A Worthy Pursuit (30 page)

“What reason did you give for the delay?” Dan extracted his leg from the arm of the chair where it’d been dangling and planted his foot on the floor to face Stone more squarely.

Stone winced. “Said I needed the time to seduce the teacher into giving me the girl willingly so I could get around her having actual custody of the kid.”

“And I thought
I
was bad when it came to women.”

“Well, what else would a man like Franklin have believed?”

Dan held up a hand to ward off Stone’s defensiveness. “I ain’t passin’ judgment. It’s actually a pretty good ploy. Explains Miss Atherton’s presence at the ranch and buys us a little time. But that time will do us no good if we can’t get evidence against Dorchester.”

The two spent several minutes tossing around ideas, none of which carried much merit. “We need to find a handful of businessmen who’d be willing to testify to Dorchester’s unscrupulous business practices. Surely there’d be enough animosity somewhere to flush out the truth.” Stone punched his fist against his thigh. There
had
to be a way.
Please, God. Let there be a way.

Dan huffed out a breath and sagged back into his seat. “But how do we identify who these business partners are?”

“We could use Grandfather’s secret ledger.”

The childish voice drew Stone’s head around. Lily stood in the middle of the parlor rug, her new blue dress swirling around her legs as she twisted from side to side.

“I’ve never looked inside, but I know where he keeps it. It probably has some names in it.”

For the first time since Stone had left Dan’s ranch, he found a genuine reason to smile.

29

Charlotte sat at the window of her new upstairs bedchamber, staring down the Hawk’s Haven drive until a quiet rap sounded against her open door. Charlotte blinked and slowly turned to find Marietta Hawkins stepping into the room with a tray bearing a bowl of what smelled like beef stew along with a pair of corn muffins.

“You know, the front room downstairs has a lovely view of the road, too. And the time will pass much more quickly with the boys running about, distracting you.” Marietta raised her brows in a slightly chiding manner as she set the tray on the desk.

“They’re not causing you any trouble, are they?” The broth smelled heavenly, but too much anxiety churned in her stomach to allow an appetite.

“No, no,” Marietta assured her. “I think John worries that you’ve taken ill, though.”

Charlotte bit her lip. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . I
need
to watch for them. I can’t explain it. It’s as if watching for them, concentrating all my energy on praying them back home, is helping them return safely.” Hearing her feelings in words made her
shake her head. So foolish. As if her waiting at the window had anything at all to do with Stone’s ability to bring Lily home. “I know it’s silly—”

“Not at all.” Marietta circled the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress near Charlotte’s chair. “Women have been praying their men home since Adam and Eve left the garden. And you better believe it makes a difference. I shudder to think about the poor fellows who don’t have a mother or sister, wife or sweetheart praying on their behalf. It doesn’t matter how strong and capable our men are, they still need the Lord’s protection. I might not be able to guard them against an outlaw’s bullet or a raging bull’s horns, but I can be on my knees, petitioning the One who can.” She laid a hand on Charlotte’s arm, a touch that communicated understanding while infusing quiet courage.

Charlotte covered Marietta’s hand with her own. “Thank you.”

She truly didn’t know what she would have done the past few days without this kind woman. After the incident at the cabin, Marietta had insisted Charlotte and the children take up residence in the big house, and without Mr. Barrett around to argue, no one gainsaid her. She’d kept Charlotte so busy the first day—in the kitchen, weeding the garden, even performing Beethoven on the out-of-tune piano Mr. Hawkins kept in the front room, all while distracting her with constant, frivolous chatter—that Charlotte hadn’t had time to fall apart before Stone’s message arrived that evening.

Glancing down at the crumpled paper in her lap, Charlotte slid her hand from Marietta’s and smoothed the creases from the small sheet she’d read countless times over the last two days.

Have Lily. Horses need to recover.
Be back Saturday.

Such a brief message. So many questions still swirled through her mind. But he’d given her the one piece of information that
mattered most. Lily was safe. Stone was safe. The rest could wait.

“Hmm . . . I suppose the view
is
better up here.” Marietta stood and moved to the window. For a moment, her features took on a degree of longing that distracted Charlotte from her own thoughts.

Perhaps her new friend’s understanding stemmed from more than just her compassionate nature.

As fast as it had appeared, however, the expression vanished behind Marietta’s gracious smile. “Well,” she said, turning away from the view, “I promised the boys I would dig out my father’s chess set. Better see to it before they accuse me of forgetting.” She patted Charlotte’s shoulder as she passed but then paused at the door. “Perhaps you’ll come down after you’ve had a bite and play for us again. Mama’s piano never sounded so good as when you played it. I know it did
my
heart good to hear the cheerful tunes.”

All at once, Charlotte was struck by how selfish she was being. She’d closeted herself away with her own fears, never once considering that others might be just as worried as she. Well, no more. If a little music on an imperfectly tuned piano could bring this dear woman respite, Charlotte would gladly play all afternoon. Prayer was important, but so was trust. Time to leave those who were out of her reach in God’s hands and tend to those who were close by. “I’ll be down shortly.”

Charlotte joined the others downstairs and was immediately swept into the front room and deposited on the piano bench. The boys abandoned their chess game to call out requests, as did Marietta, and soon the house was filled with music. Lively, cheerful tunes to banish the heavy atmosphere hanging over the
ranch. Stephen confiscated a pair of spoons from the kitchen and fiddled with them until he found a steady
clickity-clack
rhythm to match her beat. Marietta clapped her hands and tapped her toes while John climbed into Charlotte’s lap and started taking over the music without missing a beat.

“Do ‘Turkey in the Straw,’ Miss Lottie!” Stephen called when the final notes of “The Yellow Rose of Texas” faded.

“All right.” Charlotte leaned down and whispered to John, “You take the melody. I’ll add some ornamentation.”

