The Cowboy's Baby Bond (3 page)

“I regret that I kept Johnny from his plans,” she said by way of apology.

“He has a cabin to repair.”

“Is he getting married?”

“No.” Maisie paused. “He and his best friend, Thad, have plans.” She rolled her head a little. “They need a new beginning.”

It sounded rather mysterious but it was none of her business. “I'll help clean up,” she told Maisie. But when she put Adam down, he threw himself on his back and cried. “I'm sorry. He's not usually like this.” Normally he liked the freedom of scooting around on the floor, exploring every corner.

“He's miserable. And the house is hot. Take him outside and let him rest in the shade. I don't mind doing this on my own.” Maisie waved her hand to indicate the kitchen and the dish-laden table.

“But—”

“Wait right there.” She went into the other room and returned with a neatly folded quilt. “Spread that on the ground for him.”

Willow hesitated. “It doesn't seem right. First I keep Johnny from his plans, and now I've given you extra work.” Johnny had been going the opposite direction when he rescued her.

“Hush now. You haven't given me extra work and Johnny's plans can wait.”

Murmuring her thanks, Willow carried her son and the quilt outside and settled on the ground in the shade of some trees. As Adam reached for some leaves to play with, Willow relaxed for the first time in many hours. Make that many days. Since she'd left Wolf Hollow.

Were Johnny's plans as pressing as hers? If so, she had cost him a delay. She'd be sure to thank him at the first opportunity.

It didn't take long for a hundred worries to put an end to her relaxed state. Were her sisters as anxious to see her as she was to see them? Where was she to sleep tonight? The last two had been spent at the wagon, where she'd slept poorly, concerned about the safety of herself, her son and her belongings. Would Adam be ready to travel in the morning? Perhaps sleeping in the open accounted for his ear infection. Was it another mistake she would bear the burden of?

She trailed a cluster of leaves across Adam's tummy. He giggled, then screwed up his face and wailed.

“Poor little guy is in pain.”

She jerked about to stare at Johnny. “You startled me.”

“I saw you come out and thought I should tell you your wagon is fixed and ready to go.” He sat on the grass beside her.

Adam crawled into his lap.

Willow squinted at the baby. What was there about this man that drew her son like a magnet?

As if reading her mind, Johnny said, “I suppose because I drove you here, he thinks I have something to do with Maisie helping ease his pain.”

“I suppose.” It really didn't matter. They'd likely not see him again, or catch nothing more than glimpses of him in town. “I know I interrupted your plans for the day. I'm sorry. I hope it doesn't mean you lost some opportunity.”

“Not at all.” When Adam perched in his lap as if he'd found a throne, Johnny smiled. “I was on my way to fix a cabin.” He gave a little laugh when the baby plucked at Johnny's shirtsleeve. “If it's not done in time, we can sleep under the stars.”

“Still, I'm sorry for causing you a delay,” Willow murmured.

“No need to apologize.”

He didn't seem to mind, but how was she to know if his words were only politeness? She tried to think of something more to say, but her mind was on her own plans. Johnny offered no conversation as he trailed a blade of grass up and down Adam's arm to amuse him.

Maisie stepped out of the house to join them. “Willow, I've made up a bed for you and Adam.”

“Oh, but I didn't plan to spend the night.” At least not in the house. She still had her wagon.

“Of course you will. There's no other place and you're most welcome.”

Maisie was right. There was no other place. Sleeping under the wagon in a ranch yard where men came and went certainly didn't appeal. “Thank you.”

“How's little Adam?”

“He seems content enough now. Maybe he's over it.” Willow had no choice but to leave tomorrow whether or not he was better. But she didn't fancy adding to his misery.

They sat in the shade for another hour, joined by Big Sam and Levi. The Hardings talked together. Willow would have been content to sit and listen, but Maisie continually attempted to draw her into the conversation, so she politely responded. She learned more about the family, first and foremost that they had strong opinions and all appeared to have a firm belief that God loved and cared for them.

She wished she could believe it so easily. Ma and Pa would be disappointed if they knew of her doubts.

Big Sam rose first. “Time for bed.” He held out a hand to draw Maisie to her feet, and the pair shared a look of affection before Maisie turned back to her.

