Blackstone's Bride (19 page)

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Authors: Teresa Southwick

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Fiction

BOOK: Blackstone's Bride
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“Aw forget it,” Tom said. “I bet she ain’t got nothin’ good.”

“How do you know?” Abby said, trying to hide the hurt his words had caused.

He didn’t think the children saw, but Jarrod wasn’t so easily fooled. And he wouldn’t let Tom off the hook in a hurry.

“She’s right, Tom. How do you know? Take a chance.”

“I’ll try, Uncle Jarrod,” Oliver said, squirming out of Abby’s lap and scampering up to his uncle. “If Tom doesn’t wanna do it, I will.”

“I’ll do it.” Tom snorted. “You’d get caught for sure, baby.”

“I’m not a baby,” the little boy said, his voice rising.

“Of course you’re not, Oliver,” Abby soothed. “Tom knows it’s not true. He just likes to call you that because he’s the oldest boy.”

Tom snorted again, but didn’t say anything.

Abby stood up and walked around the room, whistling as if she was strolling Main Street in Hollister browsing and
glancing in store windows. Jarrod angled his head in her direction, indicating Tom should make his move. The boy frowned, looking indecisive, but finally moved into step behind her. He stalked for a few moments, then reached a hand into the pocket of her green cotton skirt. When he latched onto something and tried to pull it out, it got stuck in the folds of her skirt.

Abby grabbed his wrist. “Gotcha.”

“No fair,” he said. “You knew I was there.”

She looked at Jarrod. “He’s right. I think he should get the licorice whip anyway.”

The boy’s gray eyes grew round. “That’s what it is?”

“Yes,” she said, pulling out several. “I have one for everybody. It was supposed to be a surprise before bedtime.”

“Don’t want none,” Tom said.

“Any,” Abby corrected as she handed the candy out to the others.

“Can I have Tom’s?” Oliver asked.

“May I,” Abby said. “And if Tom truly doesn’t want any, yes, you may have his.”

When Tom shook his head and turned away from her, Oliver took both eagerly, stuffing one in his mouth and the other in his pocket.

Katie took her treat and ran over to Jarrod. “It’s your turn, Uncle Jarrod.”

“My turn?”

“To play pickpocket.”

“But Abby just handed out treats. She doesn’t have anything for me.”

“How do you know? You have to pick her pocket and find out. You have to play Dodger so we know if you’ve been listening.”

He glanced at Abby. “I’m game if you are.”

She looked like she’d rather walk barefoot through fire. “I think it’s time the children were in bed,” she said.

“But it’s still early, Abby,” Katie complained.

“Will you tuck me in?” Oliver asked, yawning.

“Of course, sweetie,” she answered. “Lily, you too.”

“But I’m too old to go to bed the same time they do.”

Abby shooed the two youngest to the bottom of the stairs. “You don’t have go to sleep. Read if you want to. But you need to rest.”

“Oh, all right,” Lily said, stomping through the room. “Good night, Uncle Jarrod.” She stopped to kiss his cheek.

“Sweet dreams,” he said. He moved beside Abby and watched until the three disappeared from sight, shaking his head in wonder at how easily she handled them.

“I’ll be up in a few minutes to check on you.” Abby turned from watching the others go up. “Tom? You too. It’s getting late.”

“You got no right to tell me what to do,” he said angrily.

“Tom,” Jarrod said, a warning in his voice.

Abby put her hand on his arm. “I’ve got to deal with him,” she said.

She was right. Jarrod knew he couldn’t be there all the time. He would have to trust her to take care of whatever came up with the kids in his absence.

She moved to where the boy sat on the sofa, dangling his legs. Lowering herself beside him, she said, “Tom, I said it’s time for bed. I expect you to complain a lot like the others, then do as I ask.”

“You’re not my ma. Ya got no call to tell me what to do.” He glared at her, his arms folded over his chest.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she said.

“Oh, yeah? You’re just hired on, like Gib and Dusty and Slim. That’s all you are. The others might need you to tell ‘em what t’do, but I don’t. Don’t need nobody.”

“Anybody,” she corrected. “You probably could survive without me, but your uncle wants better than that for you. You’re right about one thing, he is paying me. To see that you’re taken care of. That means you’ll do as I see fit.”

“You can’t make me,” he shouted.

“Wrong again,” she said, taking his arm. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The choice is yours.”

