Well, now,” the ranger said, although his face spoke volumes more.
Obviously he hadn’t intended for her to know this, although he’d certainly been busy making plans. She gave him what she hoped would be an I-don’t-care look. The lopsided smile she’d come to love emerged, and Grace felt what little breakfast she’d eaten threaten to rise at the sight of it.
“It would be my pleasure to have you here,” she said quickly, hoping the numbness she felt couldn’t be heard in her voice. “You’re welcome to stay as long as Mr. Harte does.”
Grace plastered on a bright smile and watched Jed’s fade. If the ranger could consider leaving, then at least he would leave with no idea she would miss him terribly.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just go have Theresa set another place.”
She turned her back on the men and concentrated on walking slowly toward the house until a hand on her wrist tugged her backward. Whirling around, she came face-to-face with Jed Harte.
The lopsided smile had vanished completely. Hers disappeared as well. Even the satisfaction of having him think she wouldn’t miss him had left, replaced by a yawning cavern of emptiness. Not since the dark days after Ben’s death had she felt such a sense of dread.
“I’m sorry, Grace, I know you’re surprised but—”
She held up her free hand to stop him. “Your friend seems like a nice man. I’m sure the two of you will do just fine in Galveston.”
He nodded. “I reckon he is, and I’m sure we would but—”
A sharp tug released her hand, and she turned to take the first of five porch steps. “But he’s going to be hungry after his ride,” she tossed over her shoulder. “Why don’t you show him where he can stable his horse?”
“I already did,” he said. “Stop, Grace,” he added, then picked her up by the waist and set her on her feet in front of him. “Stand still and listen, woman,” he said roughly. “This is important.”
Shading her eyes from the sun, Grace bit back on her anger and disappointment and said a quick prayer for the right words to come. “All right,” she said slowly as she watched the preacher lead his horse toward the barn. “Speak your mind, Ranger.”
He ducked his head and glanced toward the porch and the basket where Adam had begun to make little cooing sounds. Sunlight danced on the inky darkness of Jed’s hair and turned some of the strands a deep golden color. The gold, she realized with a start, matched the amber of his eyes.
Slowly, he turned his gaze on her. A sane woman would have walked away. Grace stood stock-still and stared.
“I’m a man of my word, Grace Delaney,” he said in a low voice. “I told you I’d take care of things around here until your family could show up to claim you, and I don’t reckon that’s something I’d walk away from.”
As his meaning penetrated her heart, it threatened to soar. Lord, please give me the words to answer him, she again prayed.
“Say something,” he said, his voice ragged and laced with what sounded like a thread of desperation. He caught her wrist once more. “Say anything.”
Say good-bye to him, came the answer she hadn’t wanted to hear. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. With care, she pulled out of his grasp to take his hand in hers. “You were forced into that promise, and I’ll not have you bound to it.”
“Doesn’t matter how I agreed to it.” The lopsided smile returned. “Until I know you and the young’uns are taken care of, you’re just going to have to get used to having me around.”
Happiness bubbled to the surface and emerged in a broad grin. “Is that so?”
“Yes, ma’am, that’s so.” The ranger dipped his head as Adam’s whimpering increased. “You’d better go fetch the little feller.”
“Miz Grace,” Theresa called from the kitchen. “We be havin’ company for lunch?”
She cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the woman in the doorway. “Set one extra place at the table, please.”
“Just one?” she asked. “Then what’re you gonna do ’bout those other folks?”
Grace turned to question Theresa, then caught a glimpse of the riders coming toward the house. Her heart sank when she recognized the well-dressed gentlemen. It had been more than a decade since she’d seen them, but she would have known her father, Thomas Beaudry, Sr., and her brother, Tom, anywhere.
Before she could catch her breath, the two riders reached the clearing and the house. “Father,” she whispered, “it’s really you.”
“Grace Mary-Celine Beaudry,” Thomas, Sr., said in a rush of breath. His face paled, and for a moment he looked as if he might slip off his horse. “Your letter said…”
“You’re a sight for sore eyes, Gracie,” Tom said. “And seeing you for myself sure beats a letter.”
Her gaze shifted from the stiff-backed silver-haired judge to her brother, seated casually in the saddle. From Tom’s thick shock of dark curls to his stubborn jaw and soft brown eyes, he looked much as she remembered him at age fourteen. The difference came in the breadth of his shoulders and the length of his legs.
He’d already eclipsed her height before she left, but now, as he climbed out of the saddle, she could see he’d continued to grow until he’d passed the judge as well.
The judge.