“Let me show you to your room.”

Willow scrambled up, folded the quilt and reached for Adam, who drowsed in Johnny's lap. She meant to lift the baby and hurry away, but she couldn't be so rude as to not thank him and bid him good-night.

She met his dark, bottomless eyes, saw guardedness so familiar she might have been reading her own mind. For a moment, she wondered at the cause of it in him, then she took Adam. “Thank you and good night.” She hurried after Maisie.

Odd that she should feel a bond to Johnny because of something she imagined she saw. Or perhaps it was only because he'd been so gentle with Adam. She surely appreciated that. Or maybe she let her little son's approval of the man carry some weight. She must be careful. Johnny appeared to be a kind man, but who knew what existed behind that exterior? She, for one, was not about to attempt to find out. Not that it was a possibility. She'd have her hands full taking care of Adam, providing a home for her sisters and somehow earning a living to support them all. She had a poke of gold that she had started saving as soon as they arrived in Wolf Hollow, taking bits Bertie neglected to pick up, or finding it in his pockets when she did the laundry. She didn't consider it stealing so much as getting her rightful share. For all Bertie cared about her welfare and Adam's, they would have starved to death without her careful hoarding.

“Come this way.” Maisie led her through the kitchen into a sitting room with large comfortable furnishings and shelves full of books.

Willow eyed the volumes. She loved reading, but ignored the call of her heart to explore every one of those books, and followed Maisie into a room with a wide bed covered in a prettily patterned quilt so clean and bright it made her blink. A chest of drawers stood on one side of the room, and by the bed, a little table with a chair beside it. Somehow it didn't surprise her that a Bible lay beside the lamp.

“This used to be Tanner's room, but now that he's married we use it for guests. I hope you'll be comfortable.”

“It's very nice. Thank you.”

As Maisie closed the door behind her, Willow began preparing Adam for bed. He had drowsed in Johnny's arms, but as soon as she tried to settle him, he fussed and rolled his head back and forth. After much rocking and humming, he finally calmed, and she lay down beside him, fully clothed.

Some time later Adam's crying jerked her instantly awake. She touched him. “You're fevered again.” He should be sponged, but would it be considered rude for her to go the kitchen when the household was asleep? She didn't have a choice and tiptoed from the room with him in her arms. Moonlight shone through the windows and she filled a basin with water and found a washcloth without lighting a lamp. Where had Maisie put the drops? The shelves were too dark for Willow to locate them. She'd have to settle for sponging the baby, and she set to work, murmuring comfort as she did so.

At least Adam's cries were now little more than whimpers—a fact that made her nerves twitch. “It's only an earache. Children have earaches all the time and it's not dangerous. Nothing bad is going to happen,” she murmured over and over, hoping her tone comforted Adam and wishing the words would comfort her.

“Can I do anything to help?”

Again she hadn't heard Johnny approach. She looked up to see him enter the kitchen. “You caught me talking to myself.” Thankfully, it was too dark for him to see her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“I thought you were talking to Adam.”

“I was.”

“His fever has returned?”

“Yes. I thought he was on the mend.”

Johnny pulled out a chair, but didn't sit. “Do you want me to light a lamp?”

“He might settle faster if you don't.”

“Of course.” He sat down. “Poor little guy.”

She heard the sympathy in Johnny's voice, and before she could stop it, Willow's heart opened a fraction. Not once had Bertie gotten up in the night with Adam. Not once had he done anything but complain when the baby cried. Nor had he let her forget the baby wasn't his and never would be.

Willow's jaw tightened. Poor Adam would never know a father's love and she had no one to blame but herself. She meant to make up for that lack as best she could by being the best mother possible. Seeing him fuss, she wondered if she had failed at that.

After a bit Adam's fever relented. He reached for Johnny, who took him and cradled him on his lap.

“He's never gone to a man before.” She hadn't meant to say it aloud.

“You mean apart from his father.” Johnny's deep voice seemed to soothe away Adam's fears.

“Not even his father.” Again, she unintentionally spoke her thoughts aloud. Blame it on the silvery moonlight.

“Really? But Adam is so...”

When he didn't finish the thought, she pressed, “He's so what?”

With a soft chuckle, Johnny said, “Cuddly.”

