Читать книгу His Secondhand Wife - Cheryl St.John - Страница 9

Chapter Two

The bearded giant was silent the entire ride to the livery, as well as while he prepared the wagon, tied his horse to the rear and ushered her up to the seat. The brim of his black felt hat shaded his face the whole while, so without deliberately staring, she still hadn’t had a good look at the man.

For several minutes Kate studied the plain pine box that held her husband before settling herself and determinedly looking ahead. She hadn’t had time to absorb all that was happening and still felt a little numb. She was sure reality would catch up with her later.

Finally, Noah Cutter climbed up beside her and took up the reins in hands sheathed by tanned leather gloves.

“How far is Copper Creek?” she asked.

“’Bout a day and a half’s ride west.”

“You mean, we’ll be traveling all night?”

“We’ll camp to rest the horses.”

She nodded and prepared herself for the journey and the new experience. Her stomach felt a little queasy now that she was going through with this. “I’ve lived my whole life in Boulder.”

He didn’t respond, so she took her last look at the city she detested, thought of all the miners’and well-to-do residents’ clothing she’d washed and ironed over the years, and said a silent good riddance.

Even if she had to do laundry for this man and his family for the rest of her years, it would be less of a burden than scraping out an existence on her own. “Tell me about your home.”

“Run several thousand head on the Rockin’ C. Good water and grazing.”

“What about the house?”

“My father built it. Two stories, a front porch. The hands eat in a separate building.”

“Do you have a family there?”

“Levi was my family.”

No wife or children? “Where will I stay?”

“Four rooms upstairs, one is mine. You can have one on the opposite end.”

“I will work for my keep, I was serious about that.”

She felt his gaze on her, as though he was sizing her up for her usefulness. She glanced toward him, but he looked away, hair and hat brim once again shading his face.

“Is the Rockin’ C where Levi grew up?”

He nodded.

“He never told me much about his family. I never knew where he was from. Does your father know about…about what happened to Levi yet?”

“My father’s dead.”

“Your mother?” she ventured.

“Mother, too. Wired Levi’s mother. She’ll be ex-pectin’ us.”

“You and Levi had different mothers?”

He nodded again.

Kate studied the countryside, weary of pulling information from the taciturn man. There was snow on the mountain peaks, but the conifers blanketing the lower regions were a dozen shades of vivid green. A craggy range blanketed in white caught her attention and she pointed. “Look how much snow is left.”

“Indian Peaks,” he replied.

They crossed a river at a shallow spot where farther down, it fed into a wide lake. “Oh, it’s so pretty. It’s turquoise.”

He squinted toward the lake she indicated without comment and guided the team up the bank.

Noah followed a rutted trail that cut around rock formations every so often.

“The rocks are so big! You can almost imagine that the shapes are animals or faces, can’t you?” Kate studied the enormous jutting stones. “Have you ever seen anything equal to them?”

He glanced at her, then away.

She straightened her skirt primly. “You’re thinking I’ve lived in Boulder all these years and never seen much of anything. It’s a shame, isn’t it? I always wanted to travel, to see all the sights and the country beyond the city. Levi was going to take me after—well, he was going to take me. Have you traveled many places?”

“Not many.”

She’d never traveled farther than the streets of the city where she was born until yesterday. “Have you been in other states?”

He nodded.

“Where? Have you seen the ocean?”

“I’ve been to Texas and back. Seen Nebraska and Kansas.”

“I’d love to see the ocean. I’ve read about it and I’ve seen paintings. I saw an exhibit once. An artist from Maine had a show and gave all the girls at the laundry a ticket to go see her work. Lovely pastel colors they were, blues and greens and lavenders. Pinks, too. It would be ever so lovely to be able to paint like that, don’t you think?”

He shrugged as though he’d never thought about it.

The sun dipped low and the air took a chill. Kate pulled on her coat and fell silent.

Eventually, Noah led the wagon toward a stand of cottonwoods that lined a streambed and brought it to a halt.

Kate studied her surroundings. “Is this where we’re spending the night?”

With a grunt, he climbed down.

She stood, her muscles stiff from the long ride on the hard seat, and he came around to help her. She studied the top of his hat, the expanse of shoulders in that coat, and accepted the gloved hand he raised. “Oh, oh my. Oh, dear.” Her feet touched the ground and her hips and back complained. “Where shall I—um?”

