Bernie.

“How long were you in Belle?” asked Davey. “Did you meet my teacher? Her name is Delia Perkins?”

“I did not have the pleasure,” said Bernie.

“She’s mighty purty and has a heart as big as the world map hanging on the wall. But her imagination sometimes goes wild and makes her say silly things.”

“Well, maybe I should have introduced myself while I was there. A man sure likes a pretty woman.” He said it with Janelle in mind but instantly heard the panic in Davey’s voice.

“But her heart ain’t near as big as Ma’s,” Davey said. “And she’s a right sensible lady that you already met. No sense looking in town when we got the best here.”

Janelle blushed and stood to her feet. “I have fresh bread and jelly preserve,” she said almost apologetically. “I’ll see if I can manage a sweeter dessert tomorrow.”

“You concentrate on getting stronger,” said Bernie. “Make a grocery list and I’ll go to town for you.”

“I have overextended my account, Bernie. I’m afraid pickings will be scarce if you stick around this farm for the winter.”

“I have cash money in my saddlebag. Consider it my contribution.”

“You are working, that’s your contribution.”

“Ever ask if there was work in town you could do the days Davey goes to school,” said Bernie when he noticed pride rising in her face. Appeared she was not one to take advantage of a person’s kindness, that was for certain.

Her face brightened. “Davey enjoyed school for the short time he was able to attend. I’ve kept up with the few lessons his teacher sent out with well-meaning folks, but the snow kept us homebound especially after our only horse died.”

“Ma. I’ll bet Mr. Shields could use some help at Belle’s Café,” said Davey. “I’d sure love to go back to school.”

As her situation registered, a forlorn expression replaced the one burst of joy at the thought of a possible answer to her dilemma.

“Nothing has changed, Davey. It’s absurd to think of work or school. Belle is too far to walk in the winter.”

“Ah, Ma, we can do it,” whined Davey.

“You know how much work it takes to run this place, especially when the growing season starts. We’ve been getting through the lessons fine up to now. We won’t need hired money once we learn to live off the land.”

“But Mr. B. is here, Ma. Maybe he knows how to make them rows nice and straight like what’s in your mind.”

Janelle bit her lip. “Finish up your bread, Davey. Time for you to clean up and get ready for bed.”

“I’m helping with the dishes, remember?”

“I can do the cleanup,” she said rather firmly. “No place for a man’s hands to be stuck in dishwater.”

“But, there’s chores outside and…” Davey argued.

Bernie interrupted. “I can finish up outside, Davey. Getting dark, anyway. You mind your mother.”

The lad stuffed the last of his bread in his mouth. “What good is eating all those terrible parts of the animal if it doesn’t wake-up power enough for walking to town?” He disappeared in his room and the door closed.

Bernie leveled a gaze at Janelle. “Did I say something wrong?”

“What do you mean?” she asked as she cleared the dirty dishes from the table.

“You seem mighty determined to keep the lad clear of folks – even me – all of a sudden.”

She sat back down and exhaled deeply before continuing. “Mr. Drysdale. I appreciate you coming along in our time of need, but I can’t depend on your generosity forever and I need to be able to figure out my own problems if I’m to survive living in the west. I don’t think that’s part of the deal one should expect from a hired man.”

Bernie noted the hesitancy in her voice. “That’s not it at all. You’re beating around the bush.”

She spoke in the same firm manner she had used with Davey. “You are a drifter; needing a place to hold up for the winter. I’ve met your sort before. Sam Spalding was the most persistent that came calling after Jacob died. He was kind at first, and played to my vulnerability. Davey took to him, much like he’s taken to you; but after a few days his true colors shone through. The man rode out with my gun carefully aimed at his back.”

“Sorry for your hardship, ma’am.”

“I’ve survived these long months alone, and Davey and I will be fine in the future when you decide to drift on to greener pastures.”

Rejection did not sit well with Bernie and raised the hair on the back of his neck. He stood and headed to the door. “I’ll be sleeping in the barn from here on in.” Bernie stumbled into his boots and coat, unsure where he’d gone wrong. All the while she stared at him, silently scrutinizing his every move. He plunked his hat on his head and turned before leaving, “Goodnight, ma’am.”

Janelle jumped to her feet. “Wait!” She scampered around the house and returned with two blankets and a lantern. “There’s a potbelly stove in the tack room. Be sure to gather straw and make yourself a soft bed.”

While handing the armload over, she touched his bare hand and bolted back. He watched the terror fill her eyes and was more dumbfounded than ever.

“Never gave you no reason to be skittish; you’re acting like a startled deer. But don’t worry none, ma’am. I ain’t shot a woman or youngster yet and don’t plan on starting now.”

Bernie could not hide the hurt he’d undergone from her rebuff and his stomach churned as he witnessed her outward bravery fall and crumble. But it came too late. He knew his place and he determined to keep his distance from her and the boy.

Chapter 5

Janelle collapsed against the door

Вы читаете From Mourning to Joy
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