Charlotte's Challenge

by Caroline Clemmons

  Too late Bret realized what an easy target he was if the unwanted visitor had fired back. What a sorry situation when a man couldn’t enjoy sitting on his own front porch. Whoa, this wasn’t his anything. What was he thinking?

  Disgusted, he went into the house and to the bedroom. He leaned his rifle where it had been between the bed and the lamp table. He admitted he wouldn’t mind living here permanently with Charlotte as his wife. He was stupid to even have the idea pop into his head. Suddenly weary, he lay down and closed his eyes.

  When he woke, he took out his pocket watch. Ten past four o’clock. The family would be back soon. He thought it was time to clean his revolvers and rifle and be prepared for whatever came this way.

  He’d finished and had the rifle propped against the wall when Charlotte came to the bedroom and stretched out her hand. Cupped in her palm was an empty cartridge. “This was on the porch.”

  “There was a prowler.” He explained what had happened.

  “Oh, Bret, this has to stop.” She sank to the chair and held her face in her hands. She didn’t appear to be weeping but clearly she was upset.

  He didn’t know what to do. “I’m sorry if I’ve caused you distress after you’ve been so kind to me. Perhaps you think I shouldn’t have fired at whoever was here. I assure you I had your best interests at heart and didn’t endanger any of your animals.”

  She looked up and her eyes shone with unshed tears. “No, I meant prowlers. Thank you for defending the ranch.” She explained about the man spying on her and the children.

  Her story made his blood boil. He might have amnesia but he knew injustice when he heard it. “That’s too much, Charlotte. Although I’m sure he was entertained, it’s sinister that he was there watching you while someone else was here. That means there’s organized spying going on. I wish we could alert the sheriff.”

  “I will, but I don’t know what he can do. He doesn’t have the manpower to keep watch on the ranch on the off chance that will be the day someone spies or prowls. The sheriff will be by one day soon. Since the rustlers struck, he stops by about once a week or so.”

  “Davie told me the sheriff is going to send a ranch hand this way if a trustworthy one shows up looking for work.”

  “Supposedly but I guess no one has come to him.” She stood but looked so forlorn he wanted to pull her onto his lap.

  What had come over him? Those thoughts were totally inappropriate.

  He said, “Don’t give up hope.”

  “This time of year I reckon everyone has a job who wants one. But you’re right and I’m still hoping at least one man will turn up who will work here. We have a good bunkhouse and plenty of food.”

  “Great food. I can vouch for that.”

  She stood and rubbed her palms on her overalls. “Speaking of food, I’d better get supper on the table.”

  “You have to be exhausted. Don’t you ever give yourself a break and just have… I don’t know, bread and jam or something easy?”

  She offered a weak smile. “I never have but thank you for your kind thoughts. Instead I make stew.” She left and he heard her footsteps recede.

  ***

  The next day Bret stood at the kitchen window. A bank of dark clouds spread on the southwest horizon. He figured they were in for a big storm.

  Davie came in carrying pails of milk. “Two riders coming. One looks like the sheriff.”

  Jimmy and Susie had already carried in a basket of eggs.

  Charlotte exchanged glances with him. “I hope the second rider is a man looking for a job as a ranch hand.” She walked to the door.

  Bret followed her onto the porch. “I have one of my revolvers in my waistband in case there’s trouble.”

  She glanced toward him before training her eyes on the riders. “I have one in my pocket. After recent events, I plan to always keep one with me.”

  “A wise decision.”

  The two men rode to the hitching rail near the porch.

  “Hello, Sheriff Haney. Won’t you come inside?”

  The man wearing a badge got down and came to the porch. “This fellow is looking for a job as a ranch hand. I told him you might be hiring.”

  The second man’s face lit up and he broke out with a wide grin. He climbed down from his horse and rushed to pump Bret’s hand. “Bret Craig, I’ll be hornswoggled. I thought you was on the way to California.”

  Bret stared at him for a long time. Images rushed at him. His head swam and he thought he might throw up. A name sprang to his lips, “Moose? Your name is Moose.”