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the shrubs and trees along the stream.

“Oh. Thank you. I’ll be right back.”

Noah glimpsed her limping toward the stream and unharnessed the team. He’d never known a person could talk so much. Katherine had barely paused for breath since they’d left Boulder. Not that he minded. As long as she didn’t expect him to keep up one side of the conversation, she could talk herself hoarse if she chose. And she might, if today had been any indication.

He untied his gray and led all three animals to the stream to drink. Once they’d had their fill, he tethered them where they could crop grass. From his saddlebags, he took a dented coffeepot and fixins for a meal.

The young woman returned and removed her bonnet. “What can I do?”

He gestured to the pot. “Need water.”

She picked up the container. “I’ll be right back.”

He watched her leave. Of course she’d be right back—where else would she go? He found a dry limb, broke it up and, with sticks for kindling, got a fire started.

Kate returned with the pot. “Do you have a tent?”

“No.”

“Are we going to sleep out in the open, then? That will be an adventure. Once when I was small, Mama and I didn’t have a place to stay for a few weeks and we slept under a broken wagon behind the stables. It didn’t rain, but it did get cold at night. I remember looking up and seeing all the stars. I’m sure we’ll be able to see even more of the sky out here so far from buildings.”

Noah sliced salt pork into the skillet and let it sizzle before prying open a can of beans with his knife.

“Do you do everything with your gloves on? I’ve never seen anyone do that, but I’ve never known any cowboys or ranchers up close. Guess it keeps you from cutting yourself on the can, huh?”

By the time the food was done, night had fallen. Noah removed his gloves and divided the food onto two tin plates. He handed one, along with a spoon, to Katherine.

“Thank you.” She took a seat on the ground beside the fire.

Out of habit, Noah situated himself so that his hat shaded his face from the glow of the flames.

Kate kept silent long enough to eat. Finished, she picked up the empty skillet. “I’ll wash these in the stream.”

Noah handed her his empty plate and she got up and moved away.

He laid out a bedroll on either side of the fire, checked the chambers in his .45 and sat on his blankets.

“What shall I do with these?” Katherine had returned.

“Stand ’em against that log. Fire’ll dry ’em.”

Noah watched her arrange the skillet and plates with great care before settling on the other bedroll and removing her shoes. She unfolded her blanket and lay down, pulling up the wool covering.

Noah settled his hips into a dip on the hard ground and closed his eyes. Tomorrow he would have to see Estelle and deal with her.

“Did you ever see anything equal to all those stars in the sky?” Katherine asked. “It makes me feel so small lying here. Just think, somewhere in a foreign land, maybe in Spain or Egypt, people like us are looking up and seeing the same heavens at the same time. And they’re wondering about us.”

“Could be it’s daytime there,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“Well, somewhere far away it’s night,” she said, unflustered by his lack of imagination. “Do you know what the constellations are called?”

“Some of ’em.”

“What’s that one?”

“North Star, part of Big Bear, and over there’s Little Bear.”

“Imagine,” she said on a sigh. “Explorers have been finding their way across oceans guided by the same stars for all of time. All the people who ever lived, people in the Bible even, have seen the same stars.”

“Some have probably burned out.”

“Maybe.”

Didn’t she ever wear down? What had he gotten himself into?

“Thank you for coming to tell me about Levi today,” she said, her soft voice carrying across the flickering fire. “And thank you for knowing I’d need your help. I wouldn’t have wanted my baby to grow up like I did. I want better for him. Levi was going to move us somewhere nice, somewhere so that our baby could go to school and grow up with friends and neighbors around.”

Noah suspected that Katherine would never have seen Levi again, even if he hadn’t been killed.

“If you hadn’t come, I’d have been stuck in that place,” she said. “So…well, thanks.”

“Get some sleep. We move on early.”

A few minutes later her voice once again carried across the fire. “Are there any wild animals out here?”

“Maybe.”

“Are we safe?”

“The fire and our scent will hold ’em off.”

“Oh.”

Finally silence.

He spent a restless night, thinking of his brother’s body in the wagon bed, the woman across the fire and what he was going to do with her and a baby. He’d slept hard for a couple of hours, then woke with a start to check his pocket watch.

