The Homesteader's Sweetheart (9 page)

BOOK: The Homesteader's Sweetheart
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“Perhaps… Have you thought that Breanna might need a woman’s guidance? Is there anyone—someone you would consider marrying?”

A flush of red swept up Jonas’s neck and into his face. “I suppose you think I can just go into town and procure a wife at the mercantile?”

She’d said the wrong thing again. Penny started to apologize but was interrupted when a young woman about her age approached their shared blanket with a welcoming smile.

* * *

Is there anyone you would consider marrying?

Jonas forced Penny’s impertinent question from his mind as the schoolteacher, Miss Prince, struck up a conversation with his neighbor’s granddaughter. The sour woman didn’t think too much of him after the confrontation they’d had over Breanna attending school a few months back. Even now, the brown-haired tyrant was glaring at him from the corner of her eye. It made him uncomfortable.

He was used to people looking down on him, thinking he was lesser than them, but he didn’t want that for Breanna. Especially not because of a condition beyond her control.

“My brother and I are staying with our grandfather, Walt Nelson, for a few weeks,” Penny said to the schoolteacher.

Breanna shifted on the blanket, and Penny smiled down at her and wrapped one arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “And I’ve been getting to know one of your students, Miss Breanna White, here.”

The teacher’s smile drooped, her gaze turned icy. “I’m afraid the girl is not allowed in my classroom.”

Jonas wanted to protect Breanna from any disparaging remarks the teacher might make. “Honey, why don’t you run and find Seb for me? I haven’t heard his yell in a while, so he might be getting into trouble.”

Breanna left after giving him a quick hug around his neck.

Penny looked between Jonas and the teacher, puzzlement evident in her creased brow. “Why isn’t Breanna allowed to come to school?”

He should have known she would just ask outright. She was a forthright person and not afraid to speak her mind. But he didn’t want her to hear what the teacher would say about Breanna, or about the other members of his family. True, Penny had seen one of Breanna’s seizures up close, but she might change her opinion of his daughter when she understood the censure Breanna faced from others because of her condition.

“She had an
episode,
” the schoolteacher spat the word, “and I simply can’t have such goings-on in my classroom.”

Penny met the other woman’s gaze without faltering. “It’s not Breanna’s fault she has the seizures. She can’t control it.”

“It is disrupting and scares the other children. There’s no telling when she could have another
episode
and—”

Penny didn’t wait for the other woman to stop speaking, just interrupted with squared shoulders. “I’ve witnessed one of Breanna’s seizures, and it wasn’t a terrifying experience for me. I’m sure if someone explained her condition to the other children, they could be made to understand—”

“I don’t want that kind of distraction in my classroom. I won’t have it.”

Penny’s eyes flashed. Jonas was surprised she was fighting so vehemently for Breanna’s right to be in the classroom. Breanna was only a neighbor, not a relation, but the way Penny was acting, Breanna could have been her own daughter.

“Miss Prince, are you sure
you
aren’t the one who is frightened of Breanna’s seizures?”

The other woman didn’t respond, only turned and walked away.

Jonas watched Penny sit in silence, staring down at her hands. She interlaced her fingers once, then again.

When she finally looked up, her blue eyes still flashed fire. “I cannot believe that woman.”

Jonas didn’t know how to respond to her indignation.

“She isn’t the only one who feels that way,” he said quietly. No, there were several others in the community who avoided Jonas and his family, both covertly and blatantly. Just before Penny and Breanna had joined him on the picnic blanket, another family had moved away.

Penny settled one hand over Jonas’s, her fingers curling under the edge of his palm. The move startled him into looking up into her bright blue eyes, compassion shining from their depths.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with their ignorance. Sorry for Breanna’s sake.”

Penny’s strident defense of his daughter, and her compassion at this moment dissolved Jonas’s earlier indignation at her interference. It sounded as if she
cared
about his daughter. What if her insistence that Breanna learn manners stemmed from concern?

But how could he be sure? He didn’t know anything about fine ladies like Penny Castlerock.

Before he could fully understand her motives, she squeezed his hand and then released him, just in time for Matty and Ricky to slide onto the picnic blanket on their knees, bunching the blanket and almost toppling Penny.

“Sorry!” they chorused as one.

The moment was lost, but for a second, Jonas wondered if he’d seen something more than compassion in Penny’s eyes—something like admiration.

