Desert Angel (20 page)

March’s gaze moved wistfully toward the closed door. “Wouldn’t it be nice, sometime when you’re so mad you don’t know what to do, to just start swinging?”

“I do,” Mazie confessed in a whisper. “When I’m so angry with Mr. Wright that I can’t stand another minute of it, I start swinging cabinet doors. There is something so satisfying about the bang of a door!”

March smiled, grateful that the woman had stepped in when she so badly needed someone.

“Now, let’s get back to important things like these buttons … and we can’t forget that I promised to show you those stockings.”

With her arm securely around March’s shoulders, Mazie ushered her toward the back of the store. She hovered around March protectively, her look daring anyone to make a comment of which she didn’t approve.

Finally relenting and letting the older woman hold Jamie, March was thoroughly intrigued by the stockings when Jim returned. She missed the exchange of looks between Mazie and Jim; his asking, hers reassuring.

“What did you find to spend your money on, angel?” Jim asked, startling March from her contemplation.

Scanning him from head to foot, she could find little evidence of his activities. His shirt had a streak of dirt that hadn’t been there earlier and his newly polished boots were dusty, but she sighed with relief not to discover bruises and blood.

“What’s this?” One eyebrow raised wickedly, Jim held up a gray stocking with lacy inserts at the ankle.

“That’s, um … that’s . . . “ March turned a fiery red as she stuttered in reply.

“I believe you know exactly what they are, young man,” Mazie scolded with a gleam twinkling in her faded brown eyes.

“I hate to correct a lady, but, Mazie, you’re wrong. I’ve never seen anything like this.” The intimate apparel was silky soft and the lacy inserts beckoned enticingly. It took little imagination to picture March’s shapely legs encased in the stockings.

“Well, when you get married again, you can buy your wife a pair as a wedding present.” She took the stockings from his hands and carefully replaced them.

“Would you like that for a wedding present, angel?” Jim asked softly.

Completely startled by the unexpected question, March could do little but shake her head. Since the fiasco with Fred Hamner, and with her parents as an example, marriage was not something she contemplated anytime in the near future … probably never.

Her amazement was overshadowed by his. Jim didn’t know where that question had come from, suddenly it was spoken and now he wondered why. He had no plans to remarry, once had been enough. Melanie had proven that the West was too hard on women, the responsibilities too great.

But March deserved the chance to marry and have a family of her own. She was a great house-

keeper and a wonderful mother. He enjoyed her sense of humor and respected her integrity. He could relax with her and not be concerned about saying or doing the wrong thing. She was a friend.

Suddenly, Jim realized that he didn’t like the idea of her leaving him to marry some stranger.

“Quit embarrassing the girl, Jim Travis,” Mazie scolded. “She’s had enough turmoil this morning without you agitating her more.”

“You’re right, Mazie. It’s my fault, I should never have left her alone.” He took March’s hand gently in his. “I apologize, angel. I knew how worried you were and I thought it was just your imagination. I arrogantly assumed that you’d come in here and nothing would happen, that you’d be surrounded by other ladies. I didn’t figure on Fred Hamner approaching you in public.

“I am deeply sorry that you had to face him alone.”

He was apologizing, openly, in view of several interested spectators. March had never, ever, heard of a man apologizing. It just didn’t happen. Men made decisions, and if those decisions were wrong, they never let anyone know they’d made a mistake. Never.

“Did you give your list to Walt?” he asked, before she could gather her scattered thoughts enough to respond to his apology.

“No — “ March bit her lip, after everything else that had happened, now she had to confess her greatest shame, that she could neither read nor write.

“Well dig it out and give it to him. We’ll go over to the cafe while he fills it, then come back and pick up your order and head on home.” Taking a deep breath, she raised her head proudly. “I don’t have a list.”

Staring into his warm blue eyes, she couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t do it. “You didn’t give me much time, rushing me out this morning.” It wasn’t a lie, exactly, she tried to convince herself. He did announce the trip to town this morning, allowing her barely long enough to prepare herself and Jamie.

“And you didn’t want to go,” he said softly. Tapping the end of her nose, Jim shook his head with regret. “No problem, we’ll still go eat and then come back, and you can just tell him what we need.”

March turned to take Jamie from a reluctant Mazie. “Why don’t you leave him here with me, while you eat?” Mazie asked hopefully. “I’d enjoy playing mama for an hour or so.”

“Well . . . “

“Sounds good, Mazie,” Jim interrupted before March could reply.

“He’ll need to be fed soon.” March wanted to grab the baby from the older woman’s arms. It was silly, she knew Mazie would take excellent care of the child, but she didn’t want to be parted from him even for a short time.

“That’s no problem. We’ve got all the fixings here in the store.”

March raised her gaze to Mazie’s. Mazie was aware that Jamie was Jim’s child, and that his mother had died giving him birth. March was about to confirm everything Fred had said, but Jamie was more important than any fear of gossip. “I nurse him.”

“Well, I’d say he’s a lucky baby to find a new mama so quickly after losing his own.” Mazie lifted the baby to her shoulder and softly patted his back. “He’s perfectly content now, and if he gets ornery before you get back, I’ll just fix him a sugar-tit. Now you two go enjoy your dinner.”

“Let’s go, angel, before our Good Samaritan discovers exactly how noisy one little boy can be and changes her mind.”

Jim placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. He was aware that she was completely off- balance. Too much had happened too quickly for her to absorb the repeated shocks. First she’d been forced to come into town, then he deserted her when she most needed his support; meeting the very man she wanted most to avoid and being accosted by him and then befriended by Mazie; admitting that she nursed Jamie and therefore confessing that she’d had a baby; being forced to leave Jamie in someone else’s care for the first time … no wonder she followed him docilely out the door.

