Charlotte's Challenge

by Caroline Clemmons

  She looked almost as surprised as the man facing her. Another man sat on his horse nearby.

  The man facing Charlotte scowled. “Who are you?”

  “A friend of the family and you must be Winfield.”

  Charlotte glared at the man. “Mr. Winfield was just leaving.”

  Winfield pointed at Bret. “I still don’t know who you are, mister.”

  “I don’t see that it’s any of your business, mister. I believe Charlotte said you were leaving.” He cocked his rifle and leveled it at Winfield. “You on the horse, don’t draw or you’re a dead man. In fact, I believe you’re both trespassing and I can shoot you without worry.”

  “You’ll regret this. I’ll talk to you another time, Mrs. Dunn.”

  “Not everyone is for sale, Mr. Winfield.”

  The man mounted his horse and after a glare at Bret, he galloped away with his friend following.

  Davie cheered. “You did it, Mr. Craig, you scared him off.”

  “Mrs. Dunn, I beg your pardon for addressing you by your given name. It seemed best under the circumstances. Now, I believe I’d better sit down somewhere.”

  She rushed to his side. “Let me help you. Put your arm over my shoulder so I can help support you. Davie, tend to the rifle and remember it’s been cocked.” She guided Bret inside the house.

  His legs threatened to give way. “Perhaps we could stop and rest a moment.”

  “If you can make it into the kitchen you can sit at the table. Our lunch is almost ready.”

  He was never so glad to see a chair. At least he didn’t believe he was. “Why was he here this time and what upset you so?”

  “It’s almost laughable.” When she looked up, anger sparked in her eyes. “If you can believe the nerve, he came to propose to me.”

  “I thought you said you were a recent widow.”

  “I am. He said he knew I didn’t want to lose the ranch and if we married I could share all the land. He even agreed to let me bring the children.” She appeared angrier. “Of course Davie and Susie would have to go to boarding school. He graciously said Jimmy wouldn’t have to go away until he was a year older.”

  Bret looked where Davie had stood his rifle. “I wish I’d shot him.”

  “I wouldn’t mourn him but it would mean trouble for you.” She stirred a saucepan on the range.

  “Who was that with him?”

  She removed a pan containing a nicely browned hen from the oven. “His so-called foreman, Fred Arp. I suspect his real job is taking care of Winfield’s dirty business.”

  Davie’s hands fisted. “I’ll bet he’s the one who shot Papa.”

  She stopped her meal preparations and laid a hand on Davie’s shoulder. “We’ll never know, son. We can’t accuse anyone without proof.” She went back to the range. “Of course this is all conjecture on my part. As I mentioned, most people think he hung the moon.”

  “What makes them think that?”

  “He donated money to buy more school books and made a large donation toward a new organ for the church. Apparently he is always willing to donate a few dollars for any worthy cause.”

  “I see—he’s generous in public and devious in private.”

  She glanced his way. “You understand why I can’t simply accuse him.”

  “Say, I don’t know anything about ranching, but maybe I can stay around a little while and do my best to help.”

  He looked at Davie. “I’ll bet you could teach me what to do.”

  Davie’s grim expression fled and he grinned at that request. “I could, couldn’t I, Mama?”

  “Mr. Craig, I appreciate your offer more than I can say. You aren’t trying anything that strenuous until you’ve recovered. You’re a brave man. I know you were barely able to face those men but you didn’t show it to them. All the same, I felt you weakening while we walked in here.”

  “I’m glad I was of service. Perhaps as I’m up a bit more each day I’ll soon be good as new. Maybe my memory will return.”

  “For your sake, I hope that’s true.”

  She set a bowl of green beans on the table then transferred the hen to a platter and set it beside the green beans. A fresh loaf of bread waited on a cutting board. From another pan, she scooped ears of boiled corn.

  Taking off her apron, she smiled. “I believe we’re ready to eat.”

  Davie carried the coffee pot. “I’ll fill your cups then get the others.”

