Читать книгу The Cowboy's City Girl - Linda Ford - Страница 11

Chapter Two

Beatrice closed her eyes against the darkness clouding her mind. Her wet clothes were too tight. The cold had seeped into her brain.

The warmth from the stove and the firmness of the hard chair eased her faintness but she dare not open her eyes yet, afraid the room would spin and make it impossible to stay upright.

Levi hovered nearby. He’d saved her from disaster yet again. How long before he decided she was a bad risk and sent her back to town? How could she prove she could do the job if he had to continually rescue her?

Sucking in the deepest breath her constricting clothing allowed, she willed away the dizziness and opened her eyes. She would do what she’d come to do. “I’m fine.”

“Perhaps if you changed into dry clothes.” Mrs. Harding’s voice revealed no criticism, a fact that gave Beatrice a bit of courage.

“Yes, of course. My bags...” She could hardly expect Levi to go out in the rain that still pounded down.

“I’ll get them.”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s still raining.”

“You didn’t ask me. Besides, I could hardly get any wetter.”

Indeed, puddles followed his every step. He was as wet as she, and surely as miserable, yet he was willing to venture back out into the inclement weather. It wasn’t like he had to. He wasn’t one of Father’s servants, who were expected to run and fetch no matter the conditions.

Before she could answer or object he was out the door. She stared after him. If she wasn’t so miserable she might wonder if he was always so accommodating or was he anxious to be done with her?

She’d faced so many strange and frightening things since she’d left home. Only one thing had sustained her—her trust in God. She’d clung to His promises on the trip west and as Aunt Opal showed her how frontier life was lived. God is my strength and power: He maketh my way perfect. A fragile calm filled her. God would provide everything she needed.

Her gaze went to Mrs. Harding.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” the woman asked.

Beatrice nodded. She should get to her feet and introduce herself but she feared having another weak spell. “I’m Beatrice Doyle. The preacher’s wife is my aunt. They’ve sent me out to help you.”

“Pleased to meet you, my dear. And you shall call me Maisie. May I call you Beatrice?”

“Of course.” Beatrice’s insides steadied at Maisie’s kindness.

“I am blessed you have come.”

Levi returned at that moment.

“Put her things in Tanner’s old room,” Maisie said. She turned to Beatrice. “Go with him and please make yourself at home. Change into something dry then come back and tell me about yourself.”

Levi waited at the doorway to the next room for her to rise and follow him. He watched her as if expecting he would have to drop her bags and catch her again.

She held herself very upright and, doing her best to ignore her very uncomfortable clothes, she followed him into a sitting room, where there was a cluster of comfortable chairs, bookshelves full of books and a round stove for cold winter days. “What a warm, inviting room,” she murmured. She could imagine the family gathered round the stove on winter evenings.

“It’s nothing special. Tends to get a little crowded when the whole family is here and as you can see, there’s no place to go but here or the kitchen.”

She couldn’t tell if he meant to complain or if he was happy about having such a large family to crowd the house. “I would think sharing the room with family would be joyous.”

He paused before a door, a smile curving his mouth. “It is.”

She could not get over the way his features softened when he smiled. Like a happy feeling from inside him rushed to get out.

And then he opened one of the four doors along the wall, carried her things inside, then stepped out and indicated she should enter. He fled across the sitting room before she could even thank him.

The room was bright and pleasant, which made her realize the rain had softened to a mist. She parted the curtains and looked out the window. Trees stood shrouded in moisture with a trail through them. She was rather disappointed she couldn’t see the barn and whatever other buildings there would be. In fact, it was the first time in her life she’d been unable to see any sign of human habitation from her dwelling place and it both frightened her and filled her with a sense of awe.

Closing the curtains, she inspected the rest of the room. A little table stood beside the bed and upon it were a lamp and a Bible. Her courage grew by leaps and bounds. At least she’d come to a place where the Bible was important enough to be put by the bedside in their guest room, giving her hope they loved and honored God as much as she did. Another thing her parents and she had disagreed on.

“I do hope you are not going to be fanatical like my sister,” her mother had said with enough disdain to fill volumes. “She chose to marry a penniless preacher when she could have married a wealthy man.”

Since spending time with Aunt Opal, Beatrice decided being like her was a compliment. Aunt Opal was kind and gentle and loving.

She changed into a dry frock—one less fashionable but infinitely more comfortable—and hurried out to the kitchen. She drew to a halt when she saw Levi, in dry clothes, sitting at the table with his mother. She’d heard the outer door open and close and assumed he’d left.

