Читать книгу Cowboy Homecoming - Louise Gouge M. - Страница 10
ОглавлениеTolley led Thor and Gypsy to the barn to curry both horses and move his saddle from the mare to his stallion. Laurie tagged along just as she used to as a pesky little tomboy wearing braids and trousers. Only this time, instead of finding her presence annoying, he found it comforting. And helpful. She brought him a currying brush and pointed to stalls where he could work on the horses, but her being there helped most of all.
Thor needed a good brushing, and he leaned into the stiff-bristled brush, whickering his appreciation. While working on the magnificent beast, Tolley felt his heart lighten in an unexpected way. This is where he longed to be, working with horses and raising prime beef. Not sitting behind a desk in a dull law office pushing papers around and making sure his clients filed the right land forms or got their fair share in business deals. He certainly wasn’t interested in defending outlaws.
“You missed a spot.” Laurie, who’d climbed up to sit on the stall’s top rail, pointed to Thor’s left side. Her impudent grin sent a warm feeling through his chest.
He walked around Thor and saw the thick patch of hair. “Why don’t you grab a brush and help me out?” He nodded toward the wall where brushes and tack hung on pegs.
To his surprise, she sighed. “Ma made me promise not to work with the horses.” She held up her hands. “She’s afraid I’ll ruin these for playing the piano.”
“Huh. That’s odd.” He shrugged. “I never figured any of the Eberly girls would turn out to be—” Dainty came to mind, not a word usually associated with these cowgirls.
“Useless?”
“Not at all.” He swiped the brush over Thor’s side. “Do you miss it?”
“Not so much the work, but I do miss feeling useful.”
I know how you feel. But he wouldn’t say that. Instead, he gave her a sympathetic smile as he brushed out the last of Thor’s coat and cleaned the clump of hair from the currying brush. “There you go, boy.” He patted the stallion’s rump and moved over to the next stall.
Was it his imagination, or did Gypsy eye him nervously? He wouldn’t blame her if she did. She’d been fairly docile when he saddled and rode her here, no longer a lively horse. Was that his fault?
“Here you go, beauty. Let’s make you comfortable.” He threw the left stirrup over the saddle, loosened the cinch and let the girth fall, then lifted the saddle and blanket off her back.
“You need a fresh blanket?” Laurie waved toward the tack room where multitiered racks held blankets and saddles.
“Yeah, I guess that’s a good idea. This one’s damp and needs airing.” Another homey feeling swept through him. Their families always helped each other, knowing they’d get their own things back in due time.
He grabbed a fresh brush and worked on Gypsy’s coat. His fingers swept over a dark, shallow dip on her back where the saddle had sat, and a chill plunged clear down to his belly. This was where he’d wounded her two years ago by slipping a large burr between blanket and horse to keep Garrick from winning the Independence Day horse race. He’d expected Gypsy to throw Garrick. Instead, the mare raced her heart out, every stride digging the burr deeper into her flesh. She and Garrick finished only a half-length behind Tolley and Thor.
Later, during the dance, Tolley picked a fight with Garrick, earning himself the Colonel’s sentence of banishment to Boston. And all because the Colonel had shown favor to the Englishman such as he’d never shown Tolley. Even now, shame vied with jealous anger. While he’d made friends with Garrick when he and Rosamond came through Boston on their honeymoon and had been forgiven by the man, now his brother-in-law, he’d never understand why his own father seemed to despise him. Or worse, never gave him a second thought, as though he didn’t even exist unless he got into trouble. And now maybe the Colonel would never know all Tolley had done to try to earn his favor.
“Tolley?” Laurie’s bright blue eyes shone with kindness.
Could she see his inner turmoil? He dipped his head to hide his face.
“Yeah?” He moved away from Gypsy and fetched a fresh blanket from the tack room, then smoothed it over Thor’s back.
“You sure you don’t want something to eat before you go to town?”
He placed his saddle on the stallion and reached under his belly to grab the girth. “No, thanks. I’ll grab a bite at Miss Pam’s.” After cinching the girth, he looked over Thor’s back at Laurie. “She still runs the café, right?”
