Rekindled (37 page)

Closing her eyes, the distant memory of another summer thunderstorm made her skin tingle. She could still hear the claps of thunder crashing overhead. Without warning, gusting winds had swept down late that afternoon as she and Larson traveled back from Denver, and Larson had sought refuge in a ravine he’d stayed in before. He’d made sure she was safe in the cleft of an overhang before going back for the horses. When he disappeared into the driving wind and rain, she feared he wouldn’t find his way back to her. How could he? She could barely see two feet in front of herself. Once he returned, she’d asked him about it. Larson had shrugged as though it was something he’d never considered before. “I just know the way . . . in here,” he’d added, lightly touching his chest. Half wanting to smack him for treating her fear so casually, she had sought the reassurance of his arms instead. And through the night, even as the storm subsided, Larson had chased away her fear and any chill that might have come.

Kathryn’s eyes filled with tears, and her chest tightened painfully. Her skin tingled again, but this time with the longing for Larson’s touch. For the chance to again look into his eyes and see the fire that burned there for her.

“Are you all right?” Jacob asked, quiet beside her.

She turned to find him watching her. Whether he noticed her tears or not, when she nodded he just looked back to watch the road, and Kathryn felt strangely bereft. She remembered the many times in the past when she’d wished Larson would have held or touched her at a moment like this. She could’ve asked him to and he would have, no doubt. It was silly, she knew, but somehow it wasn’t the same if she had to ask. And she wasn’t about to ask Jacob to do such a thing. It wouldn’t have been proper, nor would—

Jacob’s hand covered hers on the bench between them.

Kathryn closed her eyes, and tears slipped down her cheek. A part of her heart long cordoned off slowly opened, and she gasped softly at the loneliness hoarded inside. The warmth from Jacob’s hand seeped into hers. She shivered and gripped the buckboard tighter, hoping he wouldn’t move it away. He didn’t.

Neither of them looked at the other, yet it felt as though they were joined somehow. Connected in a way Kathryn had never been with another person before.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

W
ALKING BACK TO THE STABLE, Larson saw the wagonload of women pull up behind the row of bunkhouses. It was hardly dusk, and the party was already starting. Several of the men had made a point of telling him about tonight’s remuneration.

“It’s MacGregor’s way of thankin’ us for a job well done,” one of the hands had said, jabbing his buddy in the side. “They stay till everybody’s had a turn. That means even you, Jacob.”

Larson turned away from the women strutting into the bunkhouse amid hoops and hollers and instead looked to Kathryn’s cottage. A faint yellow glow came from the bedroom window, and he wondered if she would be up for a walk tonight. They’d been on several in the past few days, and he’d begun to look forward to them, probably more than he should. But the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to spend. He was getting to know his wife in a way he’d not known her before. Larson recalled finding his papers in her Bible that Sunday—that had made him feel special in a way he couldn’t put into words.

Kathryn answered on the second knock. “I was hoping you would come by tonight.” The look in her eyes reflected her words. “Wait here for just a second. I’ll be right back.” She left the door open and walked back to the bedroom.

When she returned, Larson saw her stuffing something into her pocket. It looked like a pair of knit gloves. “I doubt you’ll need gloves tonight,” he said teasingly.

Her smile only deepened. “Better safe than sorry.”

He purposefully took a path in the direction of the stables, well away from the bunkhouses. The silhouette of a thumbnail moon lit the twilight sky as the sun took refuge behind the mountain peaks, and conversation came easily as Kathryn talked about her day.

As they rounded the corner to the back of the stable, Larson gently interrupted her. “I was hoping you’d feel up to taking a short walk tonight, and maybe . . . a hayride.” He motioned with his hand.

Kathryn’s eyes went wide and she chuckled.

Gabe stood beside the hay-filled wagon bed dressed in his work shirt and dungarees but with a ridiculous-looking hat on his head— something a fancy carriage driver might have worn. He bowed low and swung an arm wide, apparently intent on playing the part.

Larson laughed. “I asked you to drive the wagon, Gabe, not steal the show.”

