A Ransomed Heart Page 8

  How would it feel to wake up here every morning with the smell of this barn, and this milk, and Logan? To have Mama to work with and milk with, and Kit to talk with. What would it be like to be in love…in love with Logan? The song had ended and she sat, letting the idea wash over her. It was beautiful, and sweet, and impossible. She let out a long sigh and squeezed the last of the milk from Sassy’s empty udders.

  “Marvin loved that song.”

  Mama’s voice startled her back to reality.

  “Marvin was my husband; he died about three years ago,” she volunteered the information freely so Annabelle just listened.

  “Kit sang that very song at his funeral. It was a hard day for all of us.”

  Annabelle swiveled around on her stool so she could face the woman and then dried her hands on her apron.

  “How did he die?”

  Mama sighed. “Well he wasn’t in good health, but I am convinced he died of a broken heart.”

  Annabelle wasn’t sure how to respond. She didn’t want to push. The sweet woman fiddled with the hem of her apron and gave a sad nod.

  Mama stood and untied Daisy from the ring, she motioned for Annabelle to follow. Annabelle tugged the rope loose and followed after Mama.

  “We came here several years ago. Marvin had such grand plans, he wanted a large ranch and this was the place to find the land, it was much cheaper here than in the Montana territory so we loaded up our belongings and headed west. Kit is our only child and he was more than happy to take on this adventure.”

  They led the animals out into the sunshine and let them loose in the pasture. Daisy had a calf which came directly to her, but she was old enough not to nurse anymore. The women stood in the sun for a moment and warmed themselves from the chill of the barn. The birds were out and they sang to each other from the sparse Juniper trees and sagebrush which clung to the dry earth. It was going to be a beautiful day. Mama started to make her way back to the house and Annabelle followed, wondering if the story was over.

  “Anyway, things here were tough, and we struggled, a lot. Luckily for Kit he found Logan, and it seemed to ease the worry for Father, but the dying crops did little for his morale. Finally it became apparent we were not going to make it. Logan did his best, Lord knows he did, but in the end, Papa died and we lost the farm.”

  The story sounded a little too familiar and Annabelle shivered.

  “If it hadn’t had been for Logan, Kit and I would never have made it.”

  They had reached the house and entered the little kitchen. Mama poured them some coffee and both women sat down at the table. Annabelle was thinking about everything Mama had said. What was she trying to tell her, or was she trying to tell her anything? Maybe the woman was just glad to have someone to talk to. What confused her the most was why Logan had anything to do with it? Other than being a good friend to Kit, wasn’t he just another mouth for her to feed, another person for her to mend for, cook for, and clean for? It seemed as if the woman was thankful for him, but it surprised Annabelle.

  “So how did you find Logan?” It wasn’t what she wanted to ask, but it seemed less invasive than her other questions.

  “Ha, well honey, he found us.”

  Again Annabelle didn’t understand, and her face must have said so because Mama winked at her.

  “Logan is our saving grace Angel; we have all of this,” her eyes went around the room, “because of Logan.”

  Annabelle wondered if this was all a joke. Logan seemed far from the caring type, honest and trustworthy maybe, but not really a giver in her opinion.

  Mama could see the disbelief on Annabelle’s face and she knew it was time to set the girl straight on a couple of things. She had given Logan the what for and now Annabelle needed a little insight.

  “I know what you are thinking, he is a little rough around the edges, but he can’t help it. It isn’t as if he has had much guidance in his life. I guess it would be wrong to say he was the savior in this situation, I like to think Kit and I played some part in his change, but he’s doing his best with what he knows.”

  Annabelle’s brow furrowed and she held on tighter to her mug. What was Mama talking about?

  “Ya see, Logan has a past, it’s something he’ll need to tell you about in his own time, but you must know he’s not what he seems. There is a little boy in that man, and he’ll show it to you if you’ll let him.”

  Annabelle nodded her head as if she understood, but she didn’t really. Drinking some of the coffee her brow furrowed again. “What do you mean he gave you this?” She motioned around the room.

  Mama’s smile grew wide and her eyes shone with the pride she felt. “This place, Annabelle, this town of Hope, it’s Logan’s, it is the combination of his hopes and dreams.”

  Her expression was blank and Annabelle wondered if she had heard right. Mama seemed giddy as a school girl, as if she had just told the biggest of all secrets.

  “That’s right honey, all this land, this house and these animals, they all belong to Logan. He was the one who built Hope and he was the one brought every one of us here. See girl, he’s our Robin Hood.”

  She, of course, was referring to the legend of an Englishman who had taken from the rich to give to the poor, but Annabelle was having a hard time seeing it. If all of this was true, then she had truly viewed him in the wrong light, and in the very worst of ways. For a very brief moment she wondered if he had rescued her, too, but then she remembered what he had said. He was using her to get something from the rich man she would marry. Unsure of what hurt more, she looked down into her nearly empty glass. In her dreams a handsome man would take her away from her hard life, but reality was much harsher, she realized. There was no one there to save her; in fact she was the one who needed to save others. It was hard when a dream dies, but harder to know that she would live in reality forever.

