Dakota Child. Linda Ford
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and handed him to Vivian.
Something cold and itchy washed down her back as she cuddled the sleeping bundle, and edged to a wooden kitchen chair and sat so she could see the pair. It looked to be a long, fright-filled night ahead.
Billy pulled a big Bible from the mantel and opened it. In slow, measured tones he read the Twenty-third Psalm.
Mrs. Black rocked, never once taking her eyes from his face, her expression desperate as if clinging to her last shred of sanity by focusing on Billy’s voice, or perhaps the words of scripture.
It was not a comforting thought.
Billy finished and replaced the Bible on the shelf.
“I like that psalm,” Mrs. Black said.
“It’s a good one, for sure.” Billy threw more wood on the fire and glanced toward the stove where Vivian sat.
She knew he wanted to stoke the fire, sensed he hesitated to move for fear of bringing an end to his mother’s calm. Vivian didn’t offer to help, nor move to do so for the same reason. She tried to stifle a yawn. The long day and the time spent afraid and freezing in the storm had sapped her energy. Her head drooped. She snapped to attention. There’d be no sleep tonight.
“Ma, why don’t you go to bed?”
Mrs. Black scrubbed at her hair, tangling it even worse. “I can’t sleep with—” She tilted her head toward Vivian.
The way it made Vivian feel unwelcome was as familiar as it was despised. She pulled Joshua closer. She’d give him what she’d lost—a home. A place of belonging and acceptance.
She tried to picture the house where they would live but having never been inside as far as she could remember, she had to make up the details. However, she could picture the face of Joshua’s father and she recalled every word he’d spoken to her. She should have taken them with a grain of caution but despite her many regrets at her foolishness, Joshua wasn’t one of them. My precious baby.
As soon as the storm ended, she would head to town and her plan.
Billy’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Ma, you go to your bed and I’ll make sure you’re safe.” Mother and son regarded each other for a long, tense moment, then Mrs. Black nodded.
“I’ll not sleep.”
“Nor I,” Billy said.
Vivian silently echoed the words. Little Joshua was the only one inclined to sleep in this household tonight.
Mrs. Black disappeared into a doorway next to the pantry. She firmly closed the door even though they all knew it would also shut out the heat.
“You’re welcome to take my bed,” Billy said.
Vivian shook her head hard. “Thanks, but I’ll just wait for the storm to end.” She again tried to count her blessings—safety, a chance to start over and the determination to work hard to achieve her goal.
Her head drooped again. She jerked upright. What if she dropped Joshua?
“Best move closer to the fire,” Billy said. “The kitchen stove is getting cold.”
Her feet grew icy and her arm ached from holding the baby. She studied the warm glow of the fire and considered what it meant to move closer.
Billy sighed, lumbered out of the big chair and pushed it several feet from the rocker. “That make you feel safer?”
Heat raced up her neck and settled in her cheeks as if she stood too close to the flames. She’d been rude. She normally didn’t shun anyone, but his size, his mother’s mental state…Well, who could blame her for her anxiety?
She crossed the room and settled in the chair, shifting Joshua to her chest to ease the strain on her arm, then faced Billy squarely. “I didn’t mean anything.”
His eyes were flashes of blue ice. His gaze looked through her, past her as if she wasn’t there. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, nor a welcome one. She was done with being invisible, though perhaps this was not a wise time to inform the world, especially when the world consisted solely of Big Billy Black and his mad mother.
Suddenly, his look connected with hers so intently surprise raced through her. Then he gave an unexpectedly gentle smile.
She floundered for a solid thought.
“Know you didn’t mean anything.”
Her eyes widened of their own accord. She seemed unable to break from his look that went past her fear and through her emptiness to a spot deep inside that warmed and quivered like flower petals opening to the sun. When was the last time someone looked at her so, as if she mattered solely because she was a person? Not, she knew, since her parents died. Oh, sure, there’d been exceptions—Marie and Joshua’s father—but they were few and far between and in the latter case, short-lived. But why it should be Billy resurrecting that feeling of being valued made no sense. Any more than his soft assurances that he knew she meant no harm by her statement. “How could you know that?”
His smile deepened. His gaze warmed even more. “Because I remember you in school.” He paused, and shifted his gaze to the fire and then back to her.
She saw something new in his eyes—was it longing? She couldn’t say for certain, but the look brought a flood of sadness to her heart.
He nodded slightly. “I remember your kindness.”
“My kindness?” She managed to stammer out the words. “I don’t remember doing anything.”
“I know.” His words were soft, like a whispered benediction. “Your kindness comes natural. It’s a part of you.”
“It is?” Her mouth rounded with disbelief. No one ever said anything so approving before and it made her feel—She struggled to identify this sensation of…of being really seen. Valued. And from a source she least expected. “What did I do?”
“You offered me a cookie.”
“I did?” She had no memory of the event. “Did you take it?”
He chuckled, a deep-throated rumble resounding in his chest and bringing a smile to her lips. “I have never been one to refuse food.”
She laughed. “Maybe I knew it even back then.”
“You were the only one who was nice to me. You didn’t seem afraid of my size.”
They studied each other. She didn’t know what his watchful gaze wanted. What she saw was a big, kind man trying his best to hide his hurt at being treated poorly. He wore a faded blue shirt that brought out the color in his eyes. His fawn-colored trousers were sprinkled with cat hair in variegated colors. He wore heavy socks knit in raw wool and lounged in the chair as if life held nothing but joy for him.
She knew otherwise. And she knew more. This man would never harm her. In fact, she would trust him to protect her if the need arose. The thought comforted. “I’m not afraid of you.”
Hope raced across his expression and disappeared so quickly she almost missed it.
Satisfaction smoothed away her tension. She’d brought a bit of well-deserved well-being to this man.
He stared into the flames, the reflection of the fire’s glow softening his face.
She remembered how she’d sheltered against his shoulder as he carried her from the storm. It reinforced her feeling he was the sort of man one could count on. If not for his ma, this would be a safe and sheltering place. She stopped her thoughts right there and stared into the flames. She was letting the warmth of the fire and the isolating roar of the wind divert her thoughts from her goal. She must find Joshua’s father. Together, they would build a happy home even though she didn’t know if she felt anything toward the man except regret at what they’d done, and gratitude for her son.
She stole a glance out of the corner of her eye, saw that Billy