  “It sure is.” The old cowboy gave him a funny look. “Hey partner, you’re a might peaked. What’s wrong?”

  Bret swallowed the bile in his throat. He turned to Charlotte and patted his chest “I’m Bret Craig. I remember I was on the way to San Francisco when I fell.”

  Charlotte wore an odd expression. “Th-that’s wonderful. I’m glad for you.” She glanced away as if she couldn’t stand to look at him. Addressing the sheriff, she said, “Please, we should go inside.”

  Once they were in the kitchen, she gestured to the table. “Have a seat and I’ll serve coffee. Breakfast is about ready.”

  Davie patted her shoulder. “Susie and I will take care of the coffee while you tell the sheriff about the spy and the prowler.”

  She fried eggs to add to the stack of meat she had on a platter. While she did, she related the previous day’s events.

  Frowning, the sheriff looked at her. “Would you recognize the man who spied on you?”

  She shook her head. “He was in some trees. We couldn’t tell anything about his features.”

  Sheriff Haney turned to Bret. “Would you recognize the prowler?”

  “I didn’t see more than a shadow. After I fired my rifle I heard a horse gallop away. Must have had his horse tied up behind the barn.”

  The sheriff gestured to Moose. “Mrs. Dunn, this man is looking for a job. I always figure a man who comes to the sheriff to ask who’s hiring is honest.”

  Moose still stood and held his hat in both hands. “I’m Moses Tatum but folks call me Moose.”

  Charlotte smiled at him. “You heard about our trouble. If you still want the job, you have it. You can put your gear in the bunkhouse but you’ll eat in here as part of the family.”

  “Thank you, Miz Dunn, I sure appreciate the job. I’m loyal and a hard worker and don’t scare off easy.”

  She gestured to him. “Obviously, you know Bret Craig. These are my children Davie, Susie, and Jimmy. Bret was badly injured when he fell from his horse. He has a gash on the back of his head and has had amnesia until you spoke to him. Now, sit down and let’s eat.”

  Moose took a seat across from Bret. As soon as Charlotte said grace, Moose asked, “If that don’t beat all. I never knowed anyone what had amnesia.” Moose peered at him. “Does it hurt?”

  Bret shook his head slowly. “Head’s still tender but healing. The cut on my noggin sure did hurt at first plus it gave me a terrible headache. I’m lots better now thanks to the excellent care I’ve received here.”

  The sheriff drained his cup then pushed away his plate. “That cloud looked to be carrying rain. I’d better try to beat it to town so I don’t get soaked.” He rose and reached for his hat.

  Charlotte stood. “You’re welcome to wait out the storm with us.”

  “Thank you but my wife will be worried. She’s scared of storms. Living on the upper floor of the jail like we do, storms sure sound loud. Safe as can be there but those big stone blocks create an echo. Thunder sounds like Judgment Day.”

  Charlotte walked with him to the door.

  Davie asked Moose, “Want me to take care of your horse, sir?”

  Moose sent Davie a wide smile. “Real nice of you to offer but maybe you’ll show me where I can put my horse and gear.”

  Jimmy hopped out of his chair. “I’ll show you, too, Mr. Moose.”

  Moose laughed. “No mister to my name, boys, I’m just plain Moose.”<
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  Susie ran after them. “Wait for me, I want to come.”

  Charlotte returned as Moose and the three children left. “I have to say this day is starting off better than yesterday.” She gave him a stiff smile.

  “Having my memory back is a relief. I worried plenty about who and what I was. Good to know I’m not crazy or a criminal or a ne’er do well. I’m not sure what I thought I’d find in San Francisco.” He didn’t mention his memory of his sister and the myth of pirate gold. No use going into all that malarkey.

  “Perhaps the thrill of planning an adventure attracted you.” She drained hot water from the range reservoir and poured it into the dishpan. When she’d shaved in soap, she added some of the dishes.

  He mulled her words a few minutes. Funny, life had seemed fun at the time he was gaming and drinking with his friends. Now that memory rankled. Yet work at the company had bored him. He’d hated being cooped up in an office all day.

