On Her Way Home (34 page)

“Here,” Jo said, gently lifting up his chin, “let me see.” His chin had a red mark on it and a tiny abrasion but wasn’t cut, and Sam was already beginning to gather himself. Jo cupped his cheeks in her hands and asked, “Are you all right?”

Sam gulped and nodded his head, then climbed out of her lap and up onto Mac’s.

Mac playfully scrutinized the chin, pretending to take it very seriously for Sam’s benefit, which pulled a reluctant smile from him. “That’s a pretty good bump there,” Mac said.

“Come here, Sam, let me see,” Leif called from his position on the floor amongst the remaining trains. Sam hopped down and proudly walked to Leif, sticking out his chin so his uncle could get a better look, and then showing it to Charlie, Kirby, and Mattie in turn. “Yep, that looks like a stinger. You know what will make that hurt feel better?” Leif asked Sam, raising his eyebrows in earnest.

Sam shook his head from side to side, his honey eyes growing big, anxious to hear what could help his chin feel better.

“Go to Jo and let her give it a little kiss…right there,” Leif said, tapping Sam’s bump lightly. “That will take the hurt away.” Sam turned to Jo and grinned suspiciously at her. She opened up her arms invitingly to him. Suspicious but willing to try this experiment, Sam went into them.

Jo cupped his little chin once again and placed a pert kiss right on his bump and then pulled back to look at him. “Better?” she questioned with warm, laughing eyes. Amazed, Sam nodded his head vigorously and wrapped his little arms tightly around Jo’s neck, digging his hands into her hair and hugging her. His squeeze pulled the hair on the back of her head, but Jo didn’t care; it was a sweet pain.

Shrewdly observing the tenderness between his son and Jo, a disconcerting crease wrinkled Mac’s brow. The unsettling realization that Sam had grown deeply attached to Jo settled over him.

“See,” Leif said with a grin. “Didn’t I tell you that would work? Kisses are the best thing for hurts.”

Sam untangled his arms from Jo and wandered back over to Leif, picking up his train. Innocently, he said to Leif, “Jo got a hurt on her neck, and Pa kissed it better.” His animated eyes looked to Jo to collaborate what he said.

A cough, sounding suspiciously like a chortle, shot loudly from Kirby, who until this moment had been unraveling thread, ambivalent to the goings-on around him.

“Oh she did! Did she?” Leif said to Sam, his glittering eyes turning to Jo with a devilish spark. Jo’s face flamed a brilliant red, and she ducked her head, swiftly hiding her eyes from Leif’s cheeky, impudent smirk. He looked like a cat, pleased after swallowing a fat mouse.

Behind his paper Mac glanced side-long at Jo and saw her shrink into the couch, an embarrassed and bright blush flooding her face from Sam’s revealing comment.
He must have seen more than I thought
. He bit his lip and focused on his paper, working concertedly to conceal his grin and remain impassive. Inwardly, he was near to bursting, amused by his matter-of-fact son.

Although unaware of his blunder, Sam wasn’t ignorant of the enjoyment it seemed to create for others. Wanting to make Uncle Leif and Kirby laugh again, he added loudly, “
and on her lips too!”

“Bedtime, Sam!” Mac choked out, as he shot speedily from his chair and stalked across the room to Sam. Giving the little tattle a hearty tickling, he hefted him into his arms.

The room was swarming with suppressed laughter as Jo slunk further into her puddle of mortification at the base of the couch. Leif stared at Jo with a fat, tormenting smile plastered across his face, and Charlie was shiftily hiding his mouth behind his hand, doing a poor job of concealing his glee. His face grew redder and redder with the effort.

Through mocking eyes, Leif harassed, “Aw, let him stay up a little longer?”

Mac’s face was impenetrable, betraying nothing as he hauled Sam out of the room, ignoring Leif as he went. Jo missed their presence the minute they were gone as Leif’s teasing eyes rounded on her. Quickly caving under his scrutiny, she stood from the floor and promptly excused herself from the room. Her exit was followed by a burst of laughter from the parlor, even Charlie, her dear ally, could no longer stifle his amusement.