  Weakly she smiled up at Mama; she didn’t want the woman to feel as if she had made her unhappy, and so she tried to come up with something to say. Finally the words tumbled out with as much emotion as she could muster, “I had no idea; he must be a very good man, indeed.”

  Mama didn’t miss much, but like a fortune teller she always knew what was coming next. Gently she reached across the table and lifted Annabelle’s eyes up to meet her own. “Don’t you worry, honey; he isn’t done savin' people yet.” The she winked her characteristic wink and took Annabelle’s cup. “Now we have a lot of work to do.”

  The morning flew by and Annabelle had little time to think of anything other than her chores. Mama never once questioned her abilities to perform any domestic task, and oftentimes let Annabelle take the lead. They made bread and a mincemeat pie for dinner. Annabelle helped gather eggs and mend some clothes, and by lunch time both woman sat down to leftover stew. Mama chatted with her like they were old friends. She told Annabelle about the other women in town and talked respectfully about their situations. Most of them were widows, only young men to help with the work. A few of them were young couples who had found their way here and settled in the town. She talked about the need for a store and how nice it would be when they were able to raise enough money for a church and school. It seemed a daunting task to Annabelle, but Mama didn’t let on she felt the same way.

  It seemed as if they had accomplished more in the morning then one person could do all day long, so they sat for while on the porch and watched people as they passed by. Soon a young woman headed in their direction. Annabelle recognized her instantly as the Indian girl at the teepee. As she approached Mama got up and stood at the end of the porch beckoning the girl to join them. Her tiny frame was heavy with child and she did her best to mount the two steps without waddling. Despite her very prominent stomach she was incredibly beautiful. Annabelle tried not to stare at her brown features and raven black hair but she was almost too stunning to look away from. She smiled sweetly at both women as she took Mama’s chair. Quickly Annabelle stood and offered her chair to Mama; she hesitated only a moment before sit
ting. Annabelle quickly took a seat on the wooden porch, her back resting against the rail post.

  “Annabelle, I would like you to meet Singing Bird, she is Little Bears wife.”

  Unsure what to say she nodded her head at the woman.

  “Singing Bird, this is Annabelle Casey; she is staying with us for a while.”

  Annabelle looked at Mama briefly and then turned back and smiled.

  Singing Bird spoke next. Her English was impeccable and her voice sounded just like a bird, Annabelle was amazed.

  “So nice to meet you, Annabelle.”

  “You, too.” Annabelle was surprised.

  “How are you feeling, baby?” Mama looked concerned at the young woman.

  “Well, I think my time is soon.”

  Mama smiled, she liked that the girl would soon be back to normal, and it was so hard on a body to carry a baby. The two women chatted for a moment about pregnancy, something Annabelle knew nothing about, and she listened, content to hear their happy voices. Someday it would be her, carrying a child, she wondered how long after her wedding she would be expecting. The idea made her blush a bit, but she looked forward to the day also. Soon the conversation moved to other things and the women enjoyed each other’s company for a while. It wasn’t until a small commotion stirred them from the exchange that they realized the men had returned to camp.

  Annabelle watched as Logan, Kit, and Little Bear came towards the home. All three women stood up and waited until they brought their horses to a halt. Little Bear’s face was at first creased with concern, but now it looked radiant with happiness. Kit had a big smile on his face and seemed happy as ever. Logan looked at Annabelle in a way which made her slightly uncomfortable.

  She quickly looked away from him and watched as Little Bear dismounted. Singing Bird brushed past her and hurried as quickly as she could to her husband’s side. Just like the time before, he tenderly touched her nose with his and then one brown hand rubbed the side of her swollen stomach. Annabelle’s heart clutched within her breast and she again felt privileged to see such an exchange. Ever so gently Little Bear lifted her up onto his pony making sure she was secure. They signaled their goodbye and everyone watched as they headed back towards their home.

  Logan dismounted. When he faced Annabelle again her eyes looked him over, as if she was seeing him in a different light. Behind him, Kit, too, got down from his mount and then pulled the antelope off the back of his horse. They had been hunting, which had given Logan plenty of time to think over his feelings for Annabelle Casey. What he figured out was he needed to either avoid her or get to know her. The latter seemed the more logical of the two but he would need to be careful, he was feeling things for her he had never felt for another person, let alone a woman. He had a little over twelve hours then she would be gone from his life; the idea bothered him more than he would like, but that was the way it was going to be. He did wonder what had happened during the day for her to look at him that way.

  It lasted only a few moments and then she turned her back on him and walked into the house. Her dress was different, a more refined style and it fit her perfectly, unlike the big dress she had on before. Her hair was tied in a simple bun on her head and she looked very much at home in the setting. If Mama was correct in her assumption, Annabelle may be very different than he had originally pegged her. He would need to find a time to talk with her; he wanted his story straight for tomorrow. Everything needed to go off without a hitch.

