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She drew back to one of the mismatched chairs around the table and watched Buck sponge Joey, murmuring softly as he worked, sometimes in foreign sounding words. All the while, Joey watched him with utmost faith.
Kathleen knew for a fact a man who could earn such trust from a child was a man worthy of the same kind of trust from others. Yet there was something about him that put Rosie on edge. What could it possibly be?
Buck wondered about the young woman watching him. She didn’t seem the kind who normally hung out with Rosie, nor visited in a shack barely big enough for a family. He looked about the room. A battered wooden table. Mismatched chairs. A stove and one cupboard in the kitchen area. Beyond, a rocking chair and a small bookshelf containing two books and a basket of mending. One door next to the bookshelf where Rosie hovered, her eyes guarded. His visit would seriously crowd the place, though the floor provided more than enough room for the pair of them. In his twenty-two years he’d slept in far worse places.
Kathleen Sanderson. She’d said her name with pride and confidence of one familiar with respect. No doubt she would be shocked to learn his identity.
Nor did he intend she should. Marriage had provided Rosie with an escape and he didn’t plan to ruin things for her.
Being a cowboy, moving from job to job, had given him his only escape.
Kathleen leaned forward. “He’s certainly fond of you.”
Buck chuckled. “He’s smart enough to know where his next meal comes from.”
She blinked as if startled by his frank words. Then laughed. “You’re teasing, but I’d say it was more than that.”
He looked at Joey who watched him with those dark, unblinking eyes of his. “We’ve formed a sort of mutual admiration society, haven’t we, buddy?”
Joey nodded, his expression still solemn.
Buck cupped his son’s head and brushed his thumb along the boy’s cheeks. When had they shrunk so badly? “I’m sorry, little guy. I should have realized sooner just how sick you are.”
“He needs some nourishing broth.” Rosie sighed. “Guess I’ll have to get some.” She handed the baby to Junior. “You kids stay here and play.” Then she marched toward the stove and pulled a pot forward. “Good thing for you soup is about all we eat around here.”
Buck chuckled. “I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me for long.” He turned to Kathleen to explain. “She likes me a lot more than she lets on.”
“She hides it awfully well.” Her smile lit up her face, sent dancing lights into her blue eyes, riveting him motionless.
He studied her. Blond hair carefully pulled back in a wave ending in a roll at her neck. An oval face that belonged on a cameo, pretty pink lips. Everything about her said rich, refined.
What was she doing here?
Her cheeks blossomed rose color, and he realized he’d been staring and tore his attention away.
Rosie pulled a bowl from the cupboard and ladled in broth and bits of carrots. She set the bowl on the table. “Eat.”
Joey pressed into Buck’s chest. Buck understood his caution, fear even. He had plenty of reason for it. “Say ‘thank you, Aunt Rosie.’”
Joey shivered. But he must learn his manners, so Buck nudged him.
“Thank you, Auntie.” The boy’s normally soft voice crackled from the effects of his illness.
Rosie sat across the table. “You’re welcome.”
Buck pulled up to the table close to Kathleen. He knew Joey wouldn’t be comfortable sitting on a chair by himself, so he held him and encouraged him to eat.
“This is lots better than what I’ve been feeding you, isn’t it, buddy?”
“I like rabbit.” Joey’s firm tones informed everyone where his loyalty lay, and Buck chuckled.
“You’d say that if all we ate was gopher.”
“I like gopher, too.”
Buck laughed and scrubbed his knuckles across the boy’s head. “You ever tasted one?”
“Not yet.”
Kathleen’s soft laughter filled Buck’s senses. My, he did like a woman with a gentle laugh. “He’s determined to be loyal to you no matter what.”
Buck allowed himself a glance of acknowledgment and was immediately warmed by the admiration in her eyes. “He doesn’t know any better.”
“Yes, I do.”
Kathleen and Buck both laughed, sharing something more than enjoyment of Joey’s conviction. Something he couldn’t name, but it felt like a gift from God.
Strange. He hadn’t thought of God, or His gifts or anything of the sort for a long time.
Rosie leaned forward on her elbows. “So how did you and Joey find each other?”
“Bless you, Rosie.”
“For what?”
“For saying it like that.”
She shrugged. “I have never been able to stay annoyed with you.” She shifted her attention to Kathleen. “Does that make me weak?”