“You can’t make me,” he said again, but there was less confidence in his voice this time as he looked up to meet her gaze.

Her eyes narrowed on him as she tightened her grip. “You’ve been wrong twice now. Care to try for three?” she asked, pulling him to his feet as she stood.

For several tense moments he glared at her, judging if she could really carry out her threat. Finally, he yanked his arm away. “Good night, Uncle Jarrod,” he mumbled as he passed him on his way to the stairway.

Jarrod truly admired the way she dealt with the children, using just the right amount of toughness and tenderness. What would he do without her?

“‘Night, Tom.” Jarrod let out a long breath when he was gone. “Could you have done it? Taken him upstairs, I mean.”

“I’m glad I didn’t have to find out. He’s put on some bulk since he got here.”

“I have a feeling you’d have managed it somehow.”

“I’d have given it my best shot.” Frowning, she glanced at the stairway. “There’s an anger in him I don’t understand, Jarrod.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “I know. He’s fine with me and the other men. We’ve all become real fond of him. But the way he is with you—It’s a puzzle. The other kids seem okay.”

“They are. As far as I can tell. I expected that things would be slower with Tom, but he seems to be getting more hostile, and I don’t know why.” She sighed.

“He’s growing up too. Like Lily. Maybe this is just his way.”

Frowning, she shook her head. “At least I’m still taller than he is. Not for long, though. I remember when Clint started sprouting, when he was just a little older than Tom. Couldn’t keep him in pants, at least ones that weren’t high water.”

“You raised him by yourself, didn’t you?”

“After our mother died.”

“So I was right this morning when I said you understood the kids because you hadn’t had much fun.”

“Doesn’t matter. Can’t miss what you never had.” She shrugged. “I’ll go tuck them in and hear prayers.”

Long after she’d gone, Jarrod thought about her. He wondered again how he’d managed without her. And he wasn’t just thinking of the children. Every day that passed with her under his roof made it harder to keep his hands off her. Still, he knew she didn’t want his tender feelings. So he turned his musing in a different direction.

It didn’t take much for him to figure out that Abby Miller’s life had been filled with responsibility and not much else. Maybe that’s why she was so determined to fulfill her promise to get Clint through school, then take off after her father. Trying to get back what she’d lost.

He couldn’t fault her, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He paused, his eyes narrowed in thought.

An idea struck him, and took hold.

11

Two weeks later Jarrod
had breakfast with them again. This time Abby knew about it ahead of time since she was in on the surprise planned for Tom’s birthday. After eating, Abby and Jarrod followed the children, who had raced to the barn, where Jarrod had sent them. It was the middle of June, and she savored the warmth and the clear blue sky overhead. This was her favorite kind of day.

“Do you think he suspects anything?” Jarrod asked her.

“Not that I can tell. But he doesn’t show what he’s feeling much.”

“I noticed. Maybe this will help.”

Abby increased her pace, anxious to see the boy’s face. “I can’t wait. Hurry, Jarrod.”

“I’m practically running now,” he said, laughter in his voice.

Abby wasn’t sure who would enjoy this more, Jarrod or Tom.

After entering the barn, it took several moments for her eyes to adjust after the brightness outside. Standing just inside the door in a shaft of sunlight, Abby smelled the pungent odors of hay and horses. She heard the children as they patted the necks of the stabled animals.

Katie ran up to them. “Why are we here, Uncle Jarrod?”

“Gather ‘round, everyone,” he said. After they did, he cleared his throat. “Today is Tom’s twelfth birthday.”

Lily gasped. “Oh, Tom, I forgot. Happy birthday.”

Everyone extended good wishes as Tom stuck his hands in his pockets and poked at the straw on the floor with the toe of his shoe. Abby swore his neck turned red, but dim as it was and with his head down, she couldn’t tell if the color rose to his cheeks.

“I have something for you, Tom,” Jarrod said.

The boy’s head snapped up. His eyes were the mirror of his uncle’s, gray and filled with excitement. “You didn’t have to, Uncle Jarrod.”

“I wanted to. Follow me.” He led them through the barn and back to the corral beyond, where the newest foal frolicked beneath the watchful eye of her mother.

Katie pointed to the frisky little horse. “Why does the horse have a red ribbon around his neck, Uncle Jarrod? Won’t that hurt him? Is it too tight?”

“No. And that’s a she. Right, Tom?”

