An Honorable Cowboy

Determined single mother Willow Reames has one goal: to reunite with her sisters and begin a new life with them and her infant son. But when she’s unexpectedly stranded in the Montana wilderness—with her siblings nowhere in sight—she needs to rely on the kindness of Johnny Harding.

It’s more than honor that compels the half Native American cowboy to help the beautiful widow and her adorable baby. The little family evokes his masculine instincts to protect them. Soon woman-wary Johnny is cradling baby Adam in his arms and offering to assist Willow in finding her missing sisters. As their hearts slowly thaw, can Johnny convince Willow to trust him with the secret she’s keeping so, just maybe, they can have a future together?

Montana Cowboys: These brothers live and love by the code of the West

“What are you doing?”

“I’m not letting you ride all over the country by yourself, that’s for certain sure,” Johnny replied.

“You have a cabin to fix.”

“You have sisters to find. That outweighs a cabin.”

“You don’t need to do this.”

Johnny flicked the reins and they drove away from the station. “I do need to if I want to be able to live with myself.”

“That’s an odd thing to say.”

He spared Willow a brief glance full of challenge and stubbornness. “I don’t know what kind of men you’ve known in the past, but some of us live by principles, and my principles will not allow me to let a young woman and a baby travel unescorted across Montana.”

She opened her mouth, but could think of no reply, and snapped it shut.

A man with principles? She liked the sound of that. But it didn’t change her plans. Nor her vow to never again trust any man, because, to her sorrow, she knew words came easily.

Noble talk without noble actions was, in her mind, the worst sort of deceit.

LINDA FORD lives on a ranch in Alberta, Canada, near enough to the Rocky Mountains that she can enjoy them on a daily basis. She and her husband raised fourteen children—four homemade, ten adopted. She currently shares her home and life with her husband, a grown son, a live-in paraplegic client and a continual (and welcome) stream of kids, kids-in-law, grandkids, and assorted friends and relatives.

The Cowboy’s Baby Bond

Linda Ford

www.millsandboon.co.uk

The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing.

—Zephaniah 3:17

Dedicated to the memory of my grandson, Julien Yake, who passed away July 2015 at age nineteen; and to his mother who will forever mourn him.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Summer 1899

Near Granite Creek, Montana

Johnny Harding’s nerves twitched at the sharp, penetrating sound, like the wail of a cat. He pulled on the reins of his horse and reached for the rifle he always carried with him, as did almost every man in the rugged northwest part of Montana Territory. He scanned his surroundings for the source of the sound.

A wagon stood in the shadow of the trees to his left, far enough away he couldn’t make out the occupants, but from the list of the wagon, he suspected they might be needing assistance. A man simply did not ride by anyone in trouble out here where help was miles away, though Johnny wasn’t about to heedlessly ride into a trap, either. His fingers remained on the rifle as he approached the wagon.

A woman sat on the bench. He did a quick assessment of her. Dark brown hair, medium skin tone, dark brown eyes that seemed to hold a world of regret. She clutched a bundle of blanket in one arm. The sound seemed to come from that area. A baby, no doubt. An unhappy baby.

The wagon was piled with belongings—boxes and crates and a mattress tied on the top. Canvas partially covered the contents.

He slowed, waiting for the husband to make himself known. Slowly, Johnny eased the rifle to his knee, his finger resting on the trigger. His nerves tensed and he squinted into the trees, half expecting a man to jump out and demand his money and valuables.

He snorted. His saddlebags held nails and carpentry tools that he intended to use to fix up the Hamilton cabin. Hardly worth shooting a man for.

“Hello,” he called. “Looks like you could use some help.”

The woman turned to him. Emotions raced across her face—surprise, followed by welcome, and as quickly replaced with a fierce look. She didn’t answer.

“Are you in need of assistance?”

The woman glanced about. “I’m fine, thank you.”

Johnny edged closer, once again eyeing the trees, then darting his attention back to the wagon, alert for someone to leap from the box. He’d ride away, but until he knew the people could proceed, his conscience dictated he investigate further. “Ma’am, do you need help?” he repeated, now close enough to see the worry in her dark eyes and the fever-stained cheeks of the baby in her arms, whose cry threatened to pierce his eardrums. “Where’s your husband?” He spoke loudly to be heard above the infant’s cries.

She looked at him, eyes barely registering his presence. “He’s gone.”

“He left you here?” Johnny’s words carried enough anger for her to blink and look at him as if finally realizing he was there.

“He’s dead.”

Dead? The word speared through Johnny’s thoughts. When? Had the man died of whatever made the baby ill? “Is he there?” He indicated the wagon box behind her.

She shook her head. “It’s just me, my son and my gun.” She lifted a corner of the baby’s blanket and Johnny saw a revolver aimed at him.

His hand remained on the rifle as he judged how fast he could duck away. Probably not fast enough. He couldn’t believe she traveled alone in this unsettled area. “I mean you no harm. When I saw the wagon I thought you might be needing assistance.”

Their gazes caught and held, his unblinking as he tried to let her know she had nothing to fear from him.

The woman sighed and lowered the gun to her lap, ready should she need it again, but not a present threat. “My baby is sick.” She rocked vigorously, which did nothing to ease the plaintive cries. Perhaps it made her feel better. Johnny couldn’t say, having never had anything to do with a human baby. She hadn’t come right out and said she needed help, but it wasn’t necessary. Her predicament could be seen by anyone with eyes in his head.

“How about I fix the wheel and take you to the Sundown Ranch? It’s just a few miles that away.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “My stepmother, Maisie Harding, is good at taking care of sick people. Maybe you’ve heard of her.”

The woman shook her head. “If you would point me in the right direction...”

He sidestepped his big gray gelding, aptly named Gray, alongside the wagon and swung down to examine the wheel. Sensing the woman’s tension, and mindful of the gun in her lap, he talked as he looked things over, hoping it would assure her of his noble intentions. “Ma’am, I’m Johnny Harding. My pa, Big Sam Harding, is well-known hereabouts.” He glanced in her direction to see if she showed any sign of acknowledgment. Nope. Nothing. Just the barest glance before she turned her attention back to the baby, whose cries had subsided to whimpers. Thinking that wasn’t a good sign, Johnny quickly tightened the hub on the wheel. “That will hold you until you get to the ranch. Then I’ll fix it good and proper.”

He tied Gray to the back of the wagon and headed for the front. He’d see this woman and her child safely to the ranch and then he’d get on with his own plans.

His friend Thad Hamilton would soon arrive and Johnny had promised to have the cabin repaired by then. It would have been done already except he’d had to order in a few supplies, delaying his work. That left him little time to fulfill his part of their bargain. And he didn’t mean to do anything to discourage Thad and make him change his mind. Thad had left a broken man, besieged by the death of his sister. Coming back signaled he meant to get on with life.

Johnny paused as he neared the bench. The gun glistened in the sun.

“Ma’am, I’m going to climb up there and sit beside you. Don’t shoot me, okay?”

She gave him a steely look, then tipped her head ever so slightly.

She hadn’t spoken a word, but her warning rang inside his head as if she’d announced it with noisy church bells. She would shoot him in an instant should he try anything other than driving.

He eased onto the wagon seat beside her and took up the reins. “What’s wrong with the little one?”

“Besides he’s sick?”

Her answer amused Johnny, but he didn’t know if it was safe to laugh, so he simply quirked his eyebrows. “Just wondering if you know. Like maybe he’s teething...” He’d heard that mentioned as a cause of fussiness in a baby, but didn’t have any idea if it was that. “Or is he getting the measles or something...?” His voice trailed off.

“Measles? You think it’s measles?” She jerked the blanket down and pulled up a tiny shirt. He guessed the little one was about old enough to be walking on his own, but at the moment he seemed too tired to move. “Do you see a rash?”

“No, ma’am.” What he saw was a baby hanging limply in her arms, too weak to hold his head up. “What’s his name?”

“This is Adam.”

“Solid name.”

“First man. Figured the name might let my boy know he could start with a clean slate, just like Eve’s Adam.”

