Everett

by Christine Sterling

  Everett clenched his jaw.

  He couldn’t believe that she dumped a bowl of soup on his lap. Granted, the bowl was nearly empty and had cooled enough not to burn him through his wool pants, but still. He picked up the bowl and placed it gently on the table.

  Alice held her hand to her mouth, trying to muffle her laughter. He was already annoyed with his sister for what happened at the Hartman’s. He wanted to call her out for laughing, especially after the lecture he gave her on the ride home. Instead, he bit the inside of his cheek. He would deal with her later.

  Wiping off as much of the soup as he could with his napkin, Everett picked up the bowl. He walked over to the sink where Polly was scraping scraps into a bucket and dropping the dishes into soapy water. He stood as close as he could to her back without touching her. Two could play this game.

  Polly flinched as his arm reached around her. As he leaned closer, he inhaled the scent of her floral soap and rose water that she must have dabbed behind each ear. It was intoxicating and Everett wanted to pick her up and carry her out of the house. Instead, he put his lips close to her ear and whispered, “You forgot one.”

  Polly turned her head, her blue eyes flashing at his. He was close enough to kiss her. All he would need to do is bend down slightly and his lips could brush hers. He wondered if her lips were firm or soft. They looked incredibly soft. Her lips opened slightly, and he saw her breath quicken.

  She wasn’t as unaffected as she seemed. Everett tucked that thought away. He raised his hand to touch her arm when he heard Owen call to him from the table.

  “You taking up dishwashing, Ev?”

  Everett quickly dropped his hand and turned on his heel. “I need to get to the barn,” he said. He picked up his hat and an apple from the bucket by the door and walked towards the door. With a glance over his shoulder, he saw Polly watching him walk away. Her eyes were large, and her lips were puffy as if she had bitten them. Giving a silent groan, he pushed open the door and walked out into the night air.

  The temperature had dropped. Everett shivered and ran his hands up and down his arms to keep warm. He thought about going back inside to grab his coat, but he didn’t think he could be there right now. The tension was stifling.

  He walked over to the barn and slid in through the large door. It was partially closed to keep most of the cold out. He loved the barn, with the sounds of the animals and the smell of hay and leather. He walked over to Shadow’s pen. Giving a soft nicker, the horse put her head over the railing and motioned for Everett to pet her. Everett quickly obliged. The horse must have caught the scent of the apple in his pocket as Shadow’s velvet lips brushed his shirt.

  “You know what’s in there, don’t you?” Everett said softly. He pulled out the apple and held it out to the horse. Shadow gave a little squeal and large teeth took a bite from the apple. “Hey now,” Everett lightly admonished, petting the horse on the muzzle. “Don’t eat my fingers.”

  The horse chewed happily and then returned for another bite. Soon there was nothing left of the apple except a few pieces that had fallen to the floor. Shadow lowered her head, moving the hay aside to find the last of her treat.

  Horses, Everett understood. Women? Not so much.

  He heard footsteps in the barn. The sound was much lighter than any of the men walking. Everett turned and Polly was standing there with a plate in her hands. She hadn’t put on a wrap and her cheeks were light red from walking in the cold.

  “You shouldn’t be out here without a wrap,” he said softly.

  “I didn’t realize how far it was to get here. It looks much closer to the house.”

  Everett didn’t say anything for a moment. He looked at the plate in Polly’s hands. It looked like a pile of cream on the plate. “What’s that.”

  Polly remembered she was carrying the plate and walked it over to the workbench. She moved aside strips of leather and several picks, placing the plate on the counter. “I brought you a piece of cake,” she said softly.

  “Didn’t you say I had already had my share?”

  Polly clasped her hands and moved closer. “I appreciate you taking the middle and not the sides. It made it easier to hide.”

  Everett chuckled.

  “What do you want, Polly?”

  “Is this your horse?” Everett nodded. “Is it the same one I rode on the day I arrived?” Everett nodded once more. “May I touch him?”

