Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

J onah wiped the sweat from his brow as he lugged an armload of kindling toward the makeshift campsite. The day had been a scorcher, not fun considering they'd sat in the wagon since the sun had still been a hope on the eastern horizon. Now, a few faint shades of pink and purple painted the western sky as night prepared to take over.

Hopefully, tomorrow would be easier. Not just the heat, but Anna's attitude. The girl had been sullen and whiny all day. She was hurting something fierce, which tore at his heart. Mostly. But it irked him the way she took her anger out on her aunt. Patsy was doing the very best she could, doing what she considered right. He couldn't imagine what he'd do in her position. Could he stand to let his brother's kids live with strangers simply because they felt comfortable there? Could he live with himself if he didn't even try to make a home for them?

No. No he couldn't.

Didn't Anna see how hard this was on her aunt? Patsy had started the journey trying to talk about the future with her niece. She'd been all smiles and joy, speaking with optimism he figured Anna had seen right through. Patsy'd kept that smile for hours, despite her niece's rudeness. But eventually, she'd given up.

Jonah was doing everything to lighten Patsy's burden, but maybe he could talk to Anna after dinner, try to ease some of her pain or at least get her to give her aunt a break.

He dumped his load beside the low flames of the campfire, then dropped to his haunches to add some of the dryer wood he'd found.

Patsy was rummaging through the supplies, laying out provisions for their evening meal.

He scanned the area. "Where's Anna?" She'd been sulking in the wagon when he left for the firewood, but the rig was empty now.

Patsy straightened and turned toward the wagon, her brow furrowed. "Is she lying down in there?"

He'd peeked inside when he'd walked by it a moment before. A knot twisted in his gut. "Anna?" He scanned the trees around, straining for any hint of motion. A few branches swayed and a bird flitted from one tree to another.

"Anna? Where are you?" Patsy strode to the wagon, her voice thick with worry.

It took her only a second to see what he'd already known—that the bed was empty save the two crates of food they'd brought for the journey.

Patsy spun back to him. "Did she go to the creek?"

He started that way, breaking into a jog as he searched his surroundings. There was no sign of the girl at the water. The only footprints in the wet sand of the bank had been made by his own boots when he'd come to get a bucket full earlier.

Patsy ran up and halted beside him, her breath heaving. Her face was ashen, her eyes panicked when they met his. "Where could she be?'

He wanted to reach out and pull Patsy close, to ease her fears. But they had to find Anna, now. They didn't have much time before darkness would fall, making the search so much harder.

He looked back through the woods toward where they'd left the wagon, forcing his mind to work through the possibilities. She'd been sitting there when he went to search for wood, her arms crossed and her lower lip puffed out.

Angry because she'd wanted to stay at the ranch.

Would she have tried to go back? A girl as young as Anna should be afraid of a journey like that—a full day's ride up and down mountain slopes. Especially after what'd happened to her grandmother.

On the other hand, Anna had survived countless days and nights in the midst of a mountain snowstorm with no shelter. Walking along a clear-cut road must seem easy compared to that other time.

He glanced toward where he'd tied the horses to graze. Would she have tried to…?

Only one bay back showed through the trees. He started toward the animal. Anna was a smart youngster to have taken a horse instead of trying to walk all the way back. Neither of the wagon horses would hurt her intentionally, but they were so big, and little Anna was so small for her age.

Jonah raced toward the remaining horse. Patsy's skirts rustled as she ran behind him.

When they drew near the mare that was still tied, a flash of movement showed in a clearing beyond the trees. His heart seized, and he strained to see in the dusky light.

There was Anna, standing on a fallen log, trying to scramble onto the patient bay's back. Her small hands gripped the horse's mane as she worked to swing her leg over. The calico bag Naomi had sent with her hung from her shoulder.

"Anna!" Patsy half-whispered the anguished cry as she started forward.

Jonah caught her arm. "Let me." Anna was proving desperate, and she might not open up to her aunt as well as she would to him.

At Patsy's stricken look, he softened his tone. "Please. I think I can reach her." He rubbed his thumb over her arm and did his best to show her with his eyes she could trust him. "If I'm not getting through to her, I'll wave for you to come try."