Maisie reached out a hand. “We’re having tea. Come and join us. Tell me about yourself. Levi, pour our guest a cup of tea. My dear, sit down so we can talk.”

“But I’m not a guest. I’ve come to help you.”

“First things first,” Maisie said. “Levi, get her a cup.”

Beatrice crossed to the table feeling Levi’s gaze on her every move. Did he think he might have to spring up and catch her again? No more weakness, she told herself. She had to prove she could do this job. If she did it well enough, Maisie would be able to recommend her for another job. But her legs quivered at Levi’s attention. Why did she allow him to make her nervous?

Beatrice sat in the chair indicated and reluctantly allowed Levi to pour her tea. “Thank you.” She dare not look at him for fear she would see doubt in his eyes as to her suitability to do her job. So far she had done nothing but make more work for him.

“Now tell us about yourself. Where are you from?” Maisie asked.

“Chicago,” Beatrice answered.

“What does your father do?”

“He’s a businessman with many interests. Perhaps you’ve heard of Bernard and Wardell Doyle?” Bernard was her father, Wardell her uncle. “They own a railway, a manufacturing plant and several other businesses, though Father says his greatest asset is his name.” All the more reason Beatrice being a girl had been a disappointment.

“No, I’m sorry,” Maisie said. “I was raised in Philadelphia but haven’t been back east in a number of years. Do you have siblings?”

“I’m an only child.”

“Me, too.” Maisie laughed softly and gave Levi an adoring look. “Some might see that as a blessing, isn’t that right, Levi?”

“I’ve never thought of it much.” His grin was so mischievous that Beatrice almost stared. The man had a beautiful smile that left her breathless. “Except when Tanner and Johnny tied me to a stake and said they were going to torture me.”

“Tanner and Johnny are Levi’s older brothers,” Maisie said. “Tanner is twenty-one, Johnny twenty. My, how time flies.”

Beatrice waited for Maisie to supply Levi’s age. But she seemed to have forgotten the subject.

“How old are you, my dear?”

“Eighteen. How old is Levi—?” She blurted out the question then stammered to a halt. “I’m sorry. That was very rude of me.”

“Not at all.” Maisie smiled at Levi. “He’s nineteen.”

Beatrice concentrated on her tea while she gathered her manners.

Maisie continued. “Did Levi tell you about my injury?”

“He said you cut your leg.”

“I fear it’s rather a bad cut on the back of my leg.” Maisie told of her accident. “My wound needs dressing, but I can’t reach it so I will need you to do it for me.”

Beatrice had seen more illness in the past two weeks then she would have seen in four lifetimes back in Chicago. But she hadn’t tended a wound. “I’ll do my best.” She meant to sound strong and confident, but knew her voice revealed too much uncertainty.

Levi’s expression hardened into sharp lines. No doubt he wondered what sort of help her uncle had sent.

She could and would do the job. He’d see. So would his stepmother.

“Ma is to rest with her leg up, so you’ll be in charge of the kitchen, the meals, the laundry—everything she’d normally do.”

“I understand. My aunt explained my duties.” And had done her best to teach her in a few short hours how to do them. Beatrice had been shocked at how much a person had to know in order to run a house.

“I can’t emphasize too strongly that she is not to be moving about,” Levi continued. “Her leg must be allowed to heal.” His dark gaze held hers in an invisible iron grip. She couldn’t free herself from his look. Did he think she was incapable of doing the job? He must never learn how close to the truth such doubts were. She’d prove to him and to her father, and even to herself, that she could handle the things her choice of life required.

“I believe you’ve made yourself clear,” she said with far more assurance than she felt.

Levi looked ready to say more, perhaps warn her further of the cost of failure on her part. He didn’t know the half of what failure would mean, not only to Maisie, but also to Beatrice.

Maisie interrupted their conversation.

“Levi, would you bring in one of the easy chairs from the other room and a footstool? I believe I’ll rest better if I can sit in the kitchen and talk to Beatrice as she works.”

Levi hustled to do so, arranging a chair and stool by the table and getting Maisie comfortable in it.

“Thank you, my boy.” Maisie patted Levi’s cheek. “Now you run along and leave us to take care of things.”

“Do you have everything you need?” He directed his question to Beatrice.

“I’m sure I can manage.” Not for all the grass in Montana would she admit she might have ventured in out of her depth.