  “It’s a she.” Shadow snickered as if she understood what Everett was saying.

  “That’s right.” Polly moved closer and hesitantly held out her hand. The horse sniffed it with large lips and then tried to nibble her fingers. Polly squealed and jumped back.

  “That tickled,” she said laughing nervously. “I’ve never been around large animals before.”

  “Didn’t you have horses in Atlanta?”

  “Only for pulling the carriage. And there was a manservant who took care of them.”

  Manservant. She had a manservant. Her family must be very well-to-do.

  She reached out her hand once more and Shadow peeled back her lips, showing strong teeth. She tried to nip Polly once more and then gave a whinny, tossing her mane as if it was a game.

  “Shadow is just seeing if you taste good.”

  “I’m not a treat for her.”

  “Horses are very smart. She probably would have realized you aren’t sweet at all.”

  Hurt flashed over Polly’s features.

  “Is that what you think?”

  Everett picked up a brush and started running it down Shadow’s neck.

  He didn’t know what to say.

  He felt her move closer.

  “Everett,” she said breathily.

  Everett turned, his elbow brushing against her arm. She came to about his chin, so she had to lift her eyes to see his face. She was a beautiful woman.

  Polly was unlike the women living here that had been toughened by this harsh land.

  Marmee was beautiful, but the fine features that made her stunning in Boston turned into rugged shadows of what they once were.

  He thought of Ma Hartman, who was also considered beautiful at one time. Living in Nebraska had turned her into a shell, with a face filled with deep grooves in her tanned skin. Bitterness was etched on her face.

  Even Annamae, who nearly died from the fever, was no longer the beautiful young woman Everett remembered. The harsh conditions of living in Flat River had taken a toll on her and she was just over twenty.

  He looked at Polly.

  She was too beautiful to be ruined by Nebraska. Soon she would be headed back to Atlanta and all of this would become a memory. Her visit would become stories to share over tea or recipes to write in the margins of her cookbook.

  He studied her every feature as if burning them into his memory. She had a small mark underneath her eye. Most women would try to hide it with powder, but it suited her. She had deep lines near her cheeks. Marmee called them laugh lines. He could imagine that she laughed quite a bit back in Atlanta.

  He reached his hand up and touched one of the curls brushing her shoulder. It felt soft beneath his fingers. He pulled on it slightly and released. The hair wrapped around his finger, clinging to it in a tight curl. He reluctantly tugged on it again, releasing his finger. He watched the curl bounce several times before moving his eyes back to Polly’s.

  “What do you want, Polly?” Did that hoarse voice belong to him?

  “I… I just wanted to bring you the cake.” She cast her eyes downward. “And to apologize for dropping the soup on you. It was very unbecoming.”

  Everett gave a sharp laugh. “I’m not worried about the soup.”

  Polly moved closer to the pen, placing her foot on the bottom rung. “I’m here to help Ellie with her wedding. I was hoping that we could be kind to each other, at least until then.”

  “You realize she won’t be going home with you?”

  “I knew that from the first day I was here. She is happier than I’ve
ever seen her.”

  “I don’t know what you want from me, Polly?”

  Polly placed her hand on his arm. “I don’t want anything from you. I just don’t want to have any quarrel between us.”

  His chest tightened. “I have no quarrel with you.”

  Polly gave a little smile. “I’m glad then.”

  She looked at him and a smile broke across her face, lighting up her features. Everett leaned down just enough that Polly put her head back. He could see her pulse beating in the side of her neck.

  “Polly,” he whispered just before his lips claimed hers.

  Polly hesitated just a moment before lifting her arms around his neck.

  Everett pulled her closer, tightening his hands around her waist. She sank into his embrace, the hard planes of his muscles enfolding her. Pulling back slightly she took a deep breath and looked at him from beneath hooded eyes. Her lips parted and that was all the invitation Everett needed to kiss her again.

  He held her tight until he felt Shadow nudge his shoulder and heard the barn door sliding open. Polly quickly jumped out of his arms, her cheeks flushed from the kiss and her lips swollen.

