Читать книгу A Pony Express Christmas - Rhonda Gibson - Страница 9
ОглавлениеSouth Platte, Colorado Winter 1860
“Rider! Coming in fast!”
Leah Hollister didn’t have time to worry about her luggage tossed carelessly to the ground by the stagecoach driver, or the fact that the coach’s rapid exit had drenched her feet in wet, cold snow. She heard horse’s hooves pounding the ground, bearing down on her and the four-year-old child whose hand she gripped tightly within her own.
“Move, lady!” Panic filled the male voice that called out.
Leah scooped up the little girl and fled across the icy snow toward the porch of the large log cabin closest to her. Reaching it, she turned in time to see a young man on a horse speed past, leaping over her luggage with ease and heading toward a barn that was located on the far side of the house. Aware of the danger she’d just escaped, Leah’s hands started to shake.
Two men were in front of the barn. One of them sat on a compact, sorrel-colored horse. The other man stood off to the side, watching the transfer between the riders, just as Leah was doing.
The first rider handed a flat leather saddle bag to a man astride a mustang. As soon as the second rider had the bag, he laid low over his horse’s neck and was gone almost as fast as the first young man had ridden in.
Leah stared after the rider until he could no longer be seen. She shivered as a blast of icy wind hit her uncovered face. Where was he going in such a hurry? Her gaze moved back to the barn and stable. The two other men had disappeared, presumably inside.
Molly buried her face in Leah’s neck and shivered. She tried to burrow her slight body closer. One small gloved hand tangled in the opening of Leah’s coat, allowing more cold air in, while the other clung to her worn rag doll.
Taking a deep breath, Leah walked back to their luggage, which still sat in the middle of the yard. Her tired brain tried to register what had just happened. Why had those riders been in such a hurry? What was in that bag that was so important? She’d never seen anything like it, but then, she hadn’t seen much of life outside of an orphanage. Even the stagecoach ride had been exciting to a girl who’d been so completely sheltered. It dawned on her that perhaps the stage stop was also a pony express stop as well.
Her body trembled from cold as well as fright as she set Molly down and reached for the closest bag. The child’s feet went in different directions on the slick, packed snow and Leah grabbed for her, helping her to stand upright again.
“You’re okay,” she comforted, but to her dismay, her voice wavered. Leah swallowed hard then leaned forward, determined to get her luggage and move them inside, out of the cold and out of danger’s way. As she reached for the handle, her weight shifted and she did a little dance trying to regain her balance, but she couldn’t stop the movement of her feet or the slickness of the ice underneath them. Leah’s boots slipped out from under her and she fell, face forward, into her suitcases.
She groaned. This day had just gone from bad to worse. Tiredness lay on her shoulders like a mountain of snow on a small hilltop.
A man extended a hand to help her up. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” Leah pretended not to see his outstretched hand and used the nearest bag to push herself up from the ground. The toe of her boot caught in the hem of her dress. She groaned as she heard the tearing of fabric. Working to untangle her foot with as much dignity as she could muster, Leah pushed herself upright once more and dusted the snow from the front of her dark green traveling dress. “I believe so.” She felt Molly’s hand bunch up in her skirts.
The sharp voice softened as he offered, “Here, let me help you carry these inside the station.”
For the first time, Leah looked at the owner of the deep voice. He scooped up two of the larger bags and stood tall before her. She estimated him to be about six feet, maybe an inch taller. He wore what looked like a buckskin coat and a brown, floppy hat. Dark brown boots covered his feet. She couldn’t help but notice he also wore some sort of gun on his narrow hip.
Her breath caught in her throat when she glanced up to find a pair of soft, coffee-colored eyes watching her. Eyes that earlier had been wide with concern now seemed full of unhidden laughter. Even so, she liked his eyes and the deepness of his voice.
Embarrassed, Leah looked away; she pulled her short, threadbare coat around her. “Thank you for your help, Mr.—?”
“Just Jake, ma’am.”
“Jake.” The cold November wind pulled at her straight, mousy-brown hair, reminding her that she was no beauty and that she was soon to be a married woman. She raised her head. “I’m ready.” He nodded and then strolled to the front porch.
A tiny hand tugged at her skirts once more. Leah reached down and picked up the little girl. Molly tucked a gloved thumb between her plump lips and laid her head on Leah’s shoulder. She knew Molly was tired from their trip. Warmth for the little girl filled her heart as Leah patted her back.
