Linda Ford (16 page)

“Ah, but I think you are.” He cupped her elbow and proceeded up the hill as satisfied as a well-fed cat.

“You might not be as smart as you think you are.” She knew she sounded petulant. The letter that had weighed on her mind all day now promised relief and freedom. She couldn’t wait to give it to Linette.

A little later when Ward and Eddie excused themselves to look at one of the horses, she got her chance. “Linette, I’d like to request another favor.”

Linette nodded. “All you have to do is ask.”

She extracted the letter from her deep pocket. “Will you post this for me?”

“That is too easy to be a favor.”

Red’s smile felt a little crooked. “There’s more. When I get a reply, will you make sure to give it directly to me?”

Linette didn’t answer for a moment. “You’re saying you don’t want me to give it to Ward to deliver? Why?”

She waggled her hands. “I don’t want to argue with him about me leaving.” It didn’t begin to explain her reasons, which were less about what Ward might do and a whole lot more about fearing her own weakness. It wouldn’t take a lot of arguing for her to agree to stay.

However, that was not possible.

Linette laughed. “You know there’s only one reason he’d argue with you. He cares about you.”

“I don’t fancy having to defend my decisions. Promise me you won’t give the letter to Ward. Please.”

“Very well, if that’s how you want it. But why are you running from him?”

“I believe it’s for the best that I move on.”

Linette considered her so long and hard that Red pretended a great deal of interest in the painting beyond Linette’s shoulder.

“Red.” Linette’s soft voice drew Red’s eyes to her. “There’s no need to run and hide. You are a beautiful, competent woman any man would be honored to love.”

Red ached to tell Linette exactly what she’d endured for Thorton’s amusement and then ask if she still felt a man would be honored to love her. But she knew the answer and didn’t need it spelled out for her. She took the letter from her pocket and handed it to Linette. “Thank you.”

Now all she had to do was wait for a response.

She could only hope it would not be long in coming.

* * *

“We’ll be gone ten days to two weeks,” Ward said to Red. “The heavy rains to the west are threatening to flood the lower pasture. We need to move the herd to higher ground.” Eddie and the other cowboys were mounted and ready to go. A chuckwagon had already departed.

“I can manage quite fine on my own.”

He laughed. “Try not to miss me too much.” And with a saucy salute and a flashing grin, he rode away with the others.

* * *

Now, only three days later, she stared down the trail as dusk settled into the hollows and wondered if he’d come to his senses while he was gone. Would he think about the sort of woman Red was? What would his mother think if he ever located her?

She turned back to the interior of the cabin, determined to ignore such foolish contemplations. If she received the response she hoped for from her letter, she would soon move on. And if the reply was not what she wanted, she would continue to look for something else.

Several times, Daisy had brought Pansy and Billy to play. Belle enjoyed it thoroughly.

“I like having friends to play with,” Belle said, pulling Red from her musing. “Billy knows lots of games.”

“You’ll have to do your lessons in the morning before you can go out and play.” Her little sister could read fairly well and had improved in her sums. But it would be wonderful if she could go to a real school.

As soon as dishes were done, they sat at the table. Belle played while Red read the papers, though she’d read every word twice already. If she had yarn she could knit, but she lacked the materials and would not ask Linette for any. She owed her far too much already.

The hours trudged along until Belle’s bedtime. And then hollow silence filled the room. Red wandered from one side of the cabin to the other, touching objects now grown familiar—the red checked curtains at the windows, the handle of the shovel she kept close to the door, the smooth wood of the shelves, the stack of wood that reminded her of Ward’s care.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Ward could not figure so hugely into her life.

Her eyes lighted on the picture over the table. It lay in shadows so she couldn’t read the words. Not that she needed to see them to know what they said.
Whither shall I flee from Your presence?
Crossing her arms across her stomach, she stared at the picture. If only she could hide from God. The best she could hope for was to block thoughts of Him from her mind. Which was increasingly hard to do, thanks to the constant reminder of the wall hanging, the Sunday services at the ranch and in no small part, Ward’s gentle words. He’d often said God forgives, doesn’t see our past.