  “Guess you’re right about planning an adventure. I hadn’t led an exciting life up until then.” He grinned. “Compared to being here, that is.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Ours has been too exciting lately in my opinion. I’d prefer routine ranch life. I’m not sure we’ll have that, though. Not with someone plotting against us.”

  Her words brought him back to her problems. “You believe this Winfield character is the culprit behind the rustling and shootings?” He rose and picked up a towel and dried a plate. Not too hard. He dried another.

  She smiled at him as if she approved of his efforts. “I have no proof. Disliking someone doesn’t make them guilty of crimes. The sheriff certainly can’t arrest Winfield based on suspicions and my dislike, especially since Winfield’s done a lot for the community.”

  “You need proof, that’s true. I’ll bet you have good instincts, though. I sure didn’t like Winfield. He was really mad when he found out I was staying here.”

  Her eyes widened and she paused. “I-I hope he doesn’t try to retaliate against you.”

  “If he intended to, yesterday would have been an opportune time. Instead, the prowler rode away.”

  “Now I’m so spooked I’m afraid for the children to play outside. Such a shame when they’ve been having so much fun in your tent. But a bullet would easily pierce it.”

  That blasted tent. He recalled he’d said the children could play in it. “Who got that thing set up for them?”

  “The children did it themselves. Davie found the directions. I checked once they’d finished and it looked sturdy enough. It’s so large, I can see how a family might live in one.”

  He hung his head. “That’s the most humiliating thing to happen to me.”

  She paused with her hands in the soapy water. “I’m sorry—did I say something wrong?”

  He exhaled and raised his head. “I might as well confess. The first night after I left home I thought I had the tent set up. A storm came up and the thing collapsed on me. I got soaked to the skin and most of my gear was wet. After I met up with Moose, he said I had pitched the tent too close to the creek and the soil was too soft.”

  She plunged another pan into the water. “Three of them worked together to raise the tent. Also, the part of the yard they chose is nice and level.”

  He offered her a rueful smile. “No need to make excuses to soothe my ego, Charlotte. I have no camping skills. I’ve lived in a city all my life although I dreamed of life in the wild.”

  She grinned. “Like the Missouri Kid?”

  He was embarrassed again. “I guess that’s obvious. You must think I’m foolish.”

  She met his gaze and he saw understanding in her eyes. “Not at all. You were brave to strike out on your own. Well… maybe you were a little foolish, too, but with brave intentions. Most people thought I was crazy to become a mail-order bride but I did anyway.”

  “And it worked out for you?”

  Her expression sobered. “For a while it did. I had a husband, children, and a home. At least I still have my children.”

  “Don’t give up yet. Now you have a ranch hand and I’m about well enough to ride. Moose will show me what to do, so you’ll finally have help. Now that I’m pretty well healed, I’ll move my things to the bunkhouse. I don’t want your reputation to suffer.”

  “Oh, well if you prefer. But won’t you be moving on as soon as you’re healed?” Still stunned at the return of his memory, she hated to think of him moving out of the house.

  He frowned. “I don’t know. Guess I’ll have to think about that.”

  She thought she knew. Soon he’d be leaving, resuming his trip to California. She’d miss him—After all she’d enjoyed his companionship. Certainly that was the only reason, wasn’t it?

  ***

  Bret carried his things to the bunkhouse. He was going to miss seeing Charlotte during the day. At least he’d see her at meals. He regretted thinking women were not capable of rational thought. She was intelligent, industrious, and more than rational. She planned well.

  Moose had placed his few possessions near a bunk with a footlocker at the end. “You mean we’re gonna be bunkin’ together again?”

  Bret looked around the large room. “I think it’ll be better for Charlotte’s reputation. Besides, now that my memory is back, I figured I’d better break ties slowly to the lovely widow and her children.”

  Moose sent him a solemn stare. “You leave here and you’re a durn fool. You got money and she needs it. You like working outdoors and this is the perfect place.”