Jake returned and picked up the other two bags. His gaze searched hers, a quizzical look in their depths. “You really should get inside, ma’am.” Once more he turned to walk to the porch.
Leah nodded but didn’t move forward. She focused her attention down the snow-covered road toward the town laid out before her. South Platte, Colorado, a small town that was about ten miles from Julesburg, Colorado. From what she could see through the falling snow, South Platte had a general store, a restaurant, a blacksmith shop, a livery, a church, and from the sound of the piano coming through an open door, a saloon.
Leah frowned. Did she really want to be here? She sighed. What other choice did she have? She had promised to deliver Molly to her uncle, Jake Bridges, and to marry Mr. Thomas Harris.
Her gaze jerked to the wide shoulders and back of the man carrying her luggage. Could that Jake be Molly’s uncle, Jake Bridges?
For the first time she focused on the house that served as the stagecoach stop and also functioned as a pony express home station. A large log house stretched out before her. Sheds, various outbuildings and the barn surrounded the log house. Even though it was early, a full month before Christmas, the house had red and green fabric twisted into a form of garland on the second-story railing. A Christmas wreath hung on the door.
To one side of the house, a small grove of trees was the only vegetation in sight. The sound of running water had her looking over her shoulder at a river that was mostly frozen over. It wasn’t close to the house, so she felt sure Molly would be safe.
The little girl shivered in her arms. Leah pulled Molly closer, realizing that every day she spent with her would make it harder for both of them when the time came to part. Leah would soon move out to the Harris ranch, and Molly would move into her uncle Jake’s home, wherever that might be.
“Are you coming?” The man named Jake opened the door to the ranch-style building. His gaze ran over her and the little girl before he turned and stepped inside.
His deep voice pulled her from the stupor she’d been in and Leah nodded. If he truly was Jake Bridges, then Leah knew she’d have to get word to Thomas Harris of her arrival. Or perhaps she could hire Jake to take her out to the Harris ranch.
Thomas Harris’s name whispered through her tired mind as she sat the child back down and scooped up the last remaining bag, Molly’s bag. She really didn’t know Mr. Harris, other than what she had read in the two letters he’d sent. They’d never met or exchanged pictures. The thought of marrying a complete stranger both scared her and offered a strange sense of comfort. Being Thomas Harris’s wife would give her a permanent home. Something Leah had wanted all her young life.
Molly’s little hand tangled into her skirt once more, reminding her that she had to take care of the child before she even contemplated her own life. Molly had been Leah’s constant companion for over three months.
Knowing cholera was sweeping Sweetwater, Texas, at a rapid pace, Molly’s father had brought her to the orphanage for safekeeping. The children and people who worked there very seldom came into contact with the town folks and he’d felt sure that Molly would be safe from the sickness that was sweeping the area. Then, when it became clear that both Molly’s parents had taken ill, Mrs. Wilkins, the headmistress of the orphanage, had placed the little girl in Leah’s care.
Molly’s story was a sad one, for sure. Her mother had been the first to become sick. The poor woman died after several long days and then Molly’s father had taken ill. He’d struggled against death, knowing he’d be leaving the little girl behind. It was only after he’d written a letter to his brother and then extracted the promise from Leah that she’d take Molly to his brother in Julesburg, Colorado, that he’d finally given up his battle. Fortunately, Molly would grow up knowing her parents had loved her, unlike Leah, whose parents had abandoned her on the orphanage doorstep when she was less than a year old.
Leah craved a home, and Molly’s arrival in her life had made her realize how much. Shortly after John Bridges’s death, Leah had answered Thomas Harris’s ad for a mail-order bride. She’d learned from the ad that the Harris ranch was located in the same general area where Jake Bridges lived. She’d hoped to be close to the child and still be able to have a husband and a home.
Leah looked down at Molly. She still wanted to make sure the child was settled before she continued with her own life. No child should ever be left alone in this world.
Leah stepped up onto the porch. Making sure Molly was safe had become of utmost importance. If this Jake was her uncle, then Molly and Leah’s time together would soon be over. Leah felt a tug at her heart and it wasn’t comfortable. She was going to miss the little girl.
Jake reappeared and took the bag from her. His gaze darted to Molly before he went back into the house. Had she seen a flicker of recognition on his face? Surely not. Even if Molly was Jake Bridges’s niece, Molly’s father had said his brother had never met the little girl.
