Chapter 20

Chapter 20

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" Tara asked, as she put on her shawl and bonnet.

John nodded. He was sitting by the stove with Maisy on his lap, with his crutches in reaching distance. They had eaten breakfast together and fed the animals, and it was now time for Tara to go to work at the clinic.

"I'll be fine. Really, I promise. I've got everything I need. And I'm sure Maisy can look after me for a few hours," he said, smiling at Tara, who laughed.

"I remember when my father was ill, she'd sit by his bed from morning to night. He used to call her his second nurse. All right, well, I won't be late. It's a short shift today. I'll see you later," she said and, taking her leave, John was left alone.

He smiled to himself, thinking of the simple pleasure of their spending time together. The past few days had been a delight—looking after the animals, sharing meals together, sitting up long into the night as Tara told stories of her childhood and days gone by in Freemont. But John knew it was only a dream, and that on Kyle's return, it would all come to an end.

But I can enjoy it while it lasts, can't I? John thought, looking around him at the well-appointed parlor, with its comfortable furnishings and brightly burning stove.

Tara's house had a homely, welcoming feel to it—the sort of place John would gladly have called his own. He wondered what his own home had been like, but the more time he spent on the homestead, taking care of the animals with Tara, the more convinced he was his life lay on the trail.

He had a natural affinity to the animals—to Stanley the horse in particular—and though he could not remember specific events, there were things he knew intuitively, things he could not otherwise have known about the work of a cowboy and all it entailed.

But I won't be riding any horses for a while, he thought as he reached for his crutches, intending to make himself useful around the house.

Tara would not be back until later, and that would give John plenty of time to clean the parlor and make them something to eat. He wanted to repay her for his kindness to him, and now—as best he could—he set about the housework, hobbling around on his crutches.

Occasionally, he lost his balance, catching himself before he fell or dropping down into one of the chairs and cursing himself for his inadequacies. If he had once been a cowboy, he now felt a sorry excuse for one.

I can't ride, I can't walk without crutches, I can't do anything, he berated himself as again he struggled out of one of the chairs he had just fallen into.

At that moment, he heard the sound of the gate being opened into the yard, and his heart skipped a beat, fearing this was the return of Kyle. What would Tara's mail-order groom have to say if he discovered another man in the house?

John began rapidly thinking of excuses, fearing Kyle might even turn violent if he thought himself usurped. Footsteps sounded on the porch, and, standing in the middle of the parlor, supporting himself on his crutches, John waited for the door to open. But instead, there came a knock and the sound of a woman's voice from outside.

"Tara? It's Gina. Are you home? We need to talk," the woman called out, and John breathed a sigh of relief.

Hobbling across to the door, he opened it, and Gina looked at him in surprise, evidently not expecting him to be the one to answer.

"Oh… it's you. How nice to see you! Tiffany told me she met the two of you out the other day. I came over to see Tara. Did she tell you we had an argument?" Gina said.

She looked apologetic, and it seemed her visit was the extension of an olive branch. John stepped aside, inviting her in from the cold.

"She told me, yes. I'm sure the two of you can work it out. I'm certain she wants to," John said.

He did not want to speak for Tara, but her affection for Gina was obvious. She spoke of her as her best friend, and in describing the argument they had had, there had been an obvious sense of remorse.

"It was silly. I shouldn't have said the things I did. It's her choice what she does, and if she wants to write to a man in Chicago and invite him here, what business is it of mine?" she said.

John nodded. He didn't know Gina well enough to give his own opinion on the matter, and yet he was in full agreement with her as to the caution Tara should have exercised in inviting a man she knew nothing of to come and share her life. It was an act fraught with risks—with danger, even. What did she know about Kyle? And where was he now?

"You were just being a good friend to her," John replied, and Gina smiled.

"I try to be. And it seems she's got a friend in you, too," she said.

John blushed. He didn't want Gina to think he was acting in any other way than honorably. He had no intention of trying to split Tara and Kyle. If she wanted to marry her mail-order groom, so be it—as much as John wished these happy days could continue.

"Well, she's been my savior. I wouldn't be here without her. She's done so much for me. And not just rescuing me that day—everything else, too," he said.

He would be forever grateful to Tara, and the fact she was still helping him, even now, proved the kind of person she was. There had been no compulsion on her part to invite him to stay or to offer him a job. She had done those things out of the goodness of her heart, and for that, John would never forget her.

"She's got a heart of gold. And I know she thinks a lot of you," Gina replied.

John blushed. "I think a lot of her, too."

"Well… will you tell her I called? If I don't see her beforehand, I'll probably see her at the barn dance at Fenton Ranch—that's our family's place. Are you coming, too?" Gina asked.

John had heard nothing about a barn dance, and in his current state, he didn't think he would be doing any dancing for a long time.

"I'm not sure," he said. "Tara hasn't mentioned anything about a barn dance."

"Oh, it's great fun. It happens every year. It's the start of Christmas for us here in Freemont. I really hope you'll come. Tara will, so I'm sure she'll bring you," Gina replied.

After she had left, John wondered if he had overstepped the mark. It should be Kyle who was sharing Tara's life—eating meals together, walks in the snow, a barn dance…

What's he going to say when he gets back? John wondered.

But his fears were overshadowed by the fact he was enjoying what he was sharing with Tara. John knew nothing of his own family, and even if he were to remember, it felt as though he had already begun to move on. These feelings were real, and the longer he lived with them, the more certain they were becoming.

