The Homesteader's Sweetheart (20 page)

“You do?” Maxwell’s voice squeaked, making him sound a lot like Davy’s changing voice.

Again, the girl’s reply was too soft for Jonas to hear, but she came closer, raised up on tiptoe and kissed Maxwell’s apple-red cheek before rushing off to join her family.

“Hmm,” Penny cooed, leaning her head against Jonas’s shoulder for a brief moment. “Seems like everything worked out for Maxwell.” She seemed happy about it, but Jonas didn’t know what to think. He wasn’t good with feminine emotions or knowing what to do in those kind of situations.

And yet, Penny still clung to his arm. As if she was proud to be with him. As if she was part of the family.

His chest swelled with pride to have her on his arm. Walt’s smile showed his approval, which meant a lot to Jonas, too.

And then…when I have to go back to Calvin, we’ll see where things stand.

But even so, her words from the other day would play in his mind at times, always reminding him she wouldn’t stay with Walt forever.

But she’d left the door open, and he couldn’t help hoping that there was a future for him with Penny.

He wanted it so badly. Especially sitting next to her through the service, shoulder to shoulder. Her skirt brushed against his trousers when they stood to sing. He shared a hymnal with her, even though he couldn’t read the words.

Being with her felt
right.

After the services were over, Jonas herded his family to the wagon.

A light breeze made the warm day more bearable, but as the wagon rattled toward home, an acrid scent had the horses’ ears twitching and Jonas scanning the horizon. It smelled like smoke, something any homesteader knew to fear. Especially this time of year, with the drying hay out in the fields.

When a line of smoke became visible in the direction of home, Jonas urged the horses faster. Oscar, who’d ridden ahead to check things out, came flying back.

“It’s our fields, Pa! Our hay’s on fire!”

Chapter Nineteen

H
ow could this have happened?

Jonas coughed, the kerchief he’d tied over his face not managing keep the smoke from his lungs. His eyes stung, face felt seared from the roaring heat.

The fire had taken the west field, but he and the boys had formed a bucket brigade, and were doing their best to prevent it from taking the south one as well. Maxwell had been upset that he couldn’t help because of his foot, so Jonas had set him plowing a break line between the fields and house that might stop the fire from reaching the house and barn. He’d let Walt help, when the older man arrived with his grandson and wouldn’t leave without a job. At least Walt would be out of the worst of the smoke.

Penny and Breanna had been sent to Walt’s place. Jonas wanted them as far from the danger as possible. Especially if the worst happened and he and the boys couldn’t stop the fire.

He just didn’t understand how this fire could’ve started. It hadn’t taken his nearest neighbor’s fields, nor had there been any lightning, no storms that could have ignited it…

Another hacking cough seized him, almost taking him to his knees.

“Pa!” Matty shouted, the next in line beside him.

Jonas waved his son’s concern off, forcing his sore legs to stand, to hold his weight. He had to save the field. Needed the hay for his animals to make it through the winter.

Needed the money for Breanna’s treatment.

Precious water sloshed over Jonas’s hands as he accepted the full bucket from Matty and passed back an empty one. Despair seeped over him as they were forced to move back farther, as the fire continued raging, eating his crops, his livelihood.

His hope.

* * *

Penny waited anxiously in Jonas’s kitchen. She and Breanna had watched from Walt’s porch until the worst of the smoke had dissipated, then they’d run all the way down to Jonas’s home and now waited for any report.

It had been hours. Where were the men?

She and Breanna had pulled pail after pail of cool water from the well and filled every container she could find, knowing Jonas and the boys would be parched when they came inside.

Penny’s thoughts felt scrambled, as if she couldn’t form one coherent thought. All she could do was pray for Jonas, her grandfather, and the boys’ safety. If something happened to one of them, she couldn’t bear it.

The door banged open and several soot-covered, coughing bodies came in, slumping down at the table. Penny counted Seb, Ricky, Matty, Oscar, Davy, Edgar, and Maxwell hobbling in at the rear. Sam and Walt followed them in, but where was Jonas?

She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Seb answered her, his voice scratchy, “Pa wanted to make sure the fire was all out.”

