In hindsight, he counted himself fortunate he didn’t. Trudy Dingman had never loved him. She’d only used him when she discovered herself in the family way from another man, who had disappeared. Not that she’d had the courtesy to tell Johnny about the baby she carried. When the man responsible showed up again, after Johnny and Trudy were engaged to be married, Trudy had run off with him. Johnny didn’t know why until a friend informed him of Trudy’s condition. It hurt to know he was only second best. But to know the woman he’d loved hadn’t been truthful, hadn’t trusted him, had scalded him clear through. In his opinion, without truth and trust, love could not exist.
“Ma’am, perhaps you could introduce yourself.”
“I suppose I should. Mrs. Willow Reames.”
“Sorry about your husband.”
She nodded, but her attention remained on the baby, who seemed to grow weaker by the moment. “How far is it to this ranch you told me about?”
“Sundown Ranch. We’ve about half an hour to go.” He wasn’t much for conversation, but had a few questions demanding to be asked. Mindful of the gun, he approached them carefully. “Where you coming from?”
“Wolf Hollow.”
He stared at the woman. “Wolf Hollow is three, four days ride from here. You came on your own?”
She met his look with a tipped-up chin and flashing eyes. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself and my son. Have been doing so since my husband died.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Three months.” Her gaze bored into Johnny’s.
He had no idea how to respond to her words or the silent challenge of her look. “That’s not long.”
“Long enough.”
Long enough for what? To forget the man’s death? To prepare for this trip? Neither made a speck of sense.
“Adam is getting worse. Can we go faster?”
Johnny urged the old mare into a trot, but she’d been on the road at least three days already and looked about spent. It crossed his mind to wonder how hard Mrs. Reames had pushed the animal.
“Ma’am, would you mind telling me where you’re headed?”
“Not at all. I’m on my way to Granite Creek. My sisters are due to arrive on the next train.”
“That’s tomorrow.”
“I had hoped to get there in time to find a house and get it ready for us to live in.” She made comforting noises and rocked Adam. “But first, I need to take care of my son. Shush, sweetie. Mama’s right here.” She began to croon a lullaby.
Adam opened his eyes and stared into his mama’s face with so much faith and love that Johnny’s throat tightened.
That was the look of trust.
He’d thought he’d seen that in Trudy’s eyes, but all he’d really seen were lies and deceit. His good friend Thad shared a similar experience, which, added to his sister’s death, had sent the man to a dark place in his mind.
It appeared far too many woman considered this normal behavior.
It had been a hard lesson, but one Johnny didn’t intend to repeat. He’d vowed to never again give his heart to a woman. Nope. Ranch work, his pa and stepmother, his brothers and now Tanner’s wife and kids were enough family for him.
Yet his attention went again to the little boy and that look of pure, simple faith in his mother’s ability to keep him safe.
It made Johnny determined to get them both to the ranch as quickly as possible. He flicked the reins and the horse picked up the pace. He glanced back at the wheel he’d adjusted and hoped it would hold until they reached the ranch.
He meant to do everything in his power to see the trust in that little boy’s eyes rewarded.
* * *
Willow took comfort in the weight of the pistol in her lap. She knew how to shoot, but the idea of sending a bullet into a man made her blood run cold. Though not as cold as the fear that had mounted with each passing hour since Adam had grown fussy last night. At first, she thought he was simply tired of the journey, but during the restless night, he’d developed a fever.
Her sense of triumph over leaving Wolf Hollow and its bitter memories had been replaced with worry over her son. Not that she regretted shaking the dust of that wild town off her shoes. Nor had her anticipation at seeing her sisters for the first time in a year and a half diminished.
But all that paled in comparison to getting someplace where she could tend her son.
She darted a look at the man beside her. Dark complexion, dark eyes and dark hair beneath a gray cowboy hat. Who was he and what had he been about before he noticed her predicament? Johnny Harding, he’d said. She might have heard the Harding name before but wasn’t certain. Mostly she’d kept to herself, tending Adam and trying to avoid Bertie, the man she’d been forced to marry. Forced was not exactly accurate. She’d agreed to marry him in order to ensure her younger sisters would have a home and her son would have a name. Under the agreement she’d made with Bertie’s father, in exchange she took on the responsibility of keeping Bertie on the straight and narrow. She’d soon discovered the futility of even trying.
She’d endured a steady barrage of insults from Bertie, who lamented the injustice of having to marry her in order for his father to finance his trip to the wilds of northwest Montana. Still, Willow would do the same again to help her sisters and her son.
Bertie’s death in a drunken brawl had freed her and left her with a nice bundle of gold dust that she meant to use to provide a home for her son and her sisters. She’d sent tickets to get her sisters to Granite Creek, the closest railway stop, where she meant to join them and start a new life.
This was Thursday. She’d hoped to be in Granite Creek by now, but had to travel slower than she planned as Adam grew restless and irritable. Poor baby.
The train didn’t arrive until Friday. Surely if she stopped and tended him, Adam would get better, so she could continue her journey.
She hummed a little tune to comfort the baby.
“How old is your boy?” Mr. Harding asked.
“He’s a year old.”
“I expect he’s provided you with lots of joy.”
She relaxed for the first time since this stranger had come to her aid. “He certainly has. I can hardly wait for my sisters to meet him.”
“Tell me about them.”
She recognized his attempt to ease her worry, and appreciated it. Bertie would have incited her by continually pointing out how sick Adam looked. He’d never let her forget Adam wasn’t his son, and had made it clear he had no affection for the baby.
“I haven’t seen them in over a year and a half,” she said of her sisters. “Celia will be fourteen now. She’s five years younger