He dropped the bag inside the door and then held it open for Leah and Molly to enter. Warm air stung Leah’s chilled face. She looked about the spacious room. One half was a sitting area and the other looked like a dining room. The smell of coffee teased her tired senses as a door opened on the other side of a long kitchen table and a heavyset woman entered.
Seeing the two of them standing in the doorway, the woman rushed across to Leah and grabbed her hand, pulling her farther into the house. Her warm hands felt wonderful against Leah’s ice-cold one. “Come on in, child. You must be chilled to the bone.”
Leah allowed the woman to guide her toward the table. She noticed that the young rider who’d almost run them down was already seated. He held a steaming mug in his hands.
“I’ll go get you a cup of coffee. That will warm you up and then you can tell us all about yourself.” The woman left the room before Leah could respond.
“We weren’t expecting anyone to arrive on the stage today.” Jake pulled out a seat for her before he sat down.
The young rider added, “I’m surprised the stage came this far out with the snow falling and another storm on the way.”
Both men stared at her as if waiting for her to speak. Leah didn’t know what to say. Did she want to confide in total strangers?
How did she tell them that she and Thomas had agreed to meet in South Platte and then get married in Julesburg, Colorado? That Thomas had promised her a fine home and lots of room to raise flowers during the spring and summer months.
He’d sent stagecoach tickets and money for both her and Molly to travel to the pony express station in South Platte. Leah remembered feeling blessed that her future husband was a generous man. She’d followed his written instructions and taken the very next stage out as winter had already hit Colorado and there would be no further chances for her to arrive before summer.
However certain she had been about the plans she’d made, discussing her personal business with strangers went against the grain and she found herself reluctant to divulge any private information. Did she really want to share all that? She took a deep, fortifying breath.
The older woman returned and placed a steaming mug down in front of Leah. “Here, drink this. It will make you feel better in no time.” She was a short, plump woman with bright blue eyes. “I’ll have your cider out in a few moments, Jake. Would the little one like a cup of hot apple cider, too?”
Molly nodded. Her doe-like eyes studied everyone about the table. Then she ducked her head and hid her face behind Leah.
“That would be lovely. Thank you.” Leah patted Molly on the back.
The woman smiled and hurried back into what Leah assumed was the kitchen. For some odd reason, Leah had figured Jake to be a coffee-drinking man but it was obvious that the older woman knew he’d want apple cider.
Uncomfortable silence filled the room. Leah leaned down and unbuttoned Molly’s coat. She pulled the little stocking hat from the girl’s head. Soft blond curls floated about her angelic face. No one spoke as Leah removed the gloves from Molly’s hands. She looked into the little girl’s warm brown eyes. “Better?”
Molly nodded and tucked her thumb into her mouth once more. At four years old, she should have already stopped sucking her thumb, but with both her parents gone, Leah didn’t have the heart to take away that single comfort from the little girl. She pulled Molly up onto her lap.
Leah picked up the hot cup and took a sip. She was surprised that the coffee tasted so rich and full. She’d been traveling for days, and most of the places the stage had stopped had served weak coffee with hardly any flavor. She almost sighed out loud as its warmth slowly filled her chest and stomach.
The woman returned with a metal pot that she set on the table and two more steaming mugs. The smaller one she placed in front of Molly. “Here you go, little one. This should help warm you up.” A gentle smile graced her lips as she looked at Molly.
The sweet fragrance of apples drifted from the cup. Leah noted it was only about half full and didn’t steam like her coffee or Jake’s larger drink. She picked up the cider and handed it to Molly. It was warm to the touch, not hot. “Thank you.” She offered a wobbly smile.
The older woman dropped into a chair at the head of the table. “You’re welcome. I’m Agnes Frontz. Me and my husband, Charles, run this pony express station. He’s at the general store picking up supplies but will be back in time for supper.” She pointed to one of the two men. “This here is Will. He’s one of the pony express riders that lives here when he’s not working.”
The rider tilted his head in her direction. He looked no more than sixteen years old. His blue eyes sparkled in her direction as if he knew something she didn’t.
Agnes moved on to the big man. “And I believe you’ve already met our stock tender, Jake Bridges.”
Her heart sank. Leah looked at the big man. Light blond hair and brown eyes the same shade as Molly’s looked back at her. She’d planned to find Molly’s uncle but had hoped to delay her separation from the little girl for as long as possible.