Easy for him to say. What had he ever done wrong?

Her steps long and hurried, she crossed the cabin, spun around and made a return trip. Back and forth, chased by churning thoughts, driven by a relentless restlessness.

“Enough,” she murmured, and sat down on a chair. Her gaze slid to the knapsack. She drummed her fingers on the table. A book would relieve her boredom. But she did not move. She’d long ago stuck the one book she’d glanced at back in the bag, finding the poems triggered a flood of memories she didn’t care to deal with. Besides, the books were Ward’s. Just holding them would make her miss him.

But surely she could read one without her emotions raging wildly. She stared at the bag, her heart pressing to her ribs as she tried to convince herself she didn’t want to read. She failed that argument. They were only books, she reasoned, nothing more.

She edged toward the bag. It meant nothing that she accepted his invitation to enjoy his books. He need not know. She lifted the flap, hurriedly shoved aside the quilt, not allowing thoughts of his mother to enter her mind.

She grabbed the first book her fingers touched, making certain it wasn’t the poetry book.

“Thank goodness it’s a novel.” She returned to the table, pulled the lamp close and opened the pages. Two hours later, she reluctantly closed the book and made her way to bed.

The next day she hurried through her chores and read as Belle worked on her sums. In the afternoon, Grady, Pansy and Billy came to play with Belle. They ventured outdoors and Red sat at the open door, enjoying the story.

A cold wind came up. Daisy came to get Pansy and Billy and Eddie took Grady home. Belle and Red retreated indoors and closed the door. She was grateful for the warmth from the stove and wood to burn. Thanks to Ward.

She made soup and biscuits for supper, read to Belle and tucked her into bed.

This time, Red didn’t mind when darkness descended. She sat and enjoyed reading. She felt an unreasonable gratitude toward Ward for providing her this pleasure. Not that she would tell him.

* * *

He’d been gone a week. Not since she was a child anticipating Christmas had Red counted the days and seen them pass on such reluctant feet.

It didn’t help that Belle asked several times a day when he was coming back.

“He said they’d be gone up to fourteen days.”

Belle’s dramatic sigh echoed the emptiness in Red’s heart.

How could she have allowed herself to grow so fond of the man? Did she secretly want to be hurt?

Of course she didn’t. But at some time in the past weeks she’d allowed a crack in her armor without realizing it.

Belle stared out the window. “Grady’s coming,” she shrieked.

It had been cold and rainy for the better part of two days, preventing the children from playing outside.

Red joined her sister at the window. “Linette’s bringing him.” This was the first time Linette had visited the cabin and would no doubt expect to be invited in. Red hustled to fill the kettle and put it on the stove, then rushed to open the door.

“Please come in, though it feels strange to invite you into your own house.”

Grady darted over to join Belle at her toys.

Linette chuckled. “My house is up on the hill.”

“I know. But you spent the winter here.”

Linette grew wistful. “I did and it was a lot of fun.” She accepted Red’s invitation to sit at the table. “Did anyone ever tell you about it?”

Red poured water over the tea leaves and put out a plate of cookies. “A bit.”

Linette chuckled. “I came out expecting a marriage of convenience. My father had arranged for me to marry a much older man back in England.” She grimaced. “I couldn’t bear the idea and I was so sick of the restrictions of my life. I was friends with Eddie’s fiancée, and she showed me the letter she wrote telling him that she’d changed her mind and couldn’t marry him. It was her suggestion to tell Eddie I’d be willing to take her place. So when two tickets arrived, I thought they were meant for me. But Eddie hadn’t received his fiancée’s letter and meant the tickets for her.” She grinned. “He wasn’t pleased when I showed up instead.”

Red gaped. “What did he do?”

“Because of the weather he said I could stay until spring. By then we’d fallen in love.”

“That’s amazing.” Red tried to sound enthusiastic but the ache in her heart made it difficult. She could never hope for such a sweet happily ever after. She poured the tea and offered cookies, taking some to the children.

