Wandering to the back door, she poked her head outside to check on Jack. When a quick glance at the yard failed to turn up her son, she felt an invisible hand clutch at her chest and squeeze gently. Surely he was there somewhere. Surely. She would not panic. She most definitely would not panic. Repeating the mantra to herself, she stepped out onto the porch for a better view. He wasn’t there. HE WASN’T THERE. Dread rising within her despite her best intentions, she had opened her mouth to call his name – to SCREAM his name – when she saw him. Or rather, part of him. Two small feet attached to two small legs clad in new blue dungarees could just be seen sticking out from beneath the bushes that ran alongside the house. Holding her hand to her mouth to suppress the gasp of joy and relief that wanted to release itself in the form of a giggle, Jennifer moved to the top step and allowed the grin to surface. Her son, his ubiquitous train set at his side, had carved an elaborate roadway in the dirt and leaves at the side of the building. Jack was so intent on his game that he had no idea he was being watched.
“Jack? Don’t go far now.” Considering how awash with anxiety she’d been just moments before, Jennifer was impressed at how calm and relaxed she sounded.
A dirt-streaked face pushed its way through the tangle of leaves to regard Jennifer disdainfully. “Aw Mama, you told me that ALREADY.” When Jennifer simply smiled, he beamed back at her. “I know, Mama. ‘If it’s good advice, it can be taken twice’,” he recited in the tones of someone who has heard the phrase often in his young life. He gestured excitedly to the bushes. “Look, this is the forest, just like in Hansel and Gretel!”
“Exactly like it,” Jen agreed. “Have fun, Jack.” But her son was already re-immersed in his play.
Returning to the kitchen, Jennifer sat at the table for a moment, but her gaze kept being drawn to the drying dishes. Tin soldier lines of glasses sat waiting for her touch; the small stack of plates watched her leisurely behavior in seeming dismay. With a sigh Jen rose, took up the tea towel and got to work. Her friend Janie might have considered it neurotic, but Jennifer just couldn’t abide an untidy kitchen!
Letting her attention wander to the view of the plains through the kitchen window, Jennifer absently picked up a glass. Guiltily, she realized that she hadn’t thought of Janie in months, though they’d promised to keep in touch. Letters had been frequent at first, as Jennifer found herself roaming through New York State with Jack in tow, desperately trying to find a place to call home. Janie had been her lifeline, an acknowledgement that there was someone out there that cared how she and Jack were doing. But the letters on both sides had slowly dwindled, then stopped altogether. A sad state of affairs, she reflected soberly. To make ONE friend in six years and then have that friend drift out of your life like passing sagebrush, and so insidiously that you didn’t even realize it had happened.
That would stop, Jennifer thought resolutely. As soon as she was done with the dishes, she would write Janie and bring her up to date. On everything. Lord knows there was a lot to tell. Maybe they could even get together again. Who knew? Her plans were too vague at this point to make any guarantees, but…
Lost in thought, Jennifer jumped back in surprise at the knock on the door, almost losing her grip on the goblet in her hand. Mr. Jenkins already! She glanced distastefully at the dishes still left undried on the countertop. She’d been daydreaming about the past instead of doing the work that needed to be done. THAT never used to happen. Well, there was nothing to be done for it now.
“It’s open, Mr. Jenkins,” she called out.
“Well, I’m not Mr. Jenkins but I hope it’s open for me too,” the answering voice called back pleasantly.
“Rachel.”
“I hope you don’t mind me stoppin’ by so early,” the schoolteacher greeted Jennifer warmly. “I just wanted to make sure you were doin’ all right, and see if you needed any—” Rachel’s chatter stopped abruptly as she took in the towel in Jen’s hand and the dishes on the counter, and a frown crossed her pretty features. “Now Jenny, you shouldn’t be doin’ that!” she scolded, plucking the towel from Jen’s startled grasp. Deftly maneuvering the younger woman into a chair, she easily removed the glass from Jennifer’s other hand. “You just sit there and rest. I can take care of these dishes!”