After rolling his blankets, he made a trip to the stream, watered the horses and harnessed the team. He rekindled the fire, stirred dough and baked a pan of biscuits.

Katherine woke to the smell and sat, immediately pressing a hand to the small of her back.

He regretted making her spend a night on the ground and two days on a wagon seat, but he would have her safely to his house later today.

She was strangely quiet that morning as she got herself ready. When she sat near the fire, he handed her a plate of biscuits and a cup of coffee. “You all right?”

She nodded. “Thanks.”

Without another word, she ate and drained her cup. She then took the skillet, plates and cups to the water and returned with them clean.

“Seat’s hard,” he said finally. “I can spread blankets in the back.”

She seemed to consider, and he imagined she thought of riding beside Levi’s coffin before she declined.

Instead he used the blankets to pad the seat before he helped her up.

As the morning wore on, her silence burned off like the dew, and by the time the sun was high and warm, she was chattering beside him as though she’d never stopped. She commented on the shapes of the clouds, the spring green of the leaves and plants, the snow on the peaks in the distance and the degree of warmth from the sun.

Noah was plum tuckered from the effort of keeping up with her constant stream of dialogue. But she didn’t seem to care that he rarely replied, and most of her questions were rhetorical, and so it was with supreme relief as they reached Rock Ridge that he decided she wouldn’t be difficult to have living under his roof.

His only experience with women in his adult life had been with his stepmother and the wives of nearby ranchers, none of whom had ever inspired him to take one of his own. No woman would ever want him, anyway.

“Are those your cows?” Katherine asked as they passed a herd grazing along a grassy slope.

He nodded.

“I can hardly wait to see my new home.” Excitement laced her voice and Noah tried to imagine the Rockin’ C through a stranger’s eyes. To him it had always been home.

From the top of a grassy ridge, the entire valley where the ranch buildings sprawled came into view. Trees dotted the landscape, a pond glistened in the sunlight and a long, shallow riverbed snaked along low ground.

Nestled between windbreaks of cottonwood and aspen, the house, meal kitchen and other outbuildings were the only flecks of white on the landscape.

“Oh,” she breathed in awe, and was silent for several moments.

He couldn’t help wondering what she was thinking, but as usual he didn’t have to wait long for her thoughts to tumble out. “It’s beautiful. The most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. The best I could have imagined. The house is so big. How many people live in it?”

“Two now.”

“What about your hands?”

“Bunkhouse.”

“Don’t you have other helpers?”

“Marjorie Benson, wife of one o’ the hands, comes twice a week to clean and do wash. They have a cabin a mile yonder.”

“Who cooks for the hands?”

“Fergie. Bunks with the others.”

“So you’ve been living in that big place all by yourself?”

He nodded.

“What about your stepmother? Levi’s mother, where does she live?”

“Fancy house in town.”

“Fancier than this place?”

Noah led the team closer to the house, and the closer they got, the bigger Katherine’s eyes grew.

“Inside needs some fixin’ up,” he told her. “I reckon you could do that.”

Noah stopped the team between the house and the barn. Two men came forward to unhitch the horses. A couple others stood outside the barn, watching with obvious curiosity.

Noah climbed down, then assisted Katherine. He glanced at the men, straightened and said brusquely, “Levi took a wife. This is Katherine.”

The men immediately doffed their hats and nodded politely. “Ma’am.”

Uncomfortable with being a spectacle, she merely nodded a greeting.

“Grab a couple sawhorses and bring the coffin in,” Noah ordered the men. “To the dining room. Bring somethin’ to use to pry open the lid.”

One man ducked into the barn. The one closest to the wagon held his hat against his chest. “How do, ma’am? I’m Tipper Benson. That was Lucky.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Benson.”

Noah grabbed the sack that contained her few possessions, gestured for her to follow and guided her toward the house. The front porch shaded the entire front and curlicue trim enhanced the beams and the rails. Noah opened the front door and led her into the cool, dim interior.

Kate observed her new surroundings with interest. The enormous rooms held an assortment of upholstered chairs and oak tables. She noticed a stone fireplace with a plain wood mantel and rugs on the wood floors. Noah pointed to the stairway, so she gripped the railing and preceded him. An empty plant stand stood on the landing next to a window with a view of the side yard. They reached the top and faced a long hallway with doors on either side.

