Blackstone's Bride Page 3

  “They seemed to take to you.”

  “I was kind to them. It wasn’t difficult. They’re nice kids. They didn’t know a soul in Hollister, so the stage driver brought them to me. They were frightened. If they took to me, it was because they hadn’t much choice.” She frowned. “All except Tom.”

  “What did he do?” Jarrod asked.

  “Nothing outright,” she said quickly. “Thanks to you, I think the girls are in no danger from his temper.”

  “He told you about our talk.” He smiled in spite of his effort to remain serious.

  “Yes. The others were curious about what happened.”

  He suspected that she was too. She had tried to intercede for the boy. He had wondered about that. “Did you think I was going to take my belt to him?”

  “The thought never crossed my mind,” she said, her gaze dropping to her lap.

  “Liar.”

  Blue eyes met his. “All right. It’s just that you looked so serious, I wondered what you would do to him.”

  “Did I pass the test?”

  She grinned. “You did with Lily and Katie.”

  “How about with you?” he asked gruffly. For some reason he couldn’t explain, it mattered to him what she thought. His gaze narrowed on her, and her cheeks flushed a becoming pink.

  “Why would you care what I think?”

  “Because I’d like your help.”

  “With what?”

  “The children.”

  “I’d like to, Jarrod. But Hollister is too far away for me to do much.”

  “Yes, you made it clear the ranch is the farthest from town. But they do need looking after.” He thought for a few moments. “Lily is thirteen. That’s old enough to—”

  “You can’t do that to her!” Her voice rose and the note of outrage in it was unmistakable.

  Jarrod was intrigued. In about ten seconds she’d gone from sympathetic to blazing mad. His words had been the fuse that set her off. Firecracker. The nickname fit like a custom-made pair of boots.

  “Why not, Abby?”

  “Lily is a child herself. She’s too young to be responsible for three other children and a house. She lost her mother. Don’t take her childhood away from her too.”

  A whole range of emotions crossed her face: anger, pain, loss, regret. She’d let it slip that she’d raised her younger brother. He had a feeling she’d been forced into a position of responsibility at a young age. He was sorry about that. But he suddenly found himself with four children and a ranch to run. What did she expect him to do?

  “Abby, I don’t see as I have a choice.”

  “There are always choices.”

  “Do you have another suggestion?”

  She thought for a minute. “You need a wife.”

  He winced. Firecrackers were unpredictable, sometimes went off in your hand. And hurt like hell. If she had tried, she couldn’t have picked anything he wanted to talk about less.

  “I had one. That was one too many.”

  “Sorry,” she said, rubbing her forehead. “I keep bringing up a sore subject.”

  “It’s not sore, just closed.”

  “But it would be an answer.”

  “Not for me.”

  He’d put away the hurt right after Dulcy left. He closed that door and he wouldn’t open it again.

  “All right. But there’s got to be another solution.” There was a scraping noise out on the porch.

  “Did you hear that?” he asked as she looked at the window.

  “I thought I heard something,” Abby answered.

  He glanced in the same direction. They listened for a few moments, but there was no sound. “I don’t hear anything now.”

  “Me either. Must have been the wind.”

  “I suppose so. Now, back to the problem at hand. How am I going to manage a ranch this size and raise four kids?”

  “You could hire a housekeeper,” she said. “Someone to look after the house and the children.”

  A reasonable idea; he’d thought of it himself. There was just one drawback.

  “Housekeepers don’t grow on trees in this neck of the woods. How do you propose I find one?” he asked. An idea suddenly occurred to him. Couldn’t hurt to ask. “You interested in the job, Abby?”

  “Me?” Surprised, she pressed her hand to her chest and stared at him for a moment. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Dead serious.”

  She shook her head. “I already have a job.”

  “You seem to like them. Are you sure you won’t—”

  “No. My life’s in town.”

  “All right, then. Do you have any suggestions? This won’t be easy.”

  “No, but it’s not impossible. That’s where I can help. I know almost everyone in town. I’m sure I can find someone suitable for you.”