“No, Rosie,” Kathleen said gently. “It makes you a good sister.”
“She is that. We learned to stick together a long time ago, didn’t we, sister?”
“Then we found out we were better off not being together.” Her words contained more than a hint of warning. “Now tell us about Joey. Unless you’d rather wait.”
He understood her unspoken acknowledgment that he might prefer not to speak of it in Joey’s hearing. Or before her own children who hovered at the doorway, hearing and seeing everything. “He knows every detail already.”
“I was there,” Joey pointed out as if they might have forgotten.
Buck wished the little guy could have missed certain portions of the experience, but at least God had protected him. Again, he thought of God. Not once until now had he stopped to consider God protected Joey throughout an ordeal that might have ended much differently. Why was he suddenly realizing it?
He shifted so he could consider Kathleen out of the corner of his eyes. Something about her nudged him toward nobler, kinder thoughts than he’d enjoyed in a very long time.
What would she think after she heard Joey’s story?
Would she be repulsed? Warmed? He could only hope it would give both her and Rosie a kindly disposition toward his son.
Chapter Two
Kathleen leaned close, not wanting to miss a word of Buck’s explanation. Something about the fondness between Buck and Joey made her wonder if a heart could weep with emotion.
Buck settled back in his chair, a distant look in his eyes, as if he lived the past again. “It was a year ago this past spring and I was heading west. Heard a rancher out there needed a few more hands. Figured it was as good a place as any to find work. I rode up a little ridge and stopped to look around. Remember thinking the mountains made a mighty purty sight, glistening with their winter snowcaps under the bright sunshine. Then I brought my gaze closer to hand and saw what appeared to be the remains of a wagon accident. Rode on down to investigate.” He paused and swallowed hard.
Kathleen guessed what he’d found had been unpleasant.
“A man and his wife had been killed.”
“Bad man shoot Mama and Papa,” Joey said, his voice betraying a thread of sorrow.
“The woman was Indian, the man appeared to be a white miner. I gave them a decent burial and marked the place with fragments of their wagon. There were no papers, no identification. Everything had been picked through and scattered.”
“Man look for Papa’s money. Find it. Steal it.” As Joey listed the deeds he kept his attention on his bowl of soup, though he no longer lifted the spoon to his mouth.
Buck squeezed the back of Joey’s neck and the boy relaxed visibly. “I knew from the things left that a child had been with them. I hated the thought the murderers had taken him. It was late in the day so I made camp, intending to resume my journey in the morning. During the night I heard something or someone, but the intruder was gone as fast as he came.”
“I was hungry,” Joey explained.
Buck chuckled. “When I got up I knew no critter had been in my camp. Only things missing were biscuits and beans. So I hunkered down over my breakfast and studied the tracks. Knew it was a child. Guessed it was the one who’d been on the wagon.”
“I hide from bad man. Hide from Buck, too. I not know he not be a bad man.”
“Took me a few days to prove it. Then I headed to the nearest town. No one knew the dead family. No one knew Joey. He didn’t know of any family but his ma and pa. The sheriff made inquiries. But nothing. I asked the preacher what I should do and he said, why not adopt him? So I did.”
The way he grinned gave Kathleen an emptiness, as if her life lacked something. She tried valiantly to dismiss the feeling. After all, what could her life be lacking? Her parents provided her with everything she needed. She had been at finishing school getting a privileged education until her mother’s illness required she return home to help care for her. As soon as her mother felt better, she’d return to the Eastern college. She hadn’t been there long enough to make friends, but when she got back she would. God willing, she’d find a friend who would remain loyal throughout their years at college.
Above and beyond that, she had a living relationship with God. Had never doubted His love and care. Still, had she ever done anything half as noble as Buck had? Had she ever loved anyone like Buck loved Joey? Had she ever been loved like that? Yes, her parents loved her, she had no doubt, but it seemed their love carried heavy expectations.
Buck watched her. His eyes revealed understanding. Warmth.
As if he read her thoughts.
She ducked her head, amazed at how foolish she proved to be. Until this moment she considered herself a commonsense person who didn’t think or act rashly.
“Buck my papa.” Joey sounded so proud, Kathleen’s throat tightened.
She dare not look at Buck again, afraid of the way her emotions clogged her heart. Instead, she glanced at Rosie. When she saw the same glisten of tears in her eyes she felt in her own, she sniffed.