He motioned for Kathryn to precede him and helped her onto a blanket in the back of the wagon. He climbed up beside her, her expression warming him. Larson settled down a fair distance away, not wanting to give the wrong impression. He recalled covering her hand the other day on their way home from the Carlsons’—the fragile strength of hers lying beneath his—and the feeling was still with him.

Seated on the buckboard, Gabe gave the signal and the horses responded.

Kathryn tipped her head back and closed her eyes. Neither of them spoke, and that suited Larson fine. He enjoyed the chance just to be near her. Staring at her now, drinking in her unflawed beauty, he had a hard time imagining her living back in that brothel or having fathered another man’s child. And though he was certain he could love Kathryn again, that indeed he did love her still, he couldn’t deny the wish inside him that she’d remained faithful, that she’d kept herself pure.

Like you were when you came to her, beloved?

Truth arrowed through Larson’s chest. He lowered his face. His heart pounding, no words rose within him in defense of his past sins—sins that were covered now in Jesus’ blood, completely forgiven by God. And that Kathryn had willingly forgiven years ago.

Thankful for the darkness and the noise of the wagon wheels over the prairie, Larson searched the night sky. Forgiveness was a strange gift. One that had to be shared in order to be kept. He might not understand everything the Bible said, but God’s Word was clear on that point.

Gabe returned to the stable about an hour later, and Larson helped Kathryn down from the back of the wagon. He plucked pieces of straw from her hair.

Her eyes shimmered. “Thank you, Jacob. This was a wonderful evening.”

Larson’s gaze went to her mouth, and the urge to draw her close to him was nearly overpowering. But the memory of his scars and the fear of how she would surely react swiftly doused the reckless desire. He cleared his throat. “Well, it’s not quite over yet,” he said, enjoying the crinkle of her brow.

“Refreshments are served,” Gabe announced with a flourish and then threw open the stable doors.

Kathryn covered her mouth in surprise, a giggle sneaking past her fingers.

Larson offered his arm, and she slipped her hand through. As Gabe cut slices of a cake that Miss Maudie had made at Larson’s request, the three of them talked, sitting on bales of hay huddled around an old crate.

“Did I do it right, Jacob?” Gabe whispered after a minute.

Larson laid a hand to his massive shoulder. “You did very well, my friend. Thank you.”

Kathryn leaned over and placed a kiss on Gabe’s cheek. Larson smiled at the sweet gesture and the blush it drew from Gabe. “Thank you both, but how did you know?”

Larson attempted a look of nonchalance. “Know about what?” he asked, the surprise in his voice almost convincing himself.

“That August ninth is my birthday.”

Gabe’s sincere look of shock clinched it, and Larson was glad he’d kept it a secret from him. This way, Gabe was party to the fun and not the well-intentioned deception.

A while later, Larson escorted Kathryn back to her cottage. “I’m sorry for getting you home so late. Time got away from me.”

“Oh, don’t you dare apologize for anything, Jacob. This evening was perfect. It was the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

The sincerity in her voice told him it was true. The evening had turned out far better than he’d planned. He wished he could have done more, something fancier, perhaps, but he hoped it had made her feel special.

They fell in step beside each other again, and without provocation, Kathryn placed her hand in the crook of his arm. Larson covered her hand with his, silently loving her with a passion that ran deeper and wider than he’d ever imagined possible.

How much longer could he work and live this close to her without revealing who he was? Without her discovering it for herself?

When they reached her porch, Kathryn turned and looked at him. “Oh, I almost forgot. I made something for you.” She pulled the gloves from her pocket and held them out.

Larson looked at them, then back at her, not sure why she was giving him a gift—much less gloves in the middle of August!

“It’s not fancy, I know. But . . . I thought you could use another one.”

He took what was in her hand, then realized what it was.

His eyes burned with emotion. “Thank you,” he rasped, fingering the knit cap in his hands. How had Kathryn described him to Matthew Taylor the other day?
“A good friend”
—that’s what she’d called him. How could Larson remain merely good friends with Kathryn—and still be an honest man? The cost of the truth was great. Was he ready to risk it?

“Kathryn, I—”

A scream split the night.

She stepped closer. “What was that?”

They heard it again, more muted this time. Larson shoved the cap into his shirt pocket, then put a hand to Kathryn’s arm. “Stay here. I’ll go see what’s going on.”