* * *

Penny glanced behind her to the passel of children in the wagon—all asleep. The gentle rocking motion, along with the rowdy play they’d engaged in at the church picnic had put them to sleep.

The four older boys, Sam included, rode ahead on horseback with Walt.

The group was nearing the Whites’ home, and Penny’s chance of talking to Jonas about her grandfather’s problems was dwindling. Jonas had been pensive and quiet since they’d spoken on the picnic blanket, hardly saying anything, even to the children. She hoped she hadn’t offended him again with her unkind words about the schoolteacher. It had just made her so
angry
that the woman held a prejudice against sweet little Breanna.

“Can I ask your advice about something?” She took care to keep her voice quiet. She didn’t want to wake the children, but more so, she didn’t want her grandfather to overhear.

“About what?”

Well, his response wasn’t exactly the enthusiastic “yes” she’d wanted, but she continued regardless.

“My grandfather. He…trusts you. Counts you as a friend.”

She saw Jonas’s eyes flicker up to where her grandfather rode with the boys.

“I know his health has been a concern; he’s seemed…not ill, exactly, since Sam and I have been with him, but…slower than I remember.”

Jonas nodded. “We spoke before about his place being run-down.”

“And then this afternoon, during the confrontation Sam caused, Grandfather couldn’t stop coughing. I’ve heard him in the mornings, as well…sometimes it’s almost as if he can’t catch his breath.”

Jonas’s brow creased.

“Do you think…” Penny hesitated, trying to word her question appropriately. “Do you think he might consider coming to Calvin to live with my parents? There’s plenty of room in our home.”

Jonas’s eyes narrowed. He considered her words for a moment, eyes fixed on the group ahead.

“Some men have the West in their blood,” he finally said. “Your grandfather’s one of them, I think. He loves his place, loves the land. His horses. I don’t know if you’d be able to persuade him to move into town.”

He was right. She knew he was right. But the helpless feeling that had come over her earlier, after Sam’s fight, wouldn’t lift. She threw up her hands. “Sam and I aren’t prepared for the kind of work Grandfather needs around his place. You’ve heard what I did to the kitchen…”

She took a deep breath and forged on. “And Sam…well, I’m worried Sam is going to cause even more trouble for my grandfather. Even if he doesn’t, neither of us knows how to fix the leaky roof in the barn or the chicken coop that’s half blown away because of the wind out here.”

He was silent, still staring ahead. What was he thinking? Was he sympathizing with her plight? Or did he think she was a grumbler, complaining when there was plenty of work to go around?

“Can’t your father send some money? Or hire some workers?”

Considering the way her father felt about her grandfather, that wasn’t likely. “I doubt that my father would be willing to do so. He and Grandfather don’t really get along.”

* * *

Jonas bit back the retort that wanted to escape. How could anyone dislike Walt Nelson? The older man had taught Jonas what it meant to be a believer, was always willing to pitch in and help when Jonas needed it. And his own son-in-law wasn’t willing to send funds to help the older man?

Here was more evidence of the different worlds Jonas and Penny came from. And yet, maybe they weren’t so different. Jonas’s father hadn’t been what a real father should be, either.

“Plus, there were…extenuating circumstances that led me to leave Calvin. I’m quite sure Father isn’t happy with me at the moment. He would probably ignore any letter I sent him just now.”

Jonas thought the man sounded like a tyrant, if he wouldn’t listen to his daughter’s request for help. He wanted to ask what had prompted her to leave town, but it wasn’t his place. And she didn’t offer the information. Did she think he wouldn’t be able to understand her reasons for leaving town?

“I don’t suppose…” Penny cleared her throat delicately, and her head tipped to one side, giving Jonas a full view of her face.

His mouth went dry, even as he tried to ignore his attraction to her.

“I know you’re busy with your own homestead, but would there be any way you could find some time to help my grandfather with some of the repairs he needs? At least until I can find another solution…”

Jonas was already shaking his head by the time her voice faded away. He had enough work—an overwhelming amount of work—to do on his own spread, plus he’d agreed to take on the job of cutting Mr. Sumner’s hay for the extra cash. He’d already be putting in extra hours, would be missing sleep. And still needed to find someone to care for Breanna.

But…

Walt was a good friend. He and Peg had been there for Jonas during times when he’d needed help with the kids. With Breanna when she’d been a baby. Walt had taught him everything Jonas now knew about horses. Walt had taught him about being a father, since Jonas’s own example of a father had been pitifully lacking.

