Cowboy to the Rescue

by Louise M. Gouge

  Chapter Eighteen

  Susanna helped Daddy to a sitting position and put several pillows behind him on the bed, then tucked a napkin into his nightshirt collar. “Chicken and dumplings, dearest. One of your favorites.” She brought the tray to him and made sure it sat firmly on his lap before taking her own bowl in hand. “Not as good as Minerva’s, of course, but still tasty.” Even though Angela was an excellent cook, Susanna often longed for their former housekeeper’s delicious cuisine.

  After they said grace, he dipped his spoon into the broth and brought out a small, round dumpling. “I don’t know about that, daughter. Miss Angela’s a mighty fine cook, too. I’ve enjoyed all her meals.”

  Something in his tone gave her pause, but she quickly dismissed it. Of course Daddy would become fond of the servant who took such good care of him.

  “A new doctor arrived at the barn raising yesterday.” She wouldn’t mention that the Colonel had summoned the man from Boston to tend the community’s health needs, for that would give their unwilling host too much credit. “I asked him to come see you today.”

  “Gracious, girl.” Daddy coughed, as he often had since being laid up. “I’ll be fine. Why, Zack and Miss Angela are planning to get me on my feet this very afternoon.”

  “That’s good news, but nevertheless, I want the doctor to look you over before you try to stand.” Still stinging from the way the Colonel dismissed her from the dining room, she basked in Daddy’s fond gaze. Poor Nate, having such a disagreeable father, who never showed such disapproval to his other children as he had to Nate all day at the Eberlys’. “Besides, that cough of yours worries me, so I want him to make sure you don’t have pneumonia.”

  Securing his agreement to see the doctor, she went on to tell him about the barn raising, the food and the dance.

  “Did he dance with you?” Daddy gave her a teasing grin.

  “Who?” Had he guessed about her struggles not to become attached to Nate?

  “Why, the doctor, of course.” His eyes twinkled, but he was watching her closely. “Who else would I be talking about?”

  “Oh, gracious, Daddy.” She finished her dinner and set down her bowl. “That barn was overrun with cowboys. I danced until my feet ached.” She brushed invisible lint from her borrowed skirt. “They still ache.”

  “I see.”

  Before he could further comment, a light tap sounded on the door. Susanna admitted Angela into the room.

  “Eduardo,” she began, then quickly added, “forgive me, Señor Anders, the doctor has arrived.”

  Susanna glanced between the two of them, but before she could question the housekeeper’s use of the Spanish version of Daddy’s first name, Zack and Dr. Henshaw entered.

  Greetings were offered, introductions were made and then the doctor ushered Susanna and Angela out.

  “The very idea! Why can’t we stay?” Susanna huffed as they stood outside the closed door.

  Angela frowned with equal displeasure, then shook her head. “He is in good hands.”

  “Yes, Dr. Henshaw does seem quite competent.”

  “No, señorita, it is the Lord’s hands I speak of.” She patted Susanna’s shoulder. “Now I must prepare supper. With many people to feed, something must always be cooking, sí?”

  “I’ll be glad to help.” Susanna followed her down the back stairs. Maybe she would see Nate, if he hadn’t already left the house after eating dinner. What had he thought about her absence at the table? Had he guessed his father was responsible?

  They found Rosamond washing dishes in the kitchen. “There you are, Susanna. Where’ve you been? With you and Nate gone, I was left to entertain my parents during dinner.”

  “Nate was gone?”

  “Yep.” Rosamond squeezed out her dishrag and wiped it across the wooden counter. “Father said he told you Nate wouldn’t be there, and since you didn’t plan to eat with us, you should have set only three places.”

  Her thoughts in a whirl, Susanna busied herself pulling potatoes from the wooden vegetable bin and placing them on the table to peel. The Colonel hadn’t been dismissing her, simply informing her that Nate wouldn’t be at dinner. But she hardly could have asked him to clarify his terse statement. Although she felt somewhat embarrassed, she was mostly annoyed. He’d turned a misunderstanding into a criticism of the way she set the table. What an impossible man!

