Joline's Redemption (9 page)

Sarah repeated the sound and nodded.

Jo flipped a few more pages. “This circle letter is an O, and many times when you say it in a word, you'll hear its name. Now, if you put the
J
and the
O
together, they say
Juh-O
.” She repeated it a bit quicker each time until she caught the moment Sarah understood.

The girl bolted upright, her black eyes brighter than Jo had seen. “
Juh-O.
It is your name.”

Jo smiled. “That's right. You only need a
J
and an
O
to spell my name—at least the name most people call me. Tomorrow, we'll write out those two letters, and I'll show you how to spell some other words.”

Sarah smiled and then a yawn broke loose.

“I think it's time you go to sleep.”

“What about you?”

“I need to go talk to Lara about something, and then I'll be back up.”

Sarah slid under the covers, and Jo set the primer on the bedside table, turned down the lamp, and stepped into the hall. She liked the warm feeling of seeing Sarah catch on and realize that she could learn to read. Maybe one day Jo would teach Jamie his letters. It might be good practice to help Sarah, even though Lara had also agreed to help her.

As she walked downstairs, she dreaded the talk that was to come. Lara wanted her and Sarah to attend Sunday services with Gabe and Grandpa. Lara was too far along in her pregnancy to travel to the nearest schoolhouse where the services were held, but she'd encouraged Jo to go and take Sarah. But Jo didn't want to go.

What if she saw
him
again? What if he asked her name?

She found everyone in the parlor. Grandpa slurped coffee while Lara sat with a steaming cup of tea resting on her stomach. Gabe stood at the mantel staring at a window, although it was too dark to see out. Jo was halfway surprised that he would leave his wife for church with her being only weeks away from birthing Gabe's first child. Though he considered Michael his son, Gabe was not his birth father.

She paused just inside the room and took a deep breath. “Before you say anything, I'm not going to church in the morning. I think I should stay with Lara.”

Her sister cocked her head and smiled. “That's very kind of you, but my closest neighbor, Marilyn Eastman, is coming over to sit with me.”

Jo's heart sped up. Now what? They didn't understand her situation.

“Perhaps you could stay with me next Sunday, if the baby hasn't arrived by then?”

Crossing her arms, Jo stared at the ceiling. Things were getting too complicated. This was why she never should have come back. She glanced at each of her family members, wishing she could tell them the whole sordid truth, but it would crush Grandpa and Lara. She had to try to get Lara to see reason. “What happens when someone asks my name?”

Lara blinked, her gaze innocent. “Just tell them. Why are you concerned about that?”

“I'm worried about
him
.”

“Who?” Lara asked, placing her teacup on the side table.

“She means Baron Hillborne.” Gabe shifted to face her, one eyebrow lifted. “Isn't that true?”

Jo nodded. “What if—” She paused and swallowed, hoping to get rid of the tightness in her throat. “You do realize that he is Jamie's uncle. And from what I understand, their family is wealthy. What if he tries to take Jamie away from me?”

Both Lara's and Grandpa's expressions changed to surprise. “What makes you think he'd do something like that?” Grandpa scratched his chin.

Unable to stand still any longer, Jo paced to the front end of the parlor. “Mark told me his family was very wealthy, and if I'm remembering correctly, his parents don't have any grandchildren. If they learned of Jamie, I fear they'd try to …” She couldn't voice the words again.

“Jo, please come and sit.” Lara's sympathetic tone drew Jo's gaze, and she took a seat on the sofa, next to her sister.

“I understand what you're saying, but I think your fears are unwarranted. Gabe met Baron Hillborne and said he seems to be a levelheaded man.”

Jo's gaze shot to Gabe's, her heart thundering. What had he told Baron?

Gabe nodded, not revealing anything.

Lara patted Jo's arm. “I would think the most you could expect from Mr. Hillborne is that he might like to see Jamie and visit him on occasion.”

And ask lots of questions she didn't want to answer. “Couldn't I just use a made-up name, and then we could avoid all of that unpleasantness?”

Three heads shook in unison. She should have known her churchgoing family wouldn't make things easy on her. They were all too upstanding to tell a falsehood. “People will ask questions.”

“And you'll answer them the best you can.” Grandpa eyed her with a no-nonsense look like he had when she was young and didn't want to obey.

“Besides,” Lara said, “there are bound to be people who will recognize you from when you and Mark owned the store. You can't avoid them.”

“I can if I stay here and don't attend church.”

Gabe straightened. “We're a God-fearing family, Jo, and everyone living under our roof is expected to go to Sunday services.”

She never should have come here. Maybe she should pack up and leave this place with its rules and regulations. She had enough restrictions back at the bordello.

“It will be good for Sarah, too. She needs to hear about God and His goodness, and she'll be able to meet other girls her age. I think it will help her to settle in.”

Jo couldn't imagine Sarah doing things that most twelve-year-old girls would do. She'd seen too much and lived too hard a life, but Jo didn't want to cheat Sarah out of going to church in case it might help her in a way it had never helped Jo.

“We're only going for the service, Jo.” Gabe caught her eye. “We don't plan to stay for the meal afterward—and that's where most of the visiting takes place. I want to get back home in case Lara needs us.”

Jo sighed, feeling surrounded. There were other reasons for her not to go tomorrow, such as Badger, but she couldn't mention him. She hadn't considered that she'd have to go to church if she came back, but she supposed it was a small price to pay to have food and a home for the children. She'd just have to make sure to avoid Baron Hillborne, if he was there. “All right. We'll go.”