“Yes, I am. And you’re my son. Forever and always.”
Kathleen couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think beyond the stuffiness in her nose. Never before had she known such open affection between a man and his son … his adopted son, though she guessed he wouldn’t acknowledge any distinction. He seemed such a decent man.
Rosie blew her nose on a hankie. “You’re a good man, Buck, but it doesn’t change anything.”
Kathleen couldn’t imagine why Rosie was so fearful.
“I’m well aware of it. I’m only here until Joey is better.”
At that moment, Joey’s head nodded. Buck caught him before he planted his face in the bowl of soup. He lifted the boy, tossed his coat on the floor in the corner and was about to put Joey there.
Kathleen gave Rosie a hard look. “Are you going to let him sleep on the floor? The boy is sick. Besides—” she lowered her voice “—don’t you think he’s been through enough?”
Rosie lifted her hands in a sign of defeat. “I give up. Buck, use the room past the stove. It’s our bedroom, but I can’t bring myself to sleep there with Bill gone.”
Buck jerked to full attention. “He’s gone? How long ago?” He shifted his gaze to the children who played in the doorway.
“He left a few weeks ago to work in a logging camp. We came here expecting a job but it fell through. We can’t live in the camp so Bill left us here.” She glanced about. “This is a nice, solid little house.”
Buck let out a noisy gust. “I thought you meant he was gone … gone for good, as in … well, you know.”
Rosie grinned widely. “If you could see the look on your face …” She tipped her head back and looked pleased with herself. “I have to admit I enjoyed that. Sort of evens us up for you showing up at my door.”
Kathleen couldn’t read the look the two exchanged. Sharing a secret. She felt she intruded into their lives without invitation. She envied them their obvious affection. She wondered if they realized how blessed they were to have each other and their children.
“Consider us even, then. I’m happy to let you do so.” Buck shouldered his way into the room. A cold draft blasted through the kitchen.
Junior waited until Buck was out of sight. “Mama, do we have to stay here forever?”
Rosie crossed the room and took Lilly. “Come on over. It will soon be time for supper.”
Kathleen glanced out the window. Long shadows slanted across the skiff of snow. She jumped to her feet. “I’ve stayed far too long. Mother will be worrying.” Her coat hung near the stove and she shrugged into it, pulled on her fur hat and mittens.
Buck stood in the bedroom doorway, watching.
She felt his measured consideration. Determined to ignore him, she turned to Rosie instead. “I could come back tomorrow.” Perhaps Rosie wouldn’t welcome her company as eagerly now that her brother was there. “If you want.”
Rosie’s lips flattened. “Nobody’s forcing you to come.”
Kathleen refused to be offended by the woman’s remarks. In the few weeks she’d been visiting, she’d learned Rosie didn’t expect any offers of friendship. But Kathleen didn’t intend to be a fair-weather friend. She patted Rosie’s shoulder. “I only asked because I thought you might enjoy spending time alone with your brother.” For some insane reason her cheeks warmed. She could well imagine such pleasure.
Rosie nodded. “I’m sorry for being prickly. It’s just …” She darted a look toward Buck. The pair sent wordless messages to each other, then Rosie shrugged. “I’d be pleased if you’d come again.”
Kathleen understood Rosie’s caution. She, too, had learned to wonder if a friend would visit again. “I’ll be back. After all, we have that quilt to work on.” She’d noticed a shortage of warm bedding and offered to help Rosie sew a quilt. Rosie had scraps of material and Kathleen intended to supply a woolen batt.
Only when she reached the outer door did she allow herself to look directly at Buck. “It was nice meeting you, Mr.—” She realized he’d never given his surname.
He grinned. “Buck is name enough for me.”
“Nice meeting you, Buck.” She knew she blushed to speak so familiarly. Her parents would be shocked.
“My pleasure, Miss Sanderson.”
The way he said it made her cheeks grow even warmer.
She scurried out and rushed toward home. When had she ever had such a reaction to any man? Never. But then she’d never before met such a cowboy, never seen such a kind smile. Her feet slowed. What was she thinking?
Nothing. Nothing at all, except it would be nice for Rosie to have a man around to take care of filling the wood box and fetching water.
It would be equally as nice for Buck to have a place to care for his son.
