High Country Bride. Jillian HartЧитать онлайн книгу.
the children busy, Aiden followed Mrs. Nelson out into the grass. She turned to face him with her arms crossed over her chest and her spine straight. “We had no place to go, Mr. McKaslin.”
“You have family.”
“Family? I have no one and you know it.” She held herself very still. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get my children into the wagon and we’ll be off your property by sundown. That is what you want, isn’t it?”
“You just said you have no place to go.”
“And a man like you cares?” She heard the heartlessness in her own voice and stopped, took a breath and a moment to compose herself. She might be homeless, but she had her dignity. “I cannot reimburse you for our stay on your land. I am sorry for that.”
“Sorry?” A muscle worked in his granite jaw. He repeated the word as if he’d bitten into something sour. “Sorry?”
“There’s no need to be so angry.” She took a step back and drew in a gulp of air. “We hardly did any harm.”
“Any harm?”
“We wore away some of your grass, and the horses grazed on the bunchgrass, but it wasn’t as if you were using—”
“This is unacceptable.” A vein throbbed out at his temple. “You’ve been living here for how long?”
“Since Mr. Wessox found us camped out at the edge of his farm on the other side of the creek.” She curled her hands into fists, keeping her chin set and her tone even. This was not the first irate man she’d ever had to manage.
“How long?” Tendons stood out in his muscled, sun-browned neck.
“We were only there a few weeks.” She felt very small. “We’ve been on your land for a little longer.”
“And you have no family?” A tick started in the corded muscles of his jaw.
“You already know the answer.” She took a few slow steps in retreat. She could not get to her wagon—or her children—without going past Mr. McKaslin. “My half brother has no interest in helping us. There is no one else.”
“What of your husband’s side of the family?”
“As he’s passed away, and his family did not approve of me, they want nothing to do with us. Not even for the children’s sake.” She didn’t know how it could possibly be, but her words seemed to make the man towering over her even angrier. He appeared to be restraining his fury, but it was a terrible sight. He was more than twice her size and strength, and as he began to breathe heavily with his anger, he seemed invincible.
A thin thread of fear shivered through her, but she firmly clutched her skirts, lifting them so she would not trip. Her first wobbly step took her closer to him. Closer to his rage. “Excuse me.”
To her surprise, he let her walk by. She did her best to ignore the stone pillar he seemed as she hurried past him, adrenaline kicking up with every step she took. Her children were waiting, sweet and good, with their faces and hands washed. They were carefully wiping up their water splashes. Her heart warmed toward them as it always did, and she hoped she could keep them safe.
“Ma?” James leaned close, all brightness gone from his face. “That man’s gonna make us leave again, ain’t he?”
Before she could answer, Daisy fisted her little hands in the folds of Joanna’s skirts and looked up with frightened eyes. “I don’t wanna go.”
“Why ever not?” She did her best to put a smile on her face and soothing love in her voice. She knelt down so they could look into her eyes and clearly see they should not be worried. “We always knew this was just a stopping off place. Why, we’re ready to go and start our next adventure. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
“No.” James would not be fooled, her poor little boy. “Do we gotta go now? Before supper?”
Aware of Daisy’s lower lip trembling and how intently the little girl watched her, Joanna tried to weigh her next words carefully. She did not want to make promises she could not keep. But neither did she want to be so truthful it shattered her children. She was out of options, and her prayers had simply gone unanswered for so long, they might never be again.
All she could do was the best she knew how. “All right, you two, start rounding up your toys. Be sure to get them all. We don’t want to leave any behind.”
“Okay, Ma.” James sighed with sadness, his shoulders weighed down as he went to bring in his wooden horses.
“Yes, Ma.” Daisy sniffed, her head down, and trudged away.
The wild grasses crunched beneath Mr. McKaslin’s boots. She dreaded facing him again. He strode toward her through the waving stalks, his work clothes rippling slightly in the strong westerly breeze and hinting at his steely strength. Vulnerable, she braced herself for whatever wrath he’d come to inflict on her.
He had some right, she admitted, for they were squatters. They were illegally using the land he worked hard to pay for and to maintain. She was, essentially, stealing from him. That shamed her.
Silence stretched between them, and she felt the rake of his gaze, taking her in from the top of her windblown hair, where escaped tendrils snapped in the wind, to the toes of her scuffed, patched shoes. She watched him fist his big, work-roughened hands, and expected the worst.
“You never told me, Mrs. Nelson. Where are you going to go?” His tone was flat, his jaw tensed, as if he was still fighting his temper. His blue eyes glanced past her to where the children were going about their chore.
“I don’t know.” Her throat went dry. Her tongue felt thick as she answered. “When I find employment, I could wire a payment to you. Rent. Y-you aren’t thinking of—of bringing the sheriff in?”
“You think I want payment?” Aiden’s voice boomed like winter thunder. “You think I want rent money?”
“Frankly, I don’t know what you want.”
“I’ll tell you what I don’t want. I don’t want…” His words echoed like cannon fire as he paused, and a passing pair of geese overhead honked in flat-noted tones. He grimaced, and it was impossible to guess what he would say or do.
She trembled not from fear of him—she truly didn’t believe he would strike her—but from the unknown. Of being forced to take the frightening step off the only safe spot she’d found since she’d lost Pa’s house.
When you were homeless, everything seemed so fragile, so easily off balance. It was a big, unkind world for a woman alone with her children. She had no one to protect her. No one to care. The truth was, Joanna had never had those things in her husband. How could she expect them from any stranger? Especially this man she hardly knew, who seemed harsh, cold and hard-hearted?
And, worse, what if he brought in the law?
“You can’t keep living out of a wagon,” he said, still angry, the cords straining in his neck. “Animals have enough sense to keep their young cared for and safe.”
Yes, it was as she’d thought. He intended to be as cruel as he could be. She spun on her heels, pulling up all her defenses, determined to let his hurtful words roll off her. She grabbed the towel the children had neatly folded and tossed it into the laundry box in the back of the wagon.
“Mrs. Nelson. I’m talking to you.”
“Yes, I know. If you expect me to stand there while you tongue-lash me, you’re mistaken. I have packing to get to.” Her fingers were clumsy as she hefted the bucket of water she’d brought for washing—she wouldn’t need that now—and heaved.
His hand clasped the handle beside hers, and she could feel the life and power of him vibrate along the thin metal. “Give it to me.”
Her fingers let go. She felt stunned as he walked away, easily carrying the bucket,