Grace swallowed her fear and stared directly into the eyes of her father. Still seated atop a bay mare, the look in those eyes seemed to match the feelings in Grace’s heart. True to his nature, Judge Beaudry returned the stare without comment, leaving Grace to finally look away.
Never had she expected to see him alive. Obviously, he felt the same. Her mind raced as she watched him dismount and stand uncomfortably beside her brother. His eyes scanned the landscape as if he were looking for something.
She cast a glance over her shoulder to the little basket where Adam had been fussing only a few minutes ago. Thankfully, he seemed to have settled back to sleep. When her gaze returned to the men, she saw Tom studying her intently.
“I sure missed you, Gracie.”
Knees weak, Grace tilted to look into her brother’s eyes, and her whole world went with it. With a firm grip, the ranger she’d forgotten stood at her side righted her. He offered a weak smile, one she couldn’t manage to return.
“Jedadiah Harte,” he said, thrusting his hand toward her father. “Pleased to meet you.”
The judge’s eyes narrowed to slits as he slowly acknowledged the gesture. Tom’s handshake bore a bit more enthusiasm, but the wariness he wore like armor could not be missed. “Tom Beaudry,” he said, “and this is my father, Judge Beaudry.”
Jed seemed to be doing a little sizing up of his own, and when he’d finished, he offered the Beaudry men a smile. To Grace, he offered a protective squeeze of her hand, which he quickly released.
“I believe you and I have met, Judge Beaudry,” he said slowly. “Couple of years back I ran into a fellow named Collins. Bart Collins, I believe.”
“Collins?” He shook his head. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”
Jed nodded. “I reckon you see all kinds in your line of work.”
This time her father’s eyes turned on Grace and rested there for a moment. “I suppose I do,” he answered, focusing once more on Jed.
“This Collins fellow, he’d done some dirty work down toward New Orleans, and he was right reluctant to go back. Once I explained it a different way, old Collins up and changed his mind. I believe you tried his case.”
The judge’s wrinkled face softened slightly and a look of recognition began to grow. Numb, Grace smoothed her skirt and watched in awe as her father actually began to smile. What she wouldn’t have given just once during her girlhood to have him smile at her that way.
At least she’d learned her heavenly Father had no such limits to His compassion. Reminded of Him, she quickly lifted the uncomfortable situation to the Lord in prayer.
“So you’re Ranger Captain Heartless Harte,” the judge said, admiration lacing his words. He cast a glance at Tom, who seemed as surprised as Grace at their father’s reaction. “You know who he is, don’t you, boy?”
Tom nodded. “Anybody who reads a paper knows about Heartless Harte.”
Jed grimaced but said nothing. Finally the clang of the dinner bell broke the silence.
“Perhaps you two would like to wash up before we eat,” Grace said unevenly.
The ranger led the men away while Grace raced to the porch to snag Adam and his basket and escape to the kitchen. Today the comforting smells of sweet potato pie, ham, biscuits, and a mess of fresh collard greens only made her stomach hurt. The baby must have sensed her nervousness because he began to cry.
“Sounds like someone wants his dinner,” Theresa commented. “You go on and feed the little mite, and I’ll see t’ the gentlemens.”
Grace nodded and lifted the baby out of his basket. “Where are Ruth and the children?” she asked as she bundled Adam in his blankets.
“Gone t’ have a picnic.” She gave Grace a sideways look. “Don’t you ’member? You helped those angels pack the hamper last night.”
She did remember, barely.
Adam’s wails calmed as he began to look for his dinner. Scarcely had she carried the baby into the bedroom and begun to nurse him before the sound of heavy footsteps thundered through her parlor. Low, deep voices spoke in even tones, preventing Grace from hearing what they said.
Having so many men in the house at once discomfited her. Even when Ben had been rangering, she’d never had to play hostess to more than a couple of extra men.
Ben.
The thought of him surged like a knife through her stomach as she looked down on his peacefully nursing son. The son he would never know this side of heaven. Tears shimmered but did not fall.
Her memories of Ben, while they could never be forgotten, had begun to fade until they seemed to fit neatly into a corner of her heart. Now she could safely revisit them without feeling the blinding ache of his loss. Now she could see that she could go on living without Ben Delaney, and while life would never again be perfect, it could still be sweet.
Especially with her three precious babies.
And with the ranger, came the errant thought.
Grace gasped. Had she really come to think of Jed in that way? She shook her head. Of course not. He was her friend, her helper, and of course, a source of constant irritation and amusement. He would never replace Ben in her life or in her heart.
Never.
“Adam, your father would have loved you so much,” she whispered. “You’re not going to meet him in this life, but I intend to love you enough for both of us.”