  “I’d have to meet her first.”

  She nodded. “When I find someone, I’ll bring her here to the ranch for you to meet.”

  “All right.” A thought occurred to him. Since he wasn’t the one who would be with her all day, his opinion wasn’t the most important. “The kids have to meet her too, and like her. If they don’t, that’s the end of it.”

  “Good point. I’ll do my best.”

  “Thanks, Abby. I appreciate this.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m glad to help.”

  Jarrod’s heart was a little lighter. He wasn’t sure whether it was because she would come up with an answer to his problem, or because he’d have an excuse to see her again. He found that thought a downright pleasant change. The next time she came out to the ranch, she would bring him something, or rather someone, he actually wanted and could use.

  “I don’t understand why Abby won’t be our housekeeper,” Katie complained. She settled herself more comfortably between Lily and Tom in the center of Lily’s four-poster bed. Oliver sat in his brother’s lap and sucked his thumb.

  “You heard her. She’s already got a job, dummy.” Tom glared at his sister. “Besides, we don’t need anyone. Why can’t we just take care of ourselves?”

  In her room, Lily had called another family meeting after Uncle Jarrod and Abby had gone to bed. As they huddled together on the mattress, the lantern on the table beside it sent all four of their shadows bouncing on the wall, making her nervous.

  This house was so big. Lily had never seen so many rooms in her whole life. They all had a bedroom to themselves, even Abby. Tom’s was next to her own, connected by a door. Katie was across the hall, beside their uncle’s room, and Oliver had the one closest to the head of the stairs. In case he had to make a run for it to the outhouse.

  They should have been asleep. Lily kept listening for a sound in the hall. They had to be quiet and make this fast.

  She looked at her brothers and sister. “Uncle Jarrod wants someone to look out for us. We all heard him say that.”

  “So why can’t Abby work here instead of town? She said she wanted to help.” Katie frowned.

  Lily thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. Something funny’s going on between her and Uncle Jarrod. They’re like two cats circling each other with their backs up.”

  “Maybe they don’t like each other,” Katie said. “But I like Abby.”

  Lily smiled at her sister. “Don’t worry. Uncle Jarrod won’t hire anyone we don’t like. He told Abby so. Remember?”

  Katie nodded. “I remember.”

  Tom snorted. “You don’t believe that, do you? Why should he care about us?”

  “‘Course he cares,” Katie said, kneeling on the bed with her hands on her hips. “I can tell he likes us.”

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Tom said.

  Lily tapped a finger to her lips. “Maybe she would change her mind if she can’t find anyone to be our housekeeper.”

  Tom’s eyes narrowed as he stared at her. “I know that look, Lil. What do you have in mind?”

  “Everyone listen carefully,” she said.

  Abby rolle
d over in the soft bed. Not quite awake, she tried to figure out what had disturbed her. She’d fallen asleep to the pleasant chirping of crickets mixed with the mournful call of coyotes. She was puzzled.

  Moonlight streamed through the lace curtains at the window, spilling pale silvery light into the room. A yellow-and-blue quilt covered the four-poster oak bed that matched the dresser on the wall across from it. This house had enough bedrooms to sleep half the United States Army, and all of them had been empty until now.

  She heard unidentifiable sounds down the hall and wondered if it was one of the children. Abby threw the covers back and jumped out of bed. She grabbed the quilt and wrapped it around her, covering her chemise and pantalettes, went to the door and yanked it open. Looking around, she noticed the door to Katie’s room was ajar.

  Then she heard Jarrod’s deep voice as he spoke softly to the little girl. Apparently, he wasn’t as sound a sleeper as she was, Abby realized, since he’d gotten to the child first.

  Abby moved forward and stopped in the shadow of the doorway. She started to ask if she could help. The words died on her lips as she observed the scene. Dressed only in denims, Jarrod sat in a rocking chair near the window, with Katie curled against him in his lap. Her light-colored curls rested against the sprinkling of dark hair on his bare chest as the girl trustingly snuggled in his arms. Abby couldn’t bring herself to disturb them.