“Oh, I forgot the reason I came, though it is only an excuse. I’ve been dying to visit.” Linette glanced about. “I know you think you have to run and hide. But I hope and pray you find love and happiness here as I did.” She dug into her pocket. “I have a letter for you.”

Red took the envelope and studied the return address. This was the letter she’d hoped for. “Thank you.” It felt heavy in her palms, though it weighed no more than a sheet of paper should.

When Linette saw that Red didn’t intend to open the envelope while she was there, she turned to other things. “Do you need anything? Firewood? Food?”

“I’m fine. Thanks. Ward made sure we had a good stock of supplies before he left.”

Linette grinned. “I guessed as much. Ward’s the sort you can always count on.”

“Yes.” She wouldn’t let her thoughts pursue that idea. It was his family that he wanted to be taking care of, not Red and Belle. She understood it. Didn’t feel any resentment.

A little later, Linette announced she had to leave.

Red escorted Linette and Grady to the door. “It was nice of you to visit.”

“I’ll come again, if you don’t mind.”

“I’d like that.” It surprised her how much the idea appealed.

The pair departed.

Red stared at the letter, afraid to open it for fear it would not be what she hoped for.

“Aren’t you getting cold?” Belle called from the cabin.

Realizing she stood in the open door letting out the warm air, Red returned inside and put the letter on the table to consider it.

“We have a letter?” Belle managed to sound curious and worried at the same time.

Her words spurred Red into action and she slit the envelope open, unfolded a sheet of paper and read it through twice. Her eyes hot with tears, she finally turned toward the anxious Belle. “It’s a place for us to go.”

Belle’s expression turned stormy. “We have a place right here. I like it. I like Grady and Cookie and Pansy and Ward. I don’t want to go someplace else.” Her bottom lip jutted out.

“Honey, this was never meant to be for long. This is Eddie and Linette’s cabin. We can’t continue to use it. It’s time for us to move on and become independent.”

Belle backed away, fire burning from her eyes. “You just don’t want anyone to help us. You don’t want people to like us.”

“Belle, that is not true.” Except a shiver of truth traveled through her brain. If she didn’t let people like her, then she wouldn’t have to endure their shock and horror when they discovered the truth. She grabbed the paper and showed Belle the picture of three women and two men standing before a square, two-story building. “Here, look at this. This is a new mission in Medicine Hat where they want to teach school, and help people who are abandoned or homeless. You know where that is. South of here, close to the American border. Just think, you could go to a real school.”

Belle examined the picture, then handed the paper back. “I don’t want to go. My friends are here.” She silently challenged Red to dispute the fact.

She couldn’t.

“Ward is my friend even if you won’t let him be your friend.”

Red ignored the accusing words. Friends? That’s what Ward had asked for. And she’d basically refused his offer. Why? What harm would there be in friendship?

The answer ached through her. She didn’t belong in decent society. At the mission she would be accepted as a needy, damaged person. “Belle, they said we were welcome and they could find work for me, so we’re going and that’s all there is to it.”

Belle grabbed her doll and retreated to the far corner of the room, her back to Red. The words she mumbled to her doll informed Red that her sister considered her unfair and mean.

Belle would adjust to the new situation.

Red would, too. She wouldn’t let regrets and longings and dreams of things that couldn’t be stop her from moving forward.

Something argumentative bounced around in her brain. She kept saying people wouldn’t accept her. Yet Ward knew of her past and wanted to be friends. Linette knew and had been kind and accepting. No doubt Eddie knew and he allowed her to live in his cabin. Cookie included them. Cassie and Roper allowed their children to play with Belle.

Was Ward right? Did she need to forgive herself and accept that God forgave and loved her?

She might have believed it based on how those at the ranch had welcomed her.

Except for one thing.

They didn’t know the whole truth. They only knew she’d been forced to dance in a saloon to protect Belle. None of them knew how Thorton had humiliated her until she hated not only her red hair, but her entire body, both inviting men to leer and touch her without her permission. And certainly without her wanting them to. She shuddered. A mission for outcasts was the best place in the world for her. And it would suit Belle fine, too, once she got used to it.