Pony Express Special Delivery

by Rhonda Gibson

Clayton turned back around. He’d known Maggie only two days and already he cared about her and the children. Not in a romantic way but in the way a friend would care for another friend. He made quick work of the dirty dishes and put the last one in the drainer to dry.

  When he turned again, Maggie and the baby were asleep. Her face had softened in sleep, and she looked very young. Clayton felt a surge of protection for her and the child. He hated that Gus was using his status as a relative of her husband’s to bully the young widow. If all Dinah had told him was true, there was no doubt in his mind that that was exactly what the other man was doing. Still, it was none of his business. His job was to keep the Pony Express moving, and he intended to do just that.

  As if she sensed his gaze upon her, Maggie stirred. Her hazel-green eyes opened slowly. She looked up at him. “I’m sorry, I dozed off.”

  Clayton was thankful that she felt comfortable enough with him to fall asleep in his presence. “Nonsense. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

  She groaned as she balanced the baby and stood. “I guess I should get my family to bed. Tomorrow will come soon enough.”

  He nodded. “I agree.” Clayton laid the dish towel to the side and took the dirty water to the back door where he tossed it into the yard.

  “Thank you for—” she looked about the kitchen, then focused on his face once more “—everything.”

  “It was my pleasure.” Clayton returned the dishpan to its place and then asked, “Do you need help getting up the stairs?”

  She shook her head. “No, you’ve done plenty. I’ll just bolt the door after you.”

  Clayton nodded. He stopped by the door to slip into his coat. “If you need anything, call out or send Dinah and I’ll come runnin’.”

  Maggie followed him slowly. “I will.”

  He opened the door and grinned at her. “See that you do.”

  At her nod, Clayton turned and walked off the porch. He stopped just off it and listened until he heard the wooden beam fall across the door.

  The full moon lit the yard, making it easier for him to find his way to the barn. He pulled the big door open and entered. The smells of hay and horseflesh filled his nostrils.

  He walked to the back room that was to be his new home.

  It was small with a cot and table. The cot had a homespun quilt on the top and a pillow of sorts. The table was low to the ground and had a small mirror over the top. A washbasin rested in the middle of it, and he noted several nails filled the back wall.

  His bundle of clothes rested on the cot where he’d thrown them the night before. Clayton saw the potbellied stove and a small rack of wood beside it. He made his way to the stove and began making a fire. The coldness in the air hinted that winter wasn’t finished with the ranch just yet.

  After starting the fire, he opened the bundle of clothes and hung up his pants and shirts. One nail was bigger than the others, so he took off his coat and hung it on that nail. His extra pair of long johns, he folded and placed on the far end of the table. He set his razor and comb beside the washbasin. Lastly, he pulled out the small Bible that Seth, his adoptive father, had given him and laid it on the bed.

  Clayton sat down on the edge of the bed. In the last forty-eight hours, he’d delivered a baby, comforted a little girl, and became friends with the local doctor and the young widow woman.

  He’d decided he disliked Gus Fillmore almost the moment he’d met him. Gus had seemed arrogant and uncaring. By confronting Maggie when she was weak from having the baby, Gus had shown his greed for the ranch.

  Clayton decided he’d protect Maggie and her small family from Gus and his greed. How was he going to do it, though? He had no proof that Gus meant Maggie any harm, but something in his gut said that Gus would be more than happy to get rid of the widow and her son as well as sweet Dinah.

  The next morning, Clayton felt as if he’d ridden the Pony Express trail hard. He’d tossed and turned throughout the night as his thoughts turned into nightmares of Gus Fillmore kicking Maggie and the children off the ranch. He went through the morning chores and then met his first Pony Express rider.

  He was a young man with a wild head of curly red hair. From the ledger Bill had left behind, Clayton had learned the boy’s name was Sam and that he was skilled at avoiding the Indians. That was good information for a Pony Express station manager to know.

  “Did you have any trouble?” Clayton asked as they exchanged horses.

