Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy for her to forget him.
She’d tried to get news out of Uncle Horace, but he was as tight-mouthed as a clam.
She had learned that Harrison had been seen in town more than once in the past few weeks, however; she’d overheard some of her customers talking about him.
It seemed he’d involved himself with Jace Garrett and Sheriff Raynor.
They were trying to solve Jeb’s murder and locate the highwaymen and arsonists who’d wrought so much grisly mayhem.
Yet Harrison hadn’t stopped by the store once, not even to question Miracle again about what she knew or to collect on the money she owed him for the hotel.
She was glad.
She didn’t want to be involved with him anymore anyway.
Squaring her shoulders, she decided she didn’t give a damn what Harrison Danner thought.
She would try to help his father, and that was that.
¤ ¤ ¤
Lexington Danner looked down at her brother’s dark gold hair as he bent to examine the udder of Curly Wythecomb’s dairy cow.
The Guernsey bawled at the touch of Harrison’s fingers on the tender muscle.
“What do you think?” Lexie asked.
“Dried up,” responded Harrison.
“Cain’tcha fix’er?” Curly questioned anxiously.
“I can try.” Harrison straightened and looked at the stooped farmer.
“But I can’t guarantee results.”
“We don’t got another milk cow,” said Curly.
Lexie and Harrison exchanged glances.
The guernsey had milk fever.
The milk was dried up and caked inside the udder.
The udder was swollen and tender, with a hard knot inside it.
If the disease worsened, pus would ooze from the udder.
The guernsey could even die.
Harrison glanced behind him to the silent group of fourteen children standing stoically beside the tar-paper shack.
Even the tiniest baby wasn’t fussing.
It was as if life had beaten all the emotion right out of them.
Curly had less than five acres of land – land leased to him by Jace Garrett – and it was the sorriest bit of acreage around.
Cedar trees were plentiful, but where they grew the soil was spoiled for crops.
Cutting them down didn’t help.
Curly and his family could scarcely scratch a living out of the hard, unforgiving dirt.
Even field grass only grew in sporadic tufts.
“I’ve got a dairy cow I can loan you,” Harrison said.
“I couldn’t do it.” Curly shook his head.
“I couldn’t pay you.
And Wythecombs don’t take charity.”
Hardheaded old fool, Harrison thought in exasperation.
“This cow isn’t going to produce any more milk, and she might very well die.”
“Ain’t there somethin’ you can give ‘er?”
“She’s got milk fever,” Lexie gently explained.
“We can apply hot poultices and open an abscess if it forms, but only time will tell if the treatment will save your cow.”
“Meanwhile, you’re out of milk,” Harrison pointed out bluntly.
He gestured toward the children standing beside their mother, stairstep fashion.
“You need a cow.
We’ll work out compensation later.”
“Take it,” Myrna Wythecomb said.
Her husband drew a breath and nodded tightly.
“Thank you, then, Dr.
Danner.”
On the way back to the Danner property Harrison was silent.
He drove the wagon by rote, unaware that his sister was watching him out of the corner of her eye.
They were nearly at their father’s house when Lexie broke the silence.
“I’ve been grieving for weeks, hardly any use to my family and friends, feeling cheated, but then you see a family as desperate as the Wythecombs and it puts things in perspective.”
Harrison grunted.
“It’s too bad Curly wouldn’t just take the cow.”
“He’s got his pride.”
Lexie nodded slowly, shooting him another glance.
“Pride can get in your way sometimes.
I speak from experience, you know.”
Harrison sighed.
“How come I get the feeling you’re about to make some kind of point?” he asked in a long-suffering voice.
“What is it with you and Kelsey?” Lexie demanded, dropping all forms of subtlety.
“You act like strangers all of a sudden, and you’ve known each other all your life.
She knows you didn’t mean to stand her up at the altar, so I figure it’s you that’s causing the problems, not her.”
“Since Mother’s death I haven’t really wanted to see anyone.” He wasn’t going to explain about his broken engagement to Kelsey until Kelsey let the truth be known.
Since there’d been no word from the Garretts, Harrison guessed she hadn’t told Jace yet for reasons of her own.
“You’ve made a point of seeing Sheriff Raynor.
At first I thought it was to get your mind off Mother, but now I don’t think so.
Why are you so involved?
It sure isn’t to save Jace Garrett’s skin from those highwaymen.”
“Since you’re so all-fired interested,” Harrison pointed out with irritation, “why don’t you make a guess?”
“Miracle Jones.”
“Don’t talk to me about that little savage.” He refused to think about Miracle.
Good God, he couldn’t trust himself even to remember her image without suffering a physical reaction.
Lord, what a mess he’d made of things.
Lexie’s fine blond brows lifted.
“You’re afraid for her, aren’t you?
Why?
What happened?”
Sighing, Harrison pulled the team the last few yards across his father’s property, bringing them to a halt beside the stables as he noticed Tremaine’s buggy already parked beneath the portico.
He hadn’t had time, nor the inclination, to explain to his family about Miracle’s involvement with the kidnappers.
And he didn’t feel like going into it now.
“Anybody on that stretch of road between Rock Springs and Malone isn’t safe.
Anybody.
Raynor wants to catch those renegades and throw them in jail.
I offered to help.”
“There’s more to this than you’re telling me,” Lexie said determinedly.
“Right now all I want to do is get Curly Wythecomb a dairy cow.
You want to help me?”
Seeing she’d exhausted any hope of further discovery, Lexie gave in gracefully.
“All right.
Afterwards, are you going to see Pa?”
“I can’t very well leave without saying something to him,” Harrison muttered.
