Page 491 of Conveniently Wed
Finally, her tear-filled eyes turned toward him, and she clutched her arms over her swollen body as if to protect it. “Mr. Vine?” Her tone carried a note of surprise. She looked down and bent over.
Franklin dropped the reins and lunged toward her, wanting to keep her from falling. He placed his arms loosely around her. “Do you need to sit down?”What a crazy question. He glanced around and saw nowhere for her to sit. “I can put you on my horse. The saddle would be better than sitting on the ground.”
She gazed up at him for a moment before grabbing the front of his flannel shirt and burying her face in it. Wails split the air and arrowed straight through him. When he pulled her closer, she relaxed against him and sobbed as though her heart had shattered. He knew what that felt like even if he had kept the hurt inside instead of letting it out the way this woman did.
While she cried, Franklin rubbed her back and murmured softly to her. He didn’t know where the words came from, or exactly what he said. He felt a thump near his belt. For amoment, he thought she had hit him, but both fists still clutched his shirt. Realization rushed over him.The baby. Something he’d never feel from his own wife and child. That thought brought a hitch to his heart. This was probably the one time he’d ever feel movement from a child in the womb. The wonder of it almost stole his breath.
Mrs. Sullivan shook with more than just the sobs. How long had the woman huddled in the snow? He pulled the edges of his jacket around her and continued holding her while she cried.
“Boss?” The sound of his foreman’s voice wrenched Franklin’s attention from the woman drawing warmth from him. “The trail is still pretty treacherous for a wagon. I came to see if there’s any need to bring it up.”
Franklin stared at Thomas, then glanced over toward the charred remains of the cabin. Pockets of flames still flared amongst the rubble. “Not much left.” He felt Mrs. Sullivan raise her head. “We need to make sure all the fire is out.”
Thomas dismounted and reached for a large roll behind his saddle. “I brought some of the blankets with me. We can fill them with snow and use them to smother the rest of the fire.”
Two more of Franklin’s ranch hands rounded the last boulder and rode across the clearing toward them.
“Get Charlie and Joseph to help you, but I need one of the blankets for Mrs. Sullivan.”
When the woman tried to step away, he gently tugged her back, and she stiffened in his arms. “Don’t want you to get sick from being too cold.” He whispered against her silky hair.
“Okay.” A hiccup followed her agreement.
Thomas untied the bundle and brought a well-worn horse blanket toward them. “This one’s softer, and it’s still warm.”
Franklin stood beside Mrs. Sullivan, protecting her from the chilled wind while he wrapped her in the heavy piece of wool.
“Thank you.” Her blue eyes held bewilderment and a hint of some deeply-buried hurt.
He touched the brim of his Stetson. “My pleasure, ma’am.”
He couldn’t help wondering what could have filled her with that pain. Surely more than this fire...or even losing her husband.
Lorinda watched the four men work to put out the final glowing embers. Her thoughts tangled. Just having other people around eased the lonely part of her that had intensified throughout the winter. No matter that they weren’t talking to her. They communicated with each other in monosyllables, understanding what the other man meant without wasting any extra words. Even though one was the boss and the rest employees, they worked as a unit. She’d never been a part of a group so completely in tune with each other.
What was going to happen to her now? As the question once more flitted through her mind, the baby became restless. This child was so sensitive to her moods.
“Mrs. Sullivan?” Mr. Vine’s voice penetrated her thoughts, scattering them in all directions.
Lorinda had to look up at him. The man was much taller than Mike had been. Taller than her father and uncle. She’d felt the strength in his wide shoulders. Enough to ease her grief, at least a little.
“Yes, Mr. Vine?” She glanced down at her red, raw hands clutching the blanket close, wishing she could hide them.
“Some decisions need to be made.” His commanding tone made her want to put up a shield.
Instead, she nodded. “I know. I’ve been trying to think.” Why did all men treat women as if they couldn’t think?
He widened his stance and crossed his arms. “I really wanted to take you off the mountain last fall. Now I wish I had.”
She raised her head and stood as tall as she could with the baby weighing her down. “It was my choice, and I made it.” She wasn’t about to let him know how many times she had regretted it over the intervening months.
“What are you planning to do now?”
“I still have plenty of provisions in the dugout.” She tilted her chin higher. Mustn’t let him think he could decide for her.
He brushed one gloved hand across his mouth before speaking. “I didn’t want to bring this up, but I’m sure the fire was intentionally set by someone.”
“I know.” She hoped he couldn’t read the fear in her face. “I saw the footprints in the snow.”