Thinking the screams might have come from a supply building next door to the bunkhouses, he tried the side door. Unlocked. When he pushed it open slightly, a pale slice of moonlight illumined the inside of the building.

He heard a hard slap, then a thud.

The opening of a door on the opposite wall let in a second brief wedge of moonlight. Whimpering, like that of a child, sounded from a far corner. It was a pitiful cry, and it stirred a mixture of anger and protectiveness inside him. Larson felt his way along the shelves, then heard a shuffling noise.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly, realizing the child was trying to hide. “I’m here to help you.” A crate toppled from a shelf directly in front of him. He easily avoided it. Cautiously, he rounded the corner and spotted a young girl cowering in the corner.

“Get away from me,” she hissed.

Even in the pale light, Larson recognized the long dark hair, and he had heard the voice before. “Are you hurt?” He took a step forward.

“I said stay away from me!” she screamed. Her face contorted as she pushed her body against the wall. Only then did Larson notice her dress. It was ripped across the shoulder and down the front. Her hands clutched the pieces, holding it together.

“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. I want to help.”

The girl screamed at him in a language Larson had never heard before. He heard a door opening.

“Jacob?”

“We’re over here.” Intentionally keeping his voice calm, he met Kathryn in the aisle. “There’s a girl in the corner. She’s from the brothel in town. I think she’s been—”

Kathryn pushed past him. “Sadie!” she gasped, going to her.

The young girl fired a rapid response in the foreign tongue, switching to English intermittently, but this time her voice came out broken and raw. The girl clung to Kathryn until Kathryn finally ended up on the floor beside her. Larson watched as the two held each other, the girl holding her arm in an awkward-looking position. The older cradled the younger against her chest, nodding at whatever it was the girl whispered between sobs. Kathryn rocked Sadie back and forth, stroking her hair like a mother would her child.

Watching the scene, Larson was struck with a difficult truth. All the things he’d desired to give Kathryn through the years, all the earthly goods he would’ve lavished on her if he’d been able—they all fell away in a moment’s passing. The one thing Kathryn had wanted most was the one thing he had not given her. And never could give her. Another man had done that, and that other man deserved to watch his child grow. Matthew Taylor could give Kathryn the life that she deserved. Larson’s chest heaved. Taylor could give his wife the desires of her heart. In truth, he already had.

“Can you help me with her?” Kathryn’s voice was hoarse with emotion.

Wishing he could help, Larson raised his hands in a helpless gesture. “She won’t let me get near her.”

Kathryn gently drew up Sadie’s chin and stroked her cheek. “This is Jacob. He is a good man. He won’t hurt you. He won’t try to touch you like that; I give you my word.”

Sadie looked from Larson back to Kathryn. “He is like the man you told me about?”

“Yes,” she said, a sob escaping her, “he is like that man.” With effort, she stood. “I think her arm is broken, Jacob.”

Larson approached slowly. It was clear from Sadie’s posture that she didn’t trust him. What held her there was her trust in Kathryn. The girl winced and went stiff when he tenderly gathered her into his arms.

“It’s okay, child,” he whispered as he carried her out of the building. She looked at him but said nothing.

Kathryn caught up with them. “Sadie needs a doctor. She told me she was running to catch the wagon heading back to the brothel when someone grabbed her from behind and dragged her in there. She told me she’s not hurt badly on the outside, but I’m not sure about . . .”

Larson nodded, understanding. “I’ll take her into town to see Doc Hadley.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No, Kathryn, you’re not. I’ll be gone most of the night, and you need to rest.” And he didn’t need to be with her right now. The knowledge that he would never have her again was killing him. “I’ll take care of Sadie—I give you my word.”

He carried Sadie behind the stable to the wagon filled with hay and laid her in the back. Fierce distrust sharpened her dark eyes as she backed away from him. He quickly hitched the team and made to leave. Kathryn covered the girl with a blanket, whispering to her in low tones, which the girl answered in her own whisper.

Before Larson could climb to the bench, Kathryn put a hand to his arm. “Sadie says she’s seen you before in town . . . at the brothel.” A clear question rang in her voice.