“I can’t ask you to do that, Rachel.”
“Don’t be silly. You didn’t ask. I volunteered. Besides, Doc Barnes would have my hide if he knew I’d let you strain yourself any. Not to mention your father! You got to be real careful till though ribs heal.”
Jennifer let herself fall back into the seat with a sigh. In truth, her side was hurting more than she wanted to admit, and Rachel’s help was appreciated. She regarded the attractive woman thoughtfully, sincerely astounded that her father was courting the lovely schoolteacher. Her parents had been separated most of her life, so she knew that protectiveness of her mother’s memory didn’t cloud her perceptions. She just found it… odd. The Rachel that she remembered from six years past had harbored no romantic feelings toward William Tompkins, of that she was sure.
Propping her elbows on the table and resting her chin in her hands, Jennifer ventured the question that had been disturbing her since she’d noticed their closeness. “Rachel, how did you… I mean, my father and you… well… I mean, I didn’t even think you LIKED him!”
Rachel’s giggle filled the kitchen, making her sound ten years younger. “Oh I didn’t. But things change. People change. He took in a little boy, did you know that?” At Jennifer’s frown, her tone softened. “Of course you didn’t. I’m sorry, Jennifer. There’s so much catching up to do, on both sides. Well, we have lots of time for that now!”
“Who was the boy?”
“Edgar Reynolds. His mother died when he was born, and then he lost his father in a cave-in at the Erskine mine. Ten years old. Flaming red hair, big green eyes, just the cutest little boy you could ever lay eyes on.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Jennifer smiled.
“Second cutest then,” Rachel amended with an answering grin. “But what a hellion in the classroom! I swear, I’ve never had so many pranks pulled on me in one week as I did with that Edgar. Nothing will shock me anymore! Needless to say, I ended up spending a LOT of time with your father, discussing little Edgar’s… uh… shall we say, ‘high spirits’. Eventually I came to realize that underneath all that bluster and blarney there was a real man. Then I made it my job to eliminate the bluster!”
Jennifer rolled her eyes. “You’ve still got some work to do.”
Rachel’s smile never faltered. “Oh Jenny, getting there is half the fun!” she replied happily before placing the final glass in the cupboard. “There, that’s done.”
“Thank you, Rachel,” Jennifer said sincerely. “I hope I haven’t made you late for school.”
“I’ve still got plenty of time,” Rachel answered, “but that reminds me. When are you goin’ to put Jack in school?” When Jennifer only shrugged guiltily, Rachel continued, “I know you just got home yesterday and a heck of a lot has happened since then, but I really think it would be best for Jack to get back into a routine. And he’d get to make some new friends, and—”
“The thing is, Rachel,” interrupted Jen, “I don’t think we’ll be staying on here.”
Rachel’s face fell. Dropping the tea towel unheeded by the sink, she took a place opposite Jennifer at the small table. “Oh Jen, don’t say that. You just got here. Why don’t you take some time and—”
“Things aren’t like I’d thought they’d be.”
“Things rarely are,” Rachel agreed. “Look, if this is about your father, I’ll talk to him. He was upset yesterday. He just got you back and then almost lost you again. Give him time, Jen. He’s truly changed.”
“It’s not my father,” Jennifer replied. “At least, it’s not ALL my father. It’s…” She didn’t want to say it. Thinking it was hard; saying it would make her heart break all over again.
“It’s Buck,” Rachel said it for her.
Hands twisting in agitation, Jennifer nodded sadly. “I just can’t… I spent five years taking care of my son on my own. I struggled and saved to try to give him the best I could. And to find… him… alive and just happily goin’ on his way with never a care in the world—”
“Now that’s not fair.” This time it was Rachel’s turn to interrupt. “No matter what you think, Buck looked for you. He did everything he could to try to find you.”