Her acquiescent mood lasted throughout the meal, picking at the food placed before her.

They sat so that she could look out the window toward the mercantile. After repeated attempts to start a conversation and having her reply in monosyllables, Jim gave up and quickly ate his food. The sooner he finished, the sooner they could collect Jamie and leave.

He hoped that when they were out of town, March would rediscover her fiery nature. It wasn’t always comfortable to have to face her quick wit, but it was infinitely preferable to this lackluster woman sitting across from him.

He looked at her plate and saw that the food had been moved around from one place to another, but hardly eaten. “If you’re finished, we can go.”

“I’m finished.” March neatly folded her napkin and rose.

“He’s perfectly all right,” Jim teased as he escorted her across the street to the store.

“I know. Mazie wouldn’t let anything happen to him.” Her voice lowered, and she looked beseechingly at him. “I just want to go home.”

“You haven’t spent your money.” Jim opened the door and let her precede him inside.

March’s gaze scanned the room, searching for the baby. She relaxed slightly when she saw him still cuddled contentedly in Mazie’s arms, but nothing less than having him in her own embrace would satisfy her.

“I’ll send a man in with our list early in the week, Walt,” Jim stated as he watched March embrace the baby. “Just be sure to put in several cans of peaches. My housekeeper has a fondness for them.”

“Will do, don’t be so long in coming back to town. That little girl has had a raw deal. She needs to see that not everybody backs down to the Hamner’s money.” Walt’s warm brown eyes looked with concern toward March. He lowered his voice, so that his words would go no further than Jim’s ears. “Watch your back. Hamner ain’t going to be happy that you went after his son. He’s got a lot of people convinced that boy can’t do no wrong. And now that she’s embarrassed him, Fred’s going to be after March.”

“It’s going to be a good little while before Fred is going to want to be seen in public.” Rubbing his bruised knuckles, Jim’s anger flared as he remembered the vicious threats the younger man had offered during their confrontation.

“I’ll be careful, and I’ll alert my men to keep their eyes open.” His eyes darkened threateningly. “I protect my own. Anybody coming after that girl is going to have to go through me, and Breed’ll be at my back.”

“Good man to have guarding your back.”

“The best.”

Running his fingers through his thinning gray hair, Walt turned and scanned his shelves. “You say that little girl likes peaches?” He placed a can on the counter. “Take this home for her. Tell her it’s a gift from me. She made my Mazie ‘bout as happy as a June bug, letting her keep that boy for a spell.”

Jim accepted the gift for what it was, Walt’s own personal sign of approval. There would be others in town who would turn their noses up at March, but Walt and Mazie Wright wouldn’t be among them.

Holding the peaches, Jim watched as March approached. With the baby nestled in her arms, she should have looked like any other young mother, radiant with the glow of motherhood. But she wore a mantle of worry on her thin shoulders that marred the gentle warmth of her face.

“Ready?” he asked quietly. At her nod, Jim wrapped, his arm around her. “Let’s go home, angel.”

THIRTEEN

Too restless to sew, March sat in Jim’s study flipping through a book. He worked on some papers, seeming content to ignore her for now. The circles and lines on the stiff paper seemed to tease her, taunting her with the hidden mystery that she couldn’t decipher.

Frustration combined with her agitation until she felt ready to shatter into countless tiny pieces. She knew that sometime before they went to bed, Jim would expect an explanation for everything that had happened that day That would be intolerable enough, but this waiting for him to ask was unbearable. On the trip home from town, while she waited in dreadful anticipation, he had been strangely quiet. He hadn’t mentioned Fred Hamner or asked her to confirm or deny the many things Fred had said.

By the time they had reached the ranch, March’s edginess had been conveyed to Jamie, and the baby had become cranky and irritable. He had cried for hours and, making matters even worse, her milk hadn’t flowed easily, fore- ing the baby to nurse viciously and leaving her with sore nipples.

She had planned to stay in her room after feeding Jamie, but her restlessness had forced her to come downstairs or chance waking him. And as much as she loved him, right now a crying baby would be one straw too many in the haystack of misery surrounding her.

All told, it had been a miserable day, and now she sat with a book in her lap that she couldn’t read, and waited for Jim to begin.

Jim watched her fidget in her chair and knew that she was unaware that her repeated sighing had attracted his attention. “March?”

Looking up from the senseless pages, she felt her breath catch. This was it, she thought with dread. Now he would learn the entire truth, and she would learn her fate. Suddenly unnaturally calm, she waited for him to continue.

“That book doesn’t seem to be holding your attention tonight.” Jim had watched for nearly an hour, and had seen her restlessly turning page after page.

Closing the book, March traced the lettering on the front, then held it against her chest for protection.

“Do you want to talk about today?” he asked gently.

“No, there’s not much to talk about. You heard it all.” She lifted her chin. “Most of it’s true, but you knew that before we went to town. I can’t really even blame Fred. I was stupid to think that someone like him would want to marry someone like me.”

“The only stupid thing I can see about it is that someone like you would want to marry someone like him.”

Her startled expression brought a gentle smile to his face. “You are a warm, intelligent, beautiful lady. He is a spoiled, loud-mouth little boy, who doesn’t know the first thing about how to treat a woman.”

March rose from her chair and paced the room, from door to window and then back again, the book clutched against her chest. “I am not intelligent,” she muttered with disgust. “I’m about as dumb as a turkey.”

“I can’t argue that turkeys are dumb, but you, angel, are very intelligent.”

With a snort, she turned and approached his desk. Carefully laying the book on the polished surface, her touch caressed the leather cover. Why try to hide it, she thought with resignation. Sooner or later he’d find out the truth.

The coward in her said to wait until later, but March knew that she couldn’t stand the suspense of waiting. Now was the time to tell him, get everything out in the open … now, while she still had the courage.