While the sounds of dishes clanking and men talking drifted under the closed door, Grace shifted the baby to burp him then settled him to finish his feeding. A short while later, he fell asleep, full and satisfied, and she placed him in the center of the feather bed with pillows on all sides to prevent him from falling.
One last look at her sleeping son and she fell to her knees to pray. “Father, I know I’m becoming a real pest, but the ranger says You don’t mind if we talk to You a lot, so here I am again.”
A lone tear gathered at the corner of her eye. She blinked hard, but it fell anyway. Laughter trailed the sound of scraping chairs and shook her already frazzled nerves. She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and swallowed her frustration.
“Lord, You know what’s in my heart. I just don’t know what to pray for anymore. I won’t leave this place Ben and I built, and I can’t give my babies to my father to raise like he raised me and Tom. I don’t want Jed to leave because I will miss him something awful. I don’t know what to tell You to do.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Father, You are a mighty God, and You can work all of this for good. I turn over my family and the ranger and this whole mess to You and ask it in Jesus’ name. Amen.”
A calm descended, lifting Grace to her feet. With a newfound confidence, she opened the door and headed for the kitchen, ready to take on all three men in her life. Unfortunately, she found the kitchen empty, although just outside the door she could hear the laughter of children and the soft, deep voice of her father.
She crept closer to the window and watched in utter amazement as the stern man she knew lifted little Mary to his shoulders and carried her around the porch at a slow gallop. Bennett played the bottom of a copper pot like a drum and sang along with words that made no sense. Ruth stood in the distance holding the picnic hamper and smiling while she spoke in soft tones with Tom.
Things that had once seemed so confusing now seemed crystal clear. She knew exactly what she had to do.
He knew exactly what he had to do. After speaking to the preacher and the judge, and rereading the letter from San Antonio he’d been holding for the past month, Jed’s path seemed crystal clear. He slipped the paper back into his saddlebag and placed his Bible on top of it.
The judge, he decided, was a decent sort, even if he had committed the error of cutting a perfectly wonderful lady out of his life for following her mind and not his. He and his son would take good care of Grace and her children, of that he’d assured Jed. Tom, the brother, seemed a bit more enthusiastic about staying at the landing until it could be sold, but the judge had given his word the Delaney family would receive his finest care and hospitality in New Orleans.
And if you couldn’t trust a judge, whom could you trust?
With Grace Delaney safe in the arms of her family, Jed was released from his promise and free to move on. Surely the Reverend Spivey’s visit had been a sign that the Lord meant for him to be on his way.
After all, he had a long way to go before he felt like he could stand before the Lord and answer for his sins.
Jed cinched the saddlebag and made one last trip to his cabin. His gift to Grace sat just inside the door, and he gave it one last long look. Unhappy with what he saw, he knelt beside the bed he’d made for Adam to make absolutely sure the rails looked straight and the finish was smooth.
The cradle had been made of the finest rosewood scraps he’d seen this side of the Mississippi. Shaw had laughed when he told him how the table had been broken, and Jed had hated that he had been the one whose clumsiness had reduced the once beautiful masterpiece into something less than furniture.
He’d planned for a month how he would take those scraps and build a proper bed for little Adam, and it had taken him the better part of another month to actually build it.
The boy needed a bed in the worst way, so all the time he spent was well worth it. It irked Jed when Grace carried the boy around in a basket that made him look like Moses hiding in the rushes. A boy deserved a proper bed.
He also deserved a man around to teach him how to grow up right. All three of those children did.
Saying good-bye to Bennett and Mary this morning had broken his heart. He’d already decided he’d have to find the time to help with the planting come spring, but another visit before then just might be in order.
After all, the Rangers had put him in charge in Galveston, and he could run the office as he saw fit. He’d just have to look up a few of his more trusted men and hire them on to help. That would free him up for more time to do his preaching and his visiting.
He began to tally a list of potential candidates as he used the back of his sleeve to polish the post to a soft luster. Two or three good men came to mind right off, and he made a note to write to them as soon as he got settled in Galveston.
This decided, he stepped back to give the finished product a critical examination, then frowned when he noticed the side rail on the left looked a bit uneven. Perhaps he should put off his trip to Galveston until tomorrow to give him time to fix it. He could write his letters tonight and send them the first chance he got.
“It would also give you another night to sit and eat pie and pretend you’re not all starry-eyed and foolish over the boy’s mother, too,” he said under his breath, as he spied his hat on the cot and made a grab for it.
“Captain Harte,” the reverend called. “Are you ready?”
No, he longed to say. I’ll never be ready.
“I’m ready,” he answered, wiping a speck of dust off the carved headboard with the tail of his shirt. “Just came back for my hat.”