Jonas owed the man.

“I want to help. Walt is a good friend. I just don’t see how I can manage all the work I already have to do.”

“I understand.” Her voice was low and laden with disappointment. Her shoulders slumped, and she gazed off into the distance. She seemed so discouraged that Jonas felt the need to explain himself.

“I’ve agreed to help another neighbor bring in his hay. His wife’s mother is sick and he’s going to pay me, but the boys and I are going to have a time of it getting all the work done before fall sets in.”

She nodded, touched her cheek. Had she wiped away a tear? Her face was turned away, so he couldn’t tell. He hoped not as he had no idea how to handle a teary woman. He wanted her to understand.

“With the money I’ll earn, I should be able to pay for Breanna’s treatment.”

And after today’s demonstration at the picnic, she had to understand how important that was to him.

“I just need to find someone to watch Breanna. I can’t have her underfoot.” Maybe that was the solution. “What if—do you think…?”

Now his tongue was getting all tangled. Penny did that to him. Discombobulated him.

“If you were able to watch Breanna for me, maybe handle some of the easier tasks around my place—not cooking,” he hurried to say, “maybe doing the washing, gathering eggs—Ricky and Matty can help show you how things are done—then perhaps I could spare Maxwell for a couple of days to help out at Walt’s place. Show Sam how things should be done,” he explained. He had no intention of sending his son over to Walt’s to do all the work, but Maxwell was a capable teacher.

Her expressive blue eyes settled on him, and the joy in their depths made his chest expand with an answering emotion. “Thank you.”

Chapter Nine

E
arly Monday morning, after Walt and Sam had breakfasted and returned to the family homestead, Penny followed Breanna and Seb outside for her first lesson in gathering eggs. She hoped to accomplish this without getting her arms pecked. She already bore a long red scratch from her battle with her grandfather’s hens.

Approaching the coop, Penny was distracted for a moment by the sight of Jonas’s tall figure striding into the barn. She was grateful that he’d agreed to help her grandfather, but he’d been distant, almost preoccupied this morning. Not that any of the children had seemed to notice. They shared a rowdy breakfast as usual, although Seb and Ricky had been curious about the manners she’d tried to teach Breanna.

A loud whinny drew her attention to the corral, where Oscar and Maxwell had a rope around the neck of a sorrel filly. The horse bared its teeth and reared, obviously not cooperating with the teens.

Seb let loose a low whistle and followed Penny’s distracted feet as she moved toward the corral to watch.

“They aren’t trying to break that horse themselves, are they? Where’s your father?” Penny asked Edgar, who sat on the corral’s top rail, dirt-streaked blond hair peeking out from under his hat. “Shouldn’t he be out here?”

“Don’t need him, prob’ly,” the rangy boy answered shortly. “Oscar broke three fillies last summer, and Pa wants him to teach Maxwell how t’do it this year. Besides, it’s good practice for the bronc ridin’ competition if they can get a saddle on her— Whooheee!” the boy shouted, startling Penny and causing the horse to rear up again.

“Get outta here, Ed!” Maxwell shouted.

“Don’t make noise like that! You’re scarin’ him!” came Oscar’s reprimand.

“Rope ’im in, pull ’im in,” Ed crowed, ignoring his brothers. “Jest like Oscar roped that Sally Hansen in for a kiss yesterday behind the church.”

Neither boy took their attention from the stomping, snorting horse, but both reacted to Edgar’s statement. Maxwell flushed, deep red running up into his face beneath his tan. Oscar grinned, his teeth flashing white against his tanned face.

Indignation rising, Penny turned to Edgar, conscious of Breanna and Seb listening at her elbow. “What do you mean, he
roped
a girl in for kissing?”

Edgar laughed. “Well, from where I was spying, she didn’t look none too much like she wanted the kiss. Least not at first. Until you laid a good one on her, right, Oscar?” He directed his last words to his brother, who grinned again.

Oscar wrestled the horse a few feet closer, wrapped the rope around his gloved fist. “That’s right, Eddie-boy. Sometimes ya gotta steal a kiss to get the filly settled down—” He grunted as the horse pulled against him.

Penny looked between the boys, offense making her words sharp. “Girls are not fillies. They are not to be cornered or corralled and
kissed!
And it is certainly not appropriate to be stealing kisses behind the church. Or any other building!”