“Then I will take care of the horses and the buggy.” He hurried from the house.

Beatrice gave a nervous glance about the room. No doubt there were things she needed to do, but she had no idea where to even start. Aunt Opal had always given her instructions about what to do next.

“My dear, don’t look so nervous.”

Beatrice took in one deep breath and then another. “I hope I can do what’s expected of me. I confess I’m not very experienced. I might make a mistake.” The word stuck in her mind. According to her parents she was a mistake.

“You can learn whatever you set your mind to and I don’t believe it’s a mistake you are here.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’m an old lady. I’ve learned a few things. And I will tell you this. I don’t think God makes mistakes. I prayed for a nice young woman to come help me. I had no idea how God would answer my prayer, yet here you are. An answer to my prayer.”

Beatrice released a shaky breath. “I also prayed.” She could not say she asked God to help her find a way of being independent. How would she explain that after telling them her father was a wealthy businessman?

“Then we’ll let God do what He has planned. I’m willing to teach you if you’re willing to learn.”

Encouraged by those words, Beatrice looked around the kitchen. “What do you need me to do at the moment?”

“It’s time to prepare supper.”

She swallowed back her rising panic. If only Aunt Opal was here to tell her what to do. I can do this. I must do it. I have to be able to support myself if I’m to avoid my father’s plans. Hoping she portrayed more confidence than she felt, she got to her feet and hurried to the cupboard.

“Levi brought in potatoes and chops before the rain started.”

A few simple words and Beatrice felt like she’d stepped off the deep end of a wharf. I can do this, she repeated.

A few minutes later she was ready to change her mind. She knew to scrub the potatoes and put them to boil, but when she looked at the basin holding the chops she had to push back a desire to gag. What was one to do with them? Fry them? She could do that. Aunt Opal had taught her that much.

Hoping Maisie might make a suggestion, Beatrice turned toward the table.

Maisie’s head was against the back of the chair, her eyes closed, her mouth open. She’d fallen asleep.

That left Beatrice to manage on her own.

She would not give either Levi or his stepmother reason to suggest she return to town.

* * *

Levi took the horses to the barn, where he groomed and fed them, all the while wondering if everything was all right in the house. Beatrice hadn’t looked any sturdier after she’d changed her clothes. If he was to describe her to his brothers, he’d say she was beautiful but fragile, and something about the way her eyes flashed gold and the way she tilted her head gave him cause to wonder if she was as strong as she obviously wanted him to believe. So far, he’d seen no evidence of strength. She’d already fainted once. Was it something she did often?

He paused in his task and glanced in the direction of the house, his nerves twitching with apprehension. If she fainted again, he could see Maisie ignoring the need to rest her leg and rushing to look after Beatrice.

He better go to the house and make sure that didn’t happen.

He hurriedly finished taking care of the horses and left the barn.

A horse and swaying rider crossed the yard in the general direction of the barn.

He groaned. His cousin Charlie often hit the bottle too hard and the way he tipped half off his horse informed Levi that this was one of those days. He made it to Charlie’s side in time to prevent him from crashing to the ground. He staggered under the weight of his cousin but thankfully stayed upright.

“Hi,” Charlie slurred.

“Charlie, it’s men like you who give us half-breeds a bad reputation. Stay away from the liquor and get a job.” He took the bottle from Charlie and poured its contents out on the ground.

His cousin tried to grab the bottle before the alcohol watered the grass but he could barely stand. “It’s mine. Give it back.”

Levi tossed the empty bottle into the bushes. “You’ve had enough.” Way too many times, he and his family had tried to help Charlie. Pa had even hired him on several occasions. But Charlie ended up wandering away, leaving a job undone and searching instead for something he thought he’d find in a bottle.

Charlie lurched to one side, then caught Levi’s arm to steady himself.

Levi glanced toward the house. The rain had stopped, allowing anyone who happened to glance out the kitchen window a full view. If Beatrice saw them would she not think the same as so many people did? Drunk half-breed.

His jaw muscles tightened. He couldn’t help what she saw or what she thought. He wasn’t like Charlie but not many would choose to believe that.

Charlie was kin, but even if he hadn’t been, Levi would not have left him in his present state. He led him and the horse to the barn and turned the horse loose to tend to later. He took Charlie to the water trough and ducked his head underwater twice. It wasn’t like he could get much wetter. He must have ridden throughout the storm that had now passed over. “Maybe that will sober you up.”

