boy’s face hardened. “Is that you?” he asked, his cupid’s bow lip curling at the corner.
Joshua had grown unused to the hatred the name Wheaton evoked here. “Yes, but I’m not my father, son, and things will change now that I’m back.”
“I’m not your son. I’ll never be your son,” the boy snarled, then pivoted and ran away.
Joshua stood staring after the retreating figure, wondering what he’d said and what it was about the boy that seemed so familiar. Probably the son of a boyhood friend and that stung all the more.
“Little beast!” Helena gasped.
“The boy has his reasons,” Dodd grumbled and after shooting Joshua a sharp look, he turned and shuffled toward the station-house door.
Franklin Gowery spoke into the silence left by Dodd’s remark. “These children grow up fast and hard, my dear. In a way, they’re more dangerous than wild animals. They appear human till they turn on you.”
Joshua turned away from the sight of the fleeing boy. His gaze fell on Helena. Her eyes seemed to blaze with fire as she stared at her guardian. Perhaps he’d found a kindred spirit. “It’s hardly necessary to teach social niceties to children doomed to poverty if they manage to live into adulthood.”
Gowery shook his head. “Still a dreamer, are you? I’d have thought working in Wales would have cured your idealism.”
“I worked for a company more progressive than even the strict mining regulations Great Britain has adopted. We made a handsome profit while managing to treat the miners like human beings with hopes and dreams.”
Helena stepped toward Joshua and smiled up at him. “That sounds promising. You must tell me more of your reform ideas.”
The clatter and jingle of harnessed horses and wagons distracted him. “Ah. We don’t need a messenger after all,” he told his companions. “If you’ll both excuse me, that looks like Henry.”
Joshua moved toward the wagon hoping it was his father’s retainer. As he walked down the steps, he saw a flash of color near the side of the station and froze. There, scurrying along, her auburn hair radiant against the backdrop of white, was Abby. His Abby. Who belonged to another. Who’d married a few short months after he’d left for Germany. He wondered what she’d done with the travel money he’d sent so she could join him. Probably used it to set up a home with a man Josh despised. Sorrow for all he’d lost burned in his chest.
How would he face her?
How would he live in the same town with her and Liam Sullivan?
Abby observed her family that night as she stitched a patch on the knee of Daniel’s pants. Her oldest brother, Brendan, his expression grim, sat across the room playing dominoes with Daniel. Thomas, her younger brother, sat carving a delicate bird. Her father, Michael, watched them all like the benevolent patriarch he was.
Her eyes drifted back to Daniel. When he’d come in late for dinner, she’d known he’d been crying. He knew his father was in town. She was sure he did. He’d been so solicitous of her since coming home, despite his own pain, it made her heart ache even more.
“Daniel, it’s past your bedtime,” she said. “Come give us a kiss and run on up. I’ll be up soon to tuck you in.”
Daniel’s face went rigid. “You work too hard. You should rest. Uncle Thomas can come up, can’t you, Uncle Tom?”
“Daniel Sullivan! As if Thomas has a life of leisure!”
Thomas stood without hesitation. “No bother at all. Can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend my time with.” Thomas swung Daniel onto his shoulders, his jade-colored eyes soft with an innate kindness that was so much part of his gentle nature. Abby smiled, then let her head fall back against the rocker. She closed her eyes against a rush of tears. She couldn’t ask for better fathers for her son than her brothers.
Except for Joshua, taunted a traitorous voice inside her. Then a vision of his face drifted before her mind’s eye. At fifteen her mother had called him a golden boy. But then manhood had beckoned and his jaw squared and his shoulders broadened. His hair went from the color of corn silk to a rich tawny gold. That same golden color had spread across his chest and his playful teasing gave way to seductive glances. Friendly shoves turned into stolen kisses. Yet two things had never changed—his sky-blue eyes or her love for him.
Her father’s voice rescued Abby from her foolish trip into the past. “What did you tell Danny, Abaigeal?”
“Tell him?” Abby opened her eyes and glanced toward her father, knowing he wouldn’t let the night go by without settling his household properly.
He sat in his chair by the fire, the flames reflecting in the white that liberally threaded his once ink-black hair, a blanket draped across his left leg and what was left of his right. He had arthritis in his shoulders and his hands. It made getting around on crutches painful now, so he rarely went out anymore. But make no mistake, one look into his intelligent, deep-green eyes and it was plain nothing, but nothing, got past Michael Kane. “About Joshua’s return,” he said at last.
“Nothing. I’m glad now I never lied to him. You were right, Da. If I’d told him anything but that Joshua just hadn’t come back for us, he’d know I lied.”
Brendan spoke up, then, worry stamped on his handsome face. “I think you should leave and fast. He’s returned with a woman. Suppose they marry? Suppose they decide to take Danny? You’d not have a leg to stand on.”
She couldn’t deny the pain just the thought of Joshua married caused, but her stomach flipped sickly at the idea of losing her son.
“Is there a weddin’ in the offing?” Michael asked, rescuing Abby from the need to comment.
“I don’t want to talk about weddings,” Brendan snapped. “It’s the boy I’m thinkin’ of.”
She forced herself to think logically. “Joshua has never even acknowledged Daniel’s existence. Why would he want him now?”
“Because Danny is one hell of a boy. What man wouldn’t want to claim him?” Brendan asked, his green eyes intent and sparkling like emeralds and his black hair gleaming in the fire’s light.
“Shake your head—rocks or marbles?” Michael scoffed. “You’re not thinkin’ straight, boyo. Wheaton didn’t want his son ten years ago and he’s not going to be wantin’ the boy now. If he marries this woman he’s brought home with him, he’ll be wantin’ her and her babes.”
“Da’s right, but perhaps I shouldn’t be taking chances,” Abby said. “If we can make do till the end of the month, we’re free and clear of Harlan Wheaton and his son. I say we take our wagon, all we can pack, and head west. We could make it to Independence even in winter and work odd jobs till spring. Da could stay with Daniel during the day while we’re at work. What say? Let’s be shut of this place once and for all. We won’t be gettin’ the start we wanted, but at least we’ll be free.”
Brendan shook his head. “Lord knows I’d love to, but we need more supplies and money to get even that far. You’ve done a good job saving and putting up staples, but we aren’t ready. We can’t do it yet, Abby. But you
