The Cowboy's Baby Bond

Chapter Four

Johnny turned the wagon around to head back to the store.

Willow grabbed his arm. “Where are you going? We have to go east.”

“We will, but I plan on being prepared. Fifty miles and back will take us several days. We’ll need food and water and supplies, and some oats for the mare if we expect her to carry us.”

Willow swung her head back and forth. “I don’t like the delay.”

He understood her concern to find her sisters. “A few minutes now will save us hours of regret later.” He stopped at the store. “No need for you to come in. I’ll pick up what we need.”

Her glance challenged him. He half expected her to argue, demand that they race after the girls without thought of food and supplies. Then she nodded. “I hope this won’t take long.”

At her easy agreement he released his breath. Perhaps she realized that arguing would only delay their departure. “I’ll be as quick as I can.” He hurried inside, ordered enough staples to last a few days and rushed back out with them, fearing she wouldn’t wait. With relief he saw the wagon and its occupants still there, and he stowed the box of supplies.

“I’ll have to make one more stop.” Johnny went to the feed store and purchased a sack of oats. He looked at Gray. Should he leave the horse at the livery barn or take him along? He decided on the latter. A man never knew when he’d be wanting a horse to ride.

“That’s it,” he said, climbing back onto the seat and flicking the reins. “We’ll be on our way.”

Willow held Adam on her knee and strained forward as if she could make the horse go faster. But Johnny knew he’d have to pace the old girl if he expected her to complete this journey.

“You’re going to get an awful crick in your neck if you sit like that the whole trip.”

Inch by inch, she eased back, until she looked halfway comfortable.

They left Granite Creek behind and followed the dusty road east. Johnny did his best to avoid the potholes and stay in the well-worn ruts, but sometimes the holes couldn’t be avoided. The wagon wheels dropped into another, and Willow was jostled against him. Adam merely laughed.

She righted herself. “At least he’s enjoying this.” She sounded aggrieved.

“Willow, I know you’re worried, but I assure you we’ll find your sisters. In the meantime, you might as well relax and enjoy the scenery.” And the company, he almost added. But they were together simply out of necessity. Her need to find her family, his to make sure she got safely settled. After that? Well, he meant to move on with his plans. He owed it to himself, but more so to Thad. It took effort to move past the death of a sister and the treachery of a girl he’d trusted. Johnny meant to be there for his friend each step of the way.

Speaking of sisters... “I’m surprised your folks let your sisters travel across the country on their own.”

“My parents have been dead two years.”

“You’ve lost your husband and your parents? That’s tough. I’m sorry.” Words were so inadequate. He wished he could do something practical to express his sympathy. Helping her find the girls would have to suffice. “Your sisters have been living somewhere. Shouldn’t the people they’ve been with be concerned about them traveling alone?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Reames are their guardians. Or rather, they were.” The look Willow flung at Johnny clearly expressed anger. But surely she was not angry at him. His questions had been innocent enough.

“Were? What happened?”

“When my husband died, they refused to keep the girls any longer.”

“What? Why, that’s downright dishonorable.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Johnny mulled over the information. Things began to fall into place, though they made no sense. “Your married name is Reames. Any relation?”

“I married their son.” The words were spit out as if they were bitter to the taste.

The more she told him, the less Johnny understood. “Had the girls done something to make them angry?”

“No, I did.”

“What could you possibly do that would justify them closing their home to your sisters? Seems they should be more than willing to forgive it, if only so they could enjoy getting to know their little grandson.”

She wrapped both arms about Adam, pulling him into a cocoon of safety. “That will never happen.”

“Never? Surely they’ll change their mind when they get over their grief.”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Johnny longed to understand this unusual situation, but he must respect her wish to end the conversation.

In the ensuing silence, the little he knew about her went around and around in his head. Her parents had died two years ago. She hadn’t seen her sisters in almost two years. Were the facts connected? How long had she been married? From what she’d told him, he guessed her to be nineteen years of age. Wouldn’t that make her seventeen when her parents died? Was she married before then? She must have been.

“I know how death changes a person’s plans.” He told her how Levi had been planning to marry Helen. “But she drowned. After that, her family packed up and left. Thad—he’s the man who is going to live in the cabin I’m repairing... Huh.”

The truth suddenly hit Johnny. He didn’t care if he lived there or not. It was all for Thad’s sake.