  * * *

  Seeing a slow-moving wagon ahead, Nate urged Victor to a trot and soon pulled beside the large, canvas-covered conveyance. “Howdy.” He touched his hat brim. “You men headed to Four Stones Ranch?”

  “Yep.” The driver and his rifle-toting partner offered guarded greetings.

  “I’m Nate Northam. Follow me.”

  Thus assured he wasn’t out to rob them, they responded with more enthusiasm, no doubt eager to deliver their heavy load. What had the Colonel ordered this time? Nate was privy to only a few of his father’s secrets about the anniversary, mainly how fancy the ballroom would be once all the furnishings arrived. And of course, the china.

  Every time he thought about the china, he thanked the good Lord for using it to introduce him to Susanna. Wasn’t the way they met sufficient proof that God smiled on his feelings for her? Maybe he should have asked Reverend Thomas about that.

  Riding slightly in front of the four-horse team, Nate guided the lead animals around the worst of the holes in the rutted road. When they got to Four Stones Lane, he’d ride on ahead and suggest to Mother that she might want to go upstairs and work on her quilt. Whatever was in the wagon, she’d play her game of pretending not to notice its arrival. He sure did look forward to seeing her face when the Colonel gave her all those surprises. And for all of Nate’s anger toward the man, he knew his father would make a big fuss about what a fine quilt she’d made, saying it was exactly what he’d always wanted. A man had to admire a couple who still loved each other so dearly after twenty-five years of marriage.

  Which only added to Nate’s confusion about the Colonel’s insistence that he marry Maisie. Couldn’t the old man see how important it was to marry a woman he loved? Nobody submitted to arranged marriages anymore.

  When he arrived at the house, Mother dutifully decided it was time to head upstairs to get busy with her quilting. Nate had directed the men to deliver the wagon’s contents to the veranda outside the ballroom. The three of them started to unload the first wooden carton, but it proved too heavy. Nate rounded up several more hands, including the carpenter, who was staining the ballroom’s mahogany balustrade. The two large boxes sat safely inside just as the Colonel entered, crowbar in hand.

  Nate braced himself for a confrontation, but his father’s mood was nothing short of jubilant.

  “Let’s take a look.” He nodded to the driver. “It didn’t have a scratch when I checked it in Alamosa last week.” Not giving the other man a chance to respond, he began to pry open the slats.

  Nate pitched in to help, and they soon had the packing removed. At last, the Colonel slid off the heavy quilted cotton protecting the object and ran a hand over his purchase for inspection.

  “A grand piano,” Nate said in hushed tones. He guessed this large, rectangular instrument was the finest piano in the entire San Luis Valley. The shiny mahogany surface matched the newly installed woodwork.

  “Let’s get the base unpacked. Bring it over here by the staircase.” The Colonel directed the men, and they soon had the body secured on the base, which boasted four elegantly carved legs. “I see some scratches.” His shoulders hunched up like a grizzly bear’s, and he sent a dark look toward the driver.

  “Do not vorry, Herr Northam.” The carpenter scurried over to inspect the damage, his toolbox in hand. “The damage, you vill never know it vas there.”

  The German craftsman proved true to his word. A bit of sandpaper, a touch of stain, and e
ven a magnifying glass would not betray the spots. As he worked, Nate noticed the Colonel’s shoulders relaxing. In those brief moments, he saw a side of his father he’d never before noticed. Or maybe hadn’t given enough thought.

  His generosity and protectiveness—to friends, to neighbors and especially to Mother—could not be denied. This was the better part of the man, the one people like Reverend Thomas saw and admired. Why did he not bestow any of those better feelings on Nate? Could he himself be the one in the wrong?

  After paying the deliverymen and receiving their assurance that the rest of the furniture would be delivered the following week, the Colonel sent them on their way. Then he stood in the center of the room surveying every detail with a critical eye. “What do you think?”

  Nate had to look around to be sure he was the person being addressed. “Looks good so far. With the rest of the furniture and the drapes Miss Anders is making, it’ll be the finest ballroom in Colorado.”