“He is indeed.” She managed to corral the rest of her thoughts—the many regrets and her guilt. Making a home for them would hopefully make up for some of them. “He's content now. I'll take him back to bed.”

Johnny got to his feet. “I'll carry him to the door,” he said, when she reached for Adam.

They crossed the room together and paused before the bedroom Willow and Adam had been assigned.

Adam fussed a little as Johnny shifted him to Willow's arms. She slipped into the room and closed the door softly. Adam whimpered, so she rocked him until finally, with a deep sigh, he slept, his arms thrown over his head.

Morning came and, with its brightening rays, a yearning for more sleep. But there was no time. Willow had to set out.

She touched Adam's brow. He wasn't hot. His fever hadn't returned during the night. She could leave with a clear conscience.

On the tail of that thought came one vastly different.

Could she make a warm, welcoming home like the Hardings'?

Chapter Three

J
ohnny took his chair at the breakfast table. The place set for Willow remained vacant. “The baby was fussy in the night. They might both still be sleeping.”

“I'm here.” Willow stood in the doorway, her dark brown hair again brushed back into a coil about her head.

He liked it better loose about her shoulders as it had been last night. But of course, she hadn't expected to see him then or she would probably have done it up proper. He shook his head. What made him think such a thing?

Little Adam looked at the room full of people and ducked his head against his mama's neck.

“How is he this morning?” Johnny asked, not waiting for Maisie to do so.

“He seems better.”

Upon hearing his voice, Adam lifted his head, found Johnny among the others at the table and held out his arms.

Johnny had convinced himself that the baby reached for him yesterday only because of his fever. To have those chubby little arms aimed at him again this morning stalled his heart right in the middle of a beat. He would never let anyone know, but it made him feel special that Adam chose him.

The baby leaned clear out of Willow's arms in his eagerness to get Johnny's attention. He babbled a string of sounds that so far as Johnny could tell didn't form any words, but he sure did make it as plain as the sunlight coming through the eastern window that he meant for Johnny to take him.

Willow shifted him, tried to distract him. “No, Adam. The man has to eat his breakfast.”

Adam babbled, his tone indicating he thought his mama wrong.

“I don't mind,” Johnny said and lifted the baby from her arms.

Adam rewarded him with a toothy grin and excited chatter. His steady gaze seemed to look clear to Johnny's heart and demand a response.

Johnny nodded. “That's right, old boy. I completely agree.”

Levi chuckled. “Good to see you found someone who speaks your language.”

Aware that Pa and Maisie watched him with speculative expressions, Johnny perched Adam on one leg and did his best to appear as if this was an everyday event.

The baby grabbed a fork and began to pound the table.

Maisie smiled. “I suppose he's hungry and telling us to get on with the meal.”

Color stole up Willow's cheeks. “Oh no. He simply likes to make noise.” She captured Adam's hands and stilled them, gently extracting the fork and putting it out of reach.

The look she darted to Johnny brimmed with apology.

“He's not hurting anything,” he reassured her. “Ain't that right, Maisie?”

“It's a pleasure to have a young one at our table.” She glanced at Pa and they shared one of their secret looks that seemed to shut out the others. Likely she was remembering the babies she'd never birthed. She'd lost them long before they were big enough to survive.

Seeing little Adam made Johnny realize how painful it must have been for her. At the time he'd been too young to comprehend, concerned only that his stepmother recover. When an appropriate occasion came, he'd be sure to tell her he was sorry for her loss.

“We best pray and get on with our meal.” Pa reached for the hands of those beside him.

Johnny kept his arm about Adam, giving him an excuse not to take Willow's hand. Somehow, he feared it would take him toward a place he meant to avoid.

Willow hesitated just enough for him to know she wasn't comfortable with the idea, either, then she joined hands with Maisie.

They bowed their heads as Big Sam said grace.

The food passed from one to the other. Johnny dished up and ate with one hand.

“I'll take him,” Willow said. “I'm used to holding him while I eat.”

“It's not a problem.” Johnny kind of liked it.

“If you're certain?” Accepting his nod, she mashed some food and fed Adam off her plate.

The baby opened his mouth like a hungry bird, and if Willow didn't have a spoonful ready right away, he leaned forward and made a sound that clearly meant
Feed me. I'm hungry
.

