Dakota Father. Linda Ford
Who was crazy? Were they a threat to her? Or more importantly, Meggie? Then she followed Paquette into a room and her questions were forgotten.
“Need cleaning, it.”
Jenny almost laughed at Paquette’s understated words. From what she could see the room served as a catchall for both farm and home. Bits of wood were scattered on one side along with hammer, saw and nails. As if a building project had come to a halt at that very spot. As obviously it had. The walls were unfinished uprights. The window only roughly framed. It looked like the abandoned building materials had served as a magnet to other forgotten items—an overcoat, foot warmers, a bundle of canvas….
She shuddered. She and Meggie were expected to sleep here?
“Boss man sleep bunkhouse. Wit de men, him. For long time now. Since—” She didn’t finish.
Another secret. “Since when, Paquette?”
Paquette shook her head and backed from the room. “You be fixing room, no?”
Jenny understood she would be getting no answers from Paquette. All she could do was keep her eyes open and be alert to anything out of the ordinary. In the meantime…
She stared at the room. Only one way to get it ready for habitation…start hauling out stuff. She cleared a spot for Meggie in the center of the bed, retrieved her bags and found a little blanket for the baby to sit on. She pulled out the little rag doll Lena had so lovingly stitched and settled Meggie to play.
As she worked, words raced through her head—crazy, warning, mistake. There were far too many unanswered questions for her to feel safe. She heard the sound of horse hooves and picked her way across the room to the window in time to see Burke ride away, his well-worn cowboy hat pushed low on his head, leaning forward as if anxious to be away from this place. She shivered. Should she be afraid of him?
He turned, saw her at the window. His gaze drilled into her, dark, powerful, full of—
She jerked back and pressed her palm to her throat.
Promise? Hope? Or was it despair? Warning?
Was she seeing things she wanted to or things that were real?
In a flash she thought of the way he watched her on the train. Had he been kind or something sinister? No. He’d been kind and polite. Her imagination was simply getting out of control. He’d defended her before the others in the train. He’d helped her with her bags.
And he’d warned her not once but twice that she didn’t belong here.
Why? What lay behind his warning? Kindness or something else? What secret lay behind his not being married?
Sufficient to the day is the trouble thereof.
Pa’s oft-spoke words released her tensions and she laughed. None of those things mattered. She had a task to do and she would do it. She would keep her promise to Lena and Mark.
Meggie had fallen asleep, the rag doll clutched in one hand.
While she slept, Jenny quickly changed into a dark skirt and a wrinkled shirtwaist. It could do with ironing but at least it was clean and considerably cooler than her traveling outfit. Then she surveyed the room. There was nothing she enjoyed more than a task of significance and this was a big one. She tackled the job with vigor, singing softly as she worked.
Burke rode for half an hour, a leisurely, enjoy-the-quiet type ride. Out here he found peace and solitude—something he feared he would not find at home in the future.
He reached the spring Mac had expressed concern about, took his shovel and attacked it, tossing out heaps of dirt. The work did its job—releasing the tension that started at the first sight of Jenny in his house, and built steadily throughout her announcement that Lena and Mark had died until it peaked when she informed him she would stay. He should have insisted she leave. Before this country sent her screaming into the distance.
He paused to suck in air. Lena was dead. Her husband, too. He let sorrow drench his pores, let it ease out in the sweaty drops beading his skin. He would miss her.
The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.
He would not finish the sentence…blessed be the name of the Lord. The taking held no blessing in his opinion. Only regret and sorrow. Deep sorrow.
He returned to digging out the hole until water broke loose and flowed freely into the shallow pit he’d fashioned last year. At the scent and sound of water, a nearby cow bellowed and headed toward him. The call echoed across the short grass and was picked up and passed along by other cows until he could see them running like a living, shrinking circle.
The first cow saw him and balked. A human on foot made her nervous.
He obligingly swung into the saddle.
The cow tossed her head and raced onward, her calf skipping at her side.
The herd neared. As they crowded in for water, he smiled. A man could forget his troubles out here.
And just like cows heading for water his thoughts headed for home. What was he going to do about Jenny? She didn’t belong out in this country. But he couldn’t seem to persuade her otherwise. And until he did, he was stuck with her.
How could he best prove to her he didn’t need her?
He thought of little Meggie crying and struggling in his arms and amended his question—he didn’t need her for long.
He considered his options. First, he didn’t want any pretty young woman languishing out here in order to care for Meggie. He would manage her care. All he had to do was give her a few days to get used to him and then he would simply take her with him as he worked. She’d grow up as his sidekick.
Someone to share his life with. The idea gave him a jolt of pleasure.
Carefully, he laid out his plan. A few days for her to get to know him, and then they’d ride and work together.
And Jenny could return to her safe home back east. Before it was too late.
That settled, he reined around and headed back to the ranch. Paquette would wonder at him returning before suppertime but he figured the sooner he got working on his plan, the sooner it would be fulfilled.
A few minutes later, he strode toward the house, trying to think how he should start getting to know Meggie. Only two years old. No doubt shy. Certainly frightened. Like a barn kitten seeing a human up close for the first time. He’d tame Meggie the same way…slow, patient and with…he laughed. Doubted she would like milk straight from the cow in a warm stream. What did a child like? Perhaps Paquette would know.
He slipped inside. The kitchen was empty but sounds came from the far side of the house. He followed the voices around the house and stopped short at what he saw.
Jenny stood before a stack of boards and blankets, boots and saws all in a heap fifty feet from the house. She’d taken off the ridiculously impractical thing she wore on her arrival and wore an ordinary shirt and skirt. Not that he thought it changed who she really was.
She spoke to Paquette. “I’m sure it can be arranged for someone to haul this stuff away where it will pose no threat to a small child.”
Paquette stood on the veranda shaking her head and making disapproving noises. “Boss not like stuff throw out like dis.”
“Meggie and I can’t sleep in the midst of debris and dirt. She’s a baby. She needs a safe, clean environment.”
Burke sighed and filled in the other things Jenny no doubt figured Meggie needed—things like neighbors, church, town activities, pretty clothes. He’d heard it all. Tried to convince Flora those things weren’t necessary but it was the land itself that defeated him. Flora thought the prairies desolate; the wind haunting. She swore they would drive her mad.
She was right in the end.
But he would teach Meggie to be different.
He