I can't help falling in love with her, he admitted to himself as he carried on tidying the parlor and preparing dinner—and with that thought in mind, he decided to enjoy it while it lasted.

***

Tara yawned. It had felt like a long day at the clinic, though she had only worked for eight hours instead of her usual twelve. There had been new patients to see, and a man whose leg unfortunately had to be amputated. Tara had held his hand as the assistant surgeon, Joseph Hemingway, had performed the procedure.

"Bite down on that piece of wood right now," he had said, and Tara's hand had almost been crushed by the man squeezing it as the surgeon had severed the limb.

The patient was now recovering, but that recovery would be a long one, and Tara had promised to do all she could to help him—just as she did for all her patients. Now, as she trudged wearily home through the snow, she was looking forward to settling down by the stove to rest and wondering what John had been doing at home by himself during the day.

I hope he's not tired himself out. Or fallen…

As she approached the house, she saw a lamp burning in the window, and Maisy sitting on the sill behind the glass. She was waiting for her, and Tara smiled, hurrying through the gate and onto the porch. As she was pulling off her boots, the door opened and John appeared, smiling at her as a delicious aroma wafted out to greet her.

"I was just beginning to wonder where you were. Was it a long day?" he asked.

Tara smiled back at him. She had been thinking about this moment all day—returning home to him, finding the house clean and dinner prepared.

"It felt like it. But look at this? You've done everything," she exclaimed, as Maisy came to greet her.

It was just as it had been on that first day of Kyle's arrival, when he, too, had cleaned the house and prepared a meal. Now, John ushered her to sit down at the table before placing a bowl of steaming soup in front of her.

"I know I can't do much, but I could do this," he said, sitting down opposite her.

"But this is so kind of you. I didn't expect… well, thank you," Tara said, and John smiled.

"I wanted to help. I hope I haven't… overstepped the mark," he said, but Tara shook her head.

"Don't be silly. It's wonderful. And this soup is delicious," she said.

To come home to a warm house and a welcome such as this was what Tara had thought life with Kyle would have been like. Indeed, it had been for those first few days, and yet soon the cracks had started to appear.

Tara knew she had to be cautious, and that her growing feelings for John would mean a confrontation with Kyle—if he ever returned. It was all very confusing, and the more she thought about it, the more Tara wondered if she wasn't merely making life far harder for herself than it needed to be.

But time and again, John had proved a steady, reliable friend. He was as he appeared to be, and there was no question of his being anything else than sincere. Tara had no doubts about him as she did about Kyle, and the more time they spent together, the more she realized he was the one she was falling in love with.

"Gina came to see you today," John said as he cleared the empty soup bowls away.

"Did she?" Tara said, feeling a sudden jolt of guilt at allowing her falling-out with Gina to go unresolved.

"I think she wanted to make up with you," John replied.

Tara sighed. She had been meaning to do the same, and she didn't want her argument with Gina to go on over Christmas. There was the question of where she and John would eat Christmas dinner, for Tara always shared the festivities with the Fentons, and if she and Gina were still at odds, it would make for a very awkward day.

"And she's right to want to. I should do the same," Tara said, for she knew she was the one in the wrong.

Gina had only been trying to help her, yet Tara had stubbornly refused to listen to reason. She had been embarrassed to admit Kyle wasn't the man she had thought him to be, and that inviting him from Chicago had been the hasty and desperate ploy of a woman who didn't know what she really wanted from romance.

"She said something about a barn dance—that she'd see you there," John said.

Tara had all but forgotten about the Fenton Ranch barn dance. It took place every year, and she and Gina always went together. Fenton Ranch belonged to a cousin of Gina's, the Fentons being among the first settlers in Freemont when it was first established as a frontier town all those years ago.

"Oh, yes, the dance. I'd forgotten about that. We always go together. All the Fentons. The whole town, actually. You'll enjoy it," Tara said.

John looked embarrassed. "Won't you be going with Kyle?"

Tara blushed. She hadn't thought about Kyle, or rather she was trying not to think about Kyle. He had been gone for four days now, and without any word of explanation as to when he would return, it felt to Tara as though there was a distance between them, and not just geography. Their letters had given risen to an intensity of feeling, but infatuation was not sustaining. While Tara had been caught up in the romance of it all, the reality had hardly lived up to expectations.

"Well… he's not here, is he? Besides, it'll do you good to meet people. It might help you to remember something more. Who knows, you might even recognize someone there," Tara said.

She didn't want to admit she wanted him there, the strength of her feelings for him growing with every passing moment. It wasn't Kyle Tara wanted on her arm at the dance, but John, even as she wasn't quite ready to admit as much to him or anyone else.

"Well… I'll happily come with you. If you don't mind. But I don't think I'll be doing much dancing," John said, glancing down at his leg.

Tara smiled. "I wouldn't worry about it too much. Dancing's a rather loose term for what happens. But you'll enjoy the music, and there's always plenty to eat, too. It'll be fun," she said, and John nodded.

"Then I'll look forward to it. As long as Kyle won't mind," he said.

Tara didn't care if Kyle minded or not. He was gone, and even if he did come back, her feelings for him had changed. He wasn't the man she had expected, the man she had come to know through the letters—and in John, she had discovered the unexpected feelings Gina had so often promised her.

"Love comes when you least expect it. You can't force it," her friend had once said, and Tara was beginning to realize this was true.