“Pleased to meet you, Adam.” Johnny touched the bare little knee and drew back to stare. “He’s so soft.”

She chuckled. “Babies are soft, aren’t they?”

“He’s the first one I ever touched.”

“That’s sad.”

He nodded. He might have had a baby of his own by now if things had gone according to his plan. In hindsight, he counted himself fortunate he didn’t. Trudy Dingman had never loved him. She’d only used him when she discovered herself in the family way from another man, who had disappeared. Not that she’d had the courtesy to tell Johnny about the baby she carried. When the man responsible showed up again, after Johnny and Trudy were engaged to be married, Trudy had run off with him. Johnny didn’t know why until a friend informed him of Trudy’s condition. It hurt to know he was only second best. But to know the woman he’d loved hadn’t been truthful, hadn’t trusted him, had scalded him clear through. In his opinion, without truth and trust, love could not exist.

“Ma’am, perhaps you could introduce yourself.”

“I suppose I should. Mrs. Willow Reames.”

“Sorry about your husband.”

She nodded, but her attention remained on the baby, who seemed to grow weaker by the moment. “How far is it to this ranch you told me about?”

“Sundown Ranch. We’ve about half an hour to go.” He wasn’t much for conversation, but had a few questions demanding to be asked. Mindful of the gun, he approached them carefully. “Where you coming from?”

“Wolf Hollow.”

He stared at the woman. “Wolf Hollow is three, four days ride from here. You came on your own?”

She met his look with a tipped-up chin and flashing eyes. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself and my son. Have been doing so since my husband died.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Three months.” Her gaze bored into Johnny’s.

He had no idea how to respond to her words or the silent challenge of her look. “That’s not long.”

“Long enough.”

Long enough for what? To forget the man’s death? To prepare for this trip? Neither made a speck of sense.

“Adam is getting worse. Can we go faster?”

Johnny urged the old mare into a trot, but she’d been on the road at least three days already and looked about spent. It crossed his mind to wonder how hard Mrs. Reames had pushed the animal.

“Ma’am, would you mind telling me where you’re headed?”

“Not at all. I’m on my way to Granite Creek. My sisters are due to arrive on the next train.”

“That’s tomorrow.”

“I had hoped to get there in time to find a house and get it ready for us to live in.” She made comforting noises and rocked Adam. “But first, I need to take care of my son. Shush, sweetie. Mama’s right here.” She began to croon a lullaby.

Adam opened his eyes and stared into his mama’s face with so much faith and love that Johnny’s throat tightened.

That was the look of trust.

He’d thought he’d seen that in Trudy’s eyes, but all he’d really seen were lies and deceit. His good friend Thad shared a similar experience, which, added to his sister’s death, had sent the man to a dark place in his mind.

It appeared far too many woman considered this normal behavior.

It had been a hard lesson, but one Johnny didn’t intend to repeat. He’d vowed to never again give his heart to a woman. Nope. Ranch work, his pa and stepmother, his brothers and now Tanner’s wife and kids were enough family for him.

Yet his attention went again to the little boy and that look of pure, simple faith in his mother’s ability to keep him safe.

It made Johnny determined to get them both to the ranch as quickly as possible. He flicked the reins and the horse picked up the pace. He glanced back at the wheel he’d adjusted and hoped it would hold until they reached the ranch.

He meant to do everything in his power to see the trust in that little boy’s eyes rewarded.

* * *

Willow took comfort in the weight of the pistol in her lap. She knew how to shoot, but the idea of sending a bullet into a man made her blood run cold. Though not as cold as the fear that had mounted with each passing hour since Adam had grown fussy last night. At first, she thought he was simply tired of the journey, but during the restless night, he’d developed a fever.

Her sense of triumph over leaving Wolf Hollow and its bitter memories had been replaced with worry over her son. Not that she regretted shaking the dust of that wild town off her shoes. Nor had her anticipation at seeing her sisters for the first time in a year and a half diminished.

But all that paled in comparison to getting someplace where she could tend her son.

She darted a look at the man beside her. Dark complexion, dark eyes and dark hair beneath a gray cowboy hat. Who was he and what had he been about before he noticed her predicament? Johnny Harding, he’d said. She might have heard the Harding name before but wasn’t certain. Mostly she’d kept to herself, tending Adam and trying to avoid Bertie, the man she’d been forced to marry. Forced was not exactly accurate. She’d agreed to marry him in order to ensure her younger sisters would have a home and her son would have a name. Under the agreement she’d made with Bertie’s father, in exchange she took on the responsibility of keeping Bertie on the straight and narrow. She’d soon discovered the futility of even trying.

She’d endured a steady barrage of insults from Bertie, who lamented the injustice of having to marry her in order for his father to finance his trip to the wilds of northwest Montana. Still, Willow would do the same again to help her sisters and her son.

Bertie’s death in a drunken brawl had freed her and left her with a nice bundle of gold dust that she meant to use to provide a home for her son and her sisters. She’d sent tickets to get her sisters to Granite Creek, the closest railway stop, where she meant to join them and start a new life.

This was Thursday. She’d hoped to be in Granite Creek by now, but had to travel slower than she planned as Adam grew restless and irritable. Poor baby.

The train didn’t arrive until Friday. Surely if she stopped and tended him, Adam would get better, so she could continue her journey.

She hummed a little tune to comfort the baby.

“How old is your boy?” Mr. Harding asked.

“He’s a year old.”

“I expect he’s provided you with lots of joy.”

She relaxed for the first time since this stranger had come to her aid. “He certainly has. I can hardly wait for my sisters to meet him.”

“Tell me about them.”

She recognized his attempt to ease her worry, and appreciated it. Bertie would have incited her by continually pointing out how sick Adam looked. He’d never let her forget Adam wasn’t his son, and had made it clear he had no affection for the baby.

“I haven’t seen them in over a year and a half,” she said of her sisters. “Celia will be fourteen now. She’s five years younger than me. Then there’s Sarah. I haven’t seen her since she was eight. I can’t believe she’ll be ten by now. I wonder how much they’ve both changed.” She knew she rambled, but talking made it harder to worry. “I just hope—” She couldn’t finish the thought. Too many things could go wrong. Hadn’t she learned that? The sudden death of her parents in a buggy accident. A foolish indiscretion with Adam’s father, an act born of sorrow. A loveless marriage. A son who truly had no father that he would ever know. Thankfully, it hadn’t been Bertie.

“You hope things work out.”

“Indeed.” She stroked Adam’s hot cheeks and waved the blanket to fan him. “However, they don’t always, do they?”

“Bad things happen to good and bad people alike. One would think life was random, even cruel. But I don’t think it is.”

She hadn’t meant the question to be answered, so when he spoke in thoughtful tones, she listened carefully, hoping he would provide an answer to the many doubts that circled in her brain. “Then how do you explain those random things?” she asked when he didn’t continue.

“Perhaps they provide us an opportunity to trust God.”

“Excuse me if I say that’s a pat answer that means nothing. My view is that God doesn’t much care what happens to us. He made us, then left us to manage on our own.” She shut her mouth with a snap. She should be a little more cautious. Men, she’d discovered, did not care to have a woman disagree with them. And she and Adam were pretty much at this man’s mercy. “Forgive me. I suppose I’m overreacting to recent events in my life.”

Mr. Harding only shrugged. “I feel no need to defend God.”

What a strange reply.

They turned onto a riverside trail that was smoother, more traveled. “How much farther?” she asked, as a frisson of fear caught at her lungs. Maybe they weren’t going to any ranch. Maybe this man meant them harm. How foolish of her to turn her wagon over to him, to trust herself and Adam to him. Had she not learned enough lessons about trusting men?