  Kit and Logan spent the rest of the evening prepping the game. It had been a few days since fresh meat was distributed in town and it took time to deliver it to everyone in need. He did not see Annabelle again until supper. As usual, the men changed their shirts, working around Annabelle’s things. Kit joked with Logan about how she had picked Logan’s bed instead of his own; he chalked it up to the neatness of Logan’s character. Logan brushed it off but felt a certain sense of satisfaction. There was, of course, a huge possibility she had no idea and had randomly chosen a bed, but he liked to think differently. For some reason, he felt smug as they headed to dinner.

  Again the meal was delicious, but this time Annabelle felt the pride of it being somewhat from her own hand. Mama mentioned casually it was Annabelle who had made and baked the bread. Logan’s eyebrow lifted a bit and Kit gave her all the praise she deserved. It was so easy to converse with him and he seemed happy to oblige her at all times.

  Over apple pie she studied the young man. He was very handsome, with dark features unlike his mother’s. His hair was brown and his eyes matched, but there was something very young about the way he looked. He was quick to smile and his conversation was bright and open. He was in every way the opposite of his friend. Annabelle felt Logan’s eyes on her as she conversed with Kit, and something in the way he looked at them made her smile. She got the very small impression he was jealous. What was more interesting was, he never tried to join the conversation; he only watched them, his blue eyes ever observant.

  Finally, when every crumb was consumed, Annabelle helped Mama clear off the table, but this time the men jumped to the wash basins. Mama mentioned to Annabelle that every other evening they changed chores, tonight was her night to milk the cows and the men’s night to get their hands washed. Annabelle could see the tiredness in the woman’s eyes and she offered to do all the milking. Mama wanted to argue but she didn’t, instead she handed Annabelle her wrap then sat at the table to do some mending. Annabelle caught Logan’s amused eye as she headed out the door. She was pleased she continued to surprise him.

  She had finished with Sassy, who seemed glad to have Annabelle back and ate hungrily at the extra oats she had offered. Just after Annabelle had settled down with Daisy, she heard someone come into the barn. At first she thought it was Kit, but from around the corner came Logan. He didn’t see the full bucket she had tucked behind a burlap bag, keeping the bugs out of it, and his smug look told her he figured she had been struggling with the milking. It was true that Daisy was being a bit difficult with her milk let down, but Annabelle was just trying to find her rhythm. He leaned against the stall railing and watched her.

  She concentrated on the animal and within a few minutes things were going wonderfully. Logan looked pleased and continued to watch her in silence. Annabelle decided to ignore him and she rested her forehead on the brown cow and closed her eyes. The sound of the animal chewing and the squirting of the milk was soothing, but she could not get the feeling of his eyes off of her. Finally she opened her eyes again, irritation flashing across her face.

  Logan chuckled and then smiled widely at her.

  “Looks like you got the hang of it.”

  Her eyes hardened. “Looks like it. Can I do something for you, Mr. Bailey?”

  He liked the way her voice sounded. “We need to talk. Should I get Sassy? She is kind of a handful.”

  “She is done.”

  He looked surprised. “What?”

  “If you aren’t careful you’re going to kick the bucket over.” She motioned with her head to the sack on the floor by the fence.

  He hesitated to lift the cloth, but sure enough the bucket was full of warm milk.

  “Impressive.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him but said nothing in return.

  “So you know your way around a cow, you are a decent rider, you can make bread, and you certainly did something to cheer Kit and Mama up; you pose quite a mystery to me, Miss Casey.”

  She didn’t miss how he referred to her by her last name. Her shoulders came up in a shrug and she looked down into the pail watching the milk swirl around in the bottom. The barn was silent other than the sounds of the animals bedding down for the night. Crickets could be heard outside the door and the evening light was fading quickly. She was nearly done and her hands moved quickly to beat the sunset.

  “What I am trying to say is I think I may have pegged you wrong.”

  Her eyes flitted to his face.

  “So what don’t I know?”


  “Humph. I am not the only one who has a few secrets.” Her eyes bored into his but he held her look.

  He pushed away from the fence and looked a little panicked. “What did she tell you?”

  Shrugging her shoulders again she looked at him steadily. “Nothing, other than all of this is yours and that you are some kind of hero to these people.”

  The cow was dry and Annabelle patted her on the side and moved the bucket out of the way from any stray tails or misplaced feet. Logan’s face smoothed a bit, but he seemed concerned about something. Untying the cow, she went to walk past him to return her to the inside stall with her calf. Logan’s hand shot out and caught her arm.

  “Is that what you think? Do you believe I’m a hero? Because something in your actions say otherwise.”

  “Well, kidnapping doesn’t seem very heroic to me.”

  His hand tightened on her arm.

  “I told you why I did it, I have no intention of hurting you; you should know that by now.”

  “Hurting me…no, but there are factors you don’t know about.”

  “Like what, your husband?”

  “He isn’t my husband,” she hissed. “You take an eager interest in our relationship. Do you disapprove?”

  “Do you even know the man, Annabelle?”

  Her breath caught in her throat, just exactly how much did he know?

  “How can you not see through him, see him for what he really is? How could you love such a man?”

  She tried to jerk her arm away but he held fast. What did it matter if she loved him or not, if he knew the reason she was going there in the first place he would know it had nothing to do with love. As if encouraging, the cow gave her a gentle push from behind.

  “I never said I loved him!” It came out in a rush.