Willow gave him a questioning look. “Huh, what?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Might help ease my mind to think about something besides my missing sisters.”

If Johnny could do that, he would tell her almost everything. “Okay, here goes. Helen had a brother, Thad. We’ve been best friends for years. He and I were raising horses together. We had plans to breed fine draft horses and break them. No one hereabouts raises the big animals. They are all brought in from east or south. We already had half a dozen broodmares and a fine stallion. But when his sister died, it seemed like Thad lost a goodly portion of himself. Then he discovered the girl he thought he loved had been secretly seeing another man. Between the two things, he almost lost his mind. He didn’t want anything more to do with the horses and insisted we sell them to a breeder over in Wyoming.

“Nothing mattered to Thad anymore. It was like watching him die inside. He moved away with his parents and I didn’t hear from him all winter. But a few weeks ago I got a letter. He wants to buy back the horses and bring them here so we can continue with our plans. He’s going to live in the house where Thad’s family lived before Helen’s death.”

Willow had shifted so she could watch Johnny as he related his story.

“I told you it was a long one.”

“So you need to fix the cabin before he returns.”

“There’s been a little damage to it—you know, shingles missing, a window broken, the porch sagging.”

She nodded. “Are you worried he won’t stay if it’s not in good repair? Like maybe he isn’t really committed to this partnership between you two?”

Her question startled Johnny. Was that his reason for being so dedicated to this task? Except how dedicated could he be if he’d dropped everything to escort Willow and Adam around the country? Face-to-face with the thought, he had to admit it held some truth.

“I suppose I am afraid he’ll change his mind again, maybe return to the black mood he was in when I last saw him, so I’m doing everything I can to see he doesn’t have any reason to do so.” Johnny met her eyes, saw understanding and compassion.

“I know what it’s like to wonder if you can trust someone.”

“I trust Thad.”

“So long as nothing goes wrong. That’s not trust.”

“Like I said, death changes things.” Johnny had to make her understand, if only to prove he trusted his friend. “I think by coming back, Thad is confronting his pain head-on. I want to help him heal. I believe if he sees the cabin damaged he will only see how things go bad. If I have it repaired, he’ll see that it’s okay to remember the good times.” Johnny shrugged, more than a little embarrassed by his philosophical take on the matter. “It’s like the Bible says, ‘Blessed are they that mourn; for they shall be comforted.’ I guess if he comes back I hope he can mourn his loss and move on.”

Willow stared straight ahead, her shoulders drawn up and her back rigid.

Johnny wanted to touch her, ease the strain he saw, but feared she would be offended. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “He’s fortunate to have a friend like you.” She eased back.

Adam, who until now had been happily playing with his mother’s fingers, arched his spine and tried to escape her hold.

“He’s not sick again, is he?” Johnny asked. It seemed foolish to drag the little guy all over the countryside when he’d been ill the day before.

She lowered her cheek to his forehead. “No fever. He’s just getting restless.” She poured a little water into a cup and held it for Adam to drink, then turned and placed him in the area she’d prepared for him. There was room enough for him to stand or sit or move around a bit, yet he was safe from falling out. He stood and bounced up and down.

“Man, man.” He grinned at Johnny.

Johnny grinned back. “He’s a friendly little guy.” The words weren’t even out when he recalled what she’d said about Adam not going to others...especially his father. How odd. Johnny wanted to ask about that, but feared he’d be intruding on her grief. “We’ll stop soon and have dinner.” Normally, when he or his brothers were out doing something, they didn’t stop at noon, satisfied with grabbing jerky or biscuits from their saddlebags. But he guessed a woman and a child might need a little more care.

Up ahead, some leafy cottonwoods beckoned and a stream flowed nearby. “There’s a good spot.” He turned the wagon aside and pulled into the shade. He helped Willow from the wagon, then lifted Adam to the ground, where the little guy toddled about.

“He’s glad to be down where he can move around,” Willow said.

Johnny would have enjoyed watching Adam explore, but he had to tend to the horses, and took them both to water, then left them to graze.

By the time he returned, Willow had spread a quilt and brought out a loaf of bread and some cheese from the supplies he’d purchased.

“I will pay for our share of the food,” she murmured, not meeting his gaze. “You don’t need to be taking care of us.”