  “Your cake is on the table,” she whispered, turning on her heel to run from the barn. “Excuse me,” she said, moving around Sawyer and disappearing into the night.

  “Sorry, boss,” Sawyer said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

  Everett picked up the brush and returned to stroking Shadow’s hide. “You didn’t.”

  Everett tried to make sense of what just happened, but as he thought about Polly, the more confused he became. And then there was the little matter of Annamae. How was he going to explain that to his family?

  When Randall confronted Everett in the field, he was sure that the man was going to shoot him. Randall had a deranged look in his eyes. Instead, Randall insisted that Everett marry the youngest Hartman to protect her reputation. He gave Everett twenty-four hours to decide to do the right thing before Randall would go see the Marshal and have Everett arrested.

  Even though Everett insisted that nothing happened, Randall wouldn’t be swayed.

  Now that he had kissed Polly, Everett realized he didn’t want to kiss anyone else. Ever.

  What should he do?

  Everett needed to find Tot.

  Tot would know exactly what to do.

  Chapter 6

  “I don’t know what to tell you, boy. More coffee?”

  Everett nodded and held out his cup to Tot, who filled it with hot coffee. He refilled his mug and returned the pot to the fire. There were two things you could always count on with Tot. He always had a pot of coffee on the fire, and he was a source of wisdom to many men on the ranch.

  Everett looked at the man who was a second father to him. His full name was Aristotle Wilson, Alice called him Tot, and the name stuck. He was about the same age as Weston Chapman, but his pace was a little slower. Although Tot told stories of his wild youth chasing Indians and pretty girls, he settled into a routine as he grew older. Everett wondered if all those tales he told the cowboys were true.

  Tot’s mother named him after a philosopher she read about in a book. His name was fitting, as Tot was a philosopher himself. He had been on the ranch for as long as Everett could remember.

  Tot simply appeared one day, and even though Everett was a child, he distinctly remembered Marmee embracing the man in a hug and welcoming him to the homestead.

  Even his father clapped Tot several times on the back. When the Homestead Act of 1862 allowed men to claim one-hundred-sixty acres for a small fee, Tot claimed his right next to the Chapman land. Weston Chapman filed claims under his name, as well as the names of his five sons, giving him one of the largest plots in Flat River.

  The Act stated that the land must be cultivated; either through farming or cattle, and a dwelling must be built on it. Tot’s land had a shack along the river. It was used as a hunting cabin when the men would seek wild game during the fall and winter months.

  Tot had no desire to work the land, but he knew that to keep it, the land had to be worked for five years. So, he partnered with Weston. He assumed foreman duties until the oldest Chapman sons could take over.

  Owen and Oliver left home to fight in the Civil War and Michael was killed, so the next in line was Caleb. Tot worked closely with Caleb teaching him everything he knew about cattle and horses. Then he taught Everett the same way. When Everett asked how he knew so much about ranching, Tot simply said from working on various ranches between Missouri to San Francisco.

  Tot didn’t talk much about his past, other than the wild stories he would tell around the campfire, but Everett knew those experiences shaped Tot into the man he was today. Now, he stayed on the ranch cooking for the ranch hands. Tot enjoyed cooking and was appreciative that the men liked eating his vittles.

  Tot cupped his hands around the coffee cup and blew on the steam rising from the cup. Everett did the same.

  “What do you think I should do?”

  Tot sipped his coffee thoughtfully. “Well’un. Her Pa’s mighty mad.”

  “Nothing happened. She fell and I caught her.”

  “But look at it from her Pa’s perspective. He’s already had one daughter run away and then he catches the youngest in a compromising position. It’s too much for a father to bear.”

  “So, you think I should marry her to save face?”

  “Have you asked Annamae what she wants?”

  “I didn’t get a chance to. Mr. Hartman threatened to shoot us if we didn’t leave immediately.”

