High Country Bride

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He’d loved his wife. He really had. Joanna stared at him, transfixed by the shadows that seemed to surround him, by the slump of defeat of his invincible shoulders and the hurt rolling off him like dust in a newly tilled field.

She could see as plain as day what she’d done. Had there been another woman in this lovely house he’d built for her since her death? Probably not. He’d simply walked with no warning into the kitchen from his work in the barn to see a woman standing where his wife had once stood, cooking his breakfast.

Sympathy flooded her. Joanna hung her head, staring at her scuffed and patched shoes dusty from the dry Montana dirt. What she’d done with the best of intentions must have cut him to the soul.

How did she make this right? Would it be cruel to try to stay and work off what she owed him, and put him through this kind of remembering? Or was it better to pack up the children and leave? Which would be the best thing to do? There had been a time in her life when she would have turned to the Lord through prayer for an answer.

Now, she merely felt the puff of the hot breeze against her face and the muddle of agony in her middle. It was strange that Aiden’s hurt was so strong she could feel it as easily as the ground beneath her feet.

“Why’s he so mad, Ma?” James asked quietly, his hand tight in hers.

“He’s had a great loss.”

“Oh. Does that mean he had a funeral?”

“Yes.”

“He’s sad. Like I was when Pa died.” James’s breathing caught in a half sob, and he fell silent.

Joanna had never known that kind of sorrow, one that was deep and strong enough to have broken a person in two. Out of respect for Aiden’s privacy, she turned away. She made her feet carry her forward, past the garden and those tender parched plants, and she did not look back. Although not looking made no difference. She could feel the powerful image of him standing motionless while the bacon popped and the eggs cooked in that lovely kitchen he’d no doubt built with love and his own two hands.

As Aiden set several biscuits on a platter, Finn banged in from the lean-to wearing his barn clothes and a scowl. His brother took one look at the buttery biscuits and the fluffy eggs on the table and shook his head.

“What did I tell you?” he grumbled as he poured himself a cup of tea. “Hooks.”

Guess there was no need to mention who had cooked breakfast. And a mighty fine one, too, judging by the smell of things. He’d loved Kate dearly, but she was not a good cook—not even a passable one. But Joanna, why, she could put his ma to shame in a cooking contest.

“I’m just glad not to have to fix breakfast,” he told his brother. It was partly the truth—close enough—but not the whole truth. It still hurt to remember how she’d been standing at the fancy range he’d ordered in to surprise his wife.

“This is how it starts.” Finn’s scowl turned to a grimace as he drew a chair back with his boot and slumped into it. “She’s gettin’ into your good graces. Treating you to a meal so you can see what a good wife she’d make.”

“I suppose the fact that she’s been living without paying rent on the back pasture, and wanted to do something in return, has little to do with it.” Now that Aiden’s mind had cleared, and the agony was gone from the empty place in his chest where his heart used to be, he could see what she might have been doing. For some reason he didn’t want to think too hard on, he could understand Joanna Nelson pretty easily.

He slid the platter into the warmer—food he intended to take over to the children later. “She’s just doing what she can. Heaven knows I could use having my load lightened a bit.”

Finn, as usual, either ignored the comment or didn’t figure it applied to him. “See? That’s how it’ll go. Next thing you know, she’ll have this house spick-and-span and her brats—”

“That’s enough, Finn.” Aiden reached for the teapot. “Mind your manners. Those are good kids.”

“—living in the upstairs bedrooms. Watch.” Finn took a loud slurp from his cup. “Open your eyes now and smarten up, Aiden. Stop her while you can, otherwise you won’t know what hit you. You’ll have a wedding ring on your finger and three more mouths to feed, and she’ll be gettin’ a free ride.”

If there was something he couldn’t imagine, it was a woman like Joanna behaving in such a way. No, she was quality—simple as that. A real good, hardworking, God-fearing woman. Aiden rolled his eyes and carried his steaming cup to the table. “I don’t want you talking about her like that.”