“That’s mine.” Noah pointed to the first on the left, but kept moving.

He didn’t slow until he reached the door farthest from his and on the right. He gestured for her to enter the room ahead of him.

Kate stepped inside. The dark floor was polished to a shine and showed no sign of wear. A small settee and overstuffed chair—also appearing unused—sat on a large round rug beside a warming stove.

The bed was a big four-poster with a high headboard and a flower-sprigged coverlet that matched the curtains. A tall bureau sat against one wall, a wardrobe on another.

Noah glanced around and set down her bag. “Marjorie keeps it clean.”

“It’s the nicest place I’ve ever stayed,” she said with all sincerity and a touch of awe. “I’ve been in houses this nice when I delivered laundry, but I only dreamed of living in one.”

Noah Cutter was obviously a very rich man. Land and cattle and a home like this. And Levi had been his only family.

“Rest,” he said. “I’ll bring water.”

And with that he was gone.

Kate looked around the room, strolling over to peer at her windblown reflection in the mirror above the washstand. She removed her bonnet and absently tucked in stray hair.

A few minutes later he entered with a bucket and poured water into a pitcher on the washstand. Without another word, he turned and left, closing the door behind him.

After setting her bonnet down, Kate removed her coat and wandered to the window. In the yard below, she saw Noah stride toward the barn.

What a strange man.

What a strange predicament.

Removing the clothing she’d slept in, she used the water and a bar of lovely smelling soap she found on the stand. The ceramic bowl was so large, she stood in it and used the pitcher to rinse. The process wasn’t as good as a bath, but getting clean felt heavenly.

From the stand, she gathered toweling that smelled of the sun and dried herself, then rummaged in her bag and donned clean underclothes.

After hanging the towels to dry, she tested the mattress, found it soft and comfortable and stretched out to rest her weary body.

Noah grabbed two full plates from the warming oven in the meal house and carried them to his kitchen. It was his habit to take his meal home and eat alone, and no one questioned the act now.

He didn’t know what to do about Katherine, though. The house was dim and quiet, so he set their meals on the table and climbed the stairs.

At the end of the hall, he tapped.

Tapped again.

“Yes?”

“Supper.”

“Oh, all right. I’ll be down in a moment.”

He struck a match and lit an oil lamp on the wall so she could find her way on the stairs.

True to her word, she showed up in the kitchen almost immediately. The wrinkled dress she wore had two rows of frills at the hem and another around the bodice, like something he imagined a young woman would wear to a summer picnic.

The only light came through the isinglass window on the stove. He pointed to a chair, and she sat.

Noah pushed a plate in front of her.

Katherine picked up her fork. “Thank you.”

He sat at the opposite end of the table.

“Shall I light the lamp?” she asked.

“No.”

“All right.” She took a bite of the stew. “I guess I slept longer than I expected to.”

“You were tired.”

She nodded. “Perhaps tomorrow I’ll have a chance to look around and meet some of the hands.”

“Most’ll be bringing cows down out of the hills.”

“What for?”

“Branding.”

“I see. I can do laundry, you know. It’s what I do well—best actually. I won’t mind taking over that chore.”

“Marjorie earns extra doin’ laundry. Wouldn’t take her job away.”

“Oh. Of course not. Well, I could make our meals. I’m not a very good cook, truly, but I can learn.”

“That’s Fergie’s job.”

“Oh.” She glanced around the room, perhaps hoping to see something interesting in the shadowy corners.

“Coffee?” he offered.

“Yes. Thank you.”

He got up, poured two tin mugs from the pot on the stove and sat one in front of her.

“I should be doing this for you.” She smiled hesitantly and glanced up, but he turned away and strode to the far side of the table.

“Room all right?” he asked.

“The room is lovely, thank you. I guess it wasn’t Levi’s—I mean, since it’d decorated with flowers.”

“No.”

“Well, it’s very nice. Thank you for the warm water, too.”

He should have thought she’d want a bath and offered to fill the steel tub. “You want a bath, just ask. I’ll fill the tub for you.”

“Perhaps tomorrow morning. I would like to wash my hair.”

He nodded.

“Anything you need. Clothing.” He gestured helplessly, having no idea what women needed. “You can shop in Cedar Creek.”