“It isn’t stopped?” she asked, anxiety breaking her voice.

Oscar gulped from one of the glasses, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and leaving black streaks across his chin. “The fire stopped burning at the creek line. Pa wanted to make sure there weren’t any more embers before he came in.”

Her grandfather turned serious eyes on her. “You’d best go to him. I’ve never seen Jonas so disheartened.”

His words were all she needed. She grabbed a large pitcher she’d filled earlier and rushed out to go to Jonas. She needed to see for herself the damage that had been done, needed to know that Jonas was okay.

She stopped short at the edge of the burned-out field. Black rubble was all that was left of Jonas’s previous golden crop, ready for harvesting. The choking scent of smoke still filled the air.

She spotted Jonas walking along the far side of the field, head and shoulders down as if he could barely hold himself upright. Carefully lifting the hem of her gran’s borrowed dress above the ashes of the field, she clutched the water pitcher to her midsection with the other hand and started toward him.

Her boots crunching in the burned-out hay must’ve alerted him to her presence, for he looked up, and she gasped softly at the bleakness in his expression.

“Jonas,” she breathed, letting go of her skirt and reaching out to him.

He pulled her close, and she wrapped her free arm around his neck, stretched up on her toes to be closer to him, uncaring that he was covered in dirt and soot. He buried his face in her shoulder, shuddering. Was he crying? She couldn’t tell.

When he pulled away a moment later, his eyes were dry, though red. That could be from the smoke.

“I don’t want to get you all filthy,” he said, voice hoarse.

“I wasn’t complaining,” she returned, slinging her arm around his waist even as she pushed the water pitcher into his hands. “Drink.”

His eyebrows twitched but he made no other expression as he raised the pitcher to his lips and drank directly from it. He gulped it, water running down his chin and onto his shirt.

Penny stared at the devastation around them, wondering how he was going to get through this. She knew he liked things carefully planned, and that he needed this crop to make it through the winter. If he had to purchase hay from somewhere else, how would he manage to pay for Breanna’s treatment?

He finished drinking and used the back of his wrist to wipe his mouth, spreading streaks of soot across his face in the same way Oscar had.

“The boys said you were down by the creek.”

He nodded. “I was. Everything’s out down there. I wanted to come up here and see…” He trailed off, his face set in hard lines. “Someone intentionally set this fire.”

“What?”

The grim set of his lips said it all. “They spread some of the cut hay, so it would move quickly. They even left their torch behind.”

Bitterness seeped into his voice. “I just don’t understand why someone would do this to me.”

She shook her head; she had no answer. “I don’t know, either, Jonas. You’ve been living here for years and you’ve never had trouble before, have you?”

“No.” His short answer, his pain, made her want to comfort him, but she didn’t know how to go about it.

And then he drew away from her one-armed embrace. “I don’t know how—” He cleared his throat. “Without the hay, I won’t be able to make it through the winter.”

“But I thought your neighbor was going to pay you for cutting his hay?”

He ran both hands over his face, smearing the soot and sweat even more. “It’s not enough. I needed that money for Breanna’s treatment. The doctor won’t treat her unless I’ve got the full amount.”

“I wanted to talk to you about that.” She’d forgotten, in all the busyness with haying and then her developing relationship with Jonas. “I’ve been reading some medical journals and I’m not entirely sure this doctor is telling you the truth about a new treatment for Breanna’s epilepsy. Are you certain the treatment is legitimate? Have you talked to any other doctors?”

His face hardened, lines forming around his eyes. “I’ve talked to as many doctors as I can get to. You know as well as I do that there’s not one in every town. This man is the only one who says he can treat Breanna.”

“Yes, but how do you
know?
Does he have other patients that he has treated? Has he published his findings anywhere?”

His face creased with an emotion she couldn’t name. She rushed on, afraid she’d lose her courage to speak up if she didn’t get it all out.

“I know this isn’t the most opportune time to bring it up, and I don’t mean to question you. But I’m concerned for Breanna. What if the procedure is dangerous? If you don’t know anything about it—”

Now his face darkened like a thundercloud. “Don’t you think I know it could be dangerous? So could the seizures. What if she had one while she was climbing stairs? Or banged her head against something sharp? Or fell in the creek? I’ve seen head injuries that have caused death before.”