“Sure, don’t listen.” Finn was already crunching on the bacon Joanna had fried up. “You’ll see that I’m right.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something? How about grace?”

“Why bother?”

Aiden shook his head. The boy was never going to learn. “You might not want to believe in God, but that doesn’t keep Him from believing in you. Sit up straight, stop chewing and bow your head.”

Finn’s grimace darkened but he did as he was told.

“Dear Father,” Aiden began, bowing his own head and folding his hands. “Please bless this meal we are about to receive. Thank you for your bounty and keep us mindful of our blessings—”

“Amen,” Finn interrupted, with the intent to end the blessing, as if that was about all the religion he could take on an empty stomach.

One day, Finn was going to learn, but in the meanwhile, Aiden added a silent prayer. Lord, please watch over Joanna Nelson and her children. Show me the right way to manage this. “Amen.”

He opened his eyes, and saw Finn already biting into one of the biscuits, moaning because it was so good. Aiden didn’t need to take a bite to know that for himself. The buttery fragrance was making his stomach rumble. He reached for one and broke it open. Light and fluffy, better than even Ma could make.

There, out the window, he could see Joanna crossing the lawn toward the barn. She was walking with a fast stride, her head down, her shoulders set. She looked like one determined woman. One who always did the best she could.

Odd how he could see her so clearly. He slathered butter on the biscuit and took a bite—sheer perfection. No doubt about that. Finn was already digging into the scrambled eggs, and so Aiden did, too. They were light and fluffy, with plenty of flavor. Saying she had a gift for cooking would have been an understatement.

He chewed and chased it down with a gulp of tea, watching as Joanna disappeared into the barn. He stood up, wishing he could take his plate with him.

“Don’t you do it, Aiden,” Finn warned, as if he were about to take a plunge headfirst off a cliff. “Don’t you ask her to stay and cook for you.”

“Mind your own business.” Aiden didn’t look back. He was in no mood to put up with his slacker of a brother, who did the least he could get by with. “I expect you to take a page from her book and work harder at earning your keep around here.”

Finn grumbled something, but Aiden gave the lean-to door a slam so he wouldn’t hear it. That boy could get his dander up in three seconds flat. Maybe because there wasn’t an ounce of appreciation for the roof over his head.

“Joanna?” He wasn’t surprised to find her at the end stall, where he’d stabled her two horses. “Don’t trouble yourself with the team. I’ll bring them out after I’m through with breakfast.”

“I would like to get a good start on the day.” She gave the lead rope a twist to release it, and tried to back the old work horse into the aisle. “I have the wagon packed, so ten more minutes and we will be on our way.”

“To where, Joanna?”

“I shall figure that out on the way there.” She gave the gelding’s halter a gentle tug. “C’mon, boy. Back up. C’mon.”

Aiden laid the flat of his hand on the horse’s rump, stopping him before he could move. “I didn’t mean to run you off. I never should have spoken to you like that. I was surprised to see you there. Unprepared.”

“I understand.” She still wouldn’t look at him. “I overstepped my welcome. I only meant to do you a kindness, to pay back how you’ve been kind to us.”

“I know that. I’ve been a widower a long time. Maybe too long.” Pressure built in his chest, directly behind his sternum, making it hard to talk. Hard to feel. Hard to do anything. “I didn’t mean to be so harsh.”

“I said I understand.” She sounded a little firm herself.

He hated that he’d done that to her. “That was Kate’s kitchen. I wasn’t prepared to see—” His throat closed up. The rest of him did, too.

“Another woman standing in her place.” Joanna finished for him.

Amazing that she could know that. Amazing that she could see what no one—not even his family—could understand.

“Don’t worry, Aiden. I didn’t mean to make you remember something that brings you so much pain. I intended to be leaving, anyway. I have a debt to you, and I will pay it. One way or another, you can be sure of that. Now, if you’d let me take my horse, I’ll be on my way.”

She was such a little bit of a thing, frail for all her strength. There was a world of fortitude in the set of her chin and the steel of her spine, but it wasn’t right to send her off just because it would be best for him.