Grabbing her sweater off the hook, Jo slipped out the back door and took a seat in the rocking chair. It was still raining, but it had receded from a downpour to a lulling drizzle. Jo was antsy thinking about tomorrow and Mac leaving. She hoped that he would seek her out tonight so they could talk before he left to work with the threshing crew in the morning. Now that she was by herself and free from probing eyes, Jo could appreciate the hilarity of the parlor scene. A light grin broke across her face, remembering how quickly Mac had flung his paper to the side and jumped out of his chair to stop Sam from saying more. Jo turned her head as the screen door opened, hoping to see Mac, but it was Leif.

“Care for some company?” he grinned, with a repentant look in his eyes. Rolling her eyes, she tipped the rocking chair with her toe. Leif let the door swing closed behind him as he took a seat where she suggested.

“Are you going to be decent?” Jo asked, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

“I will. I promise,” Leif said, leaning forward in his chair and resting his elbows on his knees. They sat there together in companionable silence, just listening to the drizzle of rain until Leif mumbled, “You love him?”

Surprised by his blunt question, Jo swiveled to face him. A strange sober light in Leif’s eyes unnerved her. It was rare to see him so serious. He really wanted to know how she felt. Taking a leap of faith, Jo decided to be honest and trust him. She dropped her head back on the rocker and looked out into the rain. “I suppose I do,” she admitted.

Leif only nodded his head pensively. With one thumb he absentmindedly scratched the nail of his other thumb. “I want you to know…that no matter what…you always have a home here.”

Jo cocked her head to the side. “No matter what?” she questioned. “It sounds like you are trying to warn me.”

Leif chewed on his lower lip before replying candidly. “I suppose that’s because I am. I feel responsible for bringing you here. Mac…” Leif paused, not knowing exactly how to say what he wanted to, “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Jo’s defenses rose involuntarily. Who was Leif to assume she would get hurt? What did he know about what was between them? It was one thing to have her own inner voice warning her to be cautious. It was another to hear it from someone else’s mouth. She looked away from him, fighting back tears. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who feared her hopes for Mac were futile, and it hurt.

“I’m sorry, Jo…”

“Why now, why say something now?” she interrupted him angrily. “Now that I’ve admitted I care for him…you’re going to tell me how hopeless it is?” Her eyes smarted. After all she’d been through today, somehow this conversation was upsetting her more than any of it.

“I didn’t say it was hopeless. Mac’s changed since you came here. I’ve seen it.” Leif sighed in frustration. “Believe it or not, my intention wasn’t to come out here and upset you.”

Jo scoffed.

Ignoring her derision, Leif continued, “I really did just want you to understand that regardless of what happens with Mac, you can consider this your home. I know our arrangement was for the summer, but you can stay on and work here as long as you like.”

Jo turned back to him. He was staring at her intently, and Jo could see in his countenance that he meant what he said. Releasing her frustration, she said, “I appreciate that…I do, but I…well, I want my own home. It would never feel right to me, pretending this home, this family, is mine when it isn’t. I won’t be that disloyal to myself. ”

Leif nodded his head, fearing she’d say that, while at the same time understanding her motives. “So, do you have a plan then?” he asked.

She smiled at him dryly. “Besides hoping Mac loves me?”

Leif humored her with a half laugh.

Jo’s thoughts drifted back to that night two years ago when she sat at the kitchen table with her father and shared with him the feeling that life was passing he
r by. Jo gulped, and with a faraway look in her eye, she sighed softly and answered Leif, “I suppose I’ll see what lies downstream.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Jo woke up early the next morning, but to her regret, not early enough to see Mac and Leif off. Her conversation with Leif last night had left her too raw and emotional for another encounter with Mac. So instead of staying up late to speak with him, she had retired quietly to her room, drained in both body and spirit. This morning she’d crept out of bed long before the sun was up, thinking they would still be here, but by the time she had dressed in the dark and tiptoed down the stairs, they’d already left. Too early to start her morning chores, Jo clomped sourly back up the stairs and into her room. She pulled the switch on, filling the room with light too harsh for the early morning hour. Jo crossed the floor of her room and slunk down in the chair, trying to talk herself out of her melancholy mood. She missed Mac already, and he’d barely just gone.