  Tot scratched his chin, his weathered face sporting the lightest of whiskers. “What were you doing over there anyhow?” Everett sighed. He didn’t know how much to say. “Might as well spill it, boy. Otherwise, it’s going to eat you alive. I know what keepin’ secrets are like.”

  “You have secrets?”

  “We all do. It’s what you do with them. Whatever secret you’re keeping looks like it is bothering you quite a bit.”

  “Alice asked me not to say anything.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  Tot extended his arm, pointing at the land in the dark. “Only ones here are me and the cows.” The light singing of cowboys could be heard in the distance, but they were far enough away from the chuckwagon.

  “Alice wanted to go.”

  “Whatever for?”

  Everett drained his coffee and put the cup on the log next to him. He stretched his boots out towards the fire and thought about what to say. “She said she wanted to see Annamae, but I don’t think that was the reason at all.”

  “Who did she want to see?”

  “Annamae mentioned that Alice was going to marry Chatten.”

  Tot nearly spit his mouthful of coffee on the fire. “Chatten? As in Chat Hartman?”

  “The very same.”

  “Why would she marry a Hartman?”

  Everett let out a deep breath. “I dunno. She won’t say anything other than she’s trying to bring the families together. But I don’t think that is the way to do it. I’m surprised that Alice would even consider marriage, given…” He let the words die off. No sense in reliving Alice’s ordeal.

  “Hmmm.” Tot threw the last bit of his coffee on the fire. The wood crackled as the hot liquid hit the embers. “Well, Alice is her own woman. She’s healing and eventually, she’ll heal enough to say it’s time to move on.”

  “I don’t think Marmee will like that.”

  “I don’t think Ingrid would stand in the way of anything or anyone that makes her children happy.”

  “I guess not.”

  “What about you, Everett? Don’t you think about settling down and having children?”

  “No,” Everett answered quickly. The image of a pretty southern lady flitted through his mind. He knew he could never marry Polly. She’d be headed back to Atlanta right after the wedding. He tried to imagine being married to Annamae Hartman, but
it just wasn’t coming to his mind.

  Sure, she was a pioneer woman, but being married to her? Everett just didn’t see it. Maybe he could talk to Mr. Hartman again.

  “I knew it. You do have your eye on someone.” Tot slapped his knee. “Let me guess. It’s that pretty little girl from Georgia.”

  “She’s not fit for life here in Nebraska.”

  “Ah,” Tot said, the firelight shining on his face. “You didn’t say no. Have you kissed her yet?”

  “What kind of question is that?”

  “You have. Did you like it?”

  “Yes. I mean no.”

  Tot was cackling with glee.

  “Quiet down, old man,” a voice yelled from the darkness.

  “Got back to sleep, Goodie,” Tot yelled back. When he heard light laughter coming from the darkness, he turned back to Everett. “Seems you liked it a little more than you’re letting on.”

  Everett shrugged in the firelight. “I’ve never kissed a girl. It isn’t like there are a lot around here.”

  “Well then, she’s going to be the one you compare every other kiss against. There’s nothing like a first kiss.”

  “Did you compare everyone after your first kiss to that one?”

  “I did. I realized I didn’t want to kiss anyone but her for the rest of my life.”

  “What happened?”

  “She got married, and I’ve not kissed anyone since. Think long and hard, boy, about what you are going to do. Randall Hartman isn’t a man to be trifled with.” Tot waved his hands towards the fire. “Now git. I gotta get some sleep.”

  Everett picked up his coffee cup and tossed it to Tot. “Thanks, old man.”

  “Anytime, son. Anytime.”

  Everett heard Tot moving around in the darkness as he headed towards the house. From his approach, he could see the light on in Alice’s room and used it to guide his steps back to the house. He knew that room was where Ellie and Polly were staying, as it has a larger bed. As he approached the house, he could hear laughter carry through the night. The light was suddenly extinguished, plunging Everett into darkness. He waited a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the dark as he continued walking with Tot’s words repeating in his head.