Chasing Clovers (21 page)

Did
she love her mother? She didn't know. They barely spoke, and when her mother wasn't working she was passed out from all the liquor she'd consumed. The woman never taught her anything, other than to depend on yourself for what you want. She wasn't shown how to behave toward others, how to dress, or talk properly.

And if it wasn
't for Sam the bartender, she still wouldn't know. He used to bring in his daughter's old dresses for her to wear, instead of the rags her mother had let her run around in. Sam would sit with her for hours, teaching her how to read and write. He told her that if you can't read you may as well be blind. But even with the old man's kindness, she would've traded that life for one that was normal, like the one John led with his children.

She
was fifteen when her mother died of pneumonia. Scared, and with nowhere to go, she remembered begging the woman not to die. Not to leave her. Her mother was all she'd ever known, all she had. But her pleas were not heard, and her mother died a few hours later.

Still living at the saloon, she
began singing for its patrons instead of selling her body as her mother had. When Emma was born, she sold her mother's jewelry, and with the few dollars Sam had given her, she left town.

She tried finding a respectable job, but with Emma to care for, and no one willing to give her a chance, she was forced back into the saloon to sing for her money. She strived to b
e everything her mother was not. She wanted nothing more than to give Emma the things she never had.

She
blew out a frustrated breath as she paced the floor admitting she cared for John.
Why did I have to lie to him?
Even as she asked the question, she knew the answer. She was ashamed and humiliated. John was a proud man. She knew that much about him.

Would he be any different than those who had ridiculed her? Those who refused to walk on the same side of the street as her? If she told him the truth about Emma, and the circumstances that led up to her birth, would he understand? Would he profess his undying love? Would he tell her it didn
't matter what had happened before, he knew her now and wanted to be with her?
The answer was simple. No. He'd be angry that she'd lied to him, and tell her to leave.

She
didn't want to leave the ranch. She felt wanted and needed here. To have to go would mean returning to her old life. Something she vowed never to do again. Tears poured from her eyes. How was she ever going to make this right? How was she going to come clean with all the lies?

"
Miss Livy?" Ben asked.

Looking up at the child, she saw the concern on his small face.

"
Are you okay?"

She wi
ped her face, and forced her lips to smile at the boy. "I'm fine." She didn't see Emily until she peeked around her brother. Her cheeks, muddy from playing outside, were streaked with tears. Concerned, Livy went to her. "What's wrong?" she asked, kneeling down in front of her and Ben.

"
Em fell off the swing," he told her.

"
Oh." She sat there a moment, frozen with fear.
What should I do?
Her hand trembled as she reached out and took the little girl's hand in her own. Soft and pudgy, the child's hand clasped onto hers. Livy cleared away the lump in her throat as she tugged on Emily's hand, pulling her closer.

"
I want Pa," Emily cried.

"
Let's have a look, shall we?" She led Emily to the table, and sat her down on a chair where she examined her scraped knees. "A little soap and water and they'll be as good as new."

She cautiously
eyed the girl. Livy smiled. Soft blue eyes held hers, and she felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Still unsure around the child, at least now she was able to look at her and not see Emma's face. Blinking back more tears, she went to the bucket of water on the counter. It was empty. John had dumped it on her finger earlier.

"
Ben, could you please sit with your sister while I pump some more water into the bucket."

Ben sat next to Emily and took her hand in his.

"
Thank you," she said while dunking a cloth into the water. She wrung it out, and went to Emily. "Okay, let's get you all fixed up." She knelt in front of her. Careful not to hurt her, Livy dabbed at the dry blood on her tiny knees.

Sniffling, and biting her bottom lip,
Emily sat still as Livy cleaned her wounds.

"
There. You're as good as new," she said.

But instead of getting off the chair, the child sat there and shook
her head. Confused, Livy looked at Ben, who was watching them.

"
I think she wants you to kiss it better like Pa always does," he said.

Livy hesitated. S
he didn't know if she could do it. Her heart raced inside her chest. Her hands now clammy and shaking, she tried to swallow.
She is not Emma. She is only a child, John's child
. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she bent and kissed the little girl's knee. Surprised that the show of affection wasn't at all difficult, nor was it followed by a breathing attack. Helping Emily down off the chair, she was overcome with emotion when the child wrapped her pudgy arms around her neck and hugged her.

"
C'mon, Em," Ben said, pulling on his sister's arm. "Let's go find clovers."

Still on her knees, Livy watched as they ran outside. Her insides raw, she wrapped her arms around her middle, and rocked back and forth on her heels, trying to hold back all the emotions that had begun to surface. She let the tears fall, washing her, cleansing her. The girl, Emily, had hugged her. She could still feel the warmth of her arms as they clasped around her. The tears that fell from her eyes could not be stopped, and she realized what a fool she had been to deny the child as long as she had.

Emily
had nothing to do with Emma. She was innocent. Sobbing now, she thought of her baby. She was gone and would never come back to her. She'd never hug her, or kiss her again, and she mourned for her, longed for her.

Livy
thought she'd never be able to care for another person after Emma had died, but coming here had changed all that. She cared for John, and Ben, and now found that she cared for his daughter as well. Overwhelmed, she let her heart open to these feelings. She let the grief and agony dwindle and seep from her. Drip from her, as the tears fell. She'd always love her daughter, always miss her. She knew that the guilt would never leave her. But something had happened here today, and she accepted it.