“We’ll see.” He had no wish to argue over petty things.

“You’re trying to avoid an argument.”

He shrugged. “What’s wrong with that?”

They studied each other. He couldn’t say what she saw, apart from a half-breed man with dark skin. Did she see the guardedness that he wore about him like armor? Did she see his determination to never again open his heart to any woman?

On his part, he saw a woman with flyaway brown hair that had again escaped every hairpin and hung about her shoulders. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask why she wasted time trying to control it, but then he thought better. Much too personal for two reluctant traveling companions. He saw—or did he sense?—a guardedness that matched his own. He wondered at the cause. Though perhaps he knew. She’d lost parents and a husband. That seemed enough to make a person build walls around her heart.

A smile brightened her eyes even before it reached her lips. “Avoiding an argument seems a good thing to me.”

He grinned. “Me, too. Do you want me to ask a blessing on the food?”

She blinked.

He guessed she hadn’t thought of grace.

“That would be nice.” She held her son’s little hands as she bowed her head.

Adam gave Johnny a wide-eyed, curious look.

Johnny closed his eyes and prayed, keeping it short and simple, though he added a request for safe and successful travels.

They ate the plain meal. He wished they had time to make coffee, but there seemed no point in starting a fire. As Willow gathered the dinner things together to wash with water from the stream, the little boy tackled Johnny, making him chuckle.

He caught Adam and swung him into the air, earning a rolling belly laugh.

Willow stared at them, a tight look on her face.

Johnny lowered Adam to the ground. “Will I hurt him, doing that?”

She shook her head. “He loves it.”

“Then what did I do to make you look at me that way?” Adam clung to his leg, getting a free ride as Johnny moved closer to Willow, wanting to read her eyes for a clue as to what worried her.

She returned the dishes to the wagon, seeming to use it as an excuse to avoid looking at him again. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Can we resume our travels?”

“I’ll get the horses.” He brought them back, hitched up the mare and tied Gray to the rear. Willow already sat on the bench, Adam perched on her knees. There was nothing to do but climb up beside her.

They returned to the road and continued their journey, but the silence between them that had earlier been comfortable now crackled with tension.

“Willow—”

“Adam is ready for a nap.” She laid him on a quilt in the back and he fell asleep sucking two fingers.

Johnny had no intention of spending the rest of the day with this strain between them. “Willow, I know I did something, or said something, that upset you. I’d apologize but I don’t know what I did. I think it fair that you explain it to me.”

* * *

Willow’s thoughts twisted and turned. Was there anything more hurtful than seeing a man like Johnny play with Adam? If only she could dream of someone like him. Her chest muscles clenched with a thousand painful regrets.

“It’s nothing you did. Not really.”

“There is no one else here to blame for the way you looked at me.”

There’s me. But she wouldn’t tell him that, nor what she meant by the words. She would carry the blame the rest of her life. If only for her own sake, she wouldn’t care so much, but her mistakes would hurt Adam and perhaps her sisters. At least her marriage to Bertie had given Adam a name, though she wished it wasn’t Reames, one that carried too many regrets.

Johnny continued to gaze at her, his dark eyes full of hurt and compassion. An odd mixture. Was it hurt on his own behalf and compassion for the hurt he might see in her?

The thought compelled her to say more. “It’s just that seeing you play with Adam makes me realize all the things I can’t give him.”

“I don’t understand.”

Of course he didn’t, because she hadn’t explained it, nor did she plan to. “He will never know a father’s love.”

Johnny’s eyes narrowed. “You are a fine-looking woman. There will be lots of suitors, I’m sure.”

“Thanks.” She clasped her hands together to keep from tidying her hair. “But I will never remarry.” To do so meant telling the whole truth about her marriage to Bertie. It was too great a risk. How could she be certain a man wouldn’t look at Adam differently if he knew the facts? Bertie had despised the baby because of the circumstances of his birth. He’d had plenty of mocking, ugly words to describe her beautiful son.

His comments to Willow had been cruel, as well. He’d accused her of being a loose woman, and every time she went out, he’d asked if she’d had a rendezvous with a lover. No, she would not subject either of them to such a life. “I will never marry again.” She hadn’t meant to say the words aloud nor quite so vehemently.

Johnny jerked about and faced forward.