Charlie sputtered his protests.

“Let’s go to the bunkhouse.” None of the cowboys was around to protest Charlie’s presence. They made it to the meager quarters and Levi found a change of clothes for his cousin, who was beginning to sober up. Maybe Levi could persuade the man to sign on again. Pa wouldn’t object and Levi could keep him busy with odd jobs.

Levi took a good hard look at Charlie. “I guess you’ll do.”

Charlie grinned somewhat crookedly. “For what?”

“For coming to the house for supper.”

Charlie’s grin widened. “Aunt Maisie is always happy to see me.”

Levi grunted. “She doesn’t care for you showing up drunk.”

“I’s okay now.” Charlie held out his arms and walked across the bunkhouse.

Levi had to admit he did an admirable job of walking a straight line considering he couldn’t stay upright less than an hour ago. “Let’s go, then.” He judged that Beatrice had had plenty of time to prepare a meal and his growling stomach informed him it was time to eat.

They strode toward the house, avoiding the puddles in the yard. Hot water filled the basin on the outside stand, so they washed up then stepped inside.

Charlie ground to a halt as he saw Maisie resting in her chair. Seeing her there relieved a degree of Levi’s worry.

“What happened to you?” Charlie asked.

Maisie reached out welcoming hands to Charlie as she explained her accident. Levi followed and they both kissed her on the cheek.

“This lovely young lady has come to help me so I can rest my leg. Beatrice, this is Levi’s cousin, Charlie.”

Charlie turned to meet Beatrice. His mouth dropped open.

Levi thought it must take a great deal of effort but Charlie managed to close his mouth and swallow loudly. “Pleased to meet you.” He didn’t offer a hand, perhaps wondering if she would object to him touching her.

Levi allowed himself a little self-satisfaction. Not only had he touched her, but he’d also held her in his arms. He could have told Charlie she was as light as a newborn colt but smelled like a whole field of wild roses. Of course, both times she’d not been in a position to object to being held by him. Something he must bear in mind before he got too cocky about it.

“You’re the prettiest girl Levi ever brought here,” Charlie blurted out.

Levi pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. “Charlie, you’re going to make her think I have a habit of bringing girls to the ranch.”

Charlie struggled to find something to say.

Levi held his breath as he wondered what his cousin would drop into the conversation to further embarrass Levi.

Finally, Charlie got his words out. “Only Helen. No one else.”

Helen. The only reminder of how others viewed him that he needed. “Sit down, Charlie.”

Beatrice scurried past him to set another place at the table.

“Yes, please sit down,” Maisie said.

Beatrice placed the serving dishes on the table and sat across from Levi and Charlie. Maisie sat at one end of the table. The other end remained empty. No one ever sat in Big Sam’s place when he was absent.

“Levi, would you ask the blessing?” Maisie said. She reached for Levi’s hand on one side and Beatrice’s on her other.

With his head tipped, Levi watched Beatrice. Would she take Charlie’s hand?

Beatrice stared at Charlie. Neither she nor Charlie reached for the other. He wasn’t sure who to be annoyed with.

Maisie squeezed his hand, bringing his attention back to the need to fill his empty stomach. He closed his eyes and prayed. “Lord, we thank You for Your provision of the food upon this table. Amen.” For no one else’s ears, he added, Help this woman take care of Maisie so her leg can heal. He did not add, Help me remember she’s white and a rich city girl—and I’m a half-breed and a rancher.

“And thank you to Beatrice for preparing the food,” Maisie added as she passed the meat to Levi.

He forked off a chop. Looked at both sides of it and gingerly put it on his plate. It was almost black but he was hungry enough to eat almost anything.

Charlie poked at three chops before he selected one.

Beatrice murmured, “No thanks,” and passed the platter to Maisie.

Maisie took a piece of meat without comment.

The rest of the food was passed around.

Charlie grunted as he spooned out some peas. “Still got water on them.” He edged the vegetables from the bowl.

Conversation died as everyone tackled the food. Levi tried to cut through his potato. It was as hard as a marble in the center. The lumpy, gluey gravy did not make it go down easier.

Maisie bravely ate the food on her plate, though he wondered how she could get it down.

Charlie rearranged his.

Levi put a piece of burnt meat in his mouth, choked a little and washed the food down with a glass of water. His eyes watered.

“I’m sorry.” Beatrice pushed her chair back and bolted outside.