Oscar and Edgar laughed, while Maxwell remained silent, focused on the horse. His ears were still red.

“Does your father approve of this behavior?” she demanded.

Edgar shrugged. “He ain’t said one way or t’other.”

* * *

Cheek pressed against old Molly’s side as he milked the placid cow, Jonas heard the ruckus outside before the barn door burst open, spilling light into the building’s dim interior.

“Jonas?”

He could tell from Penny’s voice that something—more like
someone,
one of his sons—had riled her up.

“Back here,” he murmured, purposely keeping his voice calm so the cow wouldn’t react to his sudden tension.

“Do you know what your sons are talking about, out in the corral? Oscar is proud that he cornered a girl and stole a kiss yesterday. He’s bragging about it to the other boys.”

Jonas didn’t think that was much to holler about. But she seemed pretty riled up, if the sound of her stomping feet was any indication.

“Umm—”

She went on, apparently not requiring a response, her swinging skirt appearing in his peripheral vision. “As if that is an appropriate way to court a girl—not that your boys are of an age where they need to be worrying about kissing girls yet. Why, I couldn’t believe it…”

Her voice faded as she paced toward the front of the barn, her words too low for Jonas to make out with one ear pressed against the cow’s flank.

“Aren’t you going to do anything?”
That
he heard, along with her outraged tone.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, still working at keeping his voice calm.

“Talk to your sons!” Now she sounded exasperated, as if he should have agreed with her assessment from the beginning and already known the answer. She must still be a few stalls over, because her voice was somewhat muffled. “Tell them it’s not okay to steal a kiss! It isn’t appropriate. Tell them when the time
is
appropriate.”

“How should I know when it’s
appropriate
to kiss someone?” he mumbled into Molly’s hide. “I never have.”

Her face suddenly appeared in front of him; she squatted close to Molly’s shoulder, laying one hand on the docile cow’s side. “What do you
mean,
you’ve never kissed a girl? What about Millie?”

Immediate, hot color boiled into his cheeks. He hadn’t meant for her to hear that! “Wait—you didn’t—I meant—”

But she was already shaking her head, eyes wide with realization. “You aren’t Breanna’s biological father,” she whispered the words and plopped down in the straw, as if her legs wouldn’t hold her anymore.

He eased away from Molly, taking a moment to look around and make sure none of the children were around.

“I am Breanna’s father in every way that matters,” he said in a low, firm voice. “I’ve taken care of her since the day she was born, and that makes me her pa. Not blood, not relations.”

Penny opened her mouth, probably to ask more questions, but shouts from outside drew Jonas away from Molly. He raised one hand for Penny to be quiet and when he heard, “Pa!” again, he rushed from the barn to help.

* * *

Penny couldn’t stop thinking about what Jonas had inadvertently revealed as she helped his children perform chores throughout the day.

As Matty showed her how to rub the clothes along the washboard for their weekly washing, she questioned everything she knew about her grandfather’s neighbor.

Her memories of the events from Philadelphia had grown vague as the years had passed. There had been whispers that Millie had been with child for weeks before Mrs. Trimble had called a meeting with the four girls from Penny’s dorm and shared that Millie would no longer be a part of the Academy. Penny had seen her roommate only once before Millie had been whisked away to an unknown location; the other girl had whispered that the bricklayer’s apprentice was the baby’s father. Penny had had no reason to disbelieve Millie, but now…

She’d only known Jonas as a laborer, someone in the peripheral sphere of her life. He often watched her with his piercing dark eyes when she came or went from the finishing school, though he’d never spoken to her. With his dust-covered hands and bricklayer’s apron, she’d thought him beneath her notice, but she would not turn away an admiring glance. She’d imagined he fancied her, but all of that changed with Millie’s revelation.

Then Penny had known—or thought she knew—that he was someone of loose morals. To compromise her friend’s virtue…

And now it seemed she’d been completely wrong all this time. Had Millie’s accusation caused Jonas to lose his livelihood? Had
he
been the one taken advantage of?

But why had he taken charge of Breanna? If he wasn’t the girl’s father, he couldn’t be held responsible for her.

Penny shook out a light-colored shirt that must belong to one of the bigger boys, turning her head when water droplets sprayed her. She clipped it to the hanging line, as Matty showed her, and couldn’t help but notice its worn condition and a tear near the bottom of the garment.