The boy nodded, his gaze following every move of the baby horse. He had come to a dead stop when he’d seen the ribbon, but hadn’t said a word. As if he was afraid to hope, even though that ribbon told him the horse was a present and he was the only one having a birthday.

Jarrod stood beside Tom, who had climbed up two white slats on the fence and rested his arms on top. His uncle imitated the pose. “Tom, the baby foal is yours. Happy birthday, son.”

Abby swore Tom went so still he even stopped breathing. Then he slowly looked at Jarrod, his eyes huge. “You mean it, Uncle Jarrod?”

“I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”

Abby came up on the boy’s other side. “What do you think, Tom? Are you excited? Are you surprised?” She felt like Katie with all her questions. She couldn’t stop. Her feelings just rose to the top and spilled over at seeing the boy’s dream come true.

“I can’t believe it,” Tom said, forgetting his hostility. He
shook his head and whistled. The foal skidded to a stop and lifted her head, listening. Tom did it again, and she trotted over, then sniffed at him through the fence boards.

Oliver took his thumb out of his mouth and climbed up beside Jarrod. “Is Tom gonna be a cowboy now, Uncle Jarrod?”

“If he wants to.”

“Do ya, Tom?” the boy asked.

“Yup,” Tom said, gently rubbing the baby’s nose.

Oliver looked at Jarrod. “I wanna be a cowboy too.” He stuck his thumb back in his mouth and precariously held onto the fence with one hand.

Jarrod plucked him from the slats and settled the boy on his forearm. “You sure that’s what you want to be?”

The youngster nodded, his head and arm going up and down with the movement.

“All right, then, I’m going to tell you a secret,” Jarrod said.

“What?” Oliver asked around the finger in his mouth.

“As much as they might want to, cowboys can’t suck their thumbs.”

“Why?” Oliver asked, suspicion gathering in his blue eyes. They had all tried to get him to stop, and he sensed another lecture.

“They need two hands all the time.”

“What for?”

“Riding. Roping.”

“Really?” Oliver asked.

Jarrod nodded solemnly. “It’s dangerous too. If a cowboy was riding hell-bent for leather and his horse stepped in a gopher hole, why, the jarring he’d take would not only shake loose his common sense, it could make him bite that thumb clean off.”

To keep from laughing, Abby clamped her teeth tightly together. Not only was Jarrod’s serious air tickling her, but also the sheer genius of his tactic to break the boy’s habit without turning it into a big deal.

Oliver glanced cross-eyed at the four fingers visible in
front of his face. He lowered his hand. “Is Tom gonna ride his new horse?”

“Not today,” Jarrod said. “She’s not big enough. But eventually he will. He’ll take care of her the way he’s been doing. Today he gets to name her.”

“What are ya gonna call her, Tom?” Oliver asked.

“Don’t know yet.”

Jarrod set Oliver on the ground. The boy started to put his thumb in his mouth, but stuck it in his pocket instead. It was all Abby could do not to clap her hands and jump in the air.

“A name’s real important,” Jarrod said, putting his hand on Tom’s shoulder. “No harm in taking your time.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Another thing,” Jarrod added. “I want you to have a new saddle. Couldn’t get it in time for your birthday, but it’s part of your present. We’re going into Hollister the day before the Fourth of July so we can pick out something.”

Tom looked like he was about to explode from happiness. He only hesitated a split second before he threw his arms around Jarrod and buried his face against his uncle’s shirt. “This is the best day of my whole life. Thank you, sir,” he said. There was a husky note in his voice that made Abby swallow hard.

“I wish it was my birthday,” Katie said wistfully.

“Me too,” Lily said.

Abby put an arm around each of the girls. “It will be soon enough.”

“The day’s just begun,” Jarrod said, patting Tom’s shoulder. Abby liked the way he didn’t seem embarrassed by the boy’s show of affection.

“Do you have another surprise that I don’t know about?” she asked.

He nodded. “We’re going to declare our own holiday.”

“Like Independence Day?” Katie asked. “Yes,” Jarrod answered.

“Are we gonna have fireworks?” Her eyes lit up with excitement.

“No,” he said seriously. “We can’t take the chance of fire out here. That’ll have to wait until we go to town.”

“What are we gonna do?” Tom asked.

“That’s up to you. What we’re
not
gonna do is work.”

“Can we go fishin’?” the birthday boy wanted to know.

Jarrod grinned. “I think that’s a fine idea.”

“I’ll fix a lunch for you to take,” Abby said.

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