The Cowboy's Baby Bond. Linda Ford

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      She lowered her cheek to his forehead. “No fever. He’s just getting restless.” She poured a little water into a cup and held it for Adam to drink, then turned and placed him in the area she’d prepared for him. There was room enough for him to stand or sit or move around a bit, yet he was safe from falling out. He stood and bounced up and down.

      “Man, man.” He grinned at Johnny.

      Johnny grinned back. “He’s a friendly little guy.” The words weren’t even out when he recalled what she’d said about Adam not going to others...especially his father. How odd. Johnny wanted to ask about that, but feared he’d be intruding on her grief. “We’ll stop soon and have dinner.” Normally, when he or his brothers were out doing something, they didn’t stop at noon, satisfied with grabbing jerky or biscuits from their saddlebags. But he guessed a woman and a child might need a little more care.

      Up ahead, some leafy cottonwoods beckoned and a stream flowed nearby. “There’s a good spot.” He turned the wagon aside and pulled into the shade. He helped Willow from the wagon, then lifted Adam to the ground, where the little guy toddled about.

      “He’s glad to be down where he can move around,” Willow said.

      Johnny would have enjoyed watching Adam explore, but he had to tend to the horses, and took them both to water, then left them to graze.

      By the time he returned, Willow had spread a quilt and brought out a loaf of bread and some cheese from the supplies he’d purchased.

      “I will pay for our share of the food,” she murmured, not meeting his gaze. “You don’t need to be taking care of us.”

      “We’ll see.” He had no wish to argue over petty things.

      “You’re trying to avoid an argument.”

      He shrugged. “What’s wrong with that?”

      They studied each other. He couldn’t say what she saw, apart from a half-breed man with dark skin. Did she see the guardedness that he wore about him like armor? Did she see his determination to never again open his heart to any woman?

      On his part, he saw a woman with flyaway brown hair that had again escaped every hairpin and hung about her shoulders. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask why she wasted time trying to control it, but then he thought better. Much too personal for two reluctant traveling companions. He saw—or did he sense?—a guardedness that matched his own. He wondered at the cause. Though perhaps he knew. She’d lost parents and a husband. That seemed enough to make a person build walls around her heart.

      A smile brightened her eyes even before it reached her lips. “Avoiding an argument seems a good thing to me.”

      He grinned. “Me, too. Do you want me to ask a blessing on the food?”

      She blinked.

      He guessed she hadn’t thought of grace.

      “That would be nice.” She held her son’s little hands as she bowed her head.

      Adam gave Johnny a wide-eyed, curious look.

      Johnny closed his eyes and prayed, keeping it short and simple, though he added a request for safe and successful travels.

      They ate the plain meal. He wished they had time to make coffee, but there seemed no point in starting a fire. As Willow gathered the dinner things together to wash with water from the stream, the little boy tackled Johnny, making him chuckle.

      He caught Adam and swung him into the air, earning a rolling belly laugh.

      Willow stared at them, a tight look on her face.

      Johnny lowered Adam to the ground. “Will I hurt him, doing that?”

      She shook her head. “He loves it.”

      “Then what did I do to make you look at me that way?” Adam clung to his leg, getting a free ride as Johnny moved closer to Willow, wanting to read her eyes for a clue as to what worried her.

      She returned the dishes to the wagon, seeming to use it as an excuse to avoid looking at him again. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Can we resume our travels?”

      “I’ll get the horses.” He brought them back, hitched up the mare and tied Gray to the rear. Willow already sat on the bench, Adam perched on her knees. There was nothing to do but climb up beside her.

      They returned to the road and continued their journey, but the silence between them that had earlier been comfortable now crackled with tension.

      “Willow—”

      “Adam is ready for a nap.” She laid him on a quilt in the back and he fell asleep sucking two fingers.

      Johnny had no intention of spending the rest of the day with this strain between them. “Willow, I know I did something, or said something, that upset you. I’d apologize but I don’t know what I did. I think it fair that you explain it to me.”

      * * *

      Willow’s thoughts twisted and turned. Was there anything more hurtful than seeing a man like Johnny play with Adam? If only she could dream of someone like him. Her chest muscles clenched with a thousand painful regrets.

      “It’s nothing you did. Not really.”

      “There is no one else here to blame for the way you looked at me.”

      There’s me. But she wouldn’t tell him that, nor what she meant by the words. She would carry the blame the rest of her life. If only for her own sake, she wouldn’t care so much, but her mistakes would hurt Adam and perhaps her sisters. At least her marriage to Bertie had given Adam a name, though she wished it wasn’t Reames, one that carried too many regrets.

      Johnny continued to gaze at her, his dark eyes full of hurt and compassion. An odd mixture. Was it hurt on his own behalf and compassion for the hurt he might see in her?

      The thought compelled her to say more. “It’s just that seeing you play with Adam makes me realize all the things I can’t give him.”

      “I don’t understand.”

      Of course he didn’t, because she hadn’t explained it, nor did she plan to. “He will never know a father’s love.”

      Johnny’s eyes narrowed. “You are a fine-looking woman. There will be lots of suitors, I’m sure.”

      “Thanks.” She clasped her hands together to keep from tidying her hair. “But I will never remarry.” To do so meant telling the whole truth about her marriage to Bertie. It was too great a risk. How could she be certain a man wouldn’t look at Adam differently if he knew the facts? Bertie had despised the baby because of the circumstances of his birth. He’d had plenty of mocking, ugly words to describe her beautiful son.

      His comments to Willow had been cruel, as well. He’d accused her of being a loose woman, and every time she went out, he’d asked if she’d had a rendezvous with a lover. No, she would not subject either of them to such a life. “I will never marry again.” She hadn’t meant to say the words aloud nor quite so vehemently.

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