“Yes. And still makes the best pies and cakes.”
“I seem to recall all of you Eberly ladies are mighty fine cooks, too.”
“We try.” Laurie moved forward as if about to jump down from the rail.
Tolley hurried around his horse and grabbed her waist to lift her down. Once her feet touched the barn floor, he didn’t want to let go. Marrying this pretty little gal would have all kinds of benefits, not simply gaining the Colonel’s approval. That selfish thought, so like his old way of thinking, broke his grip like a bee sting. He stepped back. “Those city shoes might turn your ankle if you jump. They’ll sure as anything get messed up if you tromp around these stalls.”
“I suppose so.” She sounded a bit breathless as she blinked those big blue eyes at him. “You sure you won’t stay for dinner?” she repeated.
“Still no, but thanks.” He started to chuck her under the chin like he used to but resisted the urge. Such a gesture might offend her.
“One of our cowhands can take Gypsy back to Four Stones.”
“Thanks.” He secured his carpetbag to the back of the saddle and mounted up. “See you later, Laurie.”
She reached up and squeezed his hand. “Welcome home, Tolley.”
How did she know those were the exact words he’d needed to hear?
* * *
As Tolley rode away, Laurie shook her head. No matter how fond of him she used to be, she also remembered his boyhood mischief and the way he’d hurt many people. Besides, despite how attractive he was, she refused to fall for a San Luis Valley man, especially one who wanted to settle here. Her future lay in Denver.
After picking at her noon meal, she tried practicing piano again. But she kept looking out the window to see if Tolley would ride by. A silly idea, of course, because he’d be in town at Mrs. Foster’s boardinghouse or Rosamond’s hotel.
Maybe she could spend time with Maisie and help with baby Johnny. One day Laurie hoped to have children, too. Oddly, all she could picture were pint-sized cowboys learning to ride on one of the tamer old cow ponies on the ranch. Another silly idea, because her children would live in a Denver mansion and attend boarding schools.
“Ma, if I promise not to work too hard, may I visit Maisie for a few days?”
“Why, what a wonderful idea.” Ma plunged the dinner dishes into the hot soapy water and began to wash them.
“I’ll dry the dishes first.” Laurie grabbed a tea towel.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Ma tugged the towel away from her. “You go on and pack a bag. I’m sure Maisie will welcome the visit. George, you be sure to saddle Laurie’s horse, you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Seated at the kitchen table, Pa grinned and winked at Laurie. At least he didn’t treat her like a fragile flower. “I’ll take care of it, sunshine.”
By the time she’d changed clothes and packed, Pa had Little Bit saddled and waiting by the back door. He’d also put her rifle in the saddle holster as protection against possible encounters with coyotes or rattlesnakes.
She took her time riding the nearly five miles to Esperanza. The warm, sunny day had just the right amount of breeze wafting over the landscape. Birds sang or chirped in the shallow marshes along the road, and in the distance she saw rabbits out for an afternoon stroll. Or so her Denver friends might think. Laurie itched to shoot the critters to take to Maisie for supper. But that would involve skinning and gutting them. Maisie might not have time, and Ma would throw a fit if Laurie used a hunting knife to do the job.
At Maisie and Doc’s two-story house, she tied Little Bit’s reins to the front hitching rail beside another horse and the undertaker’s hearse. One of Doc’s patients must have died, and others needed his care. He must have returned from Four Stones Ranch after tending the Colonel.
Seated on settees and chairs along the wall in the front hallway, folks awaited Doc’s help.
“So glad you came, sis.” Maisie handed her infant son to Laurie and whispered, “If you can tend Johnny for a bit while Doc finishes up with the dead fella, I’d appreciate it.”
“I’d love to.” Laurie adored the chubby little rascal who’d thrown his tiny arms around her neck. She and her sisters looked enough alike that Johnny seemed to accept her without reservations. “Who died?” Like Maisie, Laurie kept her voice to a whisper.
“Dathan Hardison.” Maisie sounded sad, as though that varmint’s death wasn’t a relief, since he’d lingered near death since before Christmas. All that time, she and Doc tended him, valuing his life as much as any upright citizen’s.