  “Go back to sleep,” he said to the child.

  “I can’t.” Katie sniffled. “I saw Mama.”

  “It was a dream.”

  Something caught in Abby’s chest. Her heart ached, not only for Katie, but for all the children.

  “A mean man took Mama. I thought he was gonna take me too.” Her voice rose in fear and panic, one notch short of a wail.

  “Shhh,” he said. Jarrod’s arms tightened around her. “I won’t let anyone take you.”

  “What if he’s bigger’n you? What if you can’t stop ‘im?”

  “If he’s stronger than me, Gib will help.”

  “You mean Mr. Cochran? The man me and Oliver met after supper, down at the bunkhouse?”

  “Yup.”

  “What if he’s stronger’n Mr. Cochran?”

  “Then Slim will help. You met him too, along with Dusty Taylor. Remember?”

  She nodded. “He’s awful skinny. What if he can’t stop ‘im?”

  “Then we’ll get Dusty.”

  “What if all of you can’t keep him from taking me?”

  “If all of us together can’t do it, then we’ll follow his trail. We’ll ambush him, tie him up, and bring you home safe and sound.”

  “Really?”

  “Really,” Jarrod answered emphatically.

  Abby couldn’t help smiling at the awe in Katie’s voice. The child sounded surprised that any man could do all he promised. Abby suspected there hadn’t been any heroes in her short life.

  “Where’s Mama now, Uncle Jarrod?”

  The lump was back in Abby’s throat, nearly choking her. Tears burned her eyes. She’d lost her own mother, although not as young as Katie. But that loss at any age cut deep.

  “The angels took her to heaven.” There was a husky quality to Jarrod’s voice, but it only broke once.

  “Do you think she’s happy?”

  “I know she doesn’t hurt anymore.”

  “Do you think she misses me?”

  “No doubt about it.”

  “I sure do miss her. Why did the angels take her?”

  “I don’t know.” He sighed. “I guess it was just her time.”

  “How do you know when it’s time?”

  “We don’t. It just happens.”

  “What if you’re not ready to go? I miss Mama, but I don’t want to leave Lily, and Tom, and Oliver. And you.”

  “I don’t think God would take someone who’s not ready to be with Him.”

  “Really?” she asked, twisting in his arms so that she could look at his face.

  “Really.”

  “That means Mama must have been ready.” She thought for a few moments. “Mama worked awful hard. Maybe she wanted God to take her so she could rest.”

  “Maybe so—” He stopped and cleared his throat.

  Jarrod had a wellspring of patience that Abby would never have guessed at if she hadn’t seen and heard it for herself. He claimed to be inexperienced with children, but his instincts seemed to be working just fine.

  It was quiet for a few moments, then Katie piped up again with, “Lily said you and Abby act funny around each other.”

  Abby’s gaze darted to Jarrod’s face to see his reaction to the statement. One corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile.

  “Lily said that?”

  “Yes, sir. Do you and Abby act funny around each other?”

  He thought for a moment. “Nope.”

  “Then why did Lily say it?”

  “To others it might seem like we’re acting strange. But that’s the way Abby and I always are.”

  Abby felt awkward eavesdropping, but even more so now that their conversation had taken this turn. She started to go to her room, but Katie’s next words stopped her.

  “Do you like Abby?”

  She was curious about the answer to that one herself. The rocker creaked as Jarrod shifted his weight. “Do you like her?” he asked.

  The quilt slid a little, letting in a draft of chilly air as Abby put her hands on her hips and glared at him. Why couldn’t he just answer straight out?

  “I like Abby a lot,” Katie answered, yawning broadly. “So do the others. All except Tom.”

  “Why?”

  Her thin shoulders lifted in a shrug. “He’s dumb. ’Cuz Abby’s real nice. She took us over to the restaurant in Hollister and bought us fried chicken for lunch.”

  “That was real nice.”

  Katie nodded. “And she got us each a licorice whip before we left town. Said it was a long trip and it takes a long time to eat licorice. I don’t think it does. Do you, Uncle Jarrod?”