Her heart ached, and her chest was tight. Gasping she fought the panic as it came, refusing to give in to it anymore. St
ill rocking back and forth, she released the demon that had held her captive for the last year. She expelled the anguish, misery, and torment she had been suffering. Letting it all out, she cried, and cried, and cried.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

John came into the kitchen for breakfast. He was excited to see Livy, especially after she'd told him about her mother. He smiled. It was like unwrapping a present. The more paper he took off, the closer he got to knowing who she was, the real prize. Under her tough exterior was a kind, soft-hearted woman, and he was happy he'd picked her to be his wife. Even if he never loved her, he did admit to caring for her, and that was damn well better than nothing at all.

When he came into the kitchen, he was surprised to see Boots sitting at his table with a plate of steaming flapjacks in front of him. The lawman was too busy eyeballing Livy to look up when he entered the room.

He
shook his head. "Boots, I didn't figure I'd see you for a few days," he said, as he bent and kissed Emily's head. "Mornin' pumpkin."

His daughter smiled up at him, her face messy with syrup.

"
Well Taylor, I'm just doin' my job," Boots said, still staring at Livy.

"
Yeah, I can see that," he mumbled, pulling back a chair to take a seat.

Livy walked
toward him holding a vase full of wild flowers that she placed on the table.

"
Where did you get those?" he asked, staring at the white daisies, honeysuckle, and pink roses that filled the kitchen with a sweet fragrance.

"
Boots brought them. Aren't they lovely?" she hummed, her voice cheery.

He
eyed the sheriff who was smiling up at Livy like a love sick-school boy. "Yeah, lovely."

"
After the nice breakfast Miss Livy fed me yesterday, I felt the need to repay her." The man shrugged as he continued, "These flowers are a small token."

"
Well, I love flowers." Livy said to the children. "Isn't that right?"

"
Yup, she sure does," Ben piped up, "Em and me picked her flowers when she hurt her leg and she sure liked 'em."

"
Yes, I did." She ruffled Ben's hair.

John
didn't like them. But nobody seemed to give a damn about what he thought. His mood turned sour as he watched Livy fuss over the flowers on the table. Ah hell, he'd never made her smile like that. What if he wanted to give her flowers? The damn lawman beat him to it. John glared at him across the table. What the hell was Boots giving Livy flowers for anyway?

"
Have you found anything out yet?" he asked gruffly.

"
Nope, need a few more days."

"
How many is a few?"

"
Three or four." Boots stuffed his fat face full of pancakes.

"
Last I checked a few meant two."

Boots shrugged.

If he didn
't take his eyes off of Livy soon, John was going to come across the table at him. "Well maybe you should be workin' instead of eatin'."

"
John," Livy said to him before turning her attention back to Boots. "You're always welcome, Sheriff."

"
Why, thank you, ma'am," Boots grinned up at her.

The two of them seemed to
be in a world of their own. He had seen enough. Pushing his plate away, he got up. "I have work to do." Not bothering to say goodbye, he slammed the door on his way out.

Still hungry, John
decided to walk over to the cook shack to eat with the hands. He knew if he stayed in the kitchen any longer, Boots would be clutching a broken nose. The air was crisp, and he breathed it in. Soon it would be fall. He stared at the trees surrounding the cook shack. The leaves were a vibrant green now, but in a few weeks they would turn rust and gold and fall to the ground as the giant elms went to sleep for the winter. He loved fall as a child, because that meant winter was on its way.

Smil
ing, he remembered building a snow man every year with his Pa, and dressing it in an old scarf and a beat up Stetson. They'd hunt for hours to find two eyes and a nose for their frozen friend, often ending their day with a snowball fight. The tradition carried on to his children. Ben and Emily loved winter as much as he did.

In the colder months,
he seemed to have more time to spend with his children. He wasn't stuck in the fields for days, or busy preparing for a cattle drive.

The cook shack wa
s littered with tables when he entered. He was soon comforted by the loud chatter of his men as they ate their breakfast. Heading straight for Ezekiel, who stood behind a long table, John grabbed a plate and waited for the cook to serve him.

"
Boss?" Ezekiel asked, "Everthin' okay?"

"
Yup," John answered, already regretting leaving his earlier meal when he glanced down at the runny oatmeal on his plate. Taking a seat next to Clive, he ignored the look his foreman gave him.

"
She burnt the food again?" Clive asked.

"
Nope, don't like the company that it came with."

"
Miss Green's?"

"
Sheriff Bootly's."

"
He's here again? I thought he'd be back in a few days."

"
So did I."

"
Did he find anything out?"

"
Nope." John wasn't in the mood to talk about the sheriff.

"
Well, then why is he here?"

"
He brought Livy flowers."

Clive laughed.

"
What's so funny?"

"
Oh, I get it."

He glanced up at his friend. "Get what?"

"
You're jealous," he said, over a mouthful of food.

"
You're crazy."

"
It's as plain as day."

"
I am not jealous."

"
Boots is sweet on Miss Livy," he pointed the shiny spoon at him, "and you don't like it."