Laurie had her own feelings about Hardison. He’d shot their sister Beryl during a bank robbery attempt. According to their sister Grace, the other outlaw, Deke Smith, repented and came to the Lord...right before he shot Hardison to keep him from killing Grace, Reverend Thomas and Marybeth Northam. Then poor old Deke died, too.
“Did Hardison ever...?” She let the question hang in the air.
Tears eased down Maisie’s cheeks as she shook her head. “Don’t think so. Doc and I did try to persuade him.”
Laurie sighed and hugged Johnny closer. In spite of all the evil Hardison had done, she couldn’t shrug off the dreadful thought of his eternal destination, one of his own choosing.
The surgery’s pocket doors slid open, and Doc appeared in the hallway carrying one end of a stretcher. Deputy Gareau, whose first name, Justice, was appropriate for his work, held up the back end. Mr. Macy, the undertaker, trailed behind. A white sheet covered a body so thin it seemed nearly flat. A murmur went through the waiting area, some saying, “Good riddance.”
Maisie faced the group. “Folks, as soon as I can clean the surgery and Doc finishes up with Mr. Macy, we’ll take care of you.” She entered the room and slid the pocket doors shut.
Dismissing her dismal thoughts about the lost outlaw, Laurie gave Johnny another hug. Maisie needed help, so she’d make herself useful. In Denver, she’d missed the sisterly camaraderie the five of them shared. Had missed lifelong friends, even a rascal like Tolley Northam. Would miss them again when she moved back to the city for good. Of course, she only felt sad about leaving because she loved them all so much. Once back in the city teaching at the conservatory and giving concerts, she’d be happy again. Of course she would.
* * *
Mrs. Foster welcomed Tolley like a long-lost son but asked for time to prepare his room, so he spent the night at the hotel. When he returned the next morning, she showed him to his room.
“I have only two other boarders,” Mrs. Foster said, “but other than mealtimes, they mostly keep to themselves. Mrs. Runyan is the milliner, and Mr. Parsley is a watchmaker. Their shops are over at the hotel.”
“Thank you for the room, ma’am.” Tolley glanced around the spacious, modestly furnished chamber. “You let me know if I can help with anything.”
“Why, I’ll do that, Tolley. Such a kind offer. Adam Starling does a bit of work for me, but he has other jobs around town, so he’s not always available. He’s supporting his family, you know.”
“Yes, ma’am. I know.” Yesterday had been the hardest day of Tolley’s life, but at least money wasn’t a problem. With a sick father, seventeen-year-old Adam bore a heavy load as the man of his family. Tolley’s own father lay ill, too, but nobody needed him to step in and take charge. Nobody needed him at all.
That afternoon, boots off and jacket hanging over the back of a desk chair, he lay on his bed. A warm, pleasant breeze blew in through the open window, fluttering the frilly white curtains and making him drowsy. He’d never realized how tiring travel could be. He’d spent five days and nights on various trains as he crossed the country. With the added emotional shock of the Colonel’s illness and his own exile from home, he felt as beaten down as if he’d walked all the way from Boston. Sleep beckoned, and he relaxed into the comfortable feather mattress. After all, no one needed him. No one even wanted him. Maybe when he set up his law office...
A hard thump, followed by a scream, woke him with a start.
A weak voice called out, “Lord, help me.”
“Mrs. Foster!”
Tolley shook off sleep and dashed from the room. At the bottom of the back staircase, Mrs. Foster lay in a heap, a tin bucket beside her and water covering the stairs and the lady’s skirt. She groaned softly. Taking care not to slip, Tolley descended, soaking his socks in the process.
Mrs. Foster’s eyes filled with tears as she cradled one arm in the other. One black high-top shoe stuck out at an odd angle from beneath the hem of her black muslin skirt.
Heart in his throat, Tolley forced away his horror. “Dear lady, what can I do to help? Shall I carry you up to your room?” Painfully thin, she’d make a light burden.
She shook her head. “Let me catch my breath.” Trembling, she stifled another whimper. “I think my arm is broken.”
