31
TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 1909
The following day, Nell sought out Augusta. Relating her conversation with Hattie, she attempted to capture the exact shade of hopeless shame coloring Hattie’s eyes, her voice. “What can we do?”
Augusta sat in silence for several moments. When she finally met Nell’s eyes, she looked weary. Older. “Nothing, I’m afraid. This is clearly something Hattie must work out for herself.”
“But she hasn’t, Augusta! That’s the problem in a nutshell. For some reason, she holds herself responsible when she wasn’t the least bit so. The last thing she should feel is shame. Anger, certainly, embarrassment, perhaps, but shame? I hate this. She was forced into a situation not of her making and most emphatically not her fault.”
“You’re absolutely right: she was that man’s victim,” Augusta agreed. “But, darling, neither you nor I suffered through her experience. Therefore, we cannot say with any degree of certainty how we would feel were we in her place. Emotions don’t always conform to what is right or wrong. They aren’t tidy. You know Hattie well enough to understand she isn’t victim material. She’s spirited, strong-willed, and quick with words and emotions. She is also too intelligent not to realize somewhere inside she couldn’t possibly have prevented that monster from doing what he did. Yet, she feels ashamed anyway. Doesn’t that tell you something?” Augusta could see by the frustration on Nell’s pretty face it did not. Slowly, Augusta tried to put her own theory into words.
“I believe that, more than anything, this has to do with Hattie’s convoluted feelings for Jacob. He and Hattie have always shared a unique relationship. From the first day she came to live with us, she adored the ground he walked on. And I think her adoration made him feel ten feet tall. Yet, something happened between them that summer before Hattie left for school.”
Nell moved involuntarily, and Augusta said, “Ah, I see you know what it was. Don’t squirm, dear, I, too, know the circumstances, so I shan’t be asking you to break any confidences. But if Hattie confided in you, then you must also know the reason Jake sent her to Roger Lord’s house.”
Nell’s face burned with embarrassment. “Yes.”
“In that case, perhaps you can understand what I’m trying to say. She loves Jacob; she hates him. But never is she indifferent to him. Clearly, the mere thought of him learning about her ordeal is different than her knowledge that you, I, and Doc know. It’s untenable.”
“But—” Nell hesitated, then, feeling her way, said slowly, “Doesn’t she have to face it eventually? I mean, knowing why Jake sent her away that night and seeing them together now . . . Can you truly envision them continuing through life with the same relationship they had when Hattie was a kid?”
“No.”
“Then—?”
“She still has the right to handle any explanations she gives him in her own way and on a timetable acceptable to her. It may be easier than she believes it’s going to be, or it may be incredibly painful. Either way, nothing you or I say to her will ultimately make a difference. This involves Hattie and Jacob. Their emotions. They are the ones who have to work it out. In their own time, in their own way.”
“I don’t like it,” Nell muttered.
Augusta patted her hand. “I know, dear.” The older woman’s voice brimmed with sympathy, but the look she leveled at Nell was commanding. “And yet?”
Nell sighed. “I suppose it doesn’t amount to a hill of beans whether I like it or not. I am not the one fighting demons”—at least not ones so deep and dark—“so I also suppose I will therefore keep my opinion to myself unless Hattie asks my advice.”
“That’s my girl,” Augusta murmured, and gave Nell’s hand another gentle pat.
FRIDAY, APRIL 30, 1909
Hattie was furious with Jake. For two days in a row, Jonathan Semp had missed school.
Jonathan had changed since the first day of school. Regular meals and physical work had filled out his large, previously underfed frame, and he was now nearly as strapping as she’d suspected he would be.
She knew Jake was responsible not only for issuing Jonathan clothes that fit properly but for seeing to the ranch cook supplying the boy with lunches to bring to school. She had nothing but admiration for the attention and care Jake had subtly bestowed upon the neglected teen. Jonathan’s size and his new confidence prevented him from becoming the butt of the other students’ jokes, and he had even forged a few friendships among the farm and ranch boys.
But Jake had agreed with Hattie that schooling must come first, and now he was reneging.
That evening, Hattie arrived at the ranch seething. Arrangements had been made some time ago for her, Nell, and Aunt Augusta to spend the weekend at the Murdock spread. It was one of the ranch’s many overworked periods, so Jake was too busy to come into town. The women planned to ready the gardens around the house for planting.
Their visit was also designed to give Nell a glimpse at life on a working ranch, Hattie the opportunity to ride to her heart’s content, and Augusta some time with her son when he could snatch ten minutes here or grab a cup of coffee between chores there. Hattie had been looking forward to the visit for weeks, as there was nowhere else she’d rather be. Her anger over Jake’s cavalier disregard of their agreement, however, chafed the edges of her anticipation.
Jake was occupied when they arrived. It wasn’t until supper was concluding that he finally joined them in the elegant dining room. He strode in still attired in his dusty work clothes, but freshly scrubbed and hair combed.
“Ladies.” He grinned hospitably as he dropped into a chair and saluted them with a finger to his forehead. “I apologize for not being here to greet you when you arrived.”
Hattie was ready to erupt by then, but she was proud of controlling her temper and taking part in the conversation during coffee and dessert. As they were leaving the dining room, however, she waylaid Jake. “I’d like to speak to you,” she said with cool crispness.