Patsy hesitated only a moment before nodding.

Jonah approached slowly, not wanting to startle the horse or the child. Anna was so intent on her task, she didn't hear him until he reached the gelding's head. Ol' Jasper stood quietly, weary from the long day on the trail.

Anna's jaw dropped when she saw him. He'd expected her to look guilty, but she clutched the horse's coarse mane, her eyes defiant, clear even through the watery layer of unshed tears. "I'm going home." She lifted her chin. "You can't stop me."

Home .

His heart clenched. Was it the Coulter ranch in general she considered home? Or Eric and Naomi's new cabin specifically?

He took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "I know you're hurting, Anna. Believe me, I understand wanting to go back to what's familiar. When you have people who love you, that's not something you take lightly. And not something you want to leave."

If anything, Anna's little hands gripped Jasper's mane even tighter, her lips pressing together.

He ducked to meet her gaze a little better. "You know, your Aunt Patsy loves you a whole lot too. It might not feel like it right now, but she wants what's best for you."

Anna's lower lip trembled. "But…I want to go home. I miss Aunt Naomi and Uncle Eric and Mary Ellen."

"I know you do, sweetheart. And it's all right to miss them. But maybe…maybe it would be okay to give your Aunt Patsy a chance. To let her show you how much she loves you." A new idea slipped in. "Does she remind you of your mama at all? Since they were sisters?"

Anna blinked, one shoulder lifting and falling. "Sometimes. When she talks. Her voice is like Mama's."

"That must be real nice, to hear your mama again."

A single tear slipped down Anna's cheek. "I guess so."

Jonah brushed the tear away with his thumb. "What do you say we head on back to camp? It's getting dark and I'll bet you're as hungry as I am. I think your Aunt Patsy packed some of that strawberry jam you like so much. We can spread it on the fresh bread she and Lillian baked yesterday."

For a long moment, Anna didn't move. Then, slowly, she released Jasper's mane and allowed Jonah to lift her down from the log. She leaned into him, her small arms coming around his waist in a fierce hug.

He held her close, a weight pressing in his chest. This child had endured so much in her short life. Losing her parents, then her grandmother, and now being taken away from the home and people she'd come to love.

He would do everything in his power to make this journey easier for her. For Patsy too. No matter how much he hated to lose them both.

L ater that night, Patience gazed into the dancing flames of the campfire, the warmth doing little to chase away the chill that had settled deep in her bones. Anna had finally fallen asleep, and Patience needed a few minutes to sort through her emotions.

The night was quiet, broken only by the occasional pop of the burning logs and the distant trickle of the creek where Jonah had led the horses to drink.

She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, her fingers twisting the fringe as her mind churned with doubts and uncertainties. The weight of responsibility pressed down on her, as heavy as the darkness that blanketed the camp. Was she doing the right thing, taking Anna away from this new family and home she'd come to love?

The crunch of boots on dry leaves pulled her from her reverie, and she glanced up to see Jonah emerging from the shadows. He settled himself beside her, his solid presence easing a bit of the tension in her body.

For a long moment, he didn't speak, just let her soak in his nearness. This churning inside her needed space to sort itself out. Did she dare share her worries with Jonah? He'd made it clear he wanted her to stay. But he'd not pushed the idea since he agreed to escort her and Anna to Fort Benton. He'd been a help every step of the journey.

He'd been a friend. And that was what she needed most right now.

His voice broke the quiet, its vibrato low and quiet. "Your thoughts are probably burning more fuel than this fire."

A smile slipped out before she could stop it. That image felt right. Her head was clogged with so much steam that she had to release it or else the kettle would squeal.

She let out a sigh. "I'm just…worried I'm making a mistake. Taking Anna away from your family." She swallowed hard, hoping to stop her voice's trembling. "They've been good to her, and she loves them so. What if… What if I'm doing more harm than good?"

"You're doing what you think is best, and that's your job as her aunt. What else can you do?"

A surge of anger flared in her chest. She tossed a dry twig into the flickering flames. "But also…" Should she admit this? Did it make her small? Petty?