  Sam bounded into the saddle. “Nope. Any news from the other direction?”

  “Nope. Safe journeys.” Clayton slapped the horse on the rump and Sam was well on his way to the next station.

  He turned back to the barn with the spent horse. Standing in the doorway was a man who looked to be in his early twenties. Muscles filled his shirt and chest.

  “Mr. Young, would you like for me to take care of the horse for you?”

  Clayton continued to walk the horse toward the man. “You seem to have me at a disadvantage. Seems you know me but I have no idea who you are.” He continued into the barn. It was nice of the stranger to offer to take care of the Pony Express horse, but until he knew whom he was talking to, Clayton wasn’t about to turn over Pony Express property to the man.

  The man followed him into the barn. “I’m sorry. Name’s Hal. I work for Mrs. Fillmore. I usually take care of the horses.” He held out a big beefy hand.

  Clayton took his hand and shook it. “From what I’ve seen you do a good job, Hal.”

  “Much appreciative.” Hal picked up a pitchfork and began tossing fresh hay into the horse’s pen next to the one Clayton and the spent pony stood in.

  Clayton filled a feed sack with oats and hung it over the horse’s stall door. Then he proceeded to brush the animal down as it ate. “Where have you disappeared to the last couple of days?” he asked.

  Hal stopped shoveling and leaned on the fork. “Boss had us fixing fences.”

  “They’re all fixed now?” Clayton continued brushing as if the question he’d asked was of no importance at all. He hoped Hal would talk freely about the running of the ranch. For Maggie’s sake, Clayton prayed all was going well.

  He shrugged. “I reckon. Boss says we are to go back to our regular chores.”

  “I thought you said you worked for Maggie. Who are you calling ‘boss’?” Clayton ran his hands down each of the mustang’s legs.

  He listened as Hal answered. “Oh, I do work for Maggie. At least, she’s the one who pays me. But the real boss is Mr. Fillmore. He gives the orders and does the hiring and firing.”

  “Gus Fillmore?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Clayton continued examining the mustang for any sign of stress on its legs and body. As if talking to himself, he said, “I wonder why everyone can go back to work as usual today.”

  “Probably because the boss had to run into town today. Figured we knew our jobs well enough to get back to them.”

  Clayton stood and brushed the mustang’s back. “How many men work for Mrs. Fillmore?”

  “Just five. Me, Bud, ole George, Abraham and the boss.” He grinned across at Clayton. “Ole George is our cook. He’ll have breakfast ready here in about ten minutes.”

  Clayton hadn’t given much thought to whom he’d eat with. He’d just assumed he’d cook his own meals, but now that he thought about it, there really wasn’t a kitchen in his room, or even a makeshift kitchen.

  “Did Bill eat with you boys or fend for himself?”

  Hal put the fork back against the wall. “Bill didn’t like the boss too much, so Ole George would have me bring him a plate.”

  Clayton nodded. “I see.” He knew that the Pony Express supplied him with food, but he hadn’t received a shipment yet.

  “Would you like to meet the other men or should I bring you a plate later?”
Hal asked as he walked toward the exit.

  Clayton put his brush away and followed him. “I’d like to meet everyone.” If he was going to protect Maggie from Gus, Clayton planned on finding out just how loyal Gus’s men were to him.

  Chapter Four

  A week later, Maggie’s mind was on the ranch. Things had fallen into a routine she could handle as she recuperated from childbirth. Clayton had checked on her and the children every day. He took his meals with the men but seemed ever watchful of the house. Whether his scrutiny was intentional or not, it afforded Maggie with a peace of mind she hadn’t felt in a long time.

  She was having a hard time keeping Dinah out of the barn. Her little sister seemed to adore Clayton. It was all Maggie could do to keep the little girl out of his and the Pony Express riders’ hair. But if she scolded Dinah, Clayton rushed to her defense and assured Maggie that Dinah was no trouble and was not in the way; that he liked having her underfoot.