  He set the coffee pot on the range and rang a bell. Susie and Jimmy came running inside. Davie poured milk for them.

  Charlotte pointed at them. “Wash your hands.”

  They went to the kitchen sink and washed their hands before they sat at the table. Bret had never seen faster cleansing and suspected they’d missed most of the dirt. Their mother was too upset to pass judgment but she said a blessing.

  After the meal, Charlotte insisted he go have a nap. He was too fatigued to argue. She helped him walk to the bedroom. Once she’d tucked him in as if he were a child, she stepped back.

  “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you did for me with Mr. Winfield. That man upset me so much I was about to cry. I’d rather die than let him see me cry.”

  “I’m afraid you haven’t heard the last from him, Mrs. Dunn. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

  “Please, from now on call me Charlotte. If you don’t mind, I’ll call you Bret. It may not be strictly proper but under the circumstances I think we should skip that formality.”

  “Thank you, Charlotte.”

  He drifted to sleep again. When he woke, he remembered the money he’d found. He hadn’t gone through all the bundles.

  Slowly, he sat up. After reaching for another bundle, he opened it. More money was inside. Almost franticly he went through each container. He found shaving supplies and remembered he needed a shave.

  One contained a brush and comb and bay rum. A small box contained scissors, needles, and thread. He’d bet his sister had slipped that in. A larger box held a few medical items.

  An oiled cloth bag held bars of soap and a bath sponge. A lap desk held writing paper, pens, and ink. Two contained more money.

  He found a stack of dime novels, at least two dozen of them. Most appeared to be about someone called the Missouri Kid. Davie would probably like to read those.

  Looking at the lap desk, he decided he should write his sister and let her know where he was and what had happened. Since she was his heir in his will, they must be close. She might be worried about him. Sure, he’d write her tonight.

  In the meantime, he counted what he’d found and was astounded. What had he been thinking to carry this much around in cash? If anyone suspected he had it he would have been robbed and killed.

  Knowing that, he wondered what kind of person he’d been. Maybe the fall that had given him amnesia had also knocked some sense into his head. He tucked all the cash he’d found into his saddlebags.

  Had he stolen the money? He didn’t have the feeling he was a crook. Besides, he and his sister owned a business in Fort Worth. Maybe they were wealthy. Maybe the big house in the fog of his memory was where they lived.

  He had a lot of thinking and evaluating to do.

  Chapter Eleven

  Four days later, Charlotte tidied the house while Susie and Jimmy did the breakfast dishes. She could have done them in half the time but she believed giving children chores built their character and independence. Other than occasional bickering like any siblings, her children handled their chores well.

  When she heard a buggy drive up to the house, she went to the front door. Davie peeked from the barn where he was mucking out stalls but went back to his job.

  Charlotte opened the door for Doctor Ross. “Hello, how nice to see you. Looks like a lovely day for a drive.”

  He smiled. “Would be nicer if I hadn’t been up all night delivering the Fishers’ baby. Happy to say mother and infant are doing well and father will survive.”

  Laughing at his atte
mpt of humor, she escorted him toward the bedroom. “Girl or boy?”

  “Another boy. Helen said she’s giving up on ever getting a girl.”

  “I’ll let you check the patient in privacy. He seems to be recovering but still has no memory.”

  ***

  Bret heard the doctor and Charlotte approaching. He was glad to be up and sitting in the chair for this visit. He wasn’t keen on the fact he wore Ike Dunn’s clothes but at least they fit.

  The doctor was cheerful in spite of appearing exhausted. “Good to see you sitting up, young fellow. How are you feeling?”

  “Much better. Head still aches but I’m not dizzy unless I move too quickly.”

  “Let me check those stitches.” The doctor removed the bandages. “That looks good. I believe you can leave off the bandages now.”

  “How about working around the ranch to help?”

  The doctor shook his head. “You’re pushing too fast. Don’t get overheated and don’t over-exert. You don’t seem to realize how dangerous your injury was.”