Probably.

But she needed to say it anyway .

"Part of me is angry at Anna." Even as the words came out, she wanted to snap them back. But the relief of them finally not clogging her throat made her keep going. "I gave up everything for her, so we can be together. Can't she at least go into it with an open mind?"

Shame rolled over her, thick and hot. What was she saying? That her poor seven-year-old niece, who'd endured enough trauma to leave some adults sniveling in bed, should be more grateful? "I'm a horrible person. So selfish. She deserves so much better than I can ever give her." She covered her face with her hands. What must Jonah think of her?

He shifted beside her. "You're not a horrible person, Patsy." His voice was gentle. "And you're certainly not selfish." A long moment passed, but she didn't have the courage to look up before he spoke again. "This whole situation is hard—for her, but for you, too. You lost your whole family, all but Anna. You're doing everything you can for your niece, and that's all anyone can ask."

She glanced at him, his profile illuminated by the flickering firelight as he stared into the flames.

"I think it's pretty normal to be angry when things don't go the way you planned. I was mad at God after all that happened with Naomi last year." He grimaced. "Maybe even before that. Maybe I've been mad at him since Lucy left. Back then, I remember asking Him why. Why He let her go. It never felt like I got an answer. And things just got worse for her. That skunk of a man she married gambled and drank away every penny, so she barely had enough food for her and the kids. Then he got sick and died."

Jonah paused for a breath, then pushed on. "I hoped she'd come home then. I even prayed she'd come home." His voice graveled. "But she didn't. Stubborn woman. She stayed right where she was, determined to make it on her own. As if she ever had a chance." He shook his head, his voice taking on a bitter tang. "Instead, Jericho went to check on her and arrived just before she died."

She couldn't blame him for bitterness. Why had God let that happen to such a good family? Was Lucy punished because she'd run off in the first place, against her family's wishes? If that was the reason, Patience had no hope of ever seeing God's good graces. She'd married Michael against her parent's wishes, leaving with him for parts unknown. And surely a gambler was worse than a miner, even a miner who lost all his money gambling.

Silence hung between Jonah and herself, thick enough to clog her throat. She didn't want Jonah to know her own sins, not when he was still dealing with his sister's. She'd rather change the subject. Speak of something lighter. Something more pleasant than the condemnation of a wrathful God.

But before she could find a topic, Jonah blew out a breath.

"There's something else, though. Something I've been hearing about all my life. God's been reminding me of it lately." He sent her a rueful look. "God does love us. He created us, and He knew from the very beginning what would happen in our lives. What choices we would make, what hardships would come our way.

His brow creased, and his words came slowly, as if each one were a precious gem, and he was low on cash. "God wants more than anything for us to turn to Him when trials come. He wants us to hide in His protection when it seems nothing can go right. To let Him show us just how much He loves us. He does hate sin, but He's not a God of punishment. He's made a way for us to be free, so that when we come to Him and ask His forgiveness, our sin disappears. Then He wraps us in His arms…and loves us." Jonah's shoulders relaxed with those last words. Maybe the thought of God's love took away the weight he'd carried.

But could it be true? Could there be a way for Patience to be free of all her mistakes ?

He turned to face her. "I let my anger at God steal away the peace in being His child and the love He's trying to show me." His Adam's apple bobbed. "He has that same love for you. All you have to do is turn to Him. Ask for His forgiveness. Ask to be His daughter so you don't have to fight through life on your own."

Jonah sounded almost like the corner preacher who'd come through Missoula once. He'd talked about God's love and forgiveness. Nice ideas, but if God took a look at the list of things Patience needed forgiveness for, He'd send her off with a Sorry, ma'am —if she was lucky.

She summoned a smile. "I'll keep that in mind. Just now, I have my hands full with Anna. I just need to get us to Fort Benton so I can contact my mother's solicitor. He'll tell me the next steps for us." She eased out a long breath. "One day at a time. I've barely been an aunt for most of her life. It's going to take work to learn how to be a decent mother."

