Freddie

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Freddie Page 4

by Margaret Tanner


  He handed over the paper, paid the clerk and headed for the door, stopping before he got there. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours to see if there’s a reply.”

  “It could take longer.”

  “I know that,” Nick snapped, “I’ll check anyway.”

  Gawd-dammit, he hoped there would be a quick reply. He didn’t want to stay in Boynton for any longer than was necessary. It was a noisy, dusty place with people scurrying everywhere.

  He strode into the general store.

  “Howdy, Nick.”

  “Howdy. Here’s my list. Flour, sugar, coffee, salt, beans.” He went down his list.

  “The usual quantities, Nick?”

  “Yeah. Oh, I’ll have some butter, ten bacon rashes and a large tin of molasses.”

  The storekeeper raised bushy eyebrows. “Celebrating something?”

  “No.” What was wrong with the man? It was no-one’s business except his own what he ordered. “I’ll be back in a little while. I want to go to the feed store.”

  At the diner he ordered a large beef steak with potatoes and greens, followed by hot biscuits, with a strong, aromatic coffee to wash it all down. He enjoyed it. This meal made it almost worthwhile coming into town.

  Would Freddie be all right? He really hadn’t thought about her ability to cope at the ranch on her own. At least she could get around now. The swelling on her face had subsided and the bruising was fading. Her shoulder wound would take more time to heal, but after another couple of days she should be fit to travel.

  After paying for his lunch, he left the diner and made his way up the street. On the spur of the moment he called into the bakery and bought a loaf of bread for supper. It smelled so good he was tempted to break a piece off and eat it on the spot.

  “Hey, Mister.” The clerk from the Telegraph Office almost collided with him near the general store. “I’ve been looking for you. I got a reply.” He waved a sheet of paper in the air.

  “Thanks.” The youth gave him the paper and darted away. Nick glanced at the message and his blood boiled.

  Billy got home safe. Too busy. Make your own way back.

  “Sonofabitch,” he muttered. What kind of man would be too busy to collect his injured daughter? He read it through a second time to make sure he hadn’t made a mistake. He hadn’t.

  Striding up to the wagon he noticed it was already loaded. His feed store purchases were also loaded. Not surprising, the feed store and the general store were owned by the same family.

  He walked into the general store to pay his bill. He always paid in cash, that way if he couldn’t afford it, he didn’t buy it. He was fairly self-sufficient, having his own meat, eggs and milk. Flour, sugar, salt, beans and coffee were the main things he bought.

  His one indulgence was whiskey. He always bought a couple of dozen bottles each time he came to town. It was one pleasure he was prepared to allow himself. When his savings got low he would break in a few mustangs and sell them to the army or sell off a few head of cattle.

  Inside the general store his gaze was drawn to several containers of colorful candy. He drummed his fingers on the counter to get the storekeeper’s attention.

  “I’ll have a couple of scoops of the candy.”

  The man’s mouth dropped open in surprise, although he made no comment, just filled up the bag. Nick handed over the money and shoved the candy in his pocket. He normally didn’t do anything on impulse, but Freddie would be devastated on hearing her father had refused to collect her.

  He hoped the candy would make her feel a little better. There were her boots, too, so he wasn’t returning empty handed. The last present he had ever bought was one for Li’s birthday, a few days before he marched off to war.

  Chapter Seven

  Freddie had spent a long, lonely day without Nick. She couldn’t believe how badly she missed him, and was almost glad to spend a lot of the day sleeping. Even though she was weak as a kitten, she had been able to unbind her ribs, which were still badly bruised. The terrible pain had gone, now it only hurt if she moved suddenly or took in a sudden deep breath.

  Her shoulder was still painful although not as bad as in the beginning. Would she lose strength in her arm? She would have liked to repay Nick by cleaning up or cooking him a nice meal, but wasn’t up to it. Making herself a cup of coffee and opening up a can of beans had sapped her strength.