Johnny laughed.

“His appetite has returned,” Maisie said. “That's good.”

Willow smiled at Adam, then lifted her face to include Johnny. “I do believe he's better.” She turned back to Maisie, leaving Johnny off-kilter from the gratitude in her eyes. “I can't thank you enough for helping me.” She looked about the table. “All of you.” She glanced at Johnny again. “Especially you. You could have passed us by. Instead, you put aside your own concerns to help us. I truly appreciate it. You are a Good Samaritan,”

“I only did what anyone would have done,” he told her. But when had anyone outside his family appreciated him for living up to his standards?

Maisie caught Willow's attention. “If you knew Johnny, you'd know he does what is right no matter the cost.”

Willow's gaze came back to him, her eyebrows raised just enough for him to know she wondered if his stepmother exaggerated. “That's nice,” she said.

For a few minutes, conversation turned to others things. The meal was about over when Willow spoke again. “I must be on my way this morning. I have a train to meet.”

Big Sam pushed to his feet. “Levi and I must leave, too.” He held out his hand to Willow and they shook. “It's been nice meeting you. Perhaps we'll see you again in town.”

Johnny rose, as well. “I'll get back to fixing the cabin.” He paused to say goodbye to Willow and cup Adam's downy head, then turned away. He sure did hate to see them go.

The men grabbed their hats and trooped from the house. Johnny first hitched Willow's mare to the wagon. It seemed the right thing to do. Then he saddled Gray, threw on his heavy saddlebags and rode from the yard.

He reached the spot where he'd heard Adam yesterday and found the pair. The reins hung slack in his hands and Gray stood waiting for an indication of what he should do.

Johnny stared at the trees where he'd first seen the wagon.

He'd rescued her, then left her to get to town on her own. What was he thinking?

* * *

Willow stared after the men, feeling as if a door in her life had closed. What a truly foolish thought. It made no sense. Except she'd glimpsed something in Johnny and this family she hadn't seen since the death of her parents. With a slight smile she acknowledged her feelings for what they were—a desire to re-create the sort of home she'd known before her parents' deaths. The type of home she'd witnessed again with the Hardings. She'd almost forgotten that sense of comfort and safety. As she helped Maisie clean the kitchen, then gathered up her belongings, she vowed she would make that sort of home for Adam and her sisters.

“Thank you again.”

Maisie handed her some drops. “In case his earache returns.”

Willow took them, tears clogging her throat at the unexpected kindness she'd experienced here. “You'll never know how grateful I am.”

The older woman wrapped her arms about Willow and Adam. “I wish you could stay longer, but I'll be sure to look you up when I'm in town, if only to assure myself you are okay.”

“You're welcome anytime. And your family, too.” Perhaps Johnny would stop in to see them, as well. She immediately corrected the thought. She would never again expect anything from a man.

She carried Adam and her belongings outside. Someone had hitched the mare to the wagon. How thoughtful. Had Johnny done it? And if so, why?

She shook away the questions and turned her mind toward getting to town. Adam perched on her knees as, with a final goodbye wave to Maisie, she drove from the yard.

According to what the Hardings said, it would take her close to an hour to reach Granite Creek. An hour in which to think and plan and, unfortunately, regret.

A long lonely ache consumed her insides. She meant to do her best to provide a home for her family, but it would never be the same as she'd known as a child. Her parents were dead and nothing would ever fill that void. She thought of how Maisie fitted into the Harding family so well and filled the home with love. Willow could never offer Adam and the girls a stepparent like that because she would never again trust her future and happiness to a man, let alone those of her sisters and son.

The one regret that would never go away was her own foolishness in sleeping with Adam's father without the benefit of marriage. Peter Shaw had won her heart at sixteen when he'd bought her box lunch at the church social. Her parents had approved of their courtship and the two of them had spent many happy hours with the family. Peter had lofty ambitions. He meant to strike out for the north as soon as they were married. “New lands and maybe even gold,” he'd said.

When Willow told her ma that she didn't want to go so far from home, Ma had reassured her. “My child, you won't be happy if you hold him back from his dreams.”

But then Ma and Pa had died. Wedding plans were postponed while Willow grieved. Peter had comforted her, and one night she'd allowed the comforting to go too far.

