Winter's Worth

by Danni Roan

  “You’re gonna be a great ma,” Bruno said again, kissing her just one more time.

  Chapter 18

  Agnes kicked the mule into a fast walk. Bruno had asked her if she could pick up a few things in town for him.

  Janine had woken with a headache and he wanted to see about a few projects he had going.

  The new lambs were also a problem and Bruno was busy with them. It was the wrong time of year for lambs and the young man said he was sure happy to have Atrum to help.

  Pulling her coat tighter against the frigid air she shook her head. This was by far the craziest place she had ever been. It was nice that folks were friendly and helpful but disconcerting as well.

  As she was making the turn toward town another horse came out of the fields and Rock tipped his hat.

  “Mornin’ Mrs. Ratner,” he greeted.

  “Good morning,” Agnes replied. The big man had a special place in her heart for the role he’d played in helping her and her family. She felt beholding to him in some ways since their first meeting. He could have turned her away, or worse reported her for stealing to the sheriff.

  “I’ve been pushing strays down out of the hills the past few days,” Rock picked up the conversation, “but I thought I’d stop in town and pick up a few things today.”

  Agnes smiled. He might be built like a boulder, but the man had a kind heart.

  “I’m in to pick up a few things for Mr. Bruno,” Agnes acknowledged.

  “You doin’ all right out there?”

  Agnes had to smile. “It’s a site easier than keepin’ house in the back of a wagon, and my youngins are happy to sit a spell.”

  Rock nodded then turned his head as his horse pricked its ears nervously as they entered a narrow area between a small grove of trees.

  As Rock pulled rein, the clattering-chug of Mr. Williams’ horseless carriage came bouncing around the corner at break neck speed.

  Agnes’s big mule bulked skittering to the side, colliding with Rock’s steady cow horse who tossed its head and rolled its eyes but stood firm.

  Mr. Williams looked up from where he’d been adjusting the rug over Ruth’s knees, yelling as he jerked the hand control hard left tumbling them into the ditch by the road.

  Rock jumped from his horse and hurried to the wreck.

  “Jasper, Jasper,” he called pulling the overturned conveyance back onto its wheels with a mighty heave and the sound of rending metal. “Jasper, Mrs. Farrow, can you hear me?”

  Beside him Agnes jumped from her mule and hurried around the now upright motor.

  “Ruth, Ruth honey, wake up,” Mr. Williams sniffed. “Please don’t be dead honey,” he wailed.

  “Move aside Mr.” Agnes barked as she placed a hand on Mrs. Farrow’s neck. “Rock you best get my mule hitched to that rattle trap and help me get her into the seat.” She continued.

  Rock jumped to comply while Mr. Williams stood wringing his hands heedless of the trickle of blood running down his brow.

  “She ain’t dead,” Agnes said looking sharply at Jasper. “Good thing this noisy beast can’t go no faster or she might be though.”

  Jasper sniffed. “Please help her.”

  “We’ll take her back to Janine and Bruno’s,” Agnes said. “Rock you ready?” she finished as the big man made his way to her side.

  “I’m ready,” Rock said. “Just tell me what to do.”

  “Help me lift her into the seat then use your rope to hitch my mule up,” Agnes said as together they lifted the limp form of Ruth Farrow to the mangled carriage.

  “Mr. Williams, you sit there and guide the wheel while I pull you home,” she finished nodding to the bent rudder of the automobile.

  “What do you want me to do?” Rock asked snagging the reins of his horse.

  “You ride on into town and fetch the Doc,” Agnes said clattering up the bumper of the car and onto her mule. “You did real good with the rope harness,” she added with a smile urging her mule to lean into the rope and move the horseless carriage, but it didn’t budge.

  Walking to the rear of the contraption Rock reached under the back rim and hefted the whole thing over a buried log.

  “Give it a tug,” he yelled as he leaned his significant bulk into moving the thing.

  As the big mule leaned hard against the rope, the horseless carriage eased forward and began to roll.