  She was dozing in the old armchair in the parlor when the door sung open and Nick strode in.

  “Should you be up?” he asked, putting a loaf of bread and a couple of small packages on the table.

  “I’ve been resting most of the time. I did try to do a little walking around.”

  “Snooping?”

  Her cheeks burned. “Sort of, I was, well I was looking for something to wear. I can’t get around wearing only a nightgown.”

  “It covers you.”

  “I know….”

  He tugged at his beard in agitation. “I went to the Telegraph Office and got word to your father.”

  “Do you know when he’s coming for me?”

  “You better read this yourself.” He handed her the slip of paper. As she read it her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Freddie, I don’t know how a man could be so callous.”

  She sniffed loudly. “At least Billy made it home. What’s going to happen to me now?”

  Freddie couldn’t believe it. Pa had always been a hard man, but this? She scrubbed at the tears trickling down her cheeks.

  “I went to Everton and found your boots and bought you these.” He thrust the paper bag at her. “I thought it might cheer you up.”

  She peeped into the bag and her tears fell faster.

  “You don’t like them? I wanted to, I mean, I thought….”

  “Thank you, it was a kind gesture. I appreciate it.”

  He looked ill at ease, she sensed he didn’t know what to do or say.

  “I shouldn’t have been surprised at Pa’s answer. He’s a hard man.”

  “You’re his daughter God dammit. What’s wrong with the man?”

  It was somehow comforting knowing Nick was angry on her behalf. Did he care for her?

  “I’ll unload the supplies. I’ve got a storage room out the back. After I’ve seen to the horses, I’ll get us some supper. I bought fresh bread from the bakery and some butter and bacon. I’ve got plenty of eggs so we can eat well tonight.”

  She winced as she struggled to get up from the chair and went over to him.

  “Thank you for everything.” She leaned up and kissed him on the mouth. His breath came out in a shocked gasp. He stepped back, rubbing his fingers across his lips, turned on his heel and started out of the room.

  “Nick!”

  “What?”

  “You didn’t like it?”

  “I liked it too much.” His voice was rough as gravel. “Don’t play with fire, little gal or you’ll get burnt.” He left the room, banging the door behind him.

  What had possessed her? Would he now think she was a woman of low morals? In the silence of the cabin she admitted it, what she had been hiding from for the last couple of years. All she really wanted was for someone to love her.

  She staggered out of the room, barely having the strength to climb into bed. It was almost dark when she heard Nick moving around in the kitchen. What was that smell? Bacon and eggs? She pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

  Nick poked his head around the door a few minutes later. Supper’s ready.”

  “Thank you.” She climbed out of bed. “Ouch.” The sudden movement hurt. She wished she had something other than a nightgown to wear. Fortunately, the material was thick enough not to be transparent or cling to her curves.

  “Come on, sit down,” he said.

  “Smells appetizing.”

  He pulled out a chair for her. He had good manners when he chose to use them. The stove was unlit, meaning he had done the cooking outside. The lighted lantern hanging from the ceiling over the table
cast shadows around the room, somehow softening its usual starkness.

  Nick had cooked bacon and eggs, no beans thank goodness. The loaf of fresh, crusty bread sat on the table, although he had placed the butter on a tin plate. He had already eaten some of the bread by the looks of it. At least he hadn’t picked all the crust off like Billy used to do. What would her siblings be doing at Guilford Crossing right now? She didn’t care about Pa, ornery polecat. She fought to overcome the hurt of his abandonment.

  “Tuck in before it gets cold. I only cooked you one egg, I can do more if you like. I figured with the bread it would be enough. It wouldn’t be wise to eat too much too soon.”

  “You’re only saying that so I won’t eat too much of this fresh, crusty bread.” She smiled at him.

  He grinned, and what a difference it made to him. “Yeah, you could be right. I don’t often treat myself.”

  “Thank you for the candy, except for my sisters I can’t remember getting presents before.”

  “I felt bad about your Pa.”