She stole a quick look at him, then studied her hands. “So you see, Adam will never know a father’s love.” Her words sounded weak even to herself, but she couldn’t explain she meant more than remarriage. Poor little Adam would never know love from Peter, who had outright rejected both of them. He’d never known it from Bertie. Wouldn’t even know it from Bertie’s father, whom everyone assumed was Adam’s grandfather.

Johnny began to speak, so softly she had to lean closer to hear him. “That’s your grief talking. I saw the same thing with Thad. He couldn’t imagine life could go on. Couldn’t believe in dreams. Couldn’t make plans. But in time, grief loses its grip and it becomes possible to live again. To laugh. To plan.” Johnny turned to her. “Even to marry again.”

He held her with his powerful gaze. She couldn’t look away. Couldn’t think. Words came to her mouth that she dare not speak, and yet they pushed at her lips as if they must be spoken. She pressed her collarbone as pain stabbed at her chest. She dare not confess the truth about Adam. For his sake she must never speak of it. With a great deal of effort she jerked away from Johnny’s gaze.

If she ever married again it would not be for love. Love could not exist with secrets, and Adam’s parentage must remain a secret.

“Remarriage is not for me and it has nothing to do with grief.” Little did Johnny know that she did not grieve Bertie’s death except for one fact. It had caused her sisters to lose their home, but only because Mr. Reames was so uncharitable and untrue to his word. He’d led her to believe the girls would be safe if she married Bertie, which she had done. His death was in no way her responsibility. She’d done her best to persuade him not to drink. He’d simply laughed in her face and told her she couldn’t make him do anything. Sadly, it was true.

Johnny continued to watch her. Knowing he would say more on the matter, perhaps point out the benefits of a marriage, she decided it was time to turn the conversation to his personal life. “You’re a fine-looking man. I expect there are lots of young ladies eager for your attention. Anyone in particular?”

He cranked his head to look straight ahead.

Seemed she had touched a sore spot.

“No one in particular. Like you, I’m not interested in marriage.”

She gave a disbelieving snort. “Except I’ve already tried it. Have you?”

“Thankfully, I escaped just in time.”

“Really?” She tried and failed to imagine what might have gone wrong. Not only was Johnny fine-looking, she’d seen all kinds of other qualities a young lady might admire—his gentle nature, his kindness, the way he treated Adam.

Perhaps the young lady had died. But... “You said you ‘escaped.’ Isn’t that an odd word choice?”

One shoulder lifted in a shrug that she guessed was meant to inform her he didn’t care.

Now her curiosity kicked in. That one little word—escaped—informed her that whatever had happened, it had been hurtful. For some reason, Willow wanted to comfort him.

Finally he replied, “It’s not odd if it fits.”

“I see.” Except she didn’t. “Or at least I would if you care to explain it.”

“It’s not like it’s a secret. Everybody in the whole county knows what happened.”

Again, she felt a world of pain behind his words. But she said nothing. She had no right.

“I was about to be married.” He spoke softly as if lost in his memories, his attention straight ahead. “Trudy Dingman was her name. I loved her. Thought she loved me.” He paused for a beat of silence. “I was wrong. She only planned to use me.” In short, brisk statements, as if he meant to relay the story in as few words as possible, he told a tale that could be a mirror of Willow’s own. About a young woman pregnant by a man who disappeared. How she turned to Johnny, pretending to love him in order to have a name for her child. Not that Willow had pretended to love Bertie, though she’d done her best to be kind and obedient until Adam was born, and then she was more concerned with protecting him, especially when Bertie’s drinking spells grew worse.

“Her old beau returned and she dumped me to marry the man who had put her in the family way.” Johnny’s tone might be cold and indifferent, but it did not disguise the depth of his pain at being so callously used.

Willow pressed her palm to his forearm. “I’m sorry. No one deserves to be treated like that.”

He glanced at her hand.

Feeling more than a little embarrassed at touching him and offering him comfort, she withdrew and clasped her fingers together in her lap.

He pulled in a long breath, as if he hadn’t filled his lungs during the entire telling of his story. “I learned a valuable lesson. Don’t trust a woman just because she smiles sweetly at you and speaks the right words.” His jaw muscles bunched. “Without truth and trust in a relationship, a person has nothing.” He stared past her. “Nothing but lies, trickery and deceit. I’ll never trust a woman again.”