  At the mention of Susanna’s name, the Colonel cut him a sharp look. “What are you talking about? Rosamond is making the drapes.”

  Determined not to argue or even get angry, Nate shrugged. “Rosamond said she has trouble sewing velvet, but Susanna has a talent for keeping it from puckering.”

  The Colonel continued to glare at him as if it was his fault. “I’ll be speaking to your sister about that.” He stalked toward the interior door then turned back. “What are you doing for the rest of the day?” His tone was unusually genial, and his expression had softened.

  Nate shrugged again. “Guess I’ll ride out and check that south fencing.”

  The Colonel didn’t turn away quite fast enough to hide his grin. For some odd reason, instead of irritating Nate, it stirred up a warm feeling in his chest. Maybe there was still hope for their relationship.

  * * *

  On Monday morning, Susanna made her way to Nate’s room to check on Daddy. To her surprise, he and Nate stood beside the bed, with Daddy balancing himself with the crutch Zack had fashioned from a forked tree branch. A cushion, probably sewn on by Angela, covered the wood to spare his underarm. “Just look at you getting around on your own.”

  “Doc Henshaw gave his approval last Friday, and I’ve been practicing these past few days.” He’d lost weight, but the color was returning to his cheeks. “It feels mighty good.”

  “And look at your new outfit.” She sent a grateful glance toward Nate. Obviously, he’d loaned Daddy those denim trousers and that plaid shirt. If Mrs. Northam would sell her some of the material Nate had carted in with the china, Susanna could start sewing a new wardrobe for her father. “You look like a cowboy.”

  Daddy chuckled. “Maybe I’ll go downstairs and take a turn around the property this afternoon.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Nate said. “I’ll help you negotiate the stairs. In fact, why not come down for dinner?”

  Daddy eyed him and frowned. “I don’t want to put anybody out.”

  “Do you mean you don’t want to run into the Colonel?” Nate gave him a rueful smile. “Never mind about that.”

  Daddy shrugged. “If you’re certain, then I will. I’d enjoy sitting at a table again.”

  With the matter settled, they helped Daddy down the wide front staircase and out onto the shady front lawn. The effort tired him, so Susanna sat on a bench with him while Nate excused himself to do chores.

  “The preacher asked about you yesterday.” Susanna had thoroughly enjoyed the Sunday service, especially the singing. “He said he’ll be out to visit you sometime this week.”

  “I’ll be glad to see him again.” Daddy gave her one of his long, speculative looks. “He’s a real Southern gentleman and a handsome young man, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, he is.” Susanna didn’t try to hide her amusement. “I’d say between his looks and the doctor’s, though, the doctor wins by a nose.”

  Daddy laughed, catching her joke about the doctor’s most prominent facial feature. “But neither one can hold a candle to a certain cowboy.”

  Susanna released a long, weary sigh. No use trying to deny the obvious. Of course Daddy would have noticed her partiality for Nate, even tucked away in his bedroom all this time. In a way, though, it felt good to have her struggles out in the open. “Oh, well. He’s a Yankee, so that’s that.” Her tone didn’t sound as dismissive as she would have liked.

  Daddy gazed out over the western field, where sunflowers towered above half-grown corn. “The heart is an untamed beast, daughter. Sometimes it tries to take us where we know we shouldn’t go.”

  “I know.” Her spirits sank at his pronouncement. “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked. Who can know it?”

  Daddy started. “Whoa, daughter. I believe that verse in Jeremiah refers to matters of faith in the Lord, not a person you come to care about deeply.” He ran a hand over the smooth wooden bench. “I don’t believe it’s wicked to love any person. It’s what you do about it that matters.”

  “What if that person is a Yankee?” She held her breath waiting for his answer. If he granted her permission to care for Nate, she’d have no reason to deny her own heart’s longing. And truly, in spite of all she’d told herself, in spite of her dreams to marry a Southern gentleman, she did care for Nate. Cared enough to stay right here in the San Luis Valley rather than return home to Georgia.