But she'd expected Peter to marry her. Yes, they would have to rush the wedding, ignoring expected standards about the mourning period. But she loved him and he loved her.

Except, it turned out, he didn't love her enough.

“I can't take a woman carrying a baby into the wilds. It wouldn't be safe.”

Her heart had fallen apart. “I don't want to be responsible for you losing your dream.”

He'd taken it the wrong way. “That's very kind of you. I'll leave within the week.”

Willow closed her eyes against the remembered shock and shame of having to go to Mr. Reames and tell him the truth.

Now she held Adam to her chest, ignoring his protests. “I have you,” she crooned to the boy. “That's all that matters.”

A pair of approaching riders snapped her from the tender moment. She set Adam behind her in a safe little nest she'd made among her belongings. She handed him a hard biscuit to chew on, hoping it would keep him quiet, then eased the pistol from her satchel and hid it in the folds of her dress. Many men would see her as easy prey, but she had no intention of letting herself fall into evil hands.

The men parted to go on either side of her wagon, putting her at a disadvantage. She shifted her gaze from one to the other.

“Howdy,” the bigger man, on her left, said. “You out here by yourself?”

She flicked the reins, but the man on her right caught the mare and held her in place.

“Seems a little unneighborly to ride on without answering my friend.”

Willow refused to show fear even though her heart raced so hard it hurt. “Howdy to you both. Now would you please let me pass?”

“What's yer hurry?”

The skin on the back of her neck shivered at the way the bigger man leered at her.

“I'm meeting someone. He should be along any moment now.” It was an outright lie but she'd do anything to protect her child from the likes of these ruffians.

Both men looked up and down the trail.

“Don't see anyone coming.” The big man rode forward and poked at the canvas covering her belongings. “What'cha got in here?”

Please don't see Adam. Please don't see him
.

“Hey, look, Shorty. A baby. Well, ain't that cute? Jes' look at him.”

Shorty didn't move, still holding the mare.

Willow's mind raced. Should she shoot Shorty? Shoot the man behind her? Which would give her the best advantage? And could she actually pull the trigger?

“I ain't played with a baby since I was a kid.” The big man leaned across the side of the wagon.

It was now or never. With shaking hands she whipped the pistol out, sucked in a deep breath and shot toward Shorty.

The man's horse reared, forcing him to release his hold on her mare.

“Hi yi!” She whipped the reins as hard as she could and the wagon jerked forward. She glanced over her shoulder.

One man fought to gain control of his horse. The other tried to keep his mount from racing down the hillside. Then her gaze lit on her son. Adam lay in the wagon, his eyes scrunched up, ready to cry. She didn't have time to comfort him as she urged the placid old mare to run harder.

Another glance behind her revealed the two men had their horses under control and were racing after her. A third followed. Where had he come from?

Panic sucked at her insides until she felt nothing else. She kept her attention on the road, which veered to the left ahead. She'd have to ford the river here—not something she cared to attempt at a full gallop. She was trapped between the water and the wicked men behind her.

She heard a shot ring out and tensed. She felt nothing. Not that she knew how it felt to be hit with a bullet. She wondered if she'd feel anything at this point, she was so consumed with fear.

At the sound of another shot, she glanced behind her to make sure Adam was safe. He watched her with wide. unblinking eyes. Then he chuckled. For a heartbeat her fear gave way to surprise. Then she faced the road ahead. The left turn approached. If she took it at this speed, she'd surely overturn the wagon and risk their lives.

Was this what her parents saw happening when their buggy ran out of control?

She bit down on her bottom lip. No time to deal with such thoughts. She would not put Adam's life in danger even if it meant fighting off two angry men and now a third. She pulled back on the reins. “Whoa. Whoa.”

The mare fought the weight of the racing wagon as she slowed.

With no time to spare to check on her pursuers, Willow eased around the corner and down the slope toward the river. Her throat tightened. She'd never driven a wagon across a ford. Was it wide enough she didn't need to worry about the wheels falling into the depths? How strong was the current? She clenched her teeth and—

“Willow. Stop.”

Her heart lurched. Who knew her name around here?

“Wait. Stop. Those men have gone.”