“I’m all ears.” He grinned down at her attentively but sobered quickly when she returned his smile with hostile silence.
“In your office,” she said flatly.
Scratching his temple, he gave her a puzzled look. Then the look so promptly smoothed into something she couldn’t read, she could only conclude she had imagined the bafflement. He indicated that she should precede him down the hall.
If she didn’t know better, Hattie would almost swear Jake was staring at her hips as she marched before him. Her skin temperature ratcheted up a couple of degrees. Waving the thought aside as bonehead mad, Hattie whirled to face him when the door closed behind them. He regarded her through narrowed eyes as he lounged back against the rich wood panels of the door. He looked so free and easy, while she . . .
Well, she badly wanted to smack him. “You went back on our deal.”
“What deal?”
“You assured me Jonathan’s schoolwork would always come first,” she replied through clenched teeth. “Yet you have kept him out of school for two days!”
“What?” His amusement vanished, and jerking upright, he pushed away from the door. “Wait here.” He strode from the room with Hattie on his heels. Striding straight out the front door and onto the porch, he hailed a passing cowhand. “Tell Semp to present himself in my office. Pronto!”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Jake turned and noticed Hattie had followed him. “I told you to wait.”
“Oh, you actually thought I was paying attention to your snapped orders?” She gave that absurdity the snort it deserved, then shrugged. “I’m not your lackey, Jake Murdock.”
“Go wait in my office!” he commanded in a tone she seldom heard, and she whirled on her heel and stalked back to the office. Burrowed into the corner of the leather couch moments later, her arms crossed militantly over her breasts, she watched him through narrowed eyes as he took his seat behind the desk.
Jake returned her look calmly. Without taking his eyes off her, he picked up a pencil and tapped its eraser end on the desktop. Sliding his fingers down its length, he lifted the pencil off the desk until gravity flipped it over and the lead point touched the smooth surface. Slid his fingers down its length again and kept repeating the motions with hypnotic regularity. All the while watching her.
There was a tap on the door and Jake bid the caller to enter. Jonathan Semp stepped into the room. “You wanted to see me, Jake?”
“I thought you told me you had Miss Taylor’s permission to miss school.”
“Yeah. Uh . . .” A movement in his peripheral vision caught Jonathan’s eye and he turned his head. Heat burned up his neck when he saw his teacher sitting on the couch, tapping her foot and staring at him. “Uh . . . hi, Miss Taylor.” He swallowed hard. Oh boy. He was in for it now. He rushed to explain. “Jake needs my help, Miss Taylor. Y’see, it’s calvin’ season and—”
“You want to keep working for me, boy?” Jake interrupted coldly.
It was hard to swallow past the sudden constriction in his throat. “Yes, sir.”
“Then I would advise you not to lie. I told you when you started here school comes first, and I meant it.”
“Yes, sir.” Jonathan turned to Hattie. “I’m sorry, Miss Taylor.”
“I want that in writing, Jonathan. One hundred times. You will write ‘I will not miss school and I will not lie.’ Have it on my desk first thing Monday morning. Understand?”
“Yes’m.”
Jake opened a desk drawer and pulled out several sheets of paper. He extended them to Jonathan and handed him a pencil. “Get started.”
Face burning, Jonathan accepted the supplies and backed out of the room, leaving silence in his wake. Hattie had built up a full head of steam, and discovering she’d wrongly accused Jake only made her angrier. Ungraciously, she muttered, “I apologize for my erroneous assumption,” and stood up, nose elevated. “I promised Aunt Augusta I would play a few pieces on the piano. I better join her and Nell in the parlor.”
Jake stood also. “That’s it?”
“What’s it?”
“I’m sorry for my erroneous assumption?” His mimicry of her sullen tone was right on target, and Hattie’s cheeks burned. “That’s it?”
“I’ll write it out a hundred times.”
He was around the desk in a flash. Towering over her, he gripped her elbows and drew her onto her toes until they were standing eyeball to eyeball. “Don’t get cute with me or I’ll—”
“What?” Hattie wrenched free and backed up. Hopefully only she knew her heart was pounding to beat the band. “You’ll do what, Jacob? Smack my butt so hard I’ll be eating off the sideboard for a week?” It was a threat he’d used several times when she got out of line as a kid.
His whole body jerked and his eyes darkened, the lids appearing suddenly weighted. “Is that what you’d like, Hattie?” he whispered hoarsely. “My hand on your bare butt?” He reached out and ran his hand over her hip, sliding it around to follow the curve of her buttock.
Suddenly sinking his fingers into the resilient fullness beneath his hand, he pulled her forward until less than an inch separated them. He leaned over her, his face suddenly so close she felt his breath on her lips. “Because I’d be more than happy to oblige you, Big-eyes, if that’s what you’re angling for.”
“Get your hands off me.” Hattie placed hers on his chest and shoved him away. Ignoring the wretchedly persistent, tickly feeling between her legs, she clenched her fists and stated coolly, “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: I am sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusion. If you don’t like my tone of voice, I’m sorry for that, too. But don’t go thinking that entitles you to take liberties with me, Jacob Murdock. It doesn’t. Not with me or any other woman.” She whirled away in a red-hot fury and, reaching for the doorknob, wrenched the portal open. She stormed out, then slammed the office door closed behind her.
A few moments later, Jake heard her taking out her temper on the exterior door as well.