  Rock dusted his hands watching as the trio moved down the road, then he climbed into the saddle and slapping his heels to his mount charged off toward town.

  ***

  “She’ll be alright,” Doc Walker said as he finished his examination of Ruth. “Bit of a bump on the old noggin’ but nothing serious.”

  “So she’ll be alright?” Jasper said with a sigh. Francis had been bandaging his head while the Doc had a look at Ruth.

  “Yes, she’ll be fine but probably have a headache when she wakes. I’m leaving Francis here to see to her. He makes a good potion that helps with head pain.”

  “Doc won’t you sit and have a cup of coffee?” Janine asked. “We even have some fresh cookies from yesterday’s baking.”

  “Thank you, I think I will.” Doc said kindly.

  A few moments later he was seated at the table with a rather unconventional group. Rock, the big cow hand sat next to a large black woman who was quietly sipping coffee, while Francis and a lovely young woman of color chatted quietly by the stove.

  “How is she?” the older woman asked. “I hope it’s not serious.”

  “No, no,” Doc said taking a seat. “She’ll be alright.”

  Janine hurried to the stove to pour a cup of coffee for the doctor then took a seat next to Bruno, slipping her hand in his.

  “Is Daddy sitting with her now?” she asked.

  “I think so,” Doc replied. “He feels rotten about the whole thing. I think it will be a long time before he’s interested in taking that monstrosity out on the road again.

  Bruno smiled. “I think he might get rid of it all together.”

  Silence seemed to settle over the table and only the soft sibilant sounds of the two youths whispering fluttered over the kitchen.

  “Well, I’d best get on about my errands now,” Rock said after a few moments. “Now that we know Mrs. Farrow will be alright.”

  “I’ll ride along with you,” Doc Walker said gulping down his coffee and grabbing a cookie for the road. “We’d best send someone out to let Lucinda know as well,” he added. “I think Mrs. Farrow should stay put for a day or two.”

  “Thank you again, Doc,” Bruno said rising and walking them to the door. “I’m just relieved that everyone will be alright.

  Chapter 19

  “Oh it was terrifying,” Mrs. Farrow said as the children gathered around her at the Sparak place. “I’m so glad that Agnes was there to help out,” she added with a kind smile. “That woman saved my life.”

  Agnes shook her head. Mrs. Farrow did have a dramatic flair and the way her daughter was fussing over her and Martha too it was obvious she was used to getting her own way.

  “I’m glad you aren’t killeded Gramma,” Sasha said patting Ruth’s hand.

  “Well it was a near thing,” Mrs. Farrow pronounced, then faltered as bright tears filled her granddaughter’s eyes. “Oh, now don’t you worry,” she amended. “Your old Gramma’s going to be around a long time.”

  Sasha’s quick smile returned as she kissed Ruth on the cheek.

  “Let’s let mother rest now children,” Lucinda said patting her mother’s shoulder. “She’ll be home tomorrow.”

  Soon they were all bundled out of the room with only Martha staying behind. Having been Ruth’s housekeeper for most of her life, old habits were hard to break.

  ***

  “Bruno, Janine, thank you so much for being here for Mother,” Lucinda said as she walked into the crowded parlor. “I’m so glad there was some place for her to come.”

  “Well she’s practically family,” Janine said, “And soon we�
�ll be like sisters,” she finished with a smile.

  “Will that make you my auntie?” Sasha asked looking at Janine.

  “I guess it will,” Janine said with a grin.

  Sasha hurried over to the red-haired woman and gave her a hug. “I keep getting more and more family,” the little girl sighed.

  “Now don’t you worry about your grandmother,” Mr. Williams spoke up. “I have no plans of ever driving that confounded contraption again. From now on it’s a nice safe horse and buggy.”

  The group laughed feeling content that a miss was as good as a mile and that though scraped and bruised both family members were safe.

  ***

  “Thank you for coming with me to collect willow bark,” Francis said as he walked along a small frozen stream.