  “Does what?” he asked, distracted.

  “It didn’t take me hardly any time at all to eat my candy. It took a long time until we saw the ranch.”

  “Yeah. Hollister isn’t real close by.”

  “I don’t care. I like it here, Uncle Jarrod.”

  “I’m glad,” he said, stifling a yawn.

  “Are you sleepy, Uncle Jarrod?”

  “Are you?” he asked.

  There he goes again, Abby thought, not answering questions.

  Katie nodded. “I’m pretty tired.”

  “Then I’ll put you back under the covers.”

  He stood up with Katie in his arms, her small bare feet and spindly little legs visible below the hem of her nightgown. He put her down, pulled the blankets up underneath her chin, then pressed his knuckles into the mattress on either side of her, bracing himself.

  He hesitated for a moment, then leaned over and kissed her forehead. The sight of gruff Jarrod Blackstone putting that little girl to bed made Abby smile. It was just about the sweetest thing she’d ever seen.

  He touched Katie’s nose. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite. Y’hear?”

  “There are bugs in the bed?” Katie squealed. She sat up, pushed the blankets down, and stood up in the middle of the mattress.

  Jarrod sighed and sat on the bed, rubbing the back of his neck. Katie crawled into his lap and looked suspiciously at the sheets.

  “Do they really bite, Uncle Jarrod? Do they hurt? Why are there bugs in the bed?”

  He stood up and carried her back to the rocker. “It’s just an expression, Katie.”

  “What’s a ‘spression?”

  “It’s something people say that means something else.”

  “Why don’t folks just say what they mean?”

  “Y’got me.”

  “What does that ‘spression mean? The one about bedbugs?”

  Abby clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

  “It just means
sleep well,” he said.

  “How can folks sleep good with bugs in their bed? Don’t the bugs crawl all over ‘em? That’d tickle pretty good. Right, Uncle Jarrod?”

  “It would if there were really bugs. But there aren’t really bugs. Because it’s just—”

  “A ‘spression. Right, Uncle Jarrod?”

  “Right,” he said. His voice was tight, as if the edges of his forbearance were ragged.

  Abby knocked softly. Jarrod looked up at her as she walked into the room.

  “Hi, Abby,” Katie said. “Why’re you wearin’ that quilt?”

  “I don’t have nightclothes.”

  “Are you wearin’ clothes under there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your drawers?”

  “Yes.” Her cheeks grew hot.

  Jarrod chuckled. “What are you doing up?”

  “I heard noises,” she said truthfully. He didn’t need to know she’d been there for some time watching and listening.

  He shifted in the rocker. “Sorry we woke you. Katie had a bad dream.”

  “You must be a light sleeper. I didn’t hear her call out.”

  “I wasn’t asleep yet. Had a lot on my mind. It’s been quite a day.”

  “Me and Uncle Jarrod are talkin’ ‘bout ‘spressions. Do you know what that is, Abby?”

  “I sure do, sweetie pie.” She squatted down in front of the rocking chair and tweaked the little girl’s foot, which rested on Jarrod’s knee.

  Abby had the most absurd urge to put her hand on his thigh, just to see if it was as rock-hard as it looked. Another heated blush flashed across her face. Thank the Lord it was too dark for him to see.

  Abby cleared her throat. “Are you having trouble sleeping, Katie?”

  “A little. I had a bad dream. Uncle Jarrod and me been talkin’ ‘bout it.”

  “Among other things,” he said wryly.

  Abby glanced at him, then said to the little girl, “How about if I talk with you for a while so your uncle can get some sleep?”

  The child’s blond curls swung from side to side as she declined the offer. “You’re not big enough or strong enough. If the bad man comes for me like he did for Mama, I want Uncle Jarrod. He’s big. And he’ll get Mr. Cochran and Dusty and Slim. They’ll tie the man up so he can’t get me. Right, Uncle Jarrod?”

  “That’s right.” He met Abby’s gaze. “It’s a long story. You might as well go back to bed and get some sleep.”