Oh, Lord, please give me the strength to leave Molly in the care of her uncle.
* * *
Jake nodded at Leah before lifting the sweet cider to his lips and drinking deeply from the cup. He held her deep crystal-blue eyes over the rim. She had to be one of the prettiest women he’d seen in a long time. What was she doing out here in the middle of nowhere?
Her voice shook as she said, “It’s nice to meet you all. My name is Leah Hollister.”
“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Mrs. Frontz asked.
Leah raised her head and looked Mrs. Frontz in the eyes. “Thomas Harris and I are to be married.”
Mrs. Frontz poured more coffee from the metal pot into Will’s cup. “Is he coming for you dear? With the weather it might take a while, but you’re welcome to stay here and wait for him, if you’d like.”
Jake watched Leah’s lids slip down over her eyes as she shifted in her seat.
“I’ve some unfinished business before I let him know I’ve arrived.” Her gaze rose to Jake’s face, as if her business had something to do with him, before lowering once more. “But I’m sure Mr. Harris will be happy to pay for my room and board when he arrives.”
The little girl slurped her drink and giggled. She was a cute thing but didn’t look much like her mother. Jake wondered how long Mrs. Hollister had been a widow.
His first impression of her had been that she had good looks but no brains. Who else but a clueless city girl would stop in the middle of the yard like that and look about like a lost lamb? Hadn’t Mr. Edwards, the stage coach driver, told her that this was a pony express station? That riders came in fast and hard?
Mrs. Frontz stood and picked up the coffeepot. “Don’t you worry none about that. I’m sure the Harris men will take care of everything.” For a moment she stared at Leah, the coffeepot extended away from her body, a questioning look in her eyes. Jake saw Leah’s shoulders stiffen almost as if she dreaded giving the answers Mrs. Frontz required. She barely hid her surprise when Mrs. Frontz turned to the kitchen, calling back over her shoulder, “Boys, gather up the lady’s bags and carry them up to one of the guest rooms.”
Jake and Will pushed back their chairs to do as they were told.
Leah’s soft voice stopped them. “I can take them.” She set the little girl down and was on her feet in an instant.
“Oh, no, you won’t.” Mrs. Frontz set a bowl of steaming stew on the table and took Leah’s arm. “You are going to sit right here and warm up while I feed you both. Then we’ll send you off to your beds.”
Jake hid his smile as he watched Leah do as she was told. Agnes Frontz was a hardworking woman who always got her way. She cooked and cleaned up after the riders and expected them to obey her every word.
She wasn’t hard on them, but she did like to mother them. It looked as if Leah Hollister was about to receive the same treatment.
Jake picked up two of the bags he’d brought in earlier. The first time he’d seen the cases, with Mrs. Hollister standing in the middle of them, it had scared ten years off his life. He’d called to her that the rider was coming, and for a split second Jake had thought she was deaf or something. She’d stood as still as a statue before her sense had kicked in and she’d grabbed up the child and raced for the cabin.
Her soft voice stopped him at the foot of the stairs. “Mr. Bridges?” He heard a catch in her throat.
Jake turned. “Yes?”
Her words came out in a rush. “I’d like to speak with you alone.”
His head shot up and a light eyebrow cocked upward. She returned his gaze, a determined glint in the eyes that stared unblinkingly back at him. Her hand gently stroked the little girl’s hair.
“I’m not sure alone is a very good idea,” Mrs. Frontz announced.
Jake nodded and handed the bags to Will, who juggled them but continued up the stairs. He looked to the older woman. Jake knew Mrs. Frontz meant well, but from the determined look on Mrs. Hollister’s face, Jake felt he needed to hear her out. “We’ll be over by the fireplace, Mrs. Frontz. If you don’t mind taking care of the child for a moment, I’m interested in Miss Hollister’s business with me.” He walked toward the big overstuffed chair that sat beside the fireplace.
Mrs. Hollister looked to Mrs. Frontz, who simply shrugged her approval. Leah placed her napkin on the table. “Thank you for watching Molly. I promise this won’t take long.”
Jake leaned against the rocks of the fireplace and waited. He couldn’t help but be curious. What could she possibly want to talk to him about? They were strangers.