  “I’m glad I could help,” Matrice replied. She was bundled in her mother’s warm coat with a scarf wrapped around her head and knew she didn’t look her best, but the young brave continued to gaze at her as if she were a fine lady in a fancy dress.

  “I’ll show you how to make the tea for Mrs. Farrow as well,” Francis continued as they approached a cluster of trees and he began to examine the bark.

  “I’d like to know,” Matrice agreed.

  A fallen log blocked their path along the stream and Francis leapt over it lightly making Matrice smile. He was so lithe, trim, and athletic.

  “Let me help you,” Francis said as she was preparing to climb over the big log and before she could protest he was swinging her over the obstacle, skirts flapping, as he pulled her close.

  Matrice looked up into his smoldering eyes and her breath caught in her throat. Francis lips were inches from hers but she was getting lost in the depths of his dark gaze.

  “You know that I like you very good,” Francis said. “You are like the flower and I am the bee,” he continued his words a warm caress. “I cannot seem to stay away.”

  Matrice leaned into the young man’s embrace. He was warm and smelled of the earth and wind. “I don’t want you to,” she whispered. “I like you too.”

  Francis bright smile flashed across his face and a twinkle filled his eyes. She could see that he was attracted to her, but other than his strong hands on her waist he made no move to kiss her.

  “I do not want to cause you trouble,” Francis continued. “I do not know how your people acknowledge these things.”

  Matrice blinked trying to understand what he meant, but her brain felt fuzzy.

  “Do I speak to your mother? Will I have to wait until you father returns from his work? Do I simply ask you and find the brother-father of this town to make you mine?”

  Matrice leaned back her eyes wide. “You mean you want to court me?”

  “What is this?” Francis said. “I do not know this word.”

  Matrice smiled and stepped out of his embrace then taking his hand pulled them both down to sit on the snow covered log.

  “Courting is when a young man is interested in a young woman and plans to see if they would get on together well enough to be married.”

  “Yes,” Francis said his smile returning, “I wish to court you.”

  Matrice scowled. With her father gone did that mean that Francis should speak to her mother? Who would be their chaperone if they stepped out together? What would people say about a black girl from the south being courted by a young Indian brave?

  “I don’t know what we should do next?” she admitted. “With our,” she hesitated a moment turning his hand in hers and studying the contrasting color, “differences it could be complicated.”

  “In my small village, there are people from different tribes who have decided to be together,” Francis said. “The father-brothers do not have a problem with this.”

  Matrice smiled. “Perhaps we should speak to the preacher and ask him if there will be troubles for us,” she suggested.

  Francis nodded. “It is a good idea. Will you meet me in town later, and we will speak to him?”

  “I can’t do it today, but perhaps later this week. I might be able to persuade mother into coming to services on Sunday.”

  “Then I will meet you at the church on Sunday.” Francis said rising and pulling her with him. “Now we finish our job before someone comes looking for us.” He smiled tugging her along by the hand, and Matrices’ heart seemed to grow half a size bigger.

  Chapter 20

  “Polly, do you have any other boxes to send?” George called as he hurried down the hall. “I’m not making two trips. The weather’s turning and it’s going to be mighty ugly out there soon.”

  “Has it started to snow already?” Polly called over her shoulder from the stove.

  “Yes, and Byron swears we’re going to get a blizzard soon.”

  “Oh, my!” Polly turned to look at her husband. “Well you’d better take everything and see that it gets on the morning train,” she agreed hurrying toward the parlor. “I only have a few more things to send the children.”

  George followed Polly to the parlor where a stack of boxes sat along one wall.

  “You do realize that we’ll get around to seeing them all at some point don’t you?” George grumbled running his hand through his hair. “You don’t need to send them gifts every other month”

  Behind him he heard Becky chuckle as she dusted the office.

  “I know,” Polly said fluttering her hands at him. “I just don’t want those little ones to forget who we are.”

  George leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek. “You’re such an old softy,” he chided.