His easy smile showed she'd not offended him. "I remember when Lillian and Sean first came to live with us after Lucy died. I didn't know how to handle kids, especially a pair grieving like that. I wasn't a great uncle. Especially not at first." He chuckled. "I'd only had little brothers growing up, and you could just knock them in line when they needed it. Can't do that with a girl."

The thought forced out a short, mirthless laugh. Knocking her in line was one thing her own father hadn't tried. His other methods had worked well enough. "My father found ways to tame my sister and me." Ways she wouldn't be using with Anna.

The weight of Jonah's gaze landed on her, but she kept her focus on the fire. She shouldn't have said that about her father, but something about Jonah made her want to let out the pain.

"Like what ways?" Jonah's voice held that gentle tone again, though steel ran through the core.

Her eyes burned as the memories rose unbidden, the old hurt as sharp as ever. "I don't know. When I wasn't good enough, he just…put me away. Like I didn't matter." That didn't sound so painful. It didn't capture the way things had truly been.

She pulled up one of the memories. "When I was about five, my mother's cousin and his family came to celebrate Christmas with us. We'd all been looking forward to it for weeks, and I'd been especially excited because they had a daughter my age and I so wanted a special friend.

"Mama had planned a special party for Christmas Eve, and invited several other families. Before the evening began, Father and Mama's cousin were sitting in his office, smoking and talking. I had found an injured cat outside and brought it in. It was struggling to breathe and bleeding everywhere. I knew she needed help, and when I spotted my father, I thought… I carried the cat into his office and set her down on his desk. Blood got on several of his business papers." She had to swallow the knot that clogged her throat as the memory of Papa's face rose in her mind.

"He was so angry. I thought he would hit me. And if he did strike, I just knew he would kill me, right there." Patience's pulse raced, but she worked to slow her breathing. She was grown now. Far away from him. She was safe.

A warm arm wrapped around her, its strength pulling her in, protecting her. How did Jonah know what she needed every time? She let herself lean against him, even let her head rest on his shoulder. It was so strong, so solid beneath her temple. She eased out another breath, sinking into this safety.

He didn't push for the rest of the story, but she needed to finish. She couldn't leave Jonah wondering what had happened that day. "Anyway, my father didn't hurt me. He called the maid to take the cat and had our housekeeper march me straight to my room. They left me there all evening. I could hear the party going on downstairs, the laughing and playing and… And nobody missed me. It was as if I didn't matter at all."

She cleared her throat. "That was just one time, but he always made it clear I wasn't acceptable. I tried but…I was never good enough. Not like Hannah, my sister. She was so good, my parents always loved her."

Jonah's arm tightened. "You were a child, Patsy. A remarkable girl, I'm certain. I'm sorry he couldn't see that. You didn't deserve to be treated that way, no matter how different you were from your sister."

She blinked back the tears that threatened. "I see now that it's not always easy to know the right thing with children. I'm trying so hard to do right by Anna, but I'm scared I'll fail her. I can't be like my father."

Jonah's free hand came up to stroke the hair from her cheek, his thumb brushing away the lone tear that had escaped. "I have faith that you won't fail her, Patsy. You love her too much for that." He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice came a little rougher. "She may not realize it now, but she's incredibly lucky to have you. You're going to be a remarkable mother."

His words wrapped around Patience's heart like a warm embrace, easing some of the doubt and fear. This must be hard for him, though, encouraging her to leave, lending his strength so she'd be able to do what he'd asked her not to. Yet he didn't hesitate, just set aside his own feelings and desires for her sake. For Anna's sake.

He truly was a good man. The best she'd ever known.

She should ask him to come with them. Surely there was room in her dream for a man as good and noble as Jonah. The man who'd already taken her heart and seemed to be offering his in return.

But she couldn't do that to him. It wouldn't be fair to tear him away from his family, the ranch, and his new cabin. His roots ran so deep there. She couldn't be that selfish.

So instead, she simply leaned into him, letting his strength and warmth seep into her bones. "Thank you, Jonah." I don't know what I'll do without you. She didn't speak aloud the second part, though it pressed deep inside her.

He brushed a gentle kiss on her forehead, the gesture so tender it made her ache. She would have to leave him soon, but for tonight, she could simply treasure his nearness.