No, that wouldn’t be right at all. He squeezed his eyes shut for just a moment, trying to listen to common sense, or maybe to that voice from heaven giving him a little direction. Just one word came to mind. “Stay.”

Chapter Five

Had she heard him right? Joanna’s fingers slipped from the halter. Dancer stared at her, patiently swishing his tail, as if there was no explanation in his mind to her behavior.

In truth, she couldn’t explain why Aiden’s kind request turned her to stone. Or why the feeling was worse than the fear gathered up inside her like a hive of angry bees. Being alone in this wide world was not a comfort. But neither was accepting a good man’s charity. All she had to remember was the look of horror and hurt on his handsome face to know the right thing to do. “I’d best take the children and move along. You don’t truly want me here.”

“No,” he agreed. “You’re right about that. But you owe me, Joanna. I expect us to be squared up before you head off. I don’t think I’ll get what you owe me otherwise.”

“You’re worried that I won’t keep my word?” Her throat felt tight, her eyes hot.

“Absolutely. You might be the kind of woman who means to keep her promises, but there’s no saying what will happen to you once you’re off this land. Hardships come along, as both of us well know.”

Kindness rang in his voice like the toll of a church bell. Like salvation on Sunday morning. “Yes,” she said quietly. “There is no telling what’s up ahead of any of us.”

“You might get in a worse situation. Or can’t find a job, like you haven’t found one in these parts. Then where will I be?” Aiden came close, close enough so that she could see the goodness in the man. Down deep and all the way to his soul.

Oh, she could see what he was up to, finding a way to keep her here without her pride getting in the way. Making it seem as if it was her duty to stay. When the truth was this had to be costing him something terrible.

She swallowed hard against the pride building in her throat. “So this is about money.”

“It is.” The softness in his eyes—and the sadness—said something different.

So did the twist of her soul. She was awestruck by this man’s generosity. She was touched by the chance he was offering her. “What will it take for me to pay back what I owe you?”

“I’d expect meals cooked or at least made up ahead. Maybe some cleaning and laundry. Heaven knows the garden needs someone interested enough to tend to it every morning.”

“Heaven knows,” she agreed, understanding a deeper meaning. He was offering a hand to a drowning woman. She thought of the hot dusty miles, the crack in Dancer’s left front hoof, the weeks—maybe months—on the road and how hard that would be on the children. She would have to travel until she found work. Who knew how long or how far away that would be? Times were hard in Montana, true, but the drought had stretched beyond the territory’s borders.

“At harvest’s end, you and I will talk. If we can find you a paying job for a few hours a week, which I think I can do, then you ought to be set to move on then, wherever you have a mind to.” His jaw tensed, betraying him.

This wasn’t easy for him. Nor was it for her. She took a ragged breath. The gelding lipped her bonnet brim, and she rubbed her hand along his warm, sleek neck. How could she say no? She’d be able to work off what she owed Aiden. She’d have a real roof over the children’s heads and a stable for the horses. The crack in Dancer’s hoof might have time to grow out. She might have the chance to work for cash in her pocket. Money for good meals and new shoes for the little ones. A little savings to put by for a trip.

He was offering her so much. But saying nothing about himself, about how hard this would be for him. That meant staying was not the right answer, either. Yet it was best for her children. She thought of James and the unspoken sadness in his eyes at having to leave another house. She thought of Daisy, too little to understand, but needing security and comfort all the same. Joanna thought of how hard she had wished for just one chance to improve her life. This was certainly a chance she had to take.

Then she studied the man in front of her. His eyes were dark and bleak. His presence like stone, cold and remote.

“How can I say yes?” she said into the silence that had grown between them. “My being here upsets you.”

“I know.” His hands curled into fists. “But I have my sense of duty.”

“You pity me. That’s not reason enough.” Everything within her longed to stay. To repay him for his kindness at giving them lodging and supper. To have the chance to provide better for her children. But at what cost to him? “I saw you in the kitchen after we left you. I’ve never seen that kind of emotion.”