  “I’ll help you move these,” Rebecca Gatlin said stepping into the room behind the older couple. “Do you have the cart?’ she smiled at George.

  “Yes, that’s the best investment I’ve ever made,” George grinned. “Nothing like a hand cart to make your life easier hauling bags to and from the depot.”

  “I remember,” Becky teased thinking of her own arrival in Biders Clump not so long ago. She was certainly happy she’d accepted the offer to come and work for Polly Esther. Her whole world had been turned around.

  “You think you and Grady will travel again this summer?” George asked as together they hauled the packages outside, while Polly hurried back to her cooking.

  “I don’t know,” Becky said. “We did have a nice visit with my parents last year though,” she finished.

  George chuckled. He knew that Becky’s relationship with her mother was strained but that was the nature of things in life.

  As they placed the last parcel on the top of the stack George looked up to see Tywyn amble along the street on his big pinto.

  “Mind your fingers and toes,” he whispered to Becky. “Chip there’ll snap ‘em off soon as look at you.”

  Becky smiled. “I think I’ll just go inside then where it’s warm,” she said ducking back through the door.

  “Where are you headed Ty?” George called as he started pushing the hand cart along the boardwalk, keeping a safe distance from the former lawman’s horse.

  “The livery,” Ty called. “I wanted to get into town before the snow flies and pick up a few things for Jill and Aaron.”

  “Well you keep that brute to your side of the street then,” George advised. “I like my back pockets exactly where they are.”

  Ty laughed. “Chip hasn’t got a hold of any britches since that red-headed shyster we sent up the river. I reckon he’s due to try.”

  George laughed and the placid looking horse laid back its ears, snaking his head toward the railing and giving a snap.

  “I think I’d better get out of the street,” Ty said kicking his horse into a ground eating trot and waving his good-bye.

  “Confounded critter,” George grumbled. “Reckon he’s better than a mama bear guarding her cubs when it comes to Jill and Aaron, but the rest of us are lucky we aren’t torn to bits like the Gingham Dog and the Calico Cat.”

  A loaded buckboard trotted down the street toward the church full of all sorts of frippery and George
grinned. He’d never admit it but he liked a good wedding.

  Jasper and Mrs. Farrow’s wedding was slated to be the to-do of the year, and after their unfortunate accident they’d decided not to put it off until spring but to have the wedding sooner.

  “You lookin’ forward to the big day?” Mr. Stokely asked as George trundled up to the station to have his packages stamped and shipped.

  “I am,” George confessed. “Don’t you tell now, but I love when Polly starts cookin’ for a big shindig.” George leaned in close to the clerk’s window his dark eyes bright. “I get to sample everything.”

  Mr. Stokley laughed. “You’re a lucky man George Olson.”

  “That I am.”

  ***

  “Mother did you have to have such a full bustle?” Lucinda asked as she pulled and pleated the back of her mother’s wedding dress. “Most woman are making the change to the long corset now and don’t need nearly as full a bustle.”

  “You young woman can do as you please,” Mrs. Farrow chided sternly, “but I’m not giving up my bustle and at my age I need a little help in that area to balance things out anyway.” She jutted her amply bosomed chest forward making her point.

  Lucinda shook her head but didn’t argue. Her mother’s figure had rounded somewhat over the years but with her corset pulled tight she made quite the striking figure.

  Ruth had been a beautiful woman in her youth and her attention to fashion and beauty had helped her keep her looks all through the years.

  “Don’t you look lovely?” Martha asked as she finished smoothing the wide hat covered in lace flowers. “Rose always did suit your coloring.”

  “You’re such a dear Martha,” Ruth said as she brushed an imaginary speck of lint from the satin skirt, her slightly puffed long sleeves seeming to breathe as she moved.

  “I think the bustle is fitting as well,” Martha continued as she made a circuit of the dress. “Three tiers of ruffs down the back seem just right.”

  Lucinda bit her lip trying not to laugh as Martha humored her mother. It had always been like that and though at times her mother could drive her right around the bend, Lucinda loved her.