“Then I shouldn’t move you. Will you be all right while I fetch Doc Henshaw?”
Biting her lip, she nodded.
Coatless, hatless and bootless, Tolley didn’t bother going upstairs to retrieve his garments. He hurried out the back door and across the yard, taking a shortcut through gardens and over fences until he reached Doc Henshaw’s kitchen door, his feet muddy and sore. Unlike in Boston where everyone came to the front door, in Esperanza people generally came to back entrances, at least at the homes of their friends. While he pounded on the door, he realized his mistake. If Doc was home, he’d be working in his surgery at the front of the house.
To his surprise, Laurie opened the door, a red-haired baby on her hip. She looked a bit frazzled and beyond adorable. But he mustn’t waste time on such foolish thoughts.
“Tolley, what on earth?”
“Mrs. Foster fell down the stairs.” He paused to catch his breath. “She thinks her arm may be broken.”
“Oh, no!” Laurie thrust the infant into his arms and hurried from the room.
The baby gave him a startled look and then burst into tears, his cries reaching a high pitch any Boston soprano would be proud of.
“Um, uh, there, there. Shh, shh.” Tolley bounced the little one and gave him a silly grin, which did nothing at all to calm the child.
Maisie entered the kitchen, worry written across her pretty face. “Thank you, Tolley. Here’s Mommy, my sweet darlin’.” She took her son. His wailing ceased, but he eyed Tolley with a wary look. “Doc and Laurie went out the front door.” She glanced toward the door leading to the rest of the house.
Suddenly embarrassed, he gave her a sheepish grin. What had the neighbors thought of a man running through their backyards? “Thanks, Maisie. I’ll walk around the house so I won’t track up your floors.”
As he stepped off the back porch, Maisie called out, “Welcome home, Tolley.”
Appreciating her kind words, he grinned and waved over his shoulder.
* * *
“Laurie, will you get some towels?” Doc knelt beside Mrs. Foster, tending her ankle.
“On the table.” Mrs. Foster waved her uninjured hand toward the kitchen, then grabbed her other arm and bit her lip.
Laurie hurried to do as Doc asked. A stack of neatly folded ivory linen towels sat on the kitchen table. This must be laundry day at the boardinghouse, because other clean items filled a wicker basket nearby, probably awaiting ironing. Did Mrs. Foster do laundry for her boarders? Ironing? The thought didn’t sit well with Laurie. She picked up three of the large towels, thinking of the work involved to make them so fresh-smelling and spotless.
In the hallway, Doc gently examined Mrs. Foster’s foot. “Wrap a towel around her.” He covered her bare foot with another one.
Following his orders, Laurie sat on the bottom step and pulled the shivering woman into her arms. Even though wetness seeped through her own skirt, she hoped her body heat would help warm her dear friend. “What happened?”
“I’ve made a mess of things.” Mrs. Foster released a shaky laugh. “Was taking water upstairs to clean the floors before my boarders come home in another hour.”
Laurie noticed the bucket. “She shouldn’t be carrying full buckets up these stairs.”
Doc shook his head. “I’ve tried to tell her.”
“What you didn’t tell me is how I’m gonna take care of my boarders if I don’t—”
“That’s the last bucket you’ll carry.” Tolley appeared in the doorway to the front hall. “From now on, I’ll take care of hauling water.” He gave Laurie a gentle smile.
Her heart popped right up into her throat. Because of his kind offer, of course, not because of that smile.
“Hey, Tolley.” Doc spared him a glance as he continued his assessment of Mrs. Foster’s injuries. “Good thing you happened along when you did.”
“You want me to carry Mrs. Foster upstairs?” He stood there in his bare feet and with muddy socks dangling from one hand.
“I want to stabilize her injuries first.”
Mrs. Foster sighed, and her pale cheeks turned pink. “I’m so sorry to be such trouble.”
“Now, now,” Doc said. “You’re no trouble at all. Tolley, would you go back to the surgery and ask Maisie to send over a large and a small splint?” He gave Tolley a quick grin. “You could put something on your feet first.”