  “I’m not surprised, he’s always been nasty and ornery.”

  “What are your sisters’ names?”

  “Alfreda is called Alfie and Alexandra is….”

  He snapped his fingers. “Alex.”

  She laughed. “How did you know?”

  “It wasn’t too hard to figure out.”

  She reached for the bread the same time as him. Their hands touched and a shock passed through her. He jerked back. Had he felt it also?

  “I’ll cut this.” His voice was gruff, yet his blue eyes blazed.

  Hacking off a couple of thick slices, he placed one on her plate, the other on his own.

  “You can use the butter first.” He was obviously taking no chances of any more bodily contact between them.

  Her hand trembled as she spread the butter on the bread. It was delicious, so fresh it almost melted in her mouth. The crunchy crust was just the way she liked it. They had always eaten good food at home, about the only thing Pa didn’t skimp on.

  “Good eh?” Nick said, after emptying his mouth.

  “It sure is.”

  A crumb lodged between her front teeth, and using her tongue to remove it she watched Nick’s nostrils flare. Quickly she lowered her head and stared down at her plate. She ate the eggs and bacon, soaking up the yolk with the bread.

  “You’re starting to look much better,” he said, as if it was imperative to break the silence. “I’ll need to change your….”

  “I can do it.”

  “Not your shoulder you can’t. Coffee?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  He reached for the coffee pot, which was resting on the end of the table. “I’ve got milk and sugar if you want it.”

  “Oh?”

  “I do have a house cow, she’s getting old and cantankerous and doesn’t give much milk, although it’s enough for my needs.”

  “I thought you only drank black coffee.”

  “I do. Sometimes I feel like a bowl of oatmeal.”

  Oh?”

  “My great uncle who brought me up was Scottish. I was just about force fed it as a kid. I don’t mind it really.”

  This was the most conversation they had ever exchanged.

  “I’ll take a look at your shoulder before turning in. I go to bed early and get up early, saves lamp oil.”

  “It you lit the fire in the kitchen it would give out light.”

  “I can’t be bothered most times. I use it in the winter if it gets really cold.” He drained his coffee cup and stood. She did likewise.

  “I boiled a pot of water for you. I’ll bring it in. There are always a couple of buckets of water left on the porch. I cart water from the creek and if it gets too low, I know where there is a spring, so I can get drinking water from there.”

  “A spring?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know exactly where the water comes from, somewhere underground I suppose. My wife told me about it. Her father found it years ago. This place once belonged to him. After he died it became hers. I doubt if there is a living soul who knows about the spring.” He pursed his lips. “It’s the way I want it to stay, too. Men have been killed over a lot less.”

  “Your secret is safe with me, besides you didn’t tell me exactly where it is.”

  “Just the fact it’s on the property is enough. Some of those rich ranchers would torture me to get the information.”

  She gasped in shock.

  “Greedy, ruthless sonsofbitches most of them are.”

  “You really hate them, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “For what happened to your wife?”

  His features turned grim, his eyes flashed vividly blue.

  “Yeah, that, and them making money out of the war.”

  “What happened to your wife?”

  He turned away and strode outside, returning with two buckets of hot water. Once I’ve seen to your shoulder, there should be enough for you to wash in.”

  He emptied a quarter of the hot water into a tin dish resting on the table, to this he added cold water from a bucket resting on the hearth.

  “Unbutton your nightgown and push it down over your shoulder.”

  “But….”

  “Don’t be bashful, I doubt if there’s even an inch of your body I haven’t seen.”

  Heat rushed into her cheeks, she didn’t know where to look.

  His hands were gentle as he unwound the bandage and carefully lifted it away. “Looks clean.”

  He washed it and applied a foul-smelling salve. “It stinks to high heaven but keeps infection away.”

  “What is it?”

  “No idea, some Chinese concoction my wife made up. It’s over ten years old, obviously still works, though. There’s honey and ginger in it, about the only ingredients I know.”

