remember.” He’d recognized her the instant her eyelids snapped open and he looked into coffee-brown eyes revealing fear, and lots more besides. He saw flickers of the determination and gentleness he remembered from school. How often he’d thought of her and wondered how she fared.
He hadn’t even realized she was gone at first, though he wondered that he never managed to glimpse her. ’Course, he avoided town as carefully as he avoided crossing paths with a skunk. Only necessity drove him to venture in by way of alleys.
It was Lucas, the man at the general store, who served him at the back door, who told him of the Halliday’s misfortune.
“Mr. and Mrs. Halliday were among those who died in the flu epidemic. Their daughter went to an orphanage.”
Remembering what happened to Vivian, Billy’s fists still clenched. He would have given her a home. A curl of amusement lifted one corner of his mouth. Yeah, he could see anyone agreeing to that.
Best he face the situation head-on. “I guess you know what everyone else knows. That I’m too big to be trusted and Ma is crazy.”
Vivian shifted her gaze from Ma to him. He saw the same compassion tucked beneath her fear that he’d seen eight years ago and had never been able to forget. Somewhere beyond the reach of his control, long-denied yearnings tossed rebellious heads reminding him of all the things he couldn’t have—and somehow they all centered in this particular woman. He did his best to ignore the treacherous thoughts. She had always been out of reach and now even more so as a married woman. He had only one concern—keeping her safe until she could get back to her home.
As if aware no one watched her, Ma bolted to her feet and made a break for the door.
Billy didn’t need to hurry to beat her to it. He leaned against the wooden barrier and crossed his arms over his chest. It about killed him to see her this way. What people didn’t know was she didn’t act crazy all the time. Only when something upset her bad, and nothing upset her like having a stranger close by. Couldn’t get much closer than in her own house. She must be knotted up inside like an old hunk of neglected rope. He hated opposing her but he had to make sure Ma wouldn’t hurt herself.
“Let me go.” Ma’s words were breathless as if forced from forgetful lungs.
“You ain’t going into the storm.”
Ma darted a glance out of the corner of her eye, indicating the stranger in their midst. “Can’t stay here. You know what they say.”
He knew. Had heard more’n he cared to. “Crazy Indian woman.” “Unnatural giant.” Neither was true. No one, not even he, knew what Ma had suffered in captivity but she had been a good and affectionate mother since her return. And Billy didn’t figure he was that big. He’d met a couple of muleskinners even bigger.
“She’s got to stay until the storm ends. She and the little one. They’d die outside.”
Ma nodded. “I know. But I can’t stay. I can’t stay.”
He led her back to the chair. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t bother you.” He waited until his mother settled before he threw a length of wood into the iron staples on either side of the door, effectively barring it. He knew from experience Ma couldn’t lift the heavy piece out of place.
She keened like a woman bereft of her baby. The sound drove nails to Billy’s heart. It was not like he had any choice. Vivian and her baby had to stay until the storm ended. And he had to keep Ma from running out into the cold.
He faced Vivian, her brown eyes wide in what he took for fear. The hood of her cloak fell back to reveal damp brown hair in a soft roll. The cloak slipped down her shoulders. From the little he could see, it appeared she wore a plain gray dress. She must have married a man of simple means. The idea caused him to swallow hard. She deserved to wear fine things like lace and velvet.
“Ma won’t hurt you.”
With a flick of her eyelids, without uttering a word, she effectively expressed her doubt.
“Your husband will be out looking for you.” Would he have another stranger in their midst before nightfall? Ma would have a really hard time with another person stranded in her house, especially a man.
“I don’t expect so.” She shifted her eyes toward the fire, as if fascinated with the bright flames.
“But…” ’Twere none of his business, but if he had a wife and wee son he would not rest unless he was certain they were safe. Perhaps they’d argued and she wondered if her husband would let angry words keep him from action. But love quickly forgave. “He’ll want to be sure you’ve found shelter—especially with the baby so small.”
She shifted, darted a look at him. In the brief glimpse of her wide brown eyes, Billy saw something that set his mouth into a hard line. He’d seen fear. “Are you running from your husband? Afraid of him for some reason?” She need not fear a cruel man so long as Billy was around.
“No. Not at all.” Her fingers moved restlessly against her son’s blanket.
Billy wasn’t much for beating around the bush. “Then what were you doing out in the storm when you should be safe in your home?”
She dragged her gaze toward him, shifted to study Ma’s back, then back to stare at Billy.
Again he saw fear, accompanied by uncertainty. He tried to be indifferent to it. After all, she was another man’s wife. Up to that man to protect and comfort her. But he wasn’t here to provide it at the moment, and Billy took half a step toward her then caught himself. “He’ll be worried over the little one.” He held her gaze in an invisible grip, inviting the truth. Silently assuring her she was safe with him in every way.
“He doesn’t know.”
He heard the words but they made not a lick of sense. “Doesn’t know you’re out, lost in the storm ’cept for God leading me to you?”
She worked her lips back and forth. Swallowed hard. “About the baby.”
“Vivian, you ain’t making a lick of sense.” Had the cold affected her brain? “Of course your husband knows about the baby.”
“I am not married.” The whispered words seemed to escape against her will and as soon as she spoke them, she clamped her lips together. All expression disappeared from her face as if she’d wiped it away with a corner of the baby blanket. Though if he looked real hard he could see just a bit of something hurt and defensive, like the look in the eyes of the puppy he’d ripped from the hands of the man he found trying to shake it to death.
Knowing she expected some cruel word or gesture, he took care to reveal none of his shock, but, despite having lived with censure most of his twenty-two years, knowing she had a baby out of wedlock brought a sudden narrowing of his thoughts. Just as quickly, he let the criticism vanish. Everyone deserved a chance to prove himself. He’d offer this woman as much. On the heels of the realization she was unmarried came a flare of relief that he pointedly denied.
Her eyes narrowed as if she’d read something in his face—something he had meant to hide.
“He’s mine.” She splayed her hands over the baby. Her lips tightened.
Well, he never expected that. Had kind of