Now Tolley’s cheeks took on a little color. “Sure thing.” He made his way to the front staircase, and the sound of his bare feet running up the steps came through the walls and ceiling.
If Mrs. Foster’s situation weren’t so dire, Laurie would’ve giggled. “Is there anything else I can do?”
“How about some tea?” Doc’s forehead creased slightly. “Wait. Mrs. Foster, would you like for Laurie to help you into some dry clothes?”
“Y-yes, p-please.” She shivered again despite the warm day.
Laurie didn’t need further instructions. Within ten minutes, she’d fetched a dry gown and underpinnings for the lady and helped her change while Doc made tea in the kitchen. Tolley returned with the splints, then disappeared upstairs while Doc secured them to Mrs. Foster’s leg and arm. Doc also gave her the tea.
“I’m sorry to say the arm is broken, but I think your ankle is only sprained. The willow bark in your tea should help a little with the pain, but be sure to tell me if you need something stronger.” He lifted Mrs. Foster and began the trek up to her room. With Tolley and Laurie helping, they soon settled her in her four-poster bed.
“Oh, dear.” The usually calm lady fluttered her uninjured hand over the quilted coverlet. “How will I care for my boarders?”
“Don’t you worry for a minute.” Laurie gently grasped that fluttering hand and patted it. “I’ll move in and manage everything for you.” Even Ma would approve of her taking care of the lady who’d taught Laurie to sing and play the piano.
“Would you, my dear?” Mrs. Foster’s eyes grew moist again. “I’d be so grateful.”
“I’ll be here, too.” Tolley gave Doc a doubtful look. “If you think it’s all right.”
“Most folks are pretty understanding when a need arises like Mrs. Foster’s. And, after all, another unattached lady and gentleman live here, and no one has considered it improper.”
“Good to hear.” Tolley grinned, his relief apparent.
Laurie considered what to do next. “I’ll see what I can find in the kitchen for supper.”
“I planned fried chicken, dear,” Mrs. Foster said. “Would you mind—Ow, oh, dear...” She gripped her injured arm with her free hand.
“Ma’am,” Doc said, “if you don’t object, I’m going to give you a dose of laudanum. A good rest will help you to heal.”
“Oh, my.” She gave him a doubtful look. “I suppose so.”
“Fried chicken coming up.” Laurie hoped her cheerful tone would encourage Mrs. Foster. She hadn’t cooked in two years, but it should be like riding a horse. Once in the saddle or, in this case, the kitchen, everything should come back to her. Or so she hoped.
Doc gave Mrs. Foster her laudanum and instructed Laurie on subsequent doses. Then the three of them left her to rest and went downstairs.
“I know you’ll manage things here, sis.” Doc patted Laurie on the shoulder. “I’ll send Maisie over to check on you later this evening.”
“I’ll be fine, although I do need to let Ma and Pa know where I’m staying. Maybe Georgia could pack more clothes for me and bring them to town.”
“When Adam Starling comes by to see if we need anything, I’ll send him out to the ranch to arrange it.” Toting his black satchel, he headed for the front door.
“I guess I’d better see about supper.” Laurie glanced through the large opening to the parlor, where she’d spent countless days taking piano lessons from Mrs. Foster. The old upright piano still sat in the corner, an embroidered linen runner protecting its mahogany top. The house appeared spotless. How did Mrs. Foster do all the cooking and laundry and also clean her boarders’ rooms? Laurie moved toward the kitchen door. “First I should clean up the stairs.”
“What should I do?” Tolley followed her.
“Peel some potatoes and—”
Before she could finish, the front door opened, and Mrs. Runyan walked in. The short, middle-aged woman set her parasol in the hall tree by the door and took a step toward the staircase. Seeing Laurie and Tolley, she stopped and gasped, her brown eyes wide with shock.
“What on earth is going on here?”
Behind her, a well-dressed gentleman entered the house. “Who are you people?” He removed his black bowler hat, narrowed his already beady eyes and glared at Laurie first, then at Tolley.