She touched his arm, wanting to share his worry and pain, but he jerked away from her and began stalking toward the house. She had no choice but to follow, but she couldn’t keep quiet now.

“But what if the seizures aren’t permanent? Breanna’s mother didn’t have seizures—”

He whirled and the storm on his face had intensified. “What of her father? Do you know he didn’t have seizures? Can you be sure?”

“No, but I’ve written to Millie—”

“You
what?
” he thundered, his face turning red.

“I remembered her saying something—at least I think I remembered, about having some kind of episodes when she was a child, but I never knew her to have one—”

His face shuttered and he turned away from her again. “We should return now and check on the boys.”

“Jonas, please, will you listen to me?”

He didn’t respond, just marched toward the house, his shoulders no longer bent but now stiff with tension.

“Jonas—”

“I’ll have one of the boys take you and Sam and Walt home. I don’t think you should come back.”

Her breath caught in a tight knot in the center of her chest. “But there are still things to be done—the harvest—”

“We’ve managed without you for five years. I’m certain we can keep on.”

His cruel words hurt, sounding more like her father than she could bear. She quieted and trailed him back to the yard.

She knew it was her fault for bringing up Breanna’s condition when Jonas was so weary and upset about the fire. Maybe in a few days he would calm down and listen to reason. Perhaps then she could try speaking to him again about Breanna’s condition. Perhaps by then she’d receive a response from Millie.

But she so hated waiting.

* * *

Jonas sat at the long dining table, head in hands, long after the boys and Breanna had settled for the night, something that had happened far later than usual because of their subdued excitement from the fire.

He should be in bed himself, but he doubted he could sleep. Besides, he didn’t have to be up early tomorrow. There was no more hay to bring in.

He supposed he should be thankful that the hay already gathered near the barn hadn’t been ignited, but all he felt was numb.

How was he supposed to get his family through the harsh Wyoming winter with only half the hay crop?

He hadn’t been able to eat supper, still felt as if he would cast up his accounts at any moment. Sick in both body and heart.

He’d sent Penny away.

All he had to do was close his eyes to remember the feel of her arm clasped around his neck, her body pressed against his in comfort. For a scarce few moments, he’d felt like never before. He hadn’t forgotten about the devastation of his burned fields, not exactly, but the pain and despair had faded into the background. At the time, he’d felt as if he could conquer anything, as long as she was by his side.

But then she’d mentioned Breanna’s treatment and her letter to the Broadhursts, and Jonas hadn’t been able to see straight for his anger. He’d told Penny on that first wagon ride to Walt’s house that he didn’t want any contact with Breanna’s mother or grandparents. And she’d gone against his directive. Why had she done it?

Even if she meant well, what if her letter caused trouble for him? He remembered signing a bunch of papers when the Broadhursts had turned the infant Breanna over to him, but since he couldn’t read, he had no idea what he’d signed. They’d told him he would have complete custody of Breanna, and that he couldn’t contact them for more money, that the stipend they’d given him would be everything. That had been fine with him. After months in the presence of the stuffy, overbearing family, he’d wanted only to take Breanna and get away, to find a place where they could make their own family. And they had.

And now it was possible Penny’s letter had ruined all of that. He couldn’t lose Breanna.

Jonas closed his eyes, seeing again the hurt expression crossing Penny’s face when he’d told her it would be best if she returned to Calvin.

He’d been in a temper in that moment, hadn’t meant to push her away. But maybe it was for the best.

She’d started to become a part of his children’s life, of his life. And he wanted to believe she would stay, but how could she, when he had nothing to offer her?

His own parents had abandoned him, so had Pete when appearances dictated that Jonas had behaved immorally.

He wanted to believe Penny could really come to care for him, but he just couldn’t.

He was still afraid she would return to Calvin and find a husband that matched her society hopes. Someone wealthier than him, who didn’t have to worry about making a crop each year just to survive.

Maybe it was good he’d pushed her away. It would be safer if his heart didn’t get any more involved. Better for the children to get used to the separation now, instead of when she left later.

The problem was, the children were already attached to Penny.

And so was he.