are you sure you won’t ride—”

“I’m sure.”

The unsteadiness of her voice told him she was still afraid. He didn’t blame her. She didn’t know him well enough to know that she didn’t need to fear him. “If you’re in pain or hurt anywhere else,” he said gruffly, “I can carry her.”

“I’ll do it.”

He knew the relief was plain on his face when her mouth tightened. After placing her glasses carefully on the corner of the lopsided wagon, he walked around the mare’s head to the other side. Letting Emma York know she had plenty of room.

Jake jammed his hat on his head. After making sure the mare was uninjured, he unhitched her and looped the wagon reins into one hand. Letting his nurse walk to the ranch, especially carrying the baby, grated hard on him. “You tell me if you need to stop or if something starts hurting.”

“I will.”

With one last look back at her, he started walking. But she didn’t. After a long moment, he finally caught her movement out of the corner of his eye.

Someone—some man—had obviously hit her before. Who? When? Was that why she was here? Was she running from someone?

Jake didn’t want any trouble, didn’t need to get involved in someone else’s trouble. He was involved in plenty of his own.

But he couldn’t forget the paralyzing fear he’d seen in her face, her eyes. Jake cursed under his breath. He could shine it up any way he wanted, but he was involved.

Chapter Four

Well after dark that night, Emma’s nerves were still jumping and it wasn’t so much from the wagon accident as it was from the man who now believed she was afraid of him.

The incredulous look in Jake’s dark eyes when she’d cowered from him was burned in her brain. He’d quickly masked it, but he had been wounded by her reaction.

She was in the kitchen, where she’d stayed as much as possible since Sheriff Holt’s arrival shortly after supper. He and Jake had remained outside until the sun had set.

Georgia had offered to help Emma clean up, but she’d waved off the older woman’s assistance. So, Georgia had kept Ike and Molly company in the front room until the older two had brought Emma the baby and gone up to bed a few moments ago. Jake’s uncle and cousin seemed to really like the little girl. Everyone did, except Jake.

Emma sang softly to Molly as she swayed back and forth, putting the little girl to sleep. The buttery scent of corn bread and savory meat still lingered in the room. She waited until she could no longer hear the retreating hoof-beats of the sheriff’s horse before she stepped out of the kitchen. With Molly asleep on her shoulder, she scanned the spacious living area for any sign of Jake or his brother.

She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and glanced over, toward her room. Jake stood in the doorway, his wide shoulders filling the space.

Emma started in surprise. She hadn’t heard him come in, let alone make his way to her room.

He looked startled, too, as if he were surprised to see her.

“Oh. There you are,” he said gruffly as he moved to the dining table, staying on the opposite side. “I just wanted to let you know that Davis Lee didn’t find anything to help us with that thief, but we’ll keep looking. Not just for your, uh—” His gaze skipped away. “You know.”

She realized he was trying not to look at her chest. Her corsetless chest. Oh, lands.

“Okay,” she said in a half whisper, her own gaze dropping. Heat moved up her neck and into her cheeks. She needed to think of a way to make do until she could get another corset. Maybe two chemises? That sounded miserable in this hot weather.

Hugging the baby close, she moved over to the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace and gently laid down the little girl. The mingled scents of man and horse and outdoors drifted from her boss. When Emma straightened, she saw Jake’s big hands curl over the back of a heavy dining-room chair, his knuckles white against the dark bronze of his hands. As if he was trying to keep himself from moving.

And he was, she realized. He was trying to keep some space between them. Again, regret rolled through her. She wanted to apologize for reacting the way she had after the accident, but it was better this way, wasn’t it? The less comfortable she became with him—with his family—the easier it would be when she had to leave.

“I don’t know if we’ll be able to get your clothes back,” he said tautly.

She nodded, returning to the table as she adjusted her spectacles. They’d gotten scratched when she’d flown out of the wagon and Jake had picked them up. Which was good, because Emma had forgotten she was supposed to wear them.

Releasing the chair, he stepped away as he gestured at her. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” she said quietly. Her jaw was sore and scratched and the cut above her left eyebrow stung, but it could’ve been worse. The baby could’ve been hurt, too. Georgia had tended Emma, saying the wound wasn’t deep enough to require stitches. Thank goodness.

“I’m glad you’re all right.” The lantern light behind him stretched his shadow across the ceiling and far wall. His dark gaze burned into hers, causing a quiver in her belly. “It never should’ve happened.”

She managed a small smile, her body humming with a low vibration she didn’t understand. And a heightened awareness that she and Jake were the only two down here.

The front door opened and they both turned toward the sound. Bram came in, pulling off his dirty cowboy hat and hanging it on the rack behind the door. Red dust floated from his dark hair and rugged work clothes to the floor as he backed into the wall, toeing off one boot then the other.

Jake took a step toward the other man. “Any luck?”

Bram nodded, his gaze going to Emma. “Hi, Miz York.”

“Hello. I was just fixing a plate for you. I’ll get it.”

“Thanks.” His voice was gritty with fatigue. “I’m so hungry I could eat my saddle blanket.”

She walked the few steps into the kitchen, able to hear their low murmurs and catch a few words. She appreciated that they were keeping their voices down so as not to wake the baby.

Jake had told her earlier that Bram had gone out today with a group of ranchers, all riding fence to check on their cattle. In the last two weeks, the Circle R had lost four prime steers to a rustler. Jake had mentioned that a neighboring spread, the Rocking H, and the nearby Triple B ranch had also lost some prime beef. The Rocking H belonged to Sheriff Holt’s brother, Riley, but Emma couldn’t remember the name of the other owner. She knew they were both friends of the Ross family.

“We found an old camp and three ash piles.” Bram’s voice was scratchy with fatigue. “Riley and I figure it’s from the fire they used to heat their own brands and change ours.”