Tolley stood so close to her she could feel him bristling. The boy she’d grown up with had a quick temper, so the accusatory looks in the boarders’ eyes might easily set him off. She stepped in front of him.
“Mrs. Runyan, how nice to see you. And you must be Mr. Parsley.” She reached out to the short, slender gentleman. “How do you do? I’m Laurie Eberly. This is Bartholomew Northam.”
“Indeed!” The man moved back and stared at her hand like it was a rattlesnake. A growl rumbled in Tolley’s throat, and even Laurie battled with her temper. But an angry retort wouldn’t solve anything.
“Mrs. Foster had an accident. We are her lifelong friends, and we came to help.” She could hear the snippiness in her own voice at his suggestion of impropriety.
“Indeed?” Mrs. Runyan looked at her up and down, then did the same to Tolley. “Am I to understand you two unattached young people will both be residing here to assist her?”
Laurie bit her lip. Apparently the woman had no interest in learning what happened to Mrs. Foster.
“Yes, we’ll be residing here.” Tolley moved toward Mrs. Runyan, towering over her, and gave her a deceptively charming smile. “Like you and Mr. Parsley.”
Mrs. Runyan gasped. “Why, you impudent young man. I am a respectable widow and a gifted milliner. The wealthiest ladies in town patronize my shop. I am above reproach.”
After looking down his long, pointed nose at Mrs. Runyan, Mr. Parsley lifted his equally pointed chin. “I am an important businessman.” He sniffed with indignation. “People come from all over the San Luis Valley and beyond to engage my watchmaking services.”
“Well,” Laurie chirped. Apparently neither of these newcomers knew the Eberlys and Northams were the founding families of Esperanza. “Now we all know who we are. What are we going to do to help our dear Mrs. Foster? Mrs. Runyan, would you be so kind as to help me prepare supper? And Mr. Parsley, perhaps you could bring in some firewood?”
Although obviously not friends, the two boarders gasped together as if they were a Greek chorus.
“Help you? The very idea!” Mrs. Runyan placed a hand on her chest and stepped back. “I pay for my room and board in this establishment, and I expect my supper to be served promptly at seven.”
Barely able to comprehend the woman’s hauteur, Laurie looked to the man.
“As I have already informed you, I am a watchmaker. Do you have any idea how delicate my hands are? How I must protect them?” He clutched the appendages to his chest and huffed. “Carry wood? How insulting.” He marched up the front staircase, stopping halfway. “Friends of Mrs. Foster or not, rest assured I shall watch you two young people. One small inappropriate step, and I shall vacate the premises and move to the hotel.”
“Humph.” Mrs. Runyan began her own march up the stairs, but obviously couldn’t permit the watchmaker to outdo her with his arrogance. “Breakfast at eight a.m. Supper at seven sharp. My room is to be cleaned weekly, and I expect clean linens every week, or I shall find other accommodations. Is that understood, Miss Eberly?”
“Why, you—” Tolley lifted a scolding finger.
Again, Laurie stepped in front of him, this time elbowing him hard in the ribs. She covered his startled “oof” with “Why, of course, Mrs. Runyan. Breakfast at eight. And tonight, supper at seven sharp.” She barged through the swinging kitchen door, trying to quell her anger at the two selfish boarders. Did they have no compassion? Didn’t they know people out here in the West took care of one another?
“Why’d you do that?” Tolley followed her into the kitchen, one hand on his rib cage. “You have sharp elbows.”
She rolled her eyes as she spun around to face him. “Don’t you be giving me trouble, too.”
He held up both hands in a pose of surrender. “Hey, take it easy. This isn’t all on you, y’know. I’ll help with the chores.”
She exhaled in relief. “Thank you. That’s what I needed to hear. Now, while I start the chicken, would you please peel the potatoes and then clean up the back stairs?”
“Wait. What? I didn’t mean I’d do women’s work.”
The puzzlement on his handsome face would be humorous if he hadn’t just dashed Laurie’s hopes of getting real, actual help in making sure Mrs. Foster’s boarders didn’t move out. If they did, how would her dear friend support herself?
Couldn’t Tolley see how selfish he was being?