  “What if that person is a—” He shook his head. “Well, look who’s here.”

  Nate rounded the corner of the house, and Susanna’s emotions did their usual turn. She’d seen him only a few minutes ago, yet one would think it had been a month of Sundays. Daddy greeted Nate like a long-lost friend, but she couldn’t help but notice he’d failed to answer her question.

  “Let’s eat.” Nate helped Daddy back into the house and down the center hallway to the dining room.

  “Mr. Anders, I’m so pleased you’re able to join us.” Mrs. Northam’s warm welcome almost overcame the chill emanating from the Colonel. Almost.

  But Daddy, ever the Southern gentleman, comported himself with dignity and grace that would have made Mama proud.

  * * *

  That afternoon, after seeing Daddy safely back upstairs, Susanna joined Nate and Rosamond for an errand into the settlement. Mrs. Northam, busy with arranging food for the anniversary celebration, needed to know what to expect from their neighbors. Although Rosamond could have managed the errand alone, the Colonel sent Nate along, citing their run-in with the Utes two weeks ago. When they invited Susanna, she eagerly accepted.

  As they neared the cluster of homes and businesses, she longed to direct Sadie down some of the lanes to see the varied architecture. Some of the houses appeared quite elegant, while others had a humbler look. Reining her horse nearer to Nate’s, she asked, “Do you plan to name your town anytime soon?”

  “That’s a question I’d like answered myself. Seems like it’s about time.” He pointed to a lane, almost a street, which met their road at a right angle. “You can see the town’s already been platted, but until we’re incorporated, nobody wants to attach a name to it.”

  “When the railroad reaches us next year, we’ll need to have a name.” Rosamond gazed off thoughtfully. “I like Mountain View because whichever way you look, you can see mountains.”

  Susanna decided she could not improve on her friend’s idea.

  In the center of the settlement, they reached Miss Pam’s café and dismounted.

  “Now, you know she’ll want us to have some pie,” Nate said.

  “That won’t hurt my feelings.” Susanna could just taste the delicious elderberry pie Miss Pam had served them when Nate had first brought her and Daddy through. Every time she saw the sweet lady, she thanked her again for the use of her boar-hair brush. One day she would repay her with more than words.

  Soon the three of t
hem were digging into their cream-covered pie and discussing what Miss Pam would bring to the anniversary party.

  “My garden has an abundance of green beans,” she said. “They’ll be ripe for picking just in time.”

  Miss Pam also passed along several bits of benign gossip, such as the imminent arrival of a woman who would set up a mercantile next door to her café. “I’ve been waiting for a place nearby to go shopping since I left St. Louis nine years ago. I’m tired of getting my supplies over in Del Norte.”

  While they all enjoyed a good laugh over that, the news gave Susanna special delight. Not only would she be able to repay Miss Pam, but she would also be able to purchase material to replace Daddy’s clothes that had been ruined by the thieves.

  “Charlie’s been hired to string the telegraph,” Miss Pam said. “It’ll be nice to have a faster way than letters to communicate with folks beyond the Valley.”

  Filled with pie and news, they took their leave and made the rounds of the town, gathering a list of food and beverages people would contribute to the party. Everyone seemed eager to participate.

  Just beyond the church, Susanna noticed a pretty two-story Queen Anne home. “How lovely. Who lives there?” Outside the front fence, a vaguely familiar horse stood tied to a post under a shady elm.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Foster,” said Nate. “They knew the Colonel years ago, so when he invited them to be a part of this community, they couldn’t resist. Mrs. Foster gives piano lessons and—” Strangely, he clamped his mouth shut. Maybe he’d come close to blurting out a secret about the party.

  “If you haven’t noticed—” Rosamond laughed “—our father has very strong persuasive powers.”

  Now Susanna clamped her mouth shut. She most certainly had noticed the Colonel’s controlling ways. As they rode down the next street, she glanced back at the lovely home. To her shock, she saw Rita exiting the yard with an older lady. They embraced and shared a laugh, then Rita mounted the horse and rode away, while the lady went back inside.