  Bret held up a hand. “Mrs. Dunn said I could have died. Except for a headache, I feel all right most of the time. And I feel like a freeloader.”

  “Most of the time?” The doctor held up his index finger. “Follow my finger with your eyes. You see, you must take care or you could go blind or have a seizure or some other bad result. Your wanting to help Charlotte is admirable. Frankly, she needs all the help she can get and then some. Causing harm to yourself won’t help anyone.”

  “I understand your point. Do you know about that Winfield fellow pestering her?”

  Dr. Ross appeared uncomfortable. “I’d… um, I heard he wants this ranch.”

  “You a friend of his?” Bret asked.

  The doctor shook his head slowly. “I try not to take sides on anything no matter my private opinion. I have to admit Charlotte has my loyalty. What’s Winfield done now?”

  Bret told the doctor about Winfield’s insulting proposal.

  Dr. Ross slapped his knee. “Ship off the children to boarding school? Preposterous to think she’d ever agree to that.”

  “He’ll be back and I have to be strong enough to face him—or his henchmen.”

  The doctor pointed an index finger at him again. “I can’t stress this enough. Limit your activity. Increase gradually, a little more each day.”

  The sight of the letter on the bedside table reminded Bret to ask, “Say, if I give you the money, could I impose on you to mail a letter for me?”

  “You remembered who your family is?”

  “Not yet. Found papers in my saddlebags that list my sister’s name and address. Figure I’d better let her know where I am and that I’m okay even if I can’t remember her.”

  “I’ll be happy to post it for you. I imagine she’ll be relieved to hear from you.”

  “How much do I owe you for your treatment?”

  Dr. Ross mulled over the question a few seconds. “Three dollars, but if that’s more than you can afford I’ll barter or you can skip payment.”

  “I feel like I pay my way. I figured your charge would be more so I had this ready for you. Please accept it to make up for those who can’t pay.” He gave the doctor ten dollars.

  The doctor looked at the money before pocketing the cash. “Very generous, Mr. Craig. Small town doctors don’t often see much cash. Many country folks pay in hens or produce and such.”

  Dr. Ross stood and put the letter in his medical bag. “I’ll post your letter today. Let me know if you have a problem. I’m eager to get home and, hopefully, to bed for at least a nap. Glad my horse knows the way.”

  ***

  Charlotte rapped on the door before entering with a tray. “I need to get some things to wear. The children and I will be going on the range. I’ve made you this sandwich in case you get hungry before we return. Will you be all right while we’re gone?”

  “Yes, of course. I wish I could help but Dr. Ross was very clear. He scared me a bit with tales of what could happen.”

  She looked through the armoire and drawers and gathered her overalls, shirt, and boots. “He told me the same stories because he suspected you’d be eager to help. We’ll be back by time for supper. We have to check the cattle and make sure they haven’t come to harm.”

  “Surely there must be something I can do here.”

  “Afraid not other than rest and recover. Perhaps you could read. That’s a quiet activity.”

  “Already tried but reading makes my head hurt fiercely.” He made a circular motion with his finger. “I’m sure my eyeballs spin in their sockets.”

  She grinned at him. “Somehow I doubt that. You could sit on the porch if you think that would be more entertaining than staying inside.”

  “Yeah, I do. I’m taking my rifle in case your admirer comes again.”

  “Hey, it’s not me he admires—it’s the ranch.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Something tells me he wants both.”

  She feared the same thing but she had no intention of accepting Winfield’s proposal. “He’s getting neither if I can stop him.”

  She went to Susie’s room and changed into her overalls. When she’d dressed, she wondered if Bret would be as shocked as Ike had been at her attire.

  She stepped just inside the door to his room. “We’ll leave now.”

  There was no mistaking the admiration in his eyes. “Don’t you look cute as a ladybug?”

  Surprised, she looked down at her clothes. “You aren’t shocked?”

  “No, why should I be? You’re appropriately dressed for riding the range. Is Susie similarly attired?”