First, her fiancé had left her pregnant with Adam. Though she could hardly blame him that she’d turned to him for comfort when her parents died. Then there was Mr. Reames. He and her father had been business partners and, with no other family for Willow and her sisters, Mr. Reames and his wife had been named guardians of Willow and the girls. Upon learning of her condition, he’d threatened to turn them all into the street for the shame her pregnancy would bring. Marrying Bertie was her only option. But she’d failed to keep him from getting into trouble, and Bertie had turned into even more of a drinking, gambling, unkind man once away from his father’s control. As if that wasn’t enough, after Bertie’s death Mr. Reames had informed her the girls could no longer stay with him and his wife, seeing as Willow had failed to keep her part of the agreement. Yes, she’d learned more than enough about the dangers of trusting any man or his word.

Mr. Harding answered her question. “We’ll turn off toward the ranch just up there.” He pointed to a fork in the road. “Then you’ll get your first glimpse of the place.”

She heard the pride in his voice and couldn’t help but envy him. He obviously knew where he belonged. She stiffened her resolve. Soon she and the girls and Adam would have a place where they belonged, even if it was temporary and only rented. Most of all, they’d be together.

The wagon reached the fork, turned away from the blue, chuckling river and passed between some trees, their leaves dull with the summer heat. It slowed as the trail grew narrow and rough, and then broke through into sunshine again. Ahead, the trail passed between two rows of buildings. This was more like a small town than a ranch.

“This is Sundown Ranch,” Mr. Harding said as he rounded a low, rambling house and pulled up at the door. He touched Adam’s head. “I hope he gets better soon.”

Adam’s half-glazed eyes studied the man with solemn interest.

Willow kept her attention on her son, wondering at the trust she saw in them. So unlike his response to Bertie. Adam would always cling to her and hide his face when Bertie came near. Was it simply because her son was too sick to care or did he see something in Mr. Harding that he liked? She wanted to pull him closer and whisper caution in his ear. But Adam was too young to know not to trust anyone, let alone a stranger.

Mr. Harding jumped down and came around to guide her to the ground. “Is there anything you need out of the wagon?”

“Adam’s things, if you don’t mind.” She indicated where they were under the tarpaulin.

He took the valise out and set it on the ground at her feet.

“Thank you.” She didn’t take her gaze off the wagon. All her earthy belongings were in the back—a big bed, a chest of drawers, dishes and linens—enough to set up housekeeping in Granite Creek. Would her things be safe? Though, at the moment that concern was secondary to Adam’s needs.

“I’ll take care of the wagon,” Mr. Harding said, his expression kind.

“I appreciate that.” She had no choice but to trust him. At least he’d brought her to this house.

“Here comes Maisie now.”

Willow followed the direction of his gaze to see a woman crossing the yard. As soon as she was close enough, Mr. Harding introduced them.

“Welcome, welcome,” Mrs. Harding said. She glanced at Adam. “You have a sick baby. Come inside and we’ll take care of him.”

Willow followed her indoors, glancing around at the large kitchen with table and chairs to one side. Mrs. Harding indicated Willow should sit down.

“Do you mind undressing the little one so I can have a look at him?”

Willow wondered how she’d known the baby was a boy, but perhaps she spoke in general terms. Glad of someone to examine Adam and tell her what was wrong, Willow removed everything but the diaper.

Mrs. Harding looked at his chest and back, behind his ears and at the back of his knees. “I don’t see any evidence of a rash. How has he been eating?”

“Okay until yesterday.”

“Has he eaten anything different than usual?”

“We’ve been traveling, so...” Willow gasped. “Have I given him something that went bad?”

“There would have been other signs.” Mrs. Harding asked a few more questions. “I can’t see anything specifically wrong with him. It could be a combination of things. Teething and traveling might have him off-kilter.”

Adam, growing upset at all the prodding, grabbed at his ears and whined.

“There we go. He’s told us himself.” Mrs. Harding rubbed the side of Adam’s head. “Poor baby has an earache. Let’s deal with the fever first.” She brought water, poured something into it. “While you sponge him I’ll prepare some oil for his ears.”

Willow washed Adam’s little body with the tepid water. In a few minutes she could tell his fever dropped. “I’m grateful you know what to do,” she said as Mrs. Harding placed warm drops in Adam’s ears. What would she have done alone in the wagon? “Mr. Harding was kind to bring us here.”

The man himself returned at that moment and overheard her comment. “Better call me Johnny. There are far too many Mr. Hardings around here for anyone to know who you mean otherwise.”

Willow ducked her head. “Thank you for helping us, Johnny.” She stumbled over his Christian name. His presence filled the kitchen, making her forget her manners.

“And call me Maisie,” said the older woman. “Everyone does.”

“Then I’d be pleased if you’d call me Willow.” She smiled at Maisie, then lifted her head to let Johnny know she included him. His dark eyes seemed full of reassurance. What an odd thing to think, especially considering what she knew about men.

He stepped closer and touched Adam on the head. “How is the little fella?”

“He’s feeling better, thanks to your mother’s help.”

Adam looked at the man and smiled. Then the child held out his arms to him.

Johnny blinked. “Does he want me to hold him?”

Willow nodded, at a loss to understand why her son would go to a complete stranger when he’d grown up learning to stay away from men.

“Can I?” Johnny asked. Then he stepped back. “I’ve never held a baby.”

She would have refused her permission, but how could she deny her son this when he was so miserable? She shifted him into Johnny’s arms.

The man held the baby at an awkward angle, but Adam pulled himself up to look into those dark eyes and babble something. It almost sounded as if he was relating a tale of woe.

Johnny grinned at the baby’s nonsense and nodded as if to say he understood every word.

Adam patted the man’s cheeks, pressed his face to Johnny’s chest and fell asleep.

“Well, look at you.” Maisie sounded both surprised and pleased. “You have the touch.”

Willow put a hand to her heart as fear and trepidation flooded it.

Adam trusted this dark stranger. But what did a one-year-old know about broken promises and deceit?

Nothing. And she meant to do everything in her power to protect him from learning those harsh lessons.

Chapter Two

Johnny couldn’t take his eyes off the little boy in his arms. He’d never held a child this young. He’d seen them in town and at church, little ones in their mother’s arms or just beginning to toddle around, but he’d had little interest in them until Trudy started talking about children.

He’d thought she meant children with him after they were married, not a child already in her womb by another man.

But never mind that.

The little guy’s light brown hair ruffled as Johnny breathed, and he smoothed it. No one had ever told him how downy a baby’s hair would be. How tiny, yet perfect, their fingers, nor how intent their gaze. “What’s wrong with him?” He fought a surge of protectiveness that made him want to hold the baby tighter and keep bad things at bay.

“Earache,” Maisie said. “Not unusual for a child this age. I’ve given him drops. Why don’t you sit down and let him sleep.” She smiled at the baby in his arms. “He looks so content.”

As Johnny sat, his gaze met Willow’s. Her eyes blazed a warning, as if she feared he might do her son harm. He would reassure her he never would, but how was she to know if she could trust his words?

Willow turned away. “I surely do appreciate your help,” she said to Maisie. Then her attention went to the window and she twisted her hands together.

Johnny could only guess at the many worries of a widow woman with a sick child and two sisters about to join her. He wished he had a way to help her. Fixing the wagon was the best he could offer. He would do that task as soon as he could, but right now nothing would make him put the baby down while he slept so peacefully on his chest.

Maisie quietly tidied things in the kitchen while Willow continued to stare out the window.

The moments ticked by in contentment until Adam woke with a wail and arched his back.

“Did I do something wrong?” Johnny asked. Had he held the baby too tightly? Not firmly enough? Pinched his legs?

Willow eased the baby from his arms. “His ear is hurting.” She pressed her cheek to his forehead. “His fever has gone up again.”

Johnny’s jaw tightened, making his words come out hoarse. “I remember Ma doing that. Testing us with her cheek.”

Maisie rubbed his arm. “It’s nice when you remember her.”

Willow sat down and reached for the wet cloth to wipe Adam’s back and chest, but at Maisie’s words she gave her a puzzled look.

The woman turned to prepare more drops for the baby. “I’m the boys’ stepmother. Their own mother, Seena, died when Johnny was six. He worries he’ll forget her.” She dropped warm oil into Adam’s ears, ignoring his wail of protest.