  Before Bret could answer, Davie came in with a load of Bret’s gear.

  He set the load on the floor. “Mama sent me to help you.”

  Bret nodded. “Appreciate it. Hope finding me didn’t get you in trouble with her.”

  Davie shook his head and grinned. “Naw, she griped at us but it’s all right. We had it coming.”

  Moose asked, “She give you a whipping?”

  Davie rolled his eyes. “She never hits us. Sometimes I wish she would and get the punishment over with.”

  Moose straightened. “What’s she do to discipline you if she doesn’t hit you?”

  “We get extra chores and some of them can be pretty disgusting, like cleaning the pig sty. Ugh, I hate that most even though it has to be done. Other times she’ll make us stay in our room, but that’s not too bad because I can read or play with my stuff.”

  Bret closed the lid of his foot locker. “Doesn’t she ever get really mad?”

  Davie hesitated. “Once, after Papa got shot, she got disgusted because we complained we were gonna have stew again. She said if we didn’t want it we’d take it to someone who would. She made me go hitch the team to the wagon while she loaded up the stew except what she fed Papa and loaves of bread and an apple cake that was for our supper. She also put in a wheel of cheese, jars of milk, and some other things.”

  Bret was curious. “What did she do with them?”

  “We drove to the Wilson family’s place. We take stuff to them pretty often since Mr. Wilson died. When we carried in the food, they had been eating crackers and a tiny bit of cheese. They were sure happy to see what we’d brought. Mama told them not to ever go hungry again because we had pigs and cows and chickens.”

  Moose nodded. “Guess you felt pretty good you could feed them.”

  Davie pulled a face. “Only until we got home. See, we figured she was going to fix us a big supper. Instead, she set out crackers and cheese and glasses of water and told us since we didn’t want what she’d cooked for us and the Wilsons did then we could eat what the Wilson family would have had if we hadn’t given them our food.”

  Bret laughed. “I can see her doing that. What did you do?”

  “What do you think? We ate crackers and cheese and washed it down with water with no complaints.” Davie waved as he left.

  Moose laughed even louder. “Don’t have to remind me not to gripe about the food here.”

  Bret said, “You won’t have any reason to complain. She’s
a good cook and generous with portions.”

  He sat down on his bed lost in thought. Moose insisted he was being a fool to consider leaving. Pondering his actions, he figured he’d been a lot like the kids questioning a filling dinner. Except for losing his folks, he’d had good fortune all his life. He wasn’t satisfied, though, and had to get away at any cost to his sister and aunt and the business.

  No, that wasn’t true. People were taking care of the company. He’d made sure his sister had everything she needed financially. But he’d criticized her for believing the myth about the treasure. What if it was true? Hadn’t he almost died?

  Shoving that thought aside, he glanced around the bunkhouse. It was well constructed, had a fireplace for winter and wide windows for summer. He could be comfortable here.

  Yet he’d hated to leave Charlotte’s home? He’d become used to seeing her throughout the day and evening. Yep, he was still a fool. He had no business mooning over her. She was too fine a woman for a spoiled idiot like him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Several days later, Charlotte wore her overalls. After breakfast they were riding to check on cattle and fences. She was worried about whether or not she should let the children out of the house. Her instinct was to pull them into her arms and protect them.

  That wasn’t possible. They couldn’t live like prisoners. Besides, there were chores that had to be done.

  Moose set down his coffee cup. “Miz Dunn, I can check on things on my lonesome. No need for you or the children to go.”

  Davie reached for another biscuit. “Papa said I’m the man of the family and I have to take care of things. Besides, the ranch is supposed to come to me one day—if we don’t lose it.”

  How it hurt to hear her son say that. Somehow, they had to hold on to this ranch. They owed Ike that much plus it belonged to Davie’s future.

  Charlotte looked at each person around the table. “I simply can’t cower here afraid to leave the house any longer. If Bret would stay here,” she glared at him, “then I could let Susie and Jimmy stay home.”

  Susie shook her head. “Mama, I need to go help. You said we were a team. We have to defend our home.”