  “Your wife was Chinese?” That would answer a lot of questions.

  “Yeah.” He applied a fresh bandage, a torn sheet by the looks of it. “There you are.” He slipped the top of her nightgown back into place.

  Had his fingers lingered a little longer than necessary on her bare flesh?

  “Wear your boots if you need to go to the outhouse, the ground is rough, and I’d hate you to get bitten by a snake.”

  “You’d be rid of me then.”

  His cheeks whitened where they weren’t covered by his beard. “I don’t want to get rid of you like that. If I’d wanted you dead, I’d have left you for the buzzards on that hillside.”

  “You thought I was a boy didn’t you?”

  “I thought you were dead until I touched you and you groaned. I didn’t see your long hair until I pulled you out from under the rock. It might have been better for both of us if you had been dead.”

  “What!” Shocked tears filled her eyes. “You wanted me dead?”

  “No. I just meant, had you died you wouldn’t know what a lowdown, heartless sonofabitch your father was.”

  She scrubbed at the tears trickling down her cheeks. “I knew. He’s always been harsh and uncaring. What did you mean by both of us?”

  He hesitated, and when he spoke his voice was gruff. “You being here has re-kindled feelings I thought were dead and buried years ago.”

  She didn’t know what to say. “What was your wife’s name?”

  “Li.”

  “Tell me what happened to her, it might help.”

  Haltingly at first, with lots of pauses he told her what happened. How he had returned from the war to find a lynch mob gathered around, with Li beaten and raped and hanging from a tall tree. “They called her a whore,” he finished off bitterly, and everyone just stood there and watched.

  “Oh, Nick, that’s shocking.” No wonder he lived the way he did, shunning people.

  “How could they call her a whore when she was married to you?”

  “Our marriage wasn’t sanctified by the church. She was my mistress I suppose most would say, I thought of her as my wife. The preacher in Everton
wouldn’t marry us because she was Chinese. If he had married us Li’s murder might have been avoided.”

  “How horrible for you.” She picked up his hand and he snatched it away. “I’m sorry, Nick.” She wanted to weep for what he had lost.

  “Now you know why I’m the way I am. In another few days you’ll be well enough to leave. I’ll take you into Boynton.”

  It hurt that he couldn’t wait to get rid of her.

  “If you want to wash I won’t disturb you. Oh, if any of Li’s clothes fit, you can have them. I’m going to bed.”

  She did want to wash her body, her hair especially, but it would have to wait until tomorrow. She stripped off the nightgown without too much trouble. Tomorrow if she was careful, she might be able to wash her hair and her clothes.

  Chapter Eight

  Next morning when Freddie woke up Nick was gone. It was becoming easier to get out of bed now. She still wasn’t fully recovered. If she took it slowly, she might be able to do a few chores for him as inactivity was something new for her.

  She nibbled at a slice of buttered bread washed down with a cup of water. He had told her she could have any of Li’s clothes that fit, if she wanted to. There was no other choice.

  Returning to the bedroom, she searched through the dresser and took out the skirt and blouse. She lifted out a pair of bloomers and a chemise. At least I’ve got my own boots now.

  She had to wash her hair as it was full of dirt and congealed blood. How she survived such a vicious attack was a miracle. Changing out of the nightgown was easy enough, getting into the clean clothes was a struggle. Finally, the feat was accomplished

  Tugging on her boots, she decided to go outside and see if she could heat up some water. Her hair would be washed even if it was in cold water. She couldn’t stand it a minute longer.

  The fire was merely a bed of glowing embers. She picked up a log and placed it on the hot coals before adding a couple of smaller pieces, then fanned it with a towel.

  In the closed in section of the back porch sat a hip bath. Nick must sometimes bathe fully. What would he look like without clothes? The shock of such wanton thoughts nearly felled her. She snatched up a square of soap and dashed outside.

  What was wrong with her? Men as such had never bothered her in the past. One day in the future she planned to get married and have babies if the right man came along.

 

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