As the little boy reached his arms out toward Johnny again, Maisie laughed. “He thinks you’ll rescue him from the tortures of me and his mama.” She brushed her hand over the baby’s head. “We’re only trying to help.”

“Seena? That’s a beautiful name.” Willow ignored her son’s protests and continued to sponge him.

“My ma was a Lakota Indian.” Johnny said the words without revealing anything of what he felt. He’d experienced enough hatred toward his mother’s race to want to gauge this woman’s reaction.

“I see.” Willow spared him a quick glance.

“Yes, that explains my dark coloring.” He didn’t try to keep resignation from his voice.

Many people hated half-breeds. Others voiced the opinion that the only good Indian was a dead Indian. Too many had lost friends and relatives in the many Indian wars and weren’t about to forget it.

Her hands stilled. “I’m sorry if I gave you cause to think it makes any difference.”

Her words eased a tension he’d been unaware of until it was gone. Though why it should, he couldn’t say. Except it did. Tension had always grabbed him at the negative opinions of people, even if he didn’t let anyone know.

“I’m sorry if I judged you,” he replied.

“It’s forgiven and forgotten.” She smiled at him, then turned her attention back to young Adam, who sent Johnny pleading looks.

His heart couldn’t take it and he strode from the room.

He walked past the wagon he’d parked by the barn. Willow’s belongings were safe there. No one on the ranch would touch them, knowing they would face the combined wrath of the Hardings if they did. The wheel would have to come off and be repaired, greased and then remounted. He’d make sure it was fixed well enough to take her and that little fella anyplace they wanted to go.

In the meantime, he had to take care of Gray and Willow’s horse. He’d see that the mare got good feed and good grooming. From the look of her hooves, it wouldn’t hurt to tend them, either.

He brushed both horses and gave them each a ration of oats, though Gray didn’t need a lot. The Hardings kept all their stock in good shape.

He was trimming the mare’s hooves when he heard the sound of approaching horses. He finished the task, closed the gate to the pen and crossed to the barn to wait for Pa and Levi. They’d have questions and he’d sooner answer them out here than in front of Willow.

They led their horses into the barn.

Levi halted at the sight of Johnny. “I thought you were going to stay at the cabin until you got it ready to live in.” His voice deepened. “For you and Thad.”

Johnny couldn’t undo the past, nor mend the hurt his younger brother felt at the drowning of Thad’s sister, Helen. Levi and Helen had loved each other since they were fifteen years old.

“Plans changed.”

“Again?” Levi no doubt referred to how plans had changed at Helen’s drowning. At the time of her death, Johnny and Thad had already formed a partnership for the purpose of breeding horses, training them and selling them. Broken by his sister’s death and the shock of learning of his girlfriend’s unfaithfulness, Thad had left along with his family, and the partnership had dissolved. Now Thad had healed enough to return, and Johnny meant to do everything he could to help him regain the confidence and enthusiasm he’d known in the man before those dreadful incidents.

Or Levi might be referring to the fact that Johnny’s wedding plans had changed abruptly. Or any number of things. It didn’t matter.

“A person learns to roll with the punches.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Levi didn’t sound the least convinced.

Pa had unsaddled his horse and now joined them. “You finished the repairs? Or changed your mind?”

Pa wasn’t too keen on Johnny moving into the cabin even if he would be sharing it with Thad. “Like I said, no need for you to live up there when you have a perfectly good home here.”

“Thad needs to start over.” As did he. There was no sense in dwelling on the past. Perhaps they’d both find healing in the future. “I’m still going to fix the cabin. Just got delayed a bit. That’s all.”

The two riders brushed down their horses and fed them.

Maisie rang the supper bell and when the men left the barn Levi noticed the wagon. “We got company?”

“Yeah.” Johnny told them about finding the young widow with her son. He told them everything except how good it felt to hold the little guy and how he figured he needed to take care of Willow and the baby.

What was he thinking? He didn’t feel that at all. That was a runaway thought that had no place in his head. Except it remained.

Big Sam patted Johnny’s back. “Son, you did the right thing.”

That explained it. The boys had been raised to do what was right even if it cost them. Making sure Willow and Adam were safe fell into that category.

They continued to the house, washed up at the stand outside, then entered. They trooped by Maisie, who waited at the doorway, each of them planting a kiss on her cheek.

Willow had brushed her hair into a tidy roll, though Johnny thought maybe it suited her better escaping to hang about her face. Adam wore a new little shirt and pants.

He let Maisie make the introductions.

As soon as Adam spied Johnny among the newcomers, he held out his arms to him.

Willow shifted him to her other side so he couldn’t see Johnny, but the baby squirmed around and reached for him.

“I could hold him,” Johnny offered, hoping no one would hear a hint of eagerness in his voice. He’d discovered something very satisfying about holding a baby.

“If you don’t mind.”

He took the child and grinned inwardly when the little guy buried his face against his shoulder as if expecting him to protect him from those other men. But as he sat next to Willow, Johnny could not meet Levi’s eyes across the table. Let him think what he would. This changed nothing.

They passed the food and filled their plates.

“I’ll feed him,” Willow said, and Johnny shifted the baby to her knee. She tried to persuade him to eat, but he turned away from the food. “Maybe when you’re feeling better.”

At the worry in her voice, Johnny wished for a way to make life easier for her. That, however, was not his responsibility. It would be her husband’s if he were alive. Being as she was a widow, he supposed it was God’s job to look after the details of her life. Even though she said she figured God wasn’t doing a good job of it.

As she did every evening, Maisie asked about their day, starting with Big Sam.

“I dragged a cow out of a mud hole down on the flats. It looks like we’ll have to move the cows away from that area.”

Maisie turned to Johnny next.

“You all know what I did. I brought Mrs. Reames and her son here.” He didn’t care to add to that. Not the disappointment of delaying his journey to the cabin nor the unexpected joy of holding young Adam.

“Willow,” she whispered. “Please call me Willow.”

Maisie asked Levi next.

“I saw Tanner. He says everyone is well.”

Maisie turned to Willow. “Tanner is the oldest of the Harding boys.” She got a distant look in her eyes. “I can’t believe he’s twenty-one and married. And now I have four grandchildren.”

“My brother married Susanne, who is raising her brother’s four orphaned children,” Johnny explained. “Now they’re a new family.” He’d never before thought how nice it sounded. Blame Adam for making him realize he might be missing something by shutting his heart and life to the possibility of experiencing the same kind of joy and belonging. But his experience taught him he could not expect to fare as well as his big brother had.

Maisie sighed. “I can’t believe how time has flown. When I married your pa, you—” she looked at Johnny “—were eight and you—” she looked at Levi “—were seven. And now look at you. All grown up at twenty and nineteen.” She emitted another deep sigh.

Levi chuckled. “But every minute of it has been fun, right?”

Maisie’s face became wreathed in a smile. “It has indeed.” She turned to Willow. “My dear, tell us about your day. Where are you from and where are you headed?”

Willow repeated the story she’d told Johnny, of being widowed three months ago and now expecting her sisters to join her in Granite Creek.

Maisie patted her hand. “I’m glad you’re getting a chance to start over. I firmly believe in new beginnings.” She then gave a report of her day—how the garden progressed, the birds she’d enjoyed. “And best of all, having Willow and Adam here for a visit.” She smiled warmly at the young woman.

Johnny saw the wariness in Willow’s eyes before it shifted suddenly to thankfulness. “I’m grateful you were nearby and could help,” she said.

The meal ended and the men went outdoors again, as much to escape the heat of the house as to finish their work.

Johnny went to the wagon, not surprised when Levi followed.

“Never thought you to be the kind of guy to hold a baby that wasn’t your own.” His brother paused. “Hadn’t even pictured you holding your own. Kind of figured you to be the sort to leave that all to the missus. ’Course, you’d have to get married first.”

“And you know I don’t intend to do that.” He contemplated the repair on the wagon, planning to get blocks to hold it while he removed the wheel.