As she sat there, she glanced around her room and noticed an envelope tucked beneath a jar of perfume on her bureau. She jumped up quickly and snatched it off the dresser. The two letters of her name were sprawled across the ivory envelope in small, tight script. Jo took a seat on her bed, opening the envelope.

Jo,

Don’t worry about riding up to the high pasture to check on the cows while I’m gone unless you take Charlie or Kirby with you. Sam is a restless sleeper. Would you mind listening for him at night? I was going to ask you in person but didn’t want to wake you. Be back in two weeks or so.

Mac

The note was impersonal to say the least. Just a “Jo” and a “Mac,” and all business in between. She didn’t know exactly what to expect when she’d opened it, but she’d hoped it would contain more than that, some hint of affection, some acknowledgement of a relationship deeper than boss and ranch hand.
And he expects me to be able to hear Sam at night? He walked straight into my room, and I didn’t even know it
, Jo thought ironically to herself. This note couldn’t be written by the man who just yesterday had kissed her fiercely and stared at her with tender longing. Jo shook her head, forcing herself to stop this absurd wallowing and be happy. Not four months ago, she had promised God that she would be more faithful and trust in His plan for her, and now here she was worried and fretful
. What a slothful servant I am
, she chided herself.

Rising from her bed, Jo walked over to the window. The sun was just barely spilling over the horizon. Inch by inch its yellow light crawled over the fields, the mountains, and the sky. Standing there, gazing at the dawning sun through her window, Jo saw the similitude between it and her own path. She was in the early morning hours of her life, where much was still dark and obscure, but as certain as the sun’s steady creep across the land, she knew…in time all in her life would be illuminated. In that moment of revelation, she realized that each of God’s creations, the sun and the soul, must follow the same simple pattern. Fixing her eyes on the horizon, she recommitted to being less fearful and more faithful.

Jo marched forth from her room with this new commitment and over the next two weeks worked hard at pushing out fearful thoughts. She focused on Charlie and Sam, and the people around her, and it lifted her up. Since Mac and Leif were gone, there was extra work for the three remaining hands. Each morning after chores, Kirby would dole out the plan for the day. Although the wheat had been harvested, hay, potatoes, and corn still needed tending to. Jo and Charlie had spent three long days walking between the rows of corn, picking it and tossing it into the wagon. It seemed like only yesterday that she was pulling last season’s stubborn stalks from the field.

Besides harvesting the crops needed to sustain the livestock, Jo was also busy harvesting produce from the garden. Kirby and Charlie would ride out to tend to the cattle after lunch, and Jo would can and preserve with Mattie until suppertime. In the evenings the work slowed to a crawl, and they would sit on the porch and snap beans, pod peas, or shuck corn as they visited in the dimming light.

During the day Jo was busy enough to keep thoughts of Mac at bay, but in the evenings, when her hands were occupied in a mundane task, her mind began to wander. She wondered if he was thinking of her or if he was lying awake at night as she did, remembering their sweet kisses. Every crop that was harvested, every corn cob in the crib, every bale of hay in the mow, every potato dug from the field brought her closer to the day when summer would end. What then? she asked herself.

The only benefit Jo could identify in regards to Mac’s absence from the ranch was the opportunity it afforded her to tuck Sam into bed each night. They spent most afternoons together, but that portion of the day mostly involved work and very little play. It was the evenings that Jo really enjoyed. With Mac gone, Jo felt responsible for Sam and kept him busy so he wouldn’t miss his father as much. They played hide and seek in the barn, went for walks across the pasture, and looked at the calves. They played ball and even went down to the river a few times to cool off. All of those things were enjoyable for Jo, but what she really cherished was cleaning him up at night after all the fun they’d had. She would wash his grubby little face and brush his teeth. Then when he was clean and dressed in his nightclothes, they would curl up together on Jo’s bed and read storybooks.