  Her thoughts returned to the running of the ranch. Gus had been right when he’d said since she had two children to take care of she wouldn’t have time for overseeing the ranch. How was she going to make sure Gus was doing a good job? She wanted to go out and ride the fence lines, but with an infant, that wasn’t going to happen. And her body would never handle riding a horse; at least not the way she felt now. Was this normal? Perhaps she’d ask one of the ladies in town when next she went for supplies. It would be so nice to have another woman’s opinion on the changes that had taken place in her body. She sure couldn’t ask any of the men.

  Maggie felt her frustration grow. Everyday chores were difficult with two children underfoot. Each night she fell into bed exhausted. The doctor had said she should be able to do routine work within a week. He’d also advised her to let Clayton help as much as he wanted.

  Could she do that? Maggie stroked the baby’s tiny hand. She fretted that she didn’t really know Clayton Young. Other than the fact that he’d saved the baby, gone to town to retrieve the doctor and that Dinah liked him, Maggie knew nothing else about the Pony Express man.

  Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Before he’d left, Bill Evers, the previous Pony Express manager, had come up to the house and asked if he could visit with Maggie for a few moments. She’d agreed and offered him coffee and cookies. While the man had eaten almost a full plate of gingersnaps, he’d told her that his replacement was a nice young man who would be a great help around the place.

  Her gaze moved to the window at the front of the house that looked out toward the barn and bunkhouse. So far, Bill had been right. She’d seen Clayton repair a corner of the barn roof, build a small fence around the chicken coop, as well as gather eggs during the last week.

  Maggie frowned. On the other hand, Gus Fillmore neglected most of the chores. He had tried to stake his claim to the ranch the day of Jack’s funeral, but when he’d discovered that Jack had a will and had left the ranch to his unborn child, Gus had stormed off so angry he could spit, but later returned and offered to stay on and help.

  She would have loved to have sent Gus packing as soon as her husband had been buried, but since most of the men had quit and she’d been so sick with her pregnancy, Maggie had allowed her late husband’s cousin to stay on. Now with hindsight she wished she hadn’t.

  Bill, the former Pony Express manager, had warned her to keep a close eye on Gus and the ranch books. Maggie had intended to ask Gus about the ranch ledger, but he’d found reasons to be gone before dawn and back long after she and Dinah had gone to bed. After a while, Maggie had given up on him bringing the ledger to her and planned on going in search of it after the baby was born.

  The day she’d gone into labor, Maggie had been surprised to discover not one of the hired men anywhere near the house when she needed someone to go get the doctor.

  Tears pricked the backs of her eyes at how close she’d come to losing her son. She kissed his soft downy hair, which looked as if it were going to be honey colored, much like her own. The light wisps tickled her lips.

  Maggie hugged him closer. Her love for James far surpassed the realization that if the baby had died, she and Dinah would have possibly been forced by Gus to give up the ranch, as well.

  She watched from the window as a Pony Express rider came thundering into the yard. Clayton met him with a fresh horse and a smile. They exchanged a few quick words, and within moments the rider’s horse raced back onto the trail. Clayton glanced toward the house and then began to return to the barn.

  Impulsively, Maggie hurried to the front door and called out to Clayton. When he looked in her direction, she yelled, “When you are done with the horse, would you come to the house? Please.”

  He nodded, then continued to the barn. In the kitchen, Maggie filled a plate with sugar cookies. She made sure the coffee in the pot was still hot.

  She gazed down into James’s sleeping face. His small features looked more like hers than her late husband’s. Even though they were closed, Maggie knew his eyes were the only thing that resembled his father. They were dark blue, unlike her hazel eyes that often held more green than any other color. She hurried up the stairs and laid him in his dresser drawer. Dinah lay on the bed fast asleep. Maggie usually enjoyed a nap with the children but knew she needed to get out of the habit of sleeping the afternoon away.