Jonas obviously worked himself to the bone to provide for these children. Children that weren’t even his responsibility. What kind of a man would do that, expecting nothing in return? An honorable one.

But she still didn’t understand
why.

* * *

Jonas stayed in the fields as long as he could, avoiding Penny and the questions he knew she must have. He didn’t want to dredge up his past, didn’t want her to know how little his own parents had valued him and what their abandonment had caused him to do to survive.

He knew she hadn’t thought much of him, not if she’d believed Millie Broadhurst about Breanna’s parentage. But his pride didn’t want her opinion to worsen when she found out about his past.

When his belly was roaring for some sustenance and it was almost dark, he couldn’t avoid home any longer.

After bedding down his horse, he approached the house and saw that she was waiting for him on the porch, backlit by the soft glow of a lamp shining out the window. As he got closer he could see she dozed in the chair, head lolling to one side. A quick glance revealed her dress was dirtier than he’d seen it before, with water-spots all down the front.

Matty and Breanna must’ve worked her pretty hard today.

Warmth flooded through him as he imagined coming home to her waiting for him like this every day…and he quickly shook that dangerous thought away. She’d made it clear several times that she was only here to help Walt for a little while. Best to keep his heart uninvolved.

Only he was afraid it was too late for that, after the way she’d defended Breanna yesterday.

She sighed in her sleep, the soft sound parting her lips and drawing his eyes. He could gaze at her for hours and not tire of learning her lovely features…and there was another dangerous thought. What he needed was to stay far, far away from his neighbor’s granddaughter.

“Penny,” he murmured, moving closer.

She stirred but didn’t wake. One copper curl slipped loose and fell across her cheek, tempting him to brush it away. Just brush his fingers against the softness of her cheek…

“Penny.” He shook her shoulder more forcefully than he’d intended.

She roused with a soft, “Hmm,” and an open smile that was like a fist to his chest, knocking his breath away.

He stepped off as she arched her back and stretched, trying desperately to keep the image of that joyous smile from burning into his brain. It made him want to pull her into an embrace…

“I must’ve fallen asleep,” Penny said, standing and a little wobbly on her feet. He reached out and her hand fell onto his forearm, burning fire through his shirt. “I wanted to talk with you…” Her voice faded away on a yawn.

“We should get you home. Plenty of time to talk later.” Or never, if he had his way.

“Ricky?” Jonas called quietly. The boy came to the back door. “Can you fetch a fresh horse and get him tacked up? I think Miss Penny is too tired to walk home on her own.”

Ricky hopped from the porch and raced across the rapidly darkening yard to do Jonas’s bidding.

“Should I have had him harness the wagon?” Jonas teased quietly as Penny wobbled again and this time settled right up against him, shoulder to shoulder. She was warm and pliant, felt a little like Breanna when she fell asleep in the wagon and he carried her inside. And nothing like Breanna, with curves only a woman could have.

He tilted his chin up and stared at the stars, denying the urge to wrap his arm around her shoulders and bring her closer. She wouldn’t want that.

If she’d been up in arms about Oscar stealing a kiss, she would surely be offended by his unwanted embrace.

“No…” Another yawn. “I’ll be fine. You don’t even have to take me home. I can bring the horse back in the morning.”

Ricky guided the horse close to the steps and Penny moved toward the animal, stumbling down the porch steps and into Jonas. He righted her with a hand on her upper arm, getting a whiff of her scent, something sweeter than flowers.

“I think I’d like to make sure you get there in one piece. And you don’t wander off in the wrong direction. Thanks, son.”

Jonas mounted up and Ricky helped Penny settle behind him, her small hands clutching the sides of his shirt, body supple and boneless against his back.

“All right?” He worried she’d fall asleep and slide off the horse behind him. “Do you need me to—hold you?” He bit off the strangled words.

“No, no,” her soft protest was spoken into the back of his shirt, the words heating his skin. “’M fine. Just go. Night, Rick.”

Half-disappointed and half-relieved, he nudged the horse into a walk. At least if they went slowly, she wouldn’t be hurt much if she dropped off the animal.

True to form, she was only silent for a moment. He was almost getting used to her chatter.

“Mmm. You smell like the barn.”

He tried to concentrate on her words instead of the brush of her chin against his shoulder blade. It didn’t sound like a good thing. He knew what he smelled like. Sweat and horse. “I’ve been working in the fields all day. Barely in the barn.”

BOOK: The Homesteader's Sweetheart
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