Carolyn Davidson – Redemption (страница 6)

“Well, you find me a woman who’ll open my windows and keep my house clean and I’ll hire her.” That should shut the pompous fool up, Jake decided.

“And how long will that last? Until you decide it’s too much effort to be pleasant to another human being?”

“Some days that’s more trouble than it’s worth,” Jake muttered.

Cord leaned against the sink board. “I heard you had a visitor the other day. It seems a couple of the ladies saw the schoolteacher force her way into your house. It was all the talk at the general store. She caused quite a flurry, it seems, coming to visit you.” Cord grinned. “That bit of information has brought the gossips a new bone to chew on, and they’re settling down for a real meal, at her expense.”

Jake bristled at the thought of the meddling female who’d invaded his home, thus causing the old hens to peddle their stories about her behavior, and in turn about him.

Cord grinned. “Then your boy spread it around that he’d managed to show the woman how to pound nails in the boards that are currently covering the schoolhouse windows.”

“Jason said that?” The boy certainly hadn’t shared that bit of information, Jake thought. He’d only come home and sullenly done the chores assigned to him over the past days, earning the money to pay for panes of glass.

“Yeah, your boy said that,” Cord repeated. “But the rest of it came from a couple of passersby, I understand.” He straightened from his relaxed stance and faced Jake head-on. “Jason needs a haircut, Jake. He needs some new clothes that fit. His pants are too short and his shirts are either ripped or missing buttons. He doesn’t wear stockings half the time, and I doubt he’s washed his neck in a week.”

“He’s a boy.” The words hung between them, and Jake felt a moment of shame as his brother listed Jason’s shortcomings. And yet, they weren’t of Jason’s doing. They were items that Rena would have tended to, had she not been lying in the churchyard under six feet of dirt.

“You know, Jake, what you really need is a mother for your son.” With those words, Cord walked away, out through the back door and down the steps.

Behind him, Jake sat in his chair with a grimace of bitterness painting his features. A mother for Jason. That was about as likely as snow in August, to his way of thinking. He couldn’t even find a decent housekeeper. How the hell would he go about finding a mother for his child?

“Pa?” From the front hallway, Jason’s thin whisper reached Jake’s ears and he spun his chair around to face the boy. “What was Uncle Cord talkin’ about just now? Was he tellin’ you to find a new woman to get married to?”

“That’s not about to happen,” Jake said, dodging the query. “Who do you think would marry a man in a wheelchair? A man without any legs?”

“Mama did,” Jason answered quietly.

“Your mama was one in a million,” Jake said gruffly. “There aren’t any more women in the world like your mama.” And wasn’t that the truth. He lost himself for a moment in the memories that were stored in a part of his mind he no longer visited. Rena had been the sweetheart of his youth; and when they’d brought him back from the war without his lower limbs, she’d made it her business to crawl beneath his skin.

So well had she accomplished the task she’d set for herself, that he’d capitulated to her demands, believed her promises of forever, and married her. Now look where he was. Alone again, left to mourn.

Rena had taken ill and then succumbed to pneumonia during a week that would remain forever in his memory as the most horrendous time of his life. Pneumonia was a winter disease, and Rena had contracted it in midsummer, her stamina reduced after a cold had dragged on for three weeks.

He’d entered this house the day of her funeral determined never to leave it again. And except for a few memorable occasions, he’d kept that vow. Jason had been stuck with the most disgusting tasks imaginable, performing menial work that would have been more appropriate for a housekeeper or nurse.

Now he’d been told by two different people during a span of a few days that his son was lacking in the basic essentials of life. The love and attention of a parent and the chance to live as a child.

He rolled to the door and shut it, tempted to slam it, but leery of breaking the glass. Jason had already been responsible for repairing two windows this week; he would not add to that count. Behind him, he heard the boy’s dragging footsteps as he left the kitchen, and Jake turned the chair and followed the boy into the hallway.

“Come into the parlor, son,” he said quietly, and noted the startled look the boy shot in his direction. Had he not spoken to his boy in a decent tone of voice for so long that it would take him by surprise?