  Making sure both children were covered, she walked back down the stairs. She hadn’t spoken more than ten words with Clayton in the last five days but knew that now was the time. After a week of living and eating with the ranchers, he should know how the ranch was being run and could tell her if all was well. At least she hoped he was as observant as his predecessor had been.

  Half an hour later, Clayton knocked on the front door. Maggie hurried to let him in. “Thank you for coming to the house.” She led the way to the kitchen.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked, eyeing the plate of cookies and the two cups that rested on the table.

  She smiled as she picked up the coffeepot. All men were the same when it came to cookies and coffee. “Well, for starters you can have a seat and help me eat these cookies.” She poured hot coffee into the two cups.

  Clayton’s rich laughter washed over her like warm water on a cold day. She felt goose bumps swell on her arms.

  “I’ll be happy to put away a few of those cookies for you.” He moved to the table and waited for her to indicate which chair to take. She waved him to the one on the end, and then Maggie joined him.

  When he was seated, Maggie said, “Help yourself.” She pushed the plate closer to him.

  Clayton picked up a golden-colored cookie and bit into it. He grinned. “These are very good.”

  “Thank you. They are my grandmother’s recipe.” She took a sip of the warm coffee.

  His eyes narrowed. “Why are you trying to sweeten me up?”

  She laughed. “Am I that transparent?”

  Clayton chewed, then swallowed. “Let’s just say I know a bribe when I taste one. Ma used to ply us boys with cookies when she wanted information.”

  Maggie nodded. “I think I would like your ma.”

  “I’m sure you would. Everybody loves Ma.” He washed the first cookie down with a big gulp of the coffee. “So, what do you want to know?” His blue gaze met hers.

  She sighed and put down her cup. “As you know, I can’t very well get out with the children to check and see for myself what Gus is doing to James’s ranch. Bill used to come and give me updates on how things were going so I was hoping you would do the same.” Maggie waited to see if things were as bad as she felt in her heart that they were. She hadn’t seen the books in over three months. She prayed the ranch finances were in order.

  Clayton set his cup down and reached for another cookie. “Well, according to Hal, Gus isn’t around much so hasn’t given any orders other than for the men to do what they normally do. I’ve n
oticed that the calves haven’t been rounded up or branded and there are a lot of repairs on the place that are being neglected.”

  Maggie leaned forward in her chair. “How many calves do you think we have this year?”

  It seemed to Maggie that Clayton was doing a mental head count. “I’ve seen about three hundred, more or less.”

  “That sounds about right. Gus said we lost over half the herd this winter and that’s about half of the calves Jack said we’d have this year.”

  Clayton’s eyes narrowed. “How did you lose half the herd?”

  “Gus said that last big snow we had trapped some of them in the gully and they froze to death. He and the men couldn’t get to them because of the weather.” She sighed. “We took a big loss on them.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, how is the ranch making money?” Clayton pushed the plate away as if he’d lost his appetite.

  “Jack always took the cattle to market in the late spring, but with us losing half the herd, I’m not sure what Gus has planned.” She hated admitting that she didn’t know what would happen next.

  Clayton’s frown deepened. “Maggie, there aren’t enough cattle on this ranch for a cattle drive to anyplace.”

  She shook her head. “We are a small ranch. Every spring Jack teamed up with our neighbor, Mr. Morris, and they’d take our cattle and his to market.”

  “Doesn’t it seem odd to you that half the herd froze to death in the gully? Isn’t the gully supposed to help protect them? And where were the men when the cattle were freezing?”

  Clayton’s blue eyes had hardened to deep sapphires.

  Maggie realized just how little she knew about her own ranch. She sighed. “I don’t know.”

  “I’m not trying to be rude, Maggie, but why haven’t you asked Gus these questions?”

  She swallowed. “I didn’t know what to ask at the time, and lately, he isn’t talking to me.”

  Clayton nodded. “Yeah, I noticed he hasn’t been to the house. I just assumed that you two meet once a month instead of weekly.”