Sam was an easy child, well behaved, smart, and generally mild mannered, but about ten days into Mac’s absence, he started to miss his Pa, and it showed. One night out of the blue, when Jo told him it was bedtime, he refused to come inside with her, and when she stepped off the porch to go get him, he took off toward the barn. Before she could catch him, he darted between the doors and hid from her. She called his name and demanded he come out, but he wouldn’t show himself. Finally, after about fifteen minutes of searching, she got angry and threatened him that if he didn’t come out right this minute, she would tell his Pa when he got home. Of course, mention of his Pa did the trick, and out crawled Sam, who had stuffed himself down a crack between two straw bales.

Jo grabbed him by the arm and scolded him soundly. “Don’t you ever run or hide like that from me again, Sam. Do you hear me?”

Miserably, he had nodded his head and then, completely out of character for him, burst into tears. Jo picked him up in her arms and carried him to the house where she bathed him, dressed him in pajamas, and tucked him into bed.

Propped up in the back of the bed, Sam acted shy of Jo, as if he was unsure if she still loved him after his fit and sassing. Climbing up onto the bed next to him, Jo pulled him into her arms and stroked his downy hair back from his brow, assuring him of her love. He responded by snuggling tighter into her arms and resting his red wet cheek against her chest. It was at that moment that Jo realized how dearly she wanted him to be hers. She had been playing the role of mother for almost two weeks, but she wanted it to be a lifetime. She held Sam for a long time that night, long after his honeyed eyes closed in sleep.

***

Late in the afternoon, near the end of Mac's absence, Jo was pulling jars of freshly sealed beets from the water bath when she saw Kirby storm angrily across the yard. Hobbling up onto the back porch, he charged into the kitchen, shouting Mattie’s name.

“My goodness, Kirby, what in the world is going on?” she censured, hurrying into the kitchen. Kirby’s anger and volume had alarmed her.

“I’m going in to town,” he muttered, roughly washing his hands at the sink, with a disgusted sneer on his face.

“At this time of day?” Mattie asked, surprised. They lived far enough from town that heading to town this late in the afternoon was rare.

“Two more head have been shot. They’re rotting away up in the high pasture as we speak.” Mattie and Jo were shocked, but especially Jo.

“Shot?” Jo asked in a panicked voice, looking back and forth between Kirby and Mattie for an explanation.

Kirby’s hard eyes glinted over her. “This makes five in total.”

Jo’s mouth opened in confusion. “I never knew someone was shooting cattle,” she spluttered, alarmed. Mac’s insistence that she stay close to the ranch and that she not ride up to the high pasture was starting to become clear to her.

“That day we brought the bull down…we found the first one,” Kirby explained.

“Do you know who’s been doing it?” Jo questioned.

Kirby’s left temple bounced angrily as blood pounded through it. “I’ve got a pretty good idea,” he growled menacingly.

“I wish we had a telephone line,” Mattie exclaimed, and for the first time in his life, Kirby agreed with her. It would be much faster than driving to town and reporting it to the sheriff and also save him the worry of leaving Jo, Charlie, and Mattie alone on the ranch.

***

Jo and Charlie were in the barn saddling the horses at Kirby’s request, when he walked in with the sheriff. Jo had wondered who was going to be riding the fourth horse.

“Charlie, you know Sheriff Waters.”

Charlie dipped his head in greeting.

“Sheriff, this is Jo Swenson, one of our ranch hands.” Jo shook his hand. In a strange twist of irony, out of all the men in Montana who were as tall as sycamores, the shortest one of the lot was the sheriff. He was only a few inches taller than Jo’s meager five foot two inches, but surprisingly, he still seemed threatening. His light gray eyes cut shrewdly into Jo as he greeted her, and she imagined that any criminal would have a hard time staring into them.