“But he didn’t find me! And while I’m struggling to take care of his son—”
“That he didn’t know he had,” Rachel finished smoothly. “Jen, you can’t go on blamin’ Buck for somethin’ he had no control over.” Taking Jennifer’s hands in her own, Rachel’s voice lowered. “The two of you loved each other once. I know something about that. I was married; I was going to have a baby. Then my husband, my dear sweet Henry, was killed. Murdered. And I lost the baby.”
“I didn’t know, Rachel. I’m so sorry,” Jennifer said softly.
Rachel patted her hand reassuringly. “I thought the grieving would never stop. The pain was so unbearable that I did… well, I did some things that I regret. And I did a lot of blaming too. Blamed Henry for not having his gun handy, and for lettin’ Thad get the drop on him. Blamed myself for ever gettin’ involved with Thad Browning in the first place. Took a long time to let go of all that guilt and all that blame.”
Her grip tightened on Jennifer’s hand. “You got a chance most people don’t get. Don’t throw it away because of some real or imagined hurt from the past. Grasp it!”
“I’m scared,” Jennifer admitted softly. “I don’t want… It took so long for the hurt to go away, Rachel. I don’t want it to come back.”
She sounded so lost and alone, not the independent and capable single mother of a five year old. That shouldn’t be surprising, Rachel mused. Jennifer was barely a child herself when she brought Jack into the world. Impulsively, Rachel leaned forward across the table and drew Jennifer into an embrace. The younger woman stiffened at the touch for a moment before her arms came up to encircle Rachel’s waist awkwardly. How long had it been since Jennifer had been held and comforted, Rachel wondered. Since… since Jack was conceived? She was forced to admit it was a likely possibility.
“You just got to take that first leap of faith,” she murmured. “Maybe the first step should be telling Buck that he’s a father?” she suggested hopefully.
Feeling the nod against her shoulder, she continued, “And can I count on seeing Jack in my classroom sometime soon? You need some time to come to a final decision about staying, after all. Agreed?”
Jennifer pulled back from the schoolteacher self-consciously, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Agreed,” she said softly, feeling like seven kinds of weakling. Where was the tough and competent woman who’d braved the mean streets of New York? Vanished in a sniffling haze. Jennifer squared her shoulders and got herself under control, mentally reorganizing her priorities. Writing Janie would still be near the top of her list, but confronting Buck – again – would have to be done first. Perhaps she’d take Jack over to the school that afternoon. She’d then be free to ride to Buck’s ranch and tell him the truth. Yes. Better to get it over with sooner rather than later. She had never been one to put off the inevitable, and couldn’t quite figure out why she’d been trying to start that now.
“Good,” Rachel was saying. She stood and swept her hands briskly along her skirt, smoothing out any wrinkles. “Now I DO need to get going. I’ll stop by at lunch to make sure you’re doin’ all right. And if you need anything – ANYTHING – you send Jack to the schoolhouse to find me. You know where it is?”
Nodding, Jennifer smiled. “I’ll be fine, Rachel. And… thank you.”
Any response Rachel would have made was made inaudible by a sharp knock at the front door. “Mr. Jenkins,” the two women said in unison, then shared a grin.
“What’s he comin’ here for, anyway?” Rachel asked curiously as they walked through the sitting room.
“The pump’s leaking,” Jen explained. “Half the kitchen was flooded with water this morning. I got up to find that my father had sat Jack on top of the counter, certain that he’d catch his death of cold if his feet so much as touched the floor. There was talk of moving all of us to the hotel till the problem was fixed.” At Rachel’s incredulous statement, she added dryly, “He over-reacted.”
“You think?” Rachel asked with a laugh. William Tompkins did not often part with cold cash willingly. Still smiling, she pulled open the door. “Mr. Jenkins, I hear you’re just in time!” she said in greeting, then stopped abruptly. Behind her, she heard Jennifer’s whisper of surprise.
"Buck."