C
hurch bells clanged all over town as Badger rode into Oklahoma City Sunday morning. The timing of the clamor made him feel welcomed, as if it were all done in his honor. He smirked at the thought, in spite of his frustration over not finding any clue of Sapphire and Sarah in the small towns east of Oklahoma City. Maybe there'd be news waiting for him at the house from one of the detectives he hired to find them. And he hoped his business was still intact with him being gone for almost a week. If he didn't rule with an iron fist, the ladies would take advantage and everything would fall apart. That was why it was so important to bring back the runaways and show the others what they could expect if they got any harebrained ideas.

He dismounted at the barn, opened the door, and led his horse inside, his thoughts on Sapphire. He'd been more lenient with her than the others because the feisty blond had touched something deep inside him, but he couldn't be the man she had thought he was when they first met. He hated to injure that beautiful body of hers again, but a beating was the only way these women learned.

He uncinched the saddle, tugged it off, and set it on a saddle block. And what about Sarah? The girl had to have gone willingly. Sapphire couldn't have carried that runt of hers and wrestled Sarah into going along, too. But why would the girl leave? Hadn't he treated her well? Taken her from her dying mother and given her a warm place to live?

As he strode to the house, Badger shook his head. He'd never understand females. Give them a nice house to live in, good food, pretty dresses—and they still weren't happy. He opened the back door and stepped inside, shedding his duster and hat.

Stoney's door jerked open, and the man stepped out looking half-asleep and half-ready for a fight. His posture instantly relaxed. “Oh, it's just you, boss.”

“Who else were you expectin'?”

Scrubbing a hand across his face, Stoney shrugged. “Never can tell. Might be another of them hussies trying to sneak off.”

Badger straightened. “Has that happened? Who left?”

Stoney swatted his big hand in the air like a bear toying with its prey. “Naw. No one else is gone.”

Blowing out a sigh, Badger strode to the kitchen. He needed coffee—and food. He paused and turned back toward Stoney. “Did I get any telegrams? Any word of Sapphire or Sarah?”

Stoney shook his head and yawned.

It might be morning, but Badger would be willing to bet the man had only been asleep for a few hours. “Go on back to bed. I'll holler if I need ya.”

Half an hour later, his belly satisfied, Badger sat at his desk, an idea for a newspaper ad spinning through his mind. He glanced down at what he'd written.

Missing wife, son, and half-Indian girl. Suspected to be victims of foul play. Substantial reward. Contact …

He leaned back in his chair, tapping a finger on his lips. Was that the best angle to use? Sapphire could easily deny being married to him. And the boy certainly didn't favor him, so there was little chance of proving her wrong, if push came to shove. But then, he really didn't need to do that. He just needed to find her. Once he did, bringing her home wouldn't be hard, not even if he had to knock her out and tie her to the back of a horse. Sarah would come along quiet-like as she had before. With Sapphire subdued, she wouldn't have the gumption to fight him. One thing was for certain, they wouldn't be bringing that boy back with them. If need be, he'd drop the kid off on someone's doorstep.

He stared at the ad then ran his pen across the words. He needed something more emotional.
Grieving father searching for missing family.

Baron muttered amen to the pastor's prayer as the Sunday morning service came to an end. He found the man's message encouraging and inspiring and felt this would be a church he'd enjoy attending while he remained in Guthrie. He rose and nodded at the man across the aisle and waited until the man's family had exited their bench; then he stepped into the aisle. His gaze instantly landed on a blond woman in the back row who'd turned into the aisle with a darker-skinned girl beside her. Behind them, Gabe Coulter followed. Gabe nodded at Baron then stepped outside with a boy with curly blond hair following close on his heels.

He wanted to push and shove his way out to get a better look at the blond woman, who he felt sure was the mystery woman who'd come to his store, but the aisle was blocked. As he reached the door, he shook the pastor's hand and mumbled, “Good sermon,” all the while searching the crowd of people talking in small groups. Others were heading toward their buggies.

He found Gabe talking to Elmer Baxter. A short ways past him, the blond woman stood beside a buggy with her back to him while facing the girl. He pushed through the crowd. “Excuse me. Pardon me.”

Baron bypassed Gabe, who still faced away from him, and headed straight for the woman. The girl, who looked to be part Indian, widened her eyes, and the blond turned as he neared them. He noted two things at once—she
was
the same woman—and she held a young child in her arms. Her expression turned frantic, and she looked as if she were searching for a place to hide. Stunned, he pulled to a quick stop. What reason did she have to fear him?

The girl climbed into the buggy's rear seat, and the blond handed her the sleeping child and turned to face him, her expression neutral. He studied her, and except for a fleeting flick of her eyes toward the baby, her fearful expression had surprisingly fled. She offered a soft smile. “So, we meet again.”

How had she managed to hide her fear so quickly—or had she mistaken him for someone else at first glance?

He shook off his concerns, just glad to talk to her again. “Yes. It's a pleasure to see you.”

She didn't repeat the comment, he noted.

“Did you need something, Mr., uh …?”

“Hillborne. Baron Hillborne.” Why would the mention of his name cause her to wince?

“As in Hillborne's General Store.”

He nodded, searching for a polite topic of conversation. “Good sermon today.”

There it was again—that quick spark of fear or apprehension—and just as fast, it was gone. The woman seemed a master at controlling her emotions, which made him wonder about her background. He grappled for something reasonable to say, wondering why it had been so important to talk with her.

The baby wiggled, fighting the girl, and then let out a screech. The blond spun toward him. Did the baby belong to her? If so, she must be married, and he had no business lingering, much to his disappointment. A sudden thought struck him. Was this Gabe Coulter's wife? He'd only met the man once, so it was possible. But she didn't look old enough to be the mother of the eight- or nine-year-old boy who now leaned against Gabe's side. And hadn't Gabe said she was having a baby soon?