“Of course I’m going to see him.”
“You know what I mean.”
Yes, he knew.
Since Eliza’s death, Harrison’s father had sunk into a depression that seemed to have no bottom.
Harrison, Tremaine, Samuel, Lexie, and even Billy had all had to pitch in and help maintain the farm because Joseph had simply ceased to care.
Billy came to help Lexie down from the wagon, and the three of them selected a young, healthy jersey and loaded her into the back of the wagon.
Billy, who never felt comfortable inside the Danner home, stayed with the animals while Harrison and Lexie, by unspoken agreement, walked together to the house.
Wiping his feet on the mat outside the front doors, Harrison heard voices from inside.
Tremaine’s and his father’s and someone else’s: a woman.
“Is that Mrs.
Mead?” he asked Lexie.
Lexie shook her head.
“I doubt it.
Pa can barely stand the woman.
She was Mother’s choice as a housekeeper.”
“Then who…?”
Pushing open the door, Harrison allowed Lexie to precede him.
Before he could even draw a breath, he encountered Miracle’s turquoise eyes.
She was seated at the dining room table, next to his father, and she was smiling at something he’d said.
Seeing Harrison, her smile vanished, however.
She actually frowned and turned away.
He felt sick with self-disgust.
Joseph turned slightly and Harrison’s jaw dropped.
There was a flush to his cheeks that had been missing since Eliza’s death, a sparkle to his eyes.
Tremaine, who had been standing to one side surveying the proceedings, lifted his brows to Harrison and Lexie, as if to say, “How do you like this?” and for some reason, Harrison was irritated.
“What’s going on?” he demanded.
“Miracle was just telling me about her Uncle Horace,” Joseph said, his voice changing as if he’d just remembered himself.
Instantly he grew sober once more, his eyes clouding.
Harrison could have kicked himself.
“Miracle’s Uncle Horace is quite a character,” Tremaine drawled, smoothing out the moment.
“He has a story for everything.”
“Does he?” Lexie moved over to the table, her own smile appearing.
“Tell me one of them?”
Miracle’s lashes fluttered as if she were embarrassed.
“Well, he likes to tell the story of my brother, Blue, who tried to cut out my heart when I was only a few day’s old.
He makes him out to be a warrior, ready to kill anyone who crossed his path.”
Harrison scowled.
“You never mentioned your brother.”
“I’ve never met him.” She arched a brow at Harrison, then turned to Lexie.
“The Chinooks are not a warlike people.
I wouldn’t believe the story at all, but I do have a scar, and Aunt Emily, Uncle Horace’s sister who never lies, swears that Blue stabbed me.
Uncle Horace and Aunt Emily knew my mother, but she died when I was born.”
“And they raised you, then?” Lexie asked.
“I was sort of raised by other members of the tribe, but I spent most of my time around whites.
Uncle Horace and Aunt Emily took me in when I was about nine.”
“Then you became a medicine woman,” Joseph said.
“Fascinating.
I used to be a doctor, like my son.”
“You never told me your father was a doctor,” Miracle said to Harrison, a smile playing on her lips.
“Didn’t I?
It must have slipped my mind.”
Lexie stared in amazement at Harrison’s cool tone.
Glancing thoughtfully at her father, then Miracle, then Harrison, she said to Tremaine, “I’ve got to take Curly Wythecomb a dairy cow, then I’d like to get home.
You ready to go?”
“I’ll take the cow to Curly,” Harrison interrupted.
“I’ve got to take Miracle back,” said Tremaine.
“Would it be all right if Harrison drives you to Rock Springs?” Lexie asked Miracle in all innocence.
“He can drop the jersey off on the way.”
Harrison regarded his meddling sister with tight-lipped fury.
He didn’t want to be alone with Miracle.
He’d damn near raped her, and twice made a lustful fool of himself.
No, he didn’t want to be anywhere near her.
“Stay for dinner,” Joseph invited Miracle, and there was a touch of anxiety in his voice, as if he couldn’t bear her leaving.
“Mead can set another place.”
“Mead” puffed into the room at that moment, her beady eyes full of reproofs as they fell on Miracle.
She held her tongue, however.
Since Eliza Danner’s death her position in the household had changed, and she couldn’t force her will on the rest of the family as easily.
“Miracle and Harrison will be staying for dinner, Mrs.
Mead,” Lexie told her sweetly.
“But Tremaine and I have to leave.
Please tell Cook.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She steamed back out of the room, her back ramrod straight, her black dress fairly shivering with disapproval.
Miracle had to fight down a smile at Lexie’s cool, take-charge attitude.
After the way Mrs.
Mead had treated her, she was glad someone had put the prejudiced old harridan in her place.
But then she slid a look at Harrison through her lashes, and her good mood evaporated.
Could anyone look more stern?
His face was granite hard, his lips tight.
It was clear he didn’t want to be stuck with her tonight.
She wasn’t willing to be his mistress, so he didn’t want her.
¤ ¤ ¤
Dinner was a strange, tense affair, with Joseph Danner sinking into a deep, dark gloom, and Harrison futilely trying to rescue him.
Miracle, who’d opted for silence rather than say anything to worsen Harrison’s mood, realized she’d made a serious and selfish mistake by accepting Tremaine’s invitation.
Harrison certainly didn’t want her here, and his irritation wasn’t helping Joseph.
“Tell me about the Danners,” she suggested, then could have cut out her tongue as she heard Harrison’s sharp intake of breath.
The topic could only bring Joseph pain.
Yet there was no point in trying to avoid the subject of Eliza’s death.
It was obviously consuming Joseph, so it was better to talk it out than tiptoe around it.