Joline's Redemption (26 page)

“I thought him nice or I not go with him.”

Jo scooted closer and gently put her arm around the girl. “Did he ever hurt you?”

She shook her head again. “Not me, but you and the others.”

“Some men like seeing women cower before them. They take joy in hurting those who aren't as strong as they are. Those are the kind of men you want to steer clear of. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Sarah glanced up, confusion filling her black eyes. “But how do I stay away from Father?”

“Your father?”

Sarah nodded.

Jo frowned. “Who is your father? I didn't think you knew him.”

Sarah stared at her. “You know him.”

“No, I don't. I haven't any idea who he is.”

Sarah nibbled her lower lip, looked away and then back. Jo saw her swallow, as if she was trying to work up the courage to tell her.

Suddenly, Jo gasped as it all became clear. “Badger is your father.”

Sarah stared at her lap. “Yes. My father is bad man.”

Jo sat back, stunned. No wonder Badger had taken her in and treated her so nicely—at least as nice as a man like him knew how. She wanted to say something to make Sarah feel better, but what?

“Lara would tell you that God is your Father. Your heavenly Father. If you have Him in your life, you don't need Badger.” She blew out a breath, hoping she'd stated the truth correctly.

Hope flamed in Sarah's pretty eyes.

J
o rode into Guthrie, looking all around for Mark. She'd worn one of Lara's ugly sunbonnets to help keep her face hidden. Mark wouldn't recognize her unless he looked her straight in the face or heard her voice.

Now she must decide what to do next. Dare she walk into the store like any other customer? Too bad she couldn't have brought Sarah and pretended she was her daughter, but she needed to stay home to watch Jamie when he awoke from his nap.

Her heart pounded almost as much as it had the morning she ran away from Badger. She guided the horse to the street the store was located on, watching the activities of the lively town. Buggies and wagons were parked to the side, while men on horseback moseyed down the street to their destinations.

Jo relaxed. She'd always liked town life much more than living on a ranch, even though she was partial to horses. She enjoyed the town events, dances, and special performances by singers and poets. Shortly after they'd married, Mark took her to hear a famous opera singer, and that night when they'd returned home, they'd laughed so hard they'd gotten tears in their eyes as Jo mimicked the singers. It was one of her favorite memories of her time with Mark—before he changed.

Losing a bit of her courage, Jo guided the horse down the alley behind the store, dismounted, and tied him at the back of Baron's barn. Mark shouldn't have reason to go out there. Heart pounding, she tiptoed across the yard, hoping desperately that Mark wasn't in the house watching her.

The back door was open since the day was warm, and Jo tiptoed in. She took a quick glance around the storeroom to make sure Mark wasn't there then quietly moved to the open door that led into the store. She cocked her head and listened. Someone was moving around, but no one was talking.

She started shaking. This was a dumb idea. If it was Mark, he'd certainly stop her and question her if he saw her. Losing her nerve, Jo backed away toward the rear entrance and ran smack into a body. Someone clutched her shoulders, keeping her from moving.

“Just what are you doing sneaking around here?” A deep voice she didn't recognize boomed.

Baron rushed in from the store, his blue eyes wide. “Jo? Father? What's going on?”

The harsh grip on her shoulders relaxed. “You know this woman?”

“Uh … yes, sir. She works for me.”

The hands instantly released her. “Then why is she sneaking around?”

Jo spun to face the man, more than a little relieved that Mark hadn't found her, but he likely would if the man kept up this ruckus. Then Jo paused. Had Baron called him Father?

She gazed at the man and saw an older version of Baron. His eyes were hazel and his hair white, but they had the same height and bearing. Jo flashed a smile. “I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Hillborne.”

“This is Jo … uh … Father.”

Mr. Hillborne lifted one eyebrow. “Does she have a last name?”

“Uh …” Baron glanced at her.

“Jensen. Joline Jensen. Your son has been very gracious to allow me to work here when he needs assistance.”

“Has he now, Miss Jensen—or is it Mrs. Jensen?”

Jo ducked her head. How did she respond to that? In truth, she was Jo Jensen and always had been. But she had a son. Smiling again, as if he'd told a joke, she cocked her head. “It's Miss, sir.”

The man's mouth lifted in a smile; then he looked at his son. “Your mother is trying to lose herself in a book. I've a hankering to stretch my legs and see more of Guthrie.” He turned back to Jo. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Jensen.”

He strode out the door, and Jo joined Baron. “So, where's Mark?”

Baron's smile disappeared in a frown. He walked back into the store and leaned both hands on the counter. Jo followed, surprised by his unexpected reaction. “Is something wrong?”

He maintained his stance for a long moment then straightened. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Mark is dead.”

Jo gasped. “What? How?”

Baron shook his head. “That's not important. At least you won't have to worry about him returning to town.”

She wasn't sure if he meant that sarcastically or seriously. Although she was greatly relieved to know Mark would never bother her—or Jamie—again, she was sad for Baron's loss. Jo laid her hand on his arm. “I'm sorry, Baron. I cared deeply for Mark at one time. I want you to know that.”

“What changed? I mean, you once loved him but now you don't want to see him.”

Jo crossed her arms and walked to the window. “I don't think you truly want me to answer that.”

Baron walked over to where she stood. “He was my brother. I, of all people, know the extremes of which he was capable. One moment he could charm a person into happily handing over his wallet and then stab the man in the back the next. I tried hard to love my brother, but it wasn't my love he wanted.”

Jo ran her hand down Baron's arm, stopping short of grasping his hand. He was so different from Mark. “I'm so sorry. I fell under his charm, too. But then things changed.”

