“Guess we’ll figure out what to do as we go along.” Jace’s words offered little reassurance to anyone, including himself.
The meal ended. Dawn waved away Dianne’s offer to help with dishes. “You have miles to travel.”
“So do you.”
“But I travel with Bart. Travel is part of my enjoyment.”
Dianne’s chuckle suggested she understood. “I remember those days.”
The women shared a look carrying more meaning than any words they spoke.
Only because Jace watched Dianne did he catch the flicker of pain cross her face. She was hurting. Well, of course, she was. Losing her father and husband. She hadn’t said what happened to her mother—and then being disappointed by the changed circumstances of her hope for a home in the West. Not that it was his fault. At least not everything. Besides, the home was still there.
All he had to do was get her there—or at least to the next way station—then it would be out of his hands.
“We shall be on our way.” His announcement perhaps sounded more abrupt than he meant. But if he wanted to return the wagon, hunt some meat for supper, and enjoy his solitude in the cabin, he needed to hurry.
She thanked Dawn and Bart for the meal and instructed Eddie to do so as well. The boy murmured the words, barely lifting his chin. Strange. He hadn’t been the least bit shy around Jace, which somehow made Jace stand a few inches taller. No doubt, the boy recognized that Jace was good. He shrank back to his original height as he admitted he wasn’t always such, and he currently lived that knowledge.
He added his thanks and shepherded the two outside, loaded them into the wagon, tied Sam up again, and headed down the trail.
Dianne seemed disinclined to talk, and Jace couldn’t think of anything to say. Telling her she’d be fine at the next way stationwas premature. Telling her everything would work out was difficult to be certain of. Except?—
“I remember something Chet said shortly after he took me home.” Home? Hadn’t he decided against that? If she noticed the slip, she didn’t mention it. “I was perhaps a bit difficult.”
She might have snorted, but he let it go.
“You gotta remember, I’d lost my entire family. It was hard.”
Her warm hand rested momentarily on his. “I’m sure it was.”
“I might have been a tiny bit uncooperative.” He drawled out the word though, in truth, he’d been defiant. “When Chet asked me to do something, I sometimes refused to do as he said.”
“Really? I would have never guessed.”
No need to acknowledge her sarcasm.
“He didn’t get angry. He simply shook his head. ‘Boy, a chip on your shoulder becomes a heavy load.’ To which I’d grunt.” His smile in her direction was self-mocking. “But the thing that stayed with me and persuaded me to change my attitude was when he found a lost kitten. That thing was so wild. I figured we might as well let it go fend for itself. But Chet didn’t give up until it became a real pet. The only thing he ever said about it was, ‘The little critter recognized it could fight forever and always be unhappy, or it could accept the offer of more.’ I guess it was another way of saying ‘Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.’”
Her look was steady and challenging.
He couldn’t turn away.
She nodded. “And here you are doing the same thing. Refusing his help, his gift.”
No need to ask what she meant. But she didn’t understand why he must leave the ranch. Besides— “The ranch is yours. Make it the home you want.”
She huffed around and faced ahead; her hands clenched into angry balls. “You are such a stubborn man.”
The words sliced through him…an echo of Chet’s last words to him. Wearing his heavy load of guilt, he slouched over the horses and stared at their twitching tails. It was ten miles to the next way station. The longest ten miles he’d ever traveled.
Dianne’s head fell forward. She tipped forward.
He caught her shoulder and pushed her back. “Whoa. No falling.”
Cloudy, sleep-drugged eyes regarded him. Then she jolted upright and shrugged from his touch. He curled his fingers as his hand dropped to his side.
His insides coiled as well. He hadn’t meant to offend her. Only keep her safe. But the urge to pull her to his side so she could rest was a surprise. Not one he welcomed any more than she did.