John grinned. It was their favorite game. He started in on the melody with his right hand, the simple notes clear in the air, his tempo sedate. Then he added the left hand and began to increase the speed. Once Charlotte caught his rhythm, she closed her eyes, listening to the unsung harmonies that danced through her mind. She added a plucky bass line first then stretched around John’s back to reach the upper register. Soon there were entire families of turkeys dancing in the straw.

Stephen tossed his spoons aside and jumped to his feet. “Come on, Miss Hawkins. Let’s dance.”

Marietta chuckled but didn’t resist answering his summons. Soon the two were locked at the elbows, swinging about the center of the room. Charlotte laughed along with them, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days. This was what she’d needed—to be surrounded by friends and music and gaiety. Why had she ever thought being alone would be better?

Feeling inspired, Charlotte improvised on her improvisation, adding a military beat in the bass to imitate drums while trilling the upper registers like a pair of flutes. John adjusted the melody to match her new beat and soon Stephen and Marietta kicked up their knees, threw out their elbows, and marched in vigorous circles about the room. After a few minutes of that, Charlotte threw in some syncopation, reminiscent of the Negro spiritu
als she’d always enjoyed. The dance changed again. Marietta grabbed handfuls of her skirts and swished the fabric in front of her as she bounced lightly on her toes. Stephen kicked front and then back and then repeated it while waving his hands to the sides.

John let go a giggle, a rare sound from the quiet boy. Charlotte kissed his head and sent a prayer of thanks heavenward for the blessing of joy.

The joy
of the Lord is your strength.
Her mother’s favorite verse whisked through her mind. Charlotte had never understood it until now. She’d always thought her mother simply used it as an excuse to sing whenever she felt the urge. When one was already joyful, after all, she didn’t really need strength, did she? No, it was when worry and anger and fear consumed a person that she needed God’s strength the most.

Only now did Charlotte realize that one could choose joy even in times of despair. God’s blessings were so prevalent, a person could always find reason to rejoice. One simply had to trust God enough to leave her problems at His feet and open her eyes to the blessings already provided. Music. Friendship. Laughter. They had been here all the time, but Charlotte had shut them out. Now they flowed through her, strengthening her. Giving her hope, renewed optimism, and a level of contentment she’d never experienced while sitting at the window.

“
I
want to dance!” a newcomer shouted.

Charlotte’s head whipped around. “Lily!” Discordant notes clanged. Yanking her hands from the keys, she wiggled out from beneath John, setting him to the side of her on the bench. Then she shot to her feet and ran across the room. “Oh, Lily!” Charlotte threw herself to her knees on the rug in front of Lily and hugged the girl to her. “You’re back. Praise God, you’re back!” Tears welled, but she closed her eyes against them and
reveled in the feel of her daughter—yes,
her
daughter—pressed against her chest.

“Of course I’m back, Miss Lottie.” The fierce way Lily clung to Charlotte belied the outright confidence of her words. “Mr. Hammond always retrieves what he sets out after. Isn’t that right, Mr. Barrett?” She looked behind her to the man in question for confirmation.

It took Dan a minute to drag his gaze away from the very lovely Marietta, who was still a tad flushed and out of breath from her dance with Stephen. “Uh . . . yep. That’s right.” He finally nodded at Lily, which earned him a smile from more than one female in the room. “Stone’s got the tenacity of a bloodhound. He never comes home empty-handed.”

Stone. Charlotte’s gaze locked with his. She stilled at the intensity there. His amber eyes overflowed with promises. To protect. To provide. To overcome. For
her
.

Her breath caught at that last thought. He did what he did because he was honorable and wanted right to prevail. He did it to keep Lily safe. Yet the longer Charlotte held his gaze, the louder the true message sounded in her heart.
For you.
He’s doing it all for you.

Charlotte retreated from his gaze and the uncomfortable fluttery sensations it inspired in her belly. Squeezing Lily to her one more time, she took refuge in the familiar affection of children. This she understood. This was safe. And Lily’s small body felt so wonderful tucked within her arms after so many days of separation. It was nearly impossible to let the girl go, but she did. For she owed a debt of gratitude to the one who had returned her. A debt she could never repay.

Slowly, Charlotte gained her feet and moved to stand in front of Stone. Chatter rose behind her as Stephen pestered Lily with questions about what had transpired since the night she’d been
taken. Marietta quizzed Dan in similar fashion. No one seemed to be paying any attention to Charlotte and Stone.

“Thank you.” The words fell softly from her lips, so inadequate, yet she could find no others. “Thank you for bringing her back to me.”

He said nothing. Just nodded. Then he raised his hand and stroked the length of her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Charlotte’s eyes fluttered closed. Such tenderness nearly undid her. Nothing else in the room existed in that moment. Just his touch. His nearness. And the desire it stirred in her heart. A desire to belong to this man and no other for all the days of her life.

Her eyes flew open. What was she thinking? Worse, what was she doing? Pulse racing, she stepped back and glanced around, sure she’d find curious or even disapproving eyes on her. But no one was looking at her save John, still standing by the piano.

“Can I play for Lily, Miss Lottie?” he called out to her the moment their gazes met, as if he’d been patiently waiting for her to finish with Stone and look his way. “She wants to dance.”

Lily immediately clapped her hands. “Oh yes, Miss Lottie. Please. It looked like so much fun.”

And suddenly all eyes
were
on her. Warmth crept up Charlotte’s neck and cheeks. “Of course you can play.” Anything to get their eyes off of her. “I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

John scrambled onto the bench again and filled the room with the bouncy melody of “Oh! Susanna.” Stephen took up his spoons again while Marietta twirled about the floor with Lily. Even Daniel Barrett slapped his thumb against his leg to the beat as he leaned against the wall.