Baron grabbed her hand. “Tell me, Jo. What changed?”

Her stomach clenched at his touch, but she ducked her head, embarrassed to voice the hateful deeds out loud.

Baron gently squeezed her hand. “You're safe with me, and you can't tell me anything Mark did that I haven't heard before.”

She looked him in the face. If he wanted to know, then she'd tell him. “Mark was wonderful at first. Kind, sweet, charming, but things slowly began to change several months after we married. He would get angry….” She swallowed the lump that rose to her throat at the memory of his cruelty. “And then he hit me.”

Baron's grip tightened. “I'm so sorry. Did he … hurt you?”

“His abuse started with a slap when I said something cocky he didn't like. Things became the worst when I told him I was carrying his child.” Embarrassed to be talking about such a subject with him, Jo turned back to the window, gripping the top of the short door to the display area. “I thought the news would make him happy, but he was anything except that. He called me names, pushed me down, and then hit my belly so many times that I lost the baby.” Tears burned her eyes. She'd been in so much pain and so devastated by Mark's behavior that she'd barely grieved the loss of her first baby. She'd felt the loss of his love so much more.

Baron gripped her shoulders, his breath heavy. “I don't know what to say. I knew Mark had a cruel side, but to cause you to lose his child …” As much as she wanted to believe there was good in Mark, she knew now there wasn't. How could Mark be so cruel as to cause the death of his own child?

Jo shrugged. “He did it twice. I suspect that's why he ran away when I told him I was pregnant with Jamie.”

“Thank God he did.”

A woman walked by, looking in the window, and Jo realized they were making a spectacle. “I should go.”

“Not yet. Please.” He strode to the door, locked it, and then turned the sign to C
LOSED.
“Let's go to the back, where people aren't watching. I need to tell you something important.”

He held out his hand, indicating she should go first, and she walked to the storeroom. Baron followed then shut the connecting door to the store. The rear door was still open, but no one was outside.

“I can't tell you enough how sorry I am for what Mark did to you, but as much as it pains me, I have to tell you something else.”

Jo couldn't imagine what would have him so tense. She could believe Mark would do just about anything to get what he wanted—the fake minister was proof.

Baron drew in a loud breath then blew it out, as if gathering his strength. The pain in his expression made her heart ache.

“Your marriage to Mark was never legal, because he was already married.”

Jo's mouth dropped. She'd never once considered that could be a possibility.

Baron clutched her shoulders again. “I'm so sorry, Jo. Mark was such a fool. But I fully understand why he wanted to be with you.”

She glanced up, surprised by his comment. Her eyes locked with his, and she couldn't look away. Was it possible
he
cared for her?

Baron stared at Jo, his heart galloping faster than a horse running a race. He hadn't realized until that moment how much he was starting to care for her. He wanted to pummel his brother for what he'd done to her, but that would never happen. He glanced at her lips, wanting to kiss her.

Suddenly, he sobered. She was Mark's castoff, and he'd vowed long ago to never pursue a woman his brother had been with. He released Jo and stepped back, ending the precious moment.

As much as he wanted to kiss her, he wouldn't. Not just because she'd been Mark's woman, but he wouldn't take advantage of her like his brother had.

She ducked her head. “What was Mark's wife's name?”

“Abigail.”

Jo huffed out an unexpected laugh. “Well, it doesn't surprise me that he was married, now that I've thought about it. I found out after Mark left town that the minister who married us wasn't a real preacher. He was just some man Mark paid to pose as one.” She faced the open door, staring out. “The man who told me took great delight in the joke Mark had pulled over on me, and then he propositioned me.”

Baron sucked in a sharp breath. “What did you do?”

“I pointed the pistol that I had in my pocket at him, and his smile died on his lips. He took off, and I left town.”

“Where did you go? To Lara's?”

Jo shook her head. “That's the last place I wanted to go then. I couldn't face her or Grandpa and admit how badly I'd messed up my life.”

Baron wanted to pull her into his arms and offer her comfort, but she might misunderstand. “I wish I knew what to say.”

She shrugged, still not turning around. “There's nothing anyone can say.”

“One thing I know, God can heal the wounded places in your heart.”

Jo didn't respond for several long moments. “I would have laughed at that comment not too long ago, but I'm starting to think it may be true.”

“It is. Talk to God. He loves the brokenhearted. He can help when no one else can.”

“I should be getting back.”

“Jo, look at me.”

She sighed then turned, her expression cautious.

“I'll help you however I can.”

She lifted her chin. “I won't accept charity.”

“As far as I'm concerned, you're family.”

She blinked, obviously surprised by his statement. “Thank you, but I still feel the same. If you're willing, I'll return to work since …”

Since Mark was no longer a threat.

“You may return whenever you want.”

“But won't you close the store and return to St. Louis?”

“For what?”

“The funeral, of course. You couldn't have already had one since Mark died so suddenly and you've been here.”

He tightened his lips, remembering what his father had said. “There won't be one.”

“But how can that be? Surely your parents will need to honor him.”

Baron gazed up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “Mark's death happened in questionable circumstances. Mother is concerned Mark's actions will besmirch the Hillborne name, so Father ordered that Mark be quietly buried in the family plot. We're going to have a private ceremony as soon as my parents feel up to doing so.”

“How do you feel about that?”

His lips flattened, and he lifted one shoulder. “It doesn't matter how I feel. It's my parents' choice. But to be honest, I think it's a wise thing to do. Mark has traveled around so much that he didn't have many friends left. Abigail returned home to her parents, who never cared for Mark.” He closed his eyes, trying to remember a happy time spent with his brother. They were few and far between.