Kirby had brought two rifles into the barn with him; he shoved one into the rifle sleeve on his saddle and handed the other to Charlie. “I asked Sheriff Waters to drive out here this morning so he could take a look at the cattle,” Kirby explained. Swinging his worn-out old body up onto Big Dan, he ordered abruptly, “Let’s ride.”

Jo was jumpy and on edge the entire ride up to the pasture, but even more so after seeing the bloated carcasses of cattle with flies buzzing around them, lying lifeless in the sun.

Over the next few days, her nerves didn’t ease. Every morning Kirby, Charlie, and she rode out with rifles sleeved in their saddles and watched over the herd. Kirby was determined not to lose any more cows while Mac was away.

Sitting in her saddle up in the high pasture, Jo’s eyes were scanning the line of trees bordering the open meadow where most of the cattle were grazing, when a flicker of movement caught her eye. Jo peered into the thick pines but could see nothing. Kirby and Charlie were quite a distance away from her, fanned out among the herd. Another definite flash of movement to her left caused Jo’s head to whip around and a spidery awareness to creep up her spine. She sat up tall in her saddle and watched Kirby, waiting for him to notice her. When he did, she raised her hand in the air and waved him over to her.

Kirby turned his horse, slowly making his way around the edge of the cattle in Jo’s direction. A crackling shot echoed across the field and over the cattle, startling Jo and the herd. Frantically, she swiveled her horse around in the direction from which the shot had come. Jo could hear brush breaking and the crack of branches and twigs as whoever had fired charged wildly away.

Kirby raced past Jo on his horse, signaling for her to follow him, and Charlie galloped in behind them. They rode hard to the tree line and then had to carefully weave their way through the dense underbrush and around stumps, trying to follow the retreating shooter. The horses were making so much noise that Jo could no longer hear. With more agility than Jo had given him credit for, Kirby jumped off his horse and held his finger to his lips, signaling her and Charlie to be quiet. Jo held her breath, listening intently for any sound of movement. Everything around them was still. Splintering bark exploded into the air with thunderous force to the right of Jo and Charlie.

“Get down!” Kirby shouted, yanking his rifle from its sleeve and sending two quick shots in the direction from where the bullet had come. Jo and Charlie jumped down from their horses, holding tightly to the reins of the frightened rearing animals, while taking cover behind them.

Kirby, Charlie, and Jo held their position for a long time, listening intently to the shooter’s noisy retreat. Time ticked by slowly until finally, Kirby cautiously lowered his rifle, his sharp eyes under thick grizzled brows peering through the trees and brush.

Slamming his rifle back into its scabbard, Kirby cursed viciously under his breath. “That was a warning shot. Didn’t want us following them.”

Jo was shaken up. The tree that the bullet had torn through wasn’t more than ten feet from her and Charlie.

Sweeping Charlie and Jo with a sidelong glance, Kirby barked, “Saddle up.”

It was a quiet ride back to the ranch with the three of them watching the woods closely and listening for anything abnormal. As they rode into the field and Jo caught sight of the house, an enormous feeling of relief overwhelmed her, even more so when she led her horse around the barn and spied Mac’s truck parked in its usual spot.

“Hallelujah, reinforcements,” Kirby muttered, a visible weight lifting from his shoulders as he spied the truck as well.

***

The long, physically demanding work on the threshing crew in addition to the time apart from the ranch, Sam, and Jo had left Mac drained and irritable. So when Kirby, Charlie, and Jo rode into the barn and the first words out of Kirby’s mouth were, “Boss, we got trouble,” Mac’s temper flared. He was inside General’s stall checking on the horse’s left flank to see how well it had healed up during the two weeks he’d been away. Before he’d left, he asked Charlie to care for his horse, and it appeared he’d done a fine job as the horse was healing nicely.