“Like Ma says, it’s good to start over.”

Johnny straightened and faced his brother. “You saying that for your sake or mine?”

Levi’s teasing grin vanished in a flash of pain.

Johnny wished he could pull the words back. He had no desire to bring up hurtful memories for his brother. “I’m sorry. Forget I said that. In case you’ve forgotten, I am planning to start over. Me and Thad.”

Levi snorted. “I doubt that’s what Ma meant.”

Johnny shrugged. “Not all of us can find what Tanner found.”

“You mean a woman like Susanne or a ready-made family?”

“Yup.” Let Levi interpret that any way he liked.

“I saw the look on your face when you held that baby. Seems a ready-made family might be to your liking.”

“I played second fiddle, second best to the father of a child with Trudy. Sure as guns don’t plan to do that again.” Johnny marched away to find blocking material.

He’d fix the wagon and send Willow and Adam on their way just as soon as the boy was deemed fit to travel. Then he’d go to the cabin and prepare it to live in.

That was his plan and he meant to stick to it. Not even the downy head of a little boy would change his mind.

* * *

Willow stared at the door after the men left. Were they what they appeared to be? Big Sam, a man of considerable size, smiled so tenderly at his wife and bestowed looks of approval at his sons...and the two grown sons were so polite.

She swallowed hard, trying unsuccessfully to ease the lump in her throat that made it almost impossible to breathe. Her own father had been like that. He’d said he loved having three daughters and she’d never seen any hint that he didn’t mean it. She’d known nothing but affection and approval from him.

She shook off the ache that had become part of her every breath since her parents’ deaths. In a day she would be reunited with her sisters, and together they’d again create the Hendricks family.

“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

Johnny 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.”

She turned to stare at the man who called out, in time to see Johnny ride up to her side.

She blinked, as if to clear her vision, but when she reopened her eyes, he was still there.

He reached for her hands and unwound her fingers from the reins.

It took forever for her mind to begin functioning again. She looked behind her and saw nothing but twin tails of dust as the men rode away. She brought her gaze back to him. “What...? Where...?”

He grinned. “They didn’t stick around once they saw the scales were balanced.” He leaned back to check on Adam, who gurgled in pleasure. “Why, I think the little scamp enjoyed the race.” Johnny regarded Willow with some concern. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

She shuddered. “I’m fine. But where did you come from?”

He swung off his horse and reached up to lift her down. It never crossed her mind to refuse or wonder about his intentions.

Her knees rattled, so she couldn’t stand on her own, and she clung to his arm.

Adam climbed from his little nest and crawled toward them. Johnny took the boy in one arm and, with Willow clinging to the other, led them to a grassy spot. “Let’s sit down for a few minutes until you’re feeling better.”

How did he know her stomach alternately clenched and rolled? Was it so evident in her expression? Not that it mattered. She gratefully sank to the ground, glad that Johnny had Adam. Her arms were too weak to trust herself to hold him.

“Who were those men?” Her voice came out in a frightened whisper. She must get herself under control. This weakness could not be allowed. She must be strong and in control.

“I’ve never run into them before, but rough men pass through from time to time. I expect we’ve seen the last of those two.”

She shuddered again. “I certainly hope so.”

Johnny edged forward so he could look her directly in the eyes.

She met his gaze and felt her fear instantly abate. She hoped he saw nothing but courage in her glance. She repeated her question. “Where did you come from?”

He smiled gently, almost undoing her determination to be strong on her own. Wouldn’t it be nice to feel a pair of sturdy arms about her? No, she would never again trust a man’s arms to shelter her.

“I got as far as where I found you and little Adam yesterday.”

Hearing his name, Adam chuckled. “Man,” he said. “Man.”

Any other time, Willow would have been thrilled to hear him say a word she could understand, but right now she wanted to know why Johnny was there.

He paused to grin at Adam. “Me, man. You, boy.” Then he shifted Adam to one side so he could give Willow his attention. “When I got there I knew I couldn’t go on. I felt responsible to see you and your sisters get settled in your own home. So here I am.”

“I have to say I’m thankful. Those two men were frightening.”

“Who was responsible for the shot I heard before I got here?”

She grinned at him. “That would be me. I needed to scare them off.”

He shook his head. “Sure am grateful you didn’t try to scare me off yesterday.”

“You were a gentleman or I would have.” They considered each other at length until a chill raced up her spine. What was there about this man that threatened all her hard-learned lessons?

She pushed herself to her feet and reached for her son. “Thanks for your help. Now I’ll be on my way.”

Johnny rose, too, and shifted Adam to his hip as if he’d done this all his life. He led the way back to the wagon, grasped his horse’s reins and, using his free hand, tied them to the back, then offered Willow a hand up to the bench.

She hesitated. “You’re coming with me?”

“Thought I would, if you have no objections.”

Objections? She had plenty of them. “None at all.” Where had those words come from? She tried to clear her thoughts. Then gave up and shook her head as she settled herself on the bench. He handed her the baby and climbed up beside her, then drove across the ford with an ease that made her feel safe. Maybe it didn’t hurt to accept help once in a while.

They said little as they continued on toward the town. She tried to ignore Johnny’s presence beside her as she planned what she would do as soon as they arrived. “Where will be the best place to ask about houses to rent?”

“I’d suggest Mr. Marsh at the general store. He knows pretty much what’s going on in the town. I’ll take you there first, if you like.”

“Yes, please. What time does the train come in?”

“There was talk about changing the schedule, so I can’t rightly say.”

What if her sisters had already arrived and she wasn’t there to meet them? What would they do? If they hadn’t changed greatly, Celia would be angry and set off to find her own way, and Sarah would go along because she didn’t have any choice, but she’d protest the whole way, saying they should just wait.

Soon the wagon approached the town. It appeared to be a decent size, which provided encouragement. The children could go to school here and Willow could find employment rather than deplete her little stash of gold.

They pulled up at a store and before she could move, Johnny hurried around to lift her and Adam down and then escort them up the steps and inside. She breathed deeply. It had been a long time since she’d been in a store that didn’t reek of tobacco smoke and unwashed bodies. For the most part, the populace of Wolf Hollow cared more about finding gold than they did about cleanliness.

“How do, Johnny. How’s your folks?”

Willow’s gaze followed the sound to a man at the end of the counter, a big canvas apron covering most of him. Mr. Marsh, she presumed.

“Just fine.” Johnny introduced Willow to the owner of the general store. “Mrs. Reames is looking for a house to rent.”

“Hmm.” Mr. Marsh rubbed his chin several times. “Only thing I can think of offhand is the one at the end of the street behind the hotel. It belongs to the Sears family, but they left last fall. I’m sure he won’t mind you using it. I have his forwarding address. You can write him and make arrangements with him. Now, mind you, it’s a little run-down on the outside. I haven’t been inside, so can’t speak for what it’s like. But it’s about all there is at the moment.”

“I’ll take it.” She didn’t care what it looked like, only that her family could be together. “Is there a key?”

“Doubt it’s locked, but if it is, just look over the doorjamb.”

She jerked about. “Do I hear a train whistle?”

Mr. Marsh consulted his watch. “Yup and right on time.”

“I’ve got to go. I’ll take the house and contact the Sears family. Thanks.” She hurried out the door, not surprised that Johnny beat her to the wagon. In minutes they were on their way to the depot.

They pulled up to the platform as the train chugged to a halt, releasing a gust of steam.

Again, Johnny helped her from the wagon, and carried Adam as they went up the stairs to the platform.

Willow rocked back and forth on her tiptoes. “I can hardly wait to see them.” She tidied Adam’s shirt. “Soon you’ll see your aunties and they’ll see you.” She laughed for the sheer pleasure of the occasion.

Adam gurgled and turned back to Johnny. “Man.”

Johnny looked pleased at the baby’s attention. But Willow had eyes only for the train. The conductor swung down and placed a step stool in place. He offered his hand to the first passenger to disembark—an older woman with a black satchel. Then two businessmen stepped out, and a cowboy who went to claim his horse from farther down the platform.