Her soft skirts swished across the wood floors. Leah Hollister was a beautiful woman. She held herself with regal grace as she approached him but her sea-blue eyes betrayed the unease she felt. She was probably the most eye-catching woman he’d ever seen. How long would she be staying?
For a moment he allowed himself to imagine what marrying a woman like her would be like. He pushed the thought away. Jake had no business thinking about women, period. He’d decided a long time ago to keep his distance from them. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the fairer sex, but he’d learned from past experience that they couldn’t be trusted.
Today should have been his wedding anniversary. Instead his brother, John, was celebrating his own marriage. Five years ago, his brother and Jake’s fiancée, Sally, had ripped his heart out. The betrayal had been almost more than he could bear. An hour before they were to meet at the church for Sally and Jake’s wedding, Sally had arrived at the Bridges’ farm. She had stood with her head down, not looking him in the eyes, while his older brother wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders and confessed that they’d married that morning in the wee hours of dawn.
Hurt by his brother’s betrayal and the loss of Sally’s love, Jake had taken the bag he’d packed for his honeymoon and left. Since his parents had already moved on to be with the Lord, he knew John and Sally would take over the small farm. There was no place for him there any longer. He’d not looked back, except once a year to reflect on the pain his heart had endured and to vow never to allow another woman into it again.
Maybe he was a fool, but Jake had taken the time to write his brother and tell him where he’d landed over the years. Jake had asked that they not write back unless he was truly needed and John had abided by his request.
Jake had determined in his heart that he’d never fall in love again. It hurt too much when the one you loved betrayed you.
Once she was seated, Leah spoke, pulling him from his sad thoughts. “Please, Mr. Bridges, sit down. I really don’t want to crane my neck to speak to you.”
She seemed to have the upper hand in the conversation, so Jake did as she asked. He sat down on the footstool with his back turned away from the dining table where Mrs. Frontz and Molly waited. He could hear the older woman speaking to the child. Jake turned his attention to Leah. “All right, I’m sitting. What is it you have to say to me?”
Leah dug into the pocket of her dress and pulled out an envelope. He watched her swallow as she looked down at the cream-colored paper. “I think it would be best if I just give this to you. Then you can ask me any questions you’d like.”
He nodded his agreement and took the packet. Dread filled him as he turned it over. To: Jake Bridges. From: John Bridges was written across the front of the envelope.
What could his brother have to say that hadn’t been said the day he’d left? He’d claimed to love Sally and couldn’t live without her. He’d begged Jake to understand and asked him to reconsider leaving. But none of that mattered. John and Sally had betrayed him and he couldn’t face them, not yet, maybe never.
But why had John sent a letter with a complete stranger? He looked up at Leah Hollister. He saw sorrow in her eyes and a deeper sense of dread filled him as he slid his finger under the sealed flap and opened the envelope.
He forced his gaze from her eyes and focused on the letter.
Dear Jake,
By the time you get this letter I will be dead. Sally passed away last night and the illness that took her has now consumed me, as well. I am writing this letter in hopes that you have forgiven us by now and that you will not hold our daughter, Molly, accountable for the harm that we did to you. Please take care of my daughter and love her as if she were your own.
John
More lines had been added below John’s signature but Jake couldn’t bring himself to read them, not yet. He stood and walked to the fireplace. He was thankful Miss Hollister didn’t say anything as he passed her.
As surely as if someone had closed their hand about his throat, he felt the air squeeze from his lungs. Time had passed and with it the life of his brother. Never would Jake be able to make amends. He felt hot tears burn the backs of his eyes at what he’d lost and what his stubborn pride had cost him.
That same pride forced him to read the elegantly printed lines below his brother’s. He flicked the paper open once more and continued reading.
Mr. Bridges,
Your brother passed away a few weeks ago. I am sorry for your loss. We will be sending his daughter to you since there is no room for another child at the orphanage and you are her only remaining relative that we can locate. It is our fondest hope that Molly will find her voice and happiness with you. Mr. Johnson, the bank president, has requested you contact him in regard to your farm.
Mrs. Wilkins, Sweetwater, Texas.
Jake swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d lost his brother and was about to become guardian to a niece that he’d met for the first time moments ago. If he understood the letter correctly, Molly also didn’t speak. His throat felt dry, his eyes stung. His heart broke again.
He stood and leaned his forehead against the cool rocks of the fireplace and grieved. Lord, what am I going to do? I have no room for a child. No place to keep her. I’m not sure I can do this.