“I have two nice dresses.” She flattened the ruffles at her bodice with a hand. “I was the smallest at the laundry when the owner didn’t claim them. I suspect they belonged to a much younger girl, because of the ruffles, but nonetheless I was fortunate to receive such fine quality clothing.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What do you do here of an evening?”

“Work the stock. Tally the calves and accounts. Go to bed.”

“I see.”

“Books in the parlor. Help yourself.”

She inclined her head in acceptance. Her thoughts traveled to Levi’s body, which she’d overheard Noah telling the hands to carry to the dining room. “Will there be a funeral?”

“Visitation tomorrow. Levi’s mother, Estelle, will be here. We’ll bury him early Thursday.”

“Oughtn’t someone be sitting with the body?”

“Go ahead.”

“I suppose you think it’s odd that I haven’t cried.”

“No.”

“I cried so much when Levi left that I guess I’m all cried out. That was five months ago. Maybe it just hasn’t hit me yet that he’s dead.”

Or that he was with another man’s wife, Noah thought. She’d barely fluttered an eyelash at that news. Maybe she was just a lot stronger than she looked.

Katherine stood. “I’ll wash these plates.”

“Set ’em outside the back door. Fergie’ll get ’em.”

She did as instructed.

Noah stood. “I have work to do. Good night.”

“Good night.”

He turned and entered the small room where he kept a desk and his ledgers and closed the door behind him.

Kate lit an oil lamp and carried it to the dining room, where she sat it on a long table that had been pushed to the side to make room for the coffin and an array of chairs.

She seated herself in the chair nearest the closed casket.

The baby chose that moment to give her a healthy jab and she covered the spot with her palm.

“I’m here, Levi,” she said softly into the still room. “Your baby and I are here. At your home. Noah came to fetch me. He’s a strange fellow, your brother. I still haven’t had a good look at him. But he’s very nice. And he’s making a home for us. Like you were going to do.”

She blinked and let her gaze travel the pine box. “Why didn’t you come back? I thought you loved me.” Her voice broke and her throat grew thick with tears. “I thought we were going to be a family. You said you’d find a job and come back for us. We’d have a fine house, you said.”

She recalled what Noah had told her about a man named Robinson catching Levi with his wife. The pain of that betrayal had begun to sink in.

“What you did was wrong,” she whispered into the still room. “You left me waiting. Were you ever going to come back? Were all those promises you made just lies?”

He hadn’t even been where he’d told her he was going. He’d lied. And he’d left her. Played her for a fool. He’d been attentive and hadn’t given her time to breathe when he’d been eager to kiss her and make love to her. She’d held out, sure that she wanted to be a virgin when she married.

And he’d asked her to marry him. Swept her off to a preacher and spoken the vows all pretty and nice. They’d spent two weeks together in his room at the boarding house, eating in the restaurant, making love each night. And then he’d started slipping away to play poker, staying out late and coming in drunk.

She hadn’t been happy about that and they’d fought. For another week he’d stayed close, but then he told her he was going to look for a job. He needed to get away from the city, and there was nothing she wanted more, so she’d encouraged the plan. She’d cheerfully waved him off and watched for his return. He hadn’t thought it would take more than a week or two.

Three weeks turned into four and she couldn’t afford the room at the boarding house on her own. Kate got sick every morning, bleak evidence that Levi had left a babe in her belly. She’d set aside her pride then and asked her mother to let her stay with her until Levi came back.

Her mother had harped from day one that Levi was out for one thing and once he had it he’d be gone, and Levi’s disappearance had been her opportunity to rub Kate’s nose in callous I-told-you-sos.

Kate had swallowed embarrassment and clung to her hope that Levi would be back. Her time at the laundry and at her mother’s was marked. She’d be leaving any day.

Each day her hope slipped a notch.

Each week her anger and shame increased.

Each month her desperation had grown until she didn’t know whether it or the baby was feeding off her soul.

“You lied,” she accused, her voice no longer wavering. “You used me and you lied. I want to forgive you. I should. I know I should sit here and pray for your soul and forgive you. But you know what, Levi? I don’t forgive you.”

She stood and turned her back on the coffin holding her husband’s body. “I just might never forgive you.”

And with that, she picked up the lamp and swept from the room.