Willow waited. Where were her sisters? Why weren’t they getting off? She held her breath until she felt faint. The conductor crossed toward the station house.

Willow stared at the empty entrance to the train. Where were they?

Slowly it dawned on her. They weren’t getting off.

She raced toward the train and scrambled aboard, ignoring the call from the conductor. “Ma’am, no need to rush. We aren’t leaving for half an hour.”

She stood in the empty aisle. Every seat was vacant. Just to be sure they weren’t playing a trick, she called, “Celia, Sarah, where are you?” She went the entire length of the car, looking behind each seat, till she reached the end. “Where are they?”

Johnny had followed her. “I think you better ask the conductor if he’s seen them.”

Her pulse hammered in her ears. “If they didn’t get on...” She shook her head. What had befallen them?

Johnny guided her down the steps, across the platform and into the station, where the conductor conversed with the ticket agent.

“My sisters,” Willow blurted out. “I was expecting them. Two girls. Ten and fourteen. Celia and Sarah Hendricks. Were they on the train?”

“Those two. Yes, they were on it. They had quite a little argument, then got off back at Martens. We waited as long as we could, but they didn’t come back. I wondered what happened to them, but it wasn’t my business, now, was it? The older girl seemed to know what she was doing.”

“Martens? Where is that?”

“’Bout fifty miles east.” The conductor turned away, his business done.

Willow sank to a nearby bench. Her sisters had gotten off. She thought of the men who had recently accosted her, and reached for the conductor’s sleeve to get his attention. “Were they in some kind of trouble? Was someone bothering them?”

“No, ma’am. I made sure no one did. Like I said, they argued. Seems to me the older one wanted to do something the little one didn’t care for. That’s all I can say.”

Willow rocked back and forth as disappointment and worry twisted through her. There was only one thing to do. She pushed herself to her feet.

“I must go find them.” She took Adam from Johnny, ignoring the baby’s protests, and marched out to the wagon.

Johnny followed and clambered aboard.

“What are you doing?”

His jaw muscles bunched. “I’m not letting you ride all over the country by yourself, that’s for certain sure.”

“You have a cabin to fix.” From what Maisie had told her, that seemed very important.

“You have sisters to find. That outweighs a cabin.”

“You don’t need to do this.”

He flicked the reins and they drove away from the station. “I do need to if I want to be able to live with myself.”

“That’s an odd thing to say.”

He spared her a brief glance full of challenge and stubbornness. “I don’t know what kind of men you’ve known in the past, but some of us live by principles, and my principles will not allow me to let a young woman and a baby travel unescorted across Montana.”

She opened her mouth, but could think of no reply and snapped it shut.

A man with principles? She liked the sound of that. But it didn’t change her plans. Nor her vow to never again trust any man, because, to her sorrow, she knew words came easily.

Noble talk without noble actions was, in her mind, the worst sort of deceit.

Chapter Four

Johnny turned the wagon around to head back to the store.

Willow grabbed his arm. “Where are you going? We have to go east.”

“We will, but I plan on being prepared. Fifty miles and back will take us several days. We’ll need food and water and supplies, and some oats for the mare if we expect her to carry us.”

Willow swung her head back and forth. “I don’t like the delay.”

He understood her concern to find her sisters. “A few minutes now will save us hours of regret later.” He stopped at the store. “No need for you to come in. I’ll pick up what we need.”

Her glance challenged him. He half expected her to argue, demand that they race after the girls without thought of food and supplies. Then she nodded. “I hope this won’t take long.”

At her easy agreement he released his breath. Perhaps she realized that arguing would only delay their departure. “I’ll be as quick as I can.” He hurried inside, ordered enough staples to last a few days and rushed back out with them, fearing she wouldn’t wait. With relief he saw the wagon and its occupants still there, and he stowed the box of supplies.

“I’ll have to make one more stop.” Johnny went to the feed store and purchased a sack of oats. He looked at Gray. Should he leave the horse at the livery barn or take him along? He decided on the latter. A man never knew when he’d be wanting a horse to ride.

“That’s it,” he said, climbing back onto the seat and flicking the reins. “We’ll be on our way.”

Willow held Adam on her knee and strained forward as if she could make the horse go faster. But Johnny knew he’d have to pace the old girl if he expected her to complete this journey.

“You’re going to get an awful crick in your neck if you sit like that the whole trip.”

Inch by inch, she eased back, until she looked halfway comfortable.

They left Granite Creek behind and followed the dusty road east. Johnny did his best to avoid the potholes and stay in the well-worn ruts, but sometimes the holes couldn’t be avoided. The wagon wheels dropped into another, and Willow was jostled against him. Adam merely laughed.

She righted herself. “At least he’s enjoying this.” She sounded aggrieved.

“Willow, I know you’re worried, but I assure you we’ll find your sisters. In the meantime, you might as well relax and enjoy the scenery.” And the company, he almost added. But they were together simply out of necessity. Her need to find her family, his to make sure she got safely settled. After that? Well, he meant to move on with his plans. He owed it to himself, but more so to Thad. It took effort to move past the death of a sister and the treachery of a girl he’d trusted. Johnny meant to be there for his friend each step of the way.

Speaking of sisters... “I’m surprised your folks let your sisters travel across the country on their own.”

“My parents have been dead two years.”

“You’ve lost your husband and your parents? That’s tough. I’m sorry.” Words were so inadequate. He wished he could do something practical to express his sympathy. Helping her find the girls would have to suffice. “Your sisters have been living somewhere. Shouldn’t the people they’ve been with be concerned about them traveling alone?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Reames are their guardians. Or rather, they were.” The look Willow flung at Johnny clearly expressed anger. But surely she was not angry at him. His questions had been innocent enough.

“Were? What happened?”

“When my husband died, they refused to keep the girls any longer.”

“What? Why, that’s downright dishonorable.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Johnny mulled over the information. Things began to fall into place, though they made no sense. “Your married name is Reames. Any relation?”

“I married their son.” The words were spit out as if they were bitter to the taste.

The more she told him, the less Johnny understood. “Had the girls done something to make them angry?”

“No, I did.”

“What could you possibly do that would justify them closing their home to your sisters? Seems they should be more than willing to forgive it, if only so they could enjoy getting to know their little grandson.”

She wrapped both arms about Adam, pulling him into a cocoon of safety. “That will never happen.”

“Never? Surely they’ll change their mind when they get over their grief.”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Johnny longed to understand this unusual situation, but he must respect her wish to end the conversation.

In the ensuing silence, the little he knew about her went around and around in his head. Her parents had died two years ago. She hadn’t seen her sisters in almost two years. Were the facts connected? How long had she been married? From what she’d told him, he guessed her to be nineteen years of age. Wouldn’t that make her seventeen when her parents died? Was she married before then? She must have been.

“I know how death changes a person’s plans.” He told her how Levi had been planning to marry Helen. “But she drowned. After that, her family packed up and left. Thad—he’s the man who is going to live in the cabin I’m repairing... Huh.”

The truth suddenly hit Johnny. He didn’t care if he lived there or not. It was all for Thad’s sake.

Willow gave him a questioning look. “Huh, what?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Might help ease my mind to think about something besides my missing sisters.”

If Johnny could do that, he would tell her almost everything. “Okay, here goes. Helen had a brother, Thad. We’ve been best friends for years. He and I were raising horses together. We had plans to breed fine draft horses and break them. No one hereabouts raises the big animals. They are all brought in from east or south. We already had half a dozen broodmares and a fine stallion. But when his sister died, it seemed like Thad lost a goodly portion of himself. Then he discovered the girl he thought he loved had been secretly seeing another man. Between the two things, he almost lost his mind. He didn’t want anything more to do with the horses and insisted we sell them to a breeder over in Wyoming.

“Nothing mattered to Thad anymore. It was like watching him die inside. He moved away with his parents and I didn’t hear from him all winter. But a few weeks ago I got a letter. He wants to buy back the horses and bring them here so we can continue with our plans. He’s going to live in the house where Thad’s family lived before Helen’s death.”

