" 'Tweren't no trouble a-tall." Jones winked at Ashleen, a conspiratorial light in his dark eyes. "Met up with this squaw named Sweetest One. Prettiest damn woman ye ever did see. An' she was... well, after a time, she was all a-flutter to please a fine figure of a man like me."
Logan guffawed, and even Ash couldn't stifle her laughter. She knew she should be shocked—Sister Agatha would have been in apoplexies over Kennisaw Jones's raw humor—and yet there was something delightful in the wicked amusement in the big man's smile. Something that warmed her. Calmed her. Made her believe in herself again. It was ridiculous. Absurd. But she thanked God for it.
"Now, Mrs.—" He arched a brow in question.
"Miss," Ashleen said. "Miss O'Shea." At the odd expression on the wheelwright's face Ash hurried to explain. "I'm a—was a novice at St. Michael of the Angels before—"
"Before you became a mother o' four? They're lucky ye scooped 'em up, Miss O'Shea. Now, if you'll permit me, I'll go take a look at that rattletrap wagon of yours an' see if Logan here's just bein' an old woman about it." Kennisaw offered her his arm in such a courtly manner that Ash curtsied, fluttering her lashes with mocking coquettishness. Jones's chest rumbled with laughter.
"Did ye learn that in the convent, girlie?"
"No. I learned it because it made Sister Bridget look like she'd swallowed a bug."
Kennisaw flung back his head and roared. Ash felt as if a huge stone had been rolled off her chest, and she let him lead her out into the street, aware of the wheelwright tsking quietly to himself behind them.
They had scarcely stepped into the street when she was deluged by a melee of racketing children, Renny firing questions, Liam regaling her with tales of strange sights, Shevonne tattling on everyone from Meggie to the barkeep across the way.
Ash answered Renny, chided Shevonne, and rumpled Liam's curls almost at the same time, while Kennisaw Jones beamed at her in approval.
"You found the bear man," Liam enthused, arching his head back to gaze up at Kennisaw's face. "He's wondrous nice, Sister Ash. And he knows 'bout wagons and such. He's even blood brother to a 'nindian chief."
"Named Sweetest One?" Ash couldn't resist teasing.
"Ugh! That's an awful name for an Indian!" Renny made a face. "Takes A Hundred Scalps, or Tomahawk Thrower, now those are names."
"My blood brother's name is Sneaks Up On Red-Haired Boys And Carries 'Em Off In Their Sleep," Kennisaw said in a spooky voice. Ash heard Shevonne give a little gasp, saw Liam's eyes widen. Even Renny's expression showed the tiniest hint of nervousness. Ash could see the makings of a nightmare already wending through their minds.
"I don't believe you," Renny said, thrusting out his chest. Kennisaw leveled a look on the boy that would have made most men blanch, but Renny met it with a resolved belligerence that made Ash want to laugh.
After a moment Jones reached out to chuck the boy under the chin. "Ye're a smart lad not to believe an old coot like me. Make a fine man one day."
But Renny hated being made to look foolish, even in the spirit of fun, and he glared at Kennisaw Jones as if the man sported horns and a tail.
Ash intervened hoping to cool Renny's temper, but she felt like she was dancing a jig on spring ice.
"Mr. Jones here has kindly offered to check out our wagon. Since one wheel’s spoke already split, I thought it might be best if—"
"The rest of the wheels are fine." Renny's face reddened, eyes glittering. "I looked them over real good this morning."
"And I'm grateful for it, moppet. But Mr. Jones here is worlds more experienced in all this than any of us is, and—"
"How do you know that, Sister Ash? He already told a lie."
"Renny!" Ashleen exclaimed, startled.
"Well, he did! About that Indian stuff! Even a baby like Liam wouldn't believe him."
"Mr. Jones was just teasing, and you know it. Now you'd best ask his pardon for being so rude."
"Don't fret, ma'am." There was a gentle tone to Jones's voice, a wistfulness that hinted at secret pain. "My own boy, he was full of the devil, just like this one of yours. Always flyin' in the face of anyone who dared tweak his pride. Turned out to be a fine man, my Garret did. Seen a whole raidin' party o' Sioux turn tail and run just at the sight o' him." Kennisaw pierced Renny with a keen glare. "And that ain't no bedtime story, boy."
Renny snorted in disbelief, then stalked off to nurse his injured feelings amongst the horses tied to the hitching post nearby.
Kennisaw Jones began moving about the wagon, running his hands over wood, tugging on harness and canvas to the accompaniment of Liam's nonstop chatter. But Ash scarcely heard them as she watched Renny disappear among glossy flanks and withers.
She had handled the boy badly. Ash berated herself inwardly. He had taken such pride in being the man of their little family—doing a man's chores, seeing to the other children with a budding responsibility that had delighted Ashleen when it wasn't wrenching at her heart. She'd been wrong to undermine that, however unintentionally.
She'd talk to him later, Ash vowed, after they both had a chance for tempers to cool. After Renny had had some time in the company of the animals he was devoted to.