  “As a matter of fact, she’s wearing a pair of overalls Davie outgrew. Um, some think wearing any kind of pants is unladylike and scandalous.” Some like her late husband, Ike.

  “If you wore that to a reception for the governor then they’d be right. Riding the range in a fancy skirt would also be wrong.”

  “Thank you for understanding. We’ll return in a few hours.”

  Outside, the excited dogs danced around the horses.

  As the four of them rode toward the cattle, Charlotte was amazed that a man with amnesia had more empathy than Ike. Perhaps losing one’s memory wiped away preconceived ideas and prejudices. She wished Ike hadn’t been so critical.

  Ike had seriously hurt her feelings when she was trying her best to take care of him, the children, and the ranch. In her head she knew he was angry at being shot, knowing he was dying, and worrying about the ranch and his children. Yet, in her heart she believed for the same reasons he could have been tender toward her and the children.

  By late afternoon they were done checking on the cattle. Charlotte was satisfied that no more had been stolen. It was time to head home. She waved and called the children to her.

  Jimmy was the first to ride up to her. “Mama, there’s a man watching us from behind those trees.”

  “I saw him. Pretend he isn’t there.”

  He appeared afraid. “Is he gonna shoot us?”

  “No, he’s spying on us. I suppose Mr. Winfield or someone else who wants the ranch sent him.” On a sudden whim, she had a crazy idea. “Let’s do something silly to give him something to report.” She got off her horse and tied the reins to a bush. “Come on, children, join me.”

  Davie tied his horse next to hers. “What are we gonna do? Are you gonna shoot him?”

  “Certainly not. Jimmy, dance with Susie. Davie, partner with me. Let’s do-si-do.” She linked hands with Davie and twirled around as she called moves. Davie laughed and got into the spirit. Soon Susie and Jimmy joined in. The dogs thought it was a game and cavorted with them.

  After five or ten minutes, she swung close to Jimmy. “Now trade and Jimmy dance with me and Davie with Susie.”

  After a lot of laughter and another few minutes, she stopped. “All right, now let’s all join hands and take a big bow toward the spy.”

  When they had, they mounted their horses and headed home.<
br />
  She couldn’t keep from smiling. “Don’t you know we were a sight dancing on the prairie amid the cattle?”

  Davie glared toward the trees. “Serves that man right for spying. On second thought, we probably made his day less boring.”

  “I imagine you’re right. Must be a dreary duty watching others all day.”

  In a few minutes, Davie rode beside her. “Bret—he said I could call him that—let me borrow his books about the Missouri Kid. Some of the things the Kid’s done are amazing.”

  “You know they’re made up and not real?”

  Davie frowned. “Nuh unh. Right on the front it says ‘true adventures’. They couldn’t say that unless it was true, could they?”

  “They would say whatever it took to sell them. You can’t believe advertisements. Look at all the ads that promise miraculous things. If they were all true no one would ever be sick or bald or be too thin or too fat. Enjoy the stories as long as you remember they’re just that.”

  Davie grinned. “I’m glad you don’t care if I read them. They’re exciting.”

  Charlotte thought reading was good for him even if the material was less than ideal. He was sharpening his imagination and reading ability. All the same, she planned to look through one of the books when they got home to see exactly what they contained.

  Chapter Twelve

  Bret took his sandwich and rifle to the porch and sat in a chair. The day was perfect with bright blue sky and only enough breeze to cool him. He’d finished his lunch and was about to doze in the chair when shadowy movement caught his attention.

  He froze but watched the shape slip out of the barn and around the corner between the barn and pig sty. Some lowdown skunk was prowling around. Acting like he was stretching, Bret latched on to his rifle. Swiftly he leveled it, cocked it, and fired.

  He’d known he wouldn’t hit anything but he figured he’d given some polecat a scare. Within seconds he heard the sound of a horse galloping but couldn’t spot the animal or rider. Might give someone second thoughts before he came prowling again.