Willow had shifted so she could watch Johnny as he related his story.

“I told you it was a long one.”

“So you need to fix the cabin before he returns.”

“There’s been a little damage to it—you know, shingles missing, a window broken, the porch sagging.”

She nodded. “Are you worried he won’t stay if it’s not in good repair? Like maybe he isn’t really committed to this partnership between you two?”

Her question startled Johnny. Was that his reason for being so dedicated to this task? Except how dedicated could he be if he’d dropped everything to escort Willow and Adam around the country? Face-to-face with the thought, he had to admit it held some truth.

“I suppose I am afraid he’ll change his mind again, maybe return to the black mood he was in when I last saw him, so I’m doing everything I can to see he doesn’t have any reason to do so.” Johnny met her eyes, saw understanding and compassion.

“I know what it’s like to wonder if you can trust someone.”

“I trust Thad.”

“So long as nothing goes wrong. That’s not trust.”

“Like I said, death changes things.” Johnny had to make her understand, if only to prove he trusted his friend. “I think by coming back, Thad is confronting his pain head-on. I want to help him heal. I believe if he sees the cabin damaged he will only see how things go bad. If I have it repaired, he’ll see that it’s okay to remember the good times.” Johnny shrugged, more than a little embarrassed by his philosophical take on the matter. “It’s like the Bible says, ‘Blessed are they that mourn; for they shall be comforted.’ I guess if he comes back I hope he can mourn his loss and move on.”

Willow stared straight ahead, her shoulders drawn up and her back rigid.

Johnny wanted to touch her, ease the strain he saw, but feared she would be offended. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “He’s fortunate to have a friend like you.” She eased back.

Adam, who until now had been happily playing with his mother’s fingers, arched his spine and tried to escape her hold.

“He’s not sick again, is he?” Johnny asked. It seemed foolish to drag the little guy all over the countryside when he’d been ill the day before.

She lowered her cheek to his forehead. “No fever. He’s just getting restless.” She poured a little water into a cup and held it for Adam to drink, then turned and placed him in the area she’d prepared for him. There was room enough for him to stand or sit or move around a bit, yet he was safe from falling out. He stood and bounced up and down.

“Man, man.” He grinned at Johnny.

Johnny grinned back. “He’s a friendly little guy.” The words weren’t even out when he recalled what she’d said about Adam not going to others...especially his father. How odd. Johnny wanted to ask about that, but feared he’d be intruding on her grief. “We’ll stop soon and have dinner.” Normally, when he or his brothers were out doing something, they didn’t stop at noon, satisfied with grabbing jerky or biscuits from their saddlebags. But he guessed a woman and a child might need a little more care.

Up ahead, some leafy cottonwoods beckoned and a stream flowed nearby. “There’s a good spot.” He turned the wagon aside and pulled into the shade. He helped Willow from the wagon, then lifted Adam to the ground, where the little guy toddled about.

“He’s glad to be down where he can move around,” Willow said.

Johnny would have enjoyed watching Adam explore, but he had to tend to the horses, and took them both to water, then left them to graze.

By the time he returned, Willow had spread a quilt and brought out a loaf of bread and some cheese from the supplies he’d purchased.

“I will pay for our share of the food,” she murmured, not meeting his gaze. “You don’t need to be taking care of us.”

“We’ll see.” He had no wish to argue over petty things.

“You’re trying to avoid an argument.”

He shrugged. “What’s wrong with that?”

They studied each other. He couldn’t say what she saw, apart from a half-breed man with dark skin. Did she see the guardedness that he wore about him like armor? Did she see his determination to never again open his heart to any woman?

On his part, he saw a woman with flyaway brown hair that had again escaped every hairpin and hung about her shoulders. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask why she wasted time trying to control it, but then he thought better. Much too personal for two reluctant traveling companions. He saw—or did he sense?—a guardedness that matched his own. He wondered at the cause. Though perhaps he knew. She’d lost parents and a husband. That seemed enough to make a person build walls around her heart.

A smile brightened her eyes even before it reached her lips. “Avoiding an argument seems a good thing to me.”

He grinned. “Me, too. Do you want me to ask a blessing on the food?”

She blinked.

He guessed she hadn’t thought of grace.

“That would be nice.” She held her son’s little hands as she bowed her head.

Adam gave Johnny a wide-eyed, curious look.

Johnny closed his eyes and prayed, keeping it short and simple, though he added a request for safe and successful travels.

They ate the plain meal. He wished they had time to make coffee, but there seemed no point in starting a fire. As Willow gathered the dinner things together to wash with water from the stream, the little boy tackled Johnny, making him chuckle.

He caught Adam and swung him into the air, earning a rolling belly laugh.

Willow stared at them, a tight look on her face.

Johnny lowered Adam to the ground. “Will I hurt him, doing that?”

She shook her head. “He loves it.”

“Then what did I do to make you look at me that way?” Adam clung to his leg, getting a free ride as Johnny moved closer to Willow, wanting to read her eyes for a clue as to what worried her.

She returned the dishes to the wagon, seeming to use it as an excuse to avoid looking at him again. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Can we resume our travels?”

“I’ll get the horses.” He brought them back, hitched up the mare and tied Gray to the rear. Willow already sat on the bench, Adam perched on her knees. There was nothing to do but climb up beside her.

They returned to the road and continued their journey, but the silence between them that had earlier been comfortable now crackled with tension.

“Willow—”

“Adam is ready for a nap.” She laid him on a quilt in the back and he fell asleep sucking two fingers.

Johnny had no intention of spending the rest of the day with this strain between them. “Willow, I know I did something, or said something, that upset you. I’d apologize but I don’t know what I did. I think it fair that you explain it to me.”

* * *

Willow’s thoughts twisted and turned. Was there anything more hurtful than seeing a man like Johnny play with Adam? If only she could dream of someone like him. Her chest muscles clenched with a thousand painful regrets.

“It’s nothing you did. Not really.”

“There is no one else here to blame for the way you looked at me.”

There’s me. But she wouldn’t tell him that, nor what she meant by the words. She would carry the blame the rest of her life. If only for her own sake, she wouldn’t care so much, but her mistakes would hurt Adam and perhaps her sisters. At least her marriage to Bertie had given Adam a name, though she wished it wasn’t Reames, one that carried too many regrets.

Johnny continued to gaze at her, his dark eyes full of hurt and compassion. An odd mixture. Was it hurt on his own behalf and compassion for the hurt he might see in her?

The thought compelled her to say more. “It’s just that seeing you play with Adam makes me realize all the things I can’t give him.”

“I don’t understand.”

Of course he didn’t, because she hadn’t explained it, nor did she plan to. “He will never know a father’s love.”

Johnny’s eyes narrowed. “You are a fine-looking woman. There will be lots of suitors, I’m sure.”

“Thanks.” She clasped her hands together to keep from tidying her hair. “But I will never remarry.” To do so meant telling the whole truth about her marriage to Bertie. It was too great a risk. How could she be certain a man wouldn’t look at Adam differently if he knew the facts? Bertie had despised the baby because of the circumstances of his birth. He’d had plenty of mocking, ugly words to describe her beautiful son.

His comments to Willow had been cruel, as well. He’d accused her of being a loose woman, and every time she went out, he’d asked if she’d had a rendezvous with a lover. No, she would not subject either of them to such a life. “I will never marry again.” She hadn’t meant to say the words aloud nor quite so vehemently.

Johnny jerked about and faced forward.

She stole a quick look at him, then studied her hands. “So you see, Adam will never know a father’s love.” Her words sounded weak even to herself, but she couldn’t explain she meant more than remarriage. Poor little Adam would never know love from Peter, who had outright rejected both of them. He’d never known it from Bertie. Wouldn’t even know it from Bertie’s father, whom everyone assumed was Adam’s grandfather.