“Sit down.” Jake waved at the couch, where books lay in disarray and two dirty plates sat on the middle cushion.

Jason moved the plates and settled onto the seat, and Jake wondered that it was such an automatic gesture on the boy’s part. Used to the clutter, he didn’t seem to notice that the house was in havoc.

“I’ll try again to get us a housekeeper,” he told his son. “I’ll send you with a note to the newspaper office and have an ad put in this week. Maybe we can find someone who’ll suit us both.”

“I don’t want some strange lady tellin’ me what to do,” Jason said stoutly. “It’d be better with just you and me here, Pa.”

“It isn’t better, though,” Jake admitted. “You need someone to take you in hand, son. Someone who can take you out and buy you clothes that fit and see to it you visit the barbershop.”

Jason leaned forward on the couch and spoke eagerly. “I can do that, Pa. I can go to the barber by myself, and I’ll go to the general store and pick out some stuff. Can we afford all that?” he asked, almost as an afterthought.

Jake nodded. He’d been living without dipping into his savings, Cord depositing a quarterly amount from the family ranch into Jake’s account at the bank. The house was paid for, thanks to Rena’s thrifty nature, and food for the two males in the household was the largest expense he had.

“We can afford whatever you need, son,” he said, wishing that he’d noticed for himself the boy’s general appearance. “But I’d feel better if someone went with you.”

“Can you go?” The look in his blue eyes was hopeful as Jason focused on his father, but Jake retreated quickly.

“No. You know I don’t go out.”

“You need a haircut, too, Pa.” Jason looked at his father with eyes too old for a lad of nine. “You’re not in much better shape than me.”

“Well, the difference is that you have to be out in public and I don’t,” Jake told him firmly. Then he heard the distinct rap of knuckles on the front door.

“Somebody’s here,” Jason said, rising quickly from his seat to head for the hallway.

“Wait,” Jake told him, calling him back with a single word. “Let me see who it is first.”

“You can’t see any better than me,” Jason told him, standing to one side to peer through one of the long panes of glass that trimmed the door on either side. Glass that was dirty, with cobwebs hanging from the upper corners, Jake noted.

“It’s Miss Merriweather,” Jason said, his eyes seeming to darken even as his face paled in the light from the narrow windows.

“What have you done now?” his father asked, and knew an unexpected moment of pleasure at the thought of once more fencing with the woman.

“Nuthin’,” Jason answered sullenly. “Why do you always think I’ve been bad?”

“Bad?” Jake repeated. That his son should use that word in connection with his own behavior was telling. “I’m sorry,” he said, meaning the apology from the depths of his heart. “Open the door, Jason. Let’s see what Miss Merriweather wants with us.”

A NARROW FACE PEERED at her from behind the dirty windowpane, and Alicia caught her breath at the apprehension displayed on the boy’s features. Fixing a smile on her face, she waited for the door to open.

“Ma’am?” Jason watched her warily as he stepped back, allowing her entrance if she wished.

“Is your father—” At the sight of Jake McPherson behind the boy, almost lost in the shadows of the wide hallway, she halted her query and nodded a greeting.

“I’m here, Miss Merriweather.”

“I noticed the sign is still there, but I wanted to talk to both of you about something, and this seemed like the best way and time to approach the subject.”

Jake’s hand sliced the air, effectively halting her explanation, and he glared in her direction. “Get to the point, ma’am. Is there a problem?”

She spoke with haste, lest he be angry for nothing. “No, of course not.”

“I’ve found there’s no ‘of course not’ with you, Miss Merriweather. There is still something on your mind.”

“Well, in this case you’re wrong, sir,” she said, standing outside the front door, feeling the air of dislike that emanated from the man. “I simply wanted to talk to you about something.”

Jake waved a hand at her. “Well, unless it’s a topic you think the whole neighborhood needs to be privy to, you’d better come on in.” He regarded her as she hesitated. “My brother tells me you’ve already done damage to your pristine reputation with your interference in our lives. Might as well do it up brown.”