Johnny began to speak, so softly she had to lean closer to hear him. “That’s your grief talking. I saw the same thing with Thad. He couldn’t imagine life could go on. Couldn’t believe in dreams. Couldn’t make plans. But in time, grief loses its grip and it becomes possible to live again. To laugh. To plan.” Johnny turned to her. “Even to marry again.”

He held her with his powerful gaze. She couldn’t look away. Couldn’t think. Words came to her mouth that she dare not speak, and yet they pushed at her lips as if they must be spoken. She pressed her collarbone as pain stabbed at her chest. She dare not confess the truth about Adam. For his sake she must never speak of it. With a great deal of effort she jerked away from Johnny’s gaze.

If she ever married again it would not be for love. Love could not exist with secrets, and Adam’s parentage must remain a secret.

“Remarriage is not for me and it has nothing to do with grief.” Little did Johnny know that she did not grieve Bertie’s death except for one fact. It had caused her sisters to lose their home, but only because Mr. Reames was so uncharitable and untrue to his word. He’d led her to believe the girls would be safe if she married Bertie, which she had done. His death was in no way her responsibility. She’d done her best to persuade him not to drink. He’d simply laughed in her face and told her she couldn’t make him do anything. Sadly, it was true.

Johnny continued to watch her. Knowing he would say more on the matter, perhaps point out the benefits of a marriage, she decided it was time to turn the conversation to his personal life. “You’re a fine-looking man. I expect there are lots of young ladies eager for your attention. Anyone in particular?”

He cranked his head to look straight ahead.

Seemed she had touched a sore spot.

“No one in particular. Like you, I’m not interested in marriage.”

She gave a disbelieving snort. “Except I’ve already tried it. Have you?”

“Thankfully, I escaped just in time.”

“Really?” She tried and failed to imagine what might have gone wrong. Not only was Johnny fine-looking, she’d seen all kinds of other qualities a young lady might admire—his gentle nature, his kindness, the way he treated Adam.

Perhaps the young lady had died. But... “You said you ‘escaped.’ Isn’t that an odd word choice?”

One shoulder lifted in a shrug that she guessed was meant to inform her he didn’t care.

Now her curiosity kicked in. That one little word—escaped—informed her that whatever had happened, it had been hurtful. For some reason, Willow wanted to comfort him.

Finally he replied, “It’s not odd if it fits.”

“I see.” Except she didn’t. “Or at least I would if you care to explain it.”

“It’s not like it’s a secret. Everybody in the whole county knows what happened.”

Again, she felt a world of pain behind his words. But she said nothing. She had no right.

“I was about to be married.” He spoke softly as if lost in his memories, his attention straight ahead. “Trudy Dingman was her name. I loved her. Thought she loved me.” He paused for a beat of silence. “I was wrong. She only planned to use me.” In short, brisk statements, as if he meant to relay the story in as few words as possible, he told a tale that could be a mirror of Willow’s own. About a young woman pregnant by a man who disappeared. How she turned to Johnny, pretending to love him in order to have a name for her child. Not that Willow had pretended to love Bertie, though she’d done her best to be kind and obedient until Adam was born, and then she was more concerned with protecting him, especially when Bertie’s drinking spells grew worse.

“Her old beau returned and she dumped me to marry the man who had put her in the family way.” Johnny’s tone might be cold and indifferent, but it did not disguise the depth of his pain at being so callously used.

Willow pressed her palm to his forearm. “I’m sorry. No one deserves to be treated like that.”

He glanced at her hand.

Feeling more than a little embarrassed at touching him and offering him comfort, she withdrew and clasped her fingers together in her lap.

He pulled in a long breath, as if he hadn’t filled his lungs during the entire telling of his story. “I learned a valuable lesson. Don’t trust a woman just because she smiles sweetly at you and speaks the right words.” His jaw muscles bunched. “Without truth and trust in a relationship, a person has nothing.” He stared past her. “Nothing but lies, trickery and deceit. I’ll never trust a woman again.”

His words accused her. She had not been entirely truthful with him. Not that he had any right to expect she should be. They were but fellow travelers in search of her sisters.

“At twenty you’re a little young to be making such broad statements,” she told him. “Besides, didn’t you just say to me that, in time, grief loses its grip and it becomes possible to live again? To laugh? To plan? Even to marry again? Or in your case, to love again?”

The words echoed through her. If only time would change things.

But time could not undo the past.

Chapter Five

Johnny kept his attention on the road ahead. What had come over him to tell Willow his tale of woe? Maybe listening to her say she’d never marry again had brought his experience with Trudy back into sharp focus. He would not trust easily again, never sure he was getting the whole truth from any woman. “Time might heal things, but some lessons can’t be unlearned,” he told her. “Nor should they be.”

“I quite agree. Seems we both have reasons to choose to never marry.”

He could think of nothing more to add to the discussion, and silence settled between them. Slowly he brought his thoughts back to more pleasant topics than his past. He glanced down at Adam, asleep on his tummy, his knees bent so his little bottom stuck into the air. How could he sleep like that? It made Johnny’s back hurt just imagining it.

He shifted, resting against the back of the bench, and perched one foot on the front of the wagon, getting comfortable for the long ride.

Willow’s head bumped into his arm.

He looked at her and found that she’d fallen asleep against his shoulder. He eased his body around slightly so she rested more comfortably and, smiling to himself, he put his attention back on the road ahead.

Poor girl had a lot of bad stuff in her past. All those deaths had left her afraid to remarry, no doubt fearing she might again lose the love of her life. The least he could do was see she found her sisters and got settled in their newly rented house. Perhaps he’d go to town occasionally to check on her after that.

She wasn’t a lot different than Thad, and he was beginning to get over his grief. Willow would, too. If Johnny could do anything to help that process, well, he didn’t mind, so long as it didn’t interfere with helping Thad, and didn’t require anything more of him than an occasional visit. That should be safe enough.

They hit a bump and Willow jerked away. She wiped her mouth and scrubbed at her eyes. “I fell asleep.”

“Seems so.”

She looked at his arm. “How long have I been leaning against you?”

“Can’t rightly say. Didn’t mind.”

“There’s a wet spot on your sleeve where I drooled.” She rubbed at it, pink staining her cheeks. “My apologies. You should have wakened me.”

“Nothing wrong with sleeping. I know you didn’t get a lot last night what with little Adam fussing.”

They both looked at the baby. He snuffled and rolled to his side.

Willow brushed her hair back with her hands. “Travel is hard on him. It disrupts his routine. He likes to move about more than he can in the little space he has in the wagon. I feel bad that I have to make him endure this.”

Johnny tried to think what to say to ease her concern about the baby. Before he could find any suitable words, he noticed a tipped wagon by the side of the road ahead. Goods lay scattered about and several people hustled around the outfit. “Someone’s having trouble up there.”

She jolted upright and reached for her valise.

He’d left his rifle on Gray’s saddle and pulled the wagon to a halt to go back and retrieve it. All of which wakened young Adam, who whimpered. Willow scooped him into her lap and soothed him.

When Johnny returned to the bench, Adam reached for him. “Man,” he crowed and gurgled a chuckle.

It pleased Johnny to be greeted so cheerfully, but he’d have preferred to have the baby stay asleep, out of sight and out of harm’s way until he could be certain the group ahead didn’t pose a threat.

Willow must have shared the same thought. “He won’t be happy back in the wagon.”

They didn’t move as Johnny considered what might lie down the road. “It looks like a man and a woman and two children. We’ll see if they need help, but we’ll be cautious.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” The way she clutched the valise said she was ready for anything. She parked Adam on the bench between them and they simultaneously edged closer, crooking their elbows in front of the boy to keep him safely confined.

Adam patted both their arms and grinned at them. “Mama. Man.”

Johnny’s heart swelled inside his chest. This little guy had given him so many enjoyable moments. Just as quickly, his heart shriveled. He’d never have a son of his own, thanks to Trudy’s deceit. Unless he was willing to forget the past. His jaw clenched.

He urged the horse forward at a measured pace, which allowed him lots of time to evaluate the scene, as it did those ahead of them on the road. It might be to the advantage of both, since surprises generally weren’t advisable.

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