“If this is your way of sulking, I’d say it’s pretty productive. That’s good.”
Still rattled by the thought of him standing so close without her knowing, Beth rose and laid her charcoal and sketch pad on her chair. “Thanks.”
Trey grinned. “Still mad as a hornet, aren’t you? I don’t know much about art, but I can tell you’ve had some training. That’s not just a horse – that’s Cloud.”
“No, I don’t suppose you would know much about art,” Beth agreed serenely, “but you’re right. I took lessons off and on, from the time I was fourteen up until Uncle Robert died. Then I couldn’t afford them any longer.”
Trey dropped the annoying grin and picked up the sketch for a closer look. A long moment passed while he studied her work. Beth might not need his approval, but she discovered that she wanted it.
“Beth, you’ve got talent as well as training. Your teachers must have told you that. Have you ever sold anything?”
The question took her by surprise. No one else had ever asked her that. “I sold a couple of paintings to family friends in Philadelphia before we moved to Denver. They insisted on paying me. Just before I came here, I sent two other paintings off to a friend of mine in New York to see if she could sell them for me, but Uncle Robert and Aunt Abigail thought it more appropriate for me to donate my work to charity. After all, a lady had no need to paint for money.”
Trey stepped toward her, the sketchbook in one hand, the other very close to hers. Too close. “Is that what this morning was all about? Look, I appreciate that you want to pull your weight, but I can’t picture you shoveling out stalls, or figure out why you would want to.”
His breath tickled Beth’s ear. Seconds passed before she could trust herself to look at him. “I want to because it’s part of what has to be done here.”
Trey took a step back, set the sketchbook on the easel, picked up her charcoal and twirled it in his fingers. “Seems to me you’d be better off spending your time at this.”
Beth took a relieved breath. She found it hard to string words together with him standing so close. Hard to think with his warm, outdoor scent filling her nostrils. She’d never imagined he’d affect her this way, this soon. “I intend to, but not all of it. I could have done that at Graham’s house or back east. I chose to come here. You didn’t send for an artist.”
Trey’s fingers grazed hers when he handed the charcoal back to her, a tickling sensation that raced up her arm. “Fair enough. I just want you to take your time getting to know the horses and let me show you a few things before you start handling them alone. You won’t be of much help if you get hurt.”
“I can live with that. I just want you to treat me like I have a real stake in this place, as long as I’m here. As you say, your work can be dangerous. If you ever get sick or hurt, I’ll need to know how to look after things, including the barn. And that reminds me – I’d like you to go over finances with me sometime soon. You might think that’s none of my business yet, but if anything should happen to you while I’m here, I’ll need to know what to do.”
If Trey thought she was being too forward, he didn’t show it. “That sure won’t take long. We can do it right now. The place will be mine free and clear later this summer when my five years are up. There aren’t any debts. I’ve got a hundred dollars in the bank in Denver. My will is there, too. The way it stands now, if I die, the homestead and the stock will be sold and the money will be put in trust for my nieces and nephew. Of course, if you stay, that will change. Anything else you want to know?”
“No.” He’d given Beth what she wanted – some basic respect.
She signed her drawing E. M. Underhill, pulled the page from the sketchbook and held it out to him. He’d appreciate it more than anyone else would. “Thank you, Trey. Here, I’d like you to have this. Call it a peace offering.”
“Are you sure?”
Beth’s cheeks warmed as she released her grip on the paper. Their first argument over. She supposed it was a minor milestone. Trey looked as if he thought so. He probably hadn’t expected to get past politeness this soon, either.
“Yes. It wouldn’t mean as much to anyone else.”
“Thanks.”
He took the drawing back to the house. Goosebumps rose on Beth’s arms when he returned with a revolver in his hand.
“I don’t suppose you’ve ever fired one of these.”
“No, I haven’t.” If the idea of learning to shoot had ever occurred to her, Graham would have scotched it at once.
“Then I’m going to teach you. Starting now.”
Trey took the bullets from the gun and held it out to her.
Beth turned it over in her hands, tested its cold weight. “Do you really think that’s necessary?”
“Yes. I keep this in the middle drawer of the dresser, loaded. Being here alone as much as you will be, you should know how to use it. New people are showing up in this country all the time, and they aren’t all angels.”
The thought of being alone here hadn’t frightened Beth until now. “All right, show me.”
Trey showed her how to load, aim, and fire, then watched while she practiced. “That’s enough for now,” he said, after she’d emptied the revolver twice. “I’d say you could hit someone coming toward you at close range.”
She shivered at the thought. Their gazes locked – Trey’s challenging, Beth’s refusing to back down. After a moment he nodded approval. “I’ll teach you to use a rifle, too. You should carry one when you’re riding alone. Your horse could fall and break a leg, anything could happen.”
Beth stared at the stump she’d riddled with bullets. “I don’t know if I could ever use it.”
Trey handed the revolver back to her. “That’s something you won’t know until you have to. Hopefully you never will, but at least now you know how. I’d better go get some work done.”
Beth loaded the gun and put it away. A few minutes later, Trey left to work on a waterhole he was improving.
Alone in the house, Beth sat at the table. The silence screamed at her.
Go back where you came from.
CHAPTER 5
After supper, which more than lived up to Mrs. Grant’s billing, Nathan headed out for a beer and an informative chat with Neil Garrett. It wasn’t yet dark, but a good-sized crowd of ranch hands and homesteaders added a pungent mixture of smoke and sweat to the atmosphere in the saloon.
“Beer, please, Neil. Looks like a busy night.”
“Yeah. Got to say, business has been good lately. Country’s filling up.” Neil pushed Nathan’s drink across the bar. “Keeps on, I’ll have to hire a bartender.”
Nathan hitched his stool closer to the bar so he could be heard. “Good for business, but more folks moving in means more complications. I heard today that the schoolteacher’s leaving to get married, and there isn’t a new one ready to step in. There’ve been a few robberies. People want a doctor, and a bank, and a sheriff.” He took a swallow of his beer. It wasn’t bad at all for a place like this. “Does this town have a mayor?”
“No, just a town council, but that’ll probably change soon the way the place is growing. If you want my opinion, the longer we can get along as we are, the better.” Neil stopped wiping glasses and gave Nathan a sharp look in the mirror that hung behind the bar. “You want the job?”
“No. Don’t want to be a doctor or a banker, either… but I’ve been a sheriff.”
Neil’s mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. “Good luck, friend. It wouldn’t be an easy job.”
“Probably not.” Nathan caught himself peering into the back hallway, looking for Lena. He shook his head and grinned when Neil noticed. “Who’s on the council?”
“You won’t see Lena this early. She went out a while ago and hasn’t come back yet. As for the council, there’s the blacksmith, John Reeves, and the storekeeper, Frank Baker. The minister’s there, too. And Dale Turner – he’s got the biggest ranch hereabouts, and he represents the folks who live
outside of town, but do their business here. Then, there’s Harriet Grant. They meet once a month, or when something comes up.”
“Mrs. Grant’s on the council?”
Neil chuckled. “She sure is. One of the members died a couple of years back and no one else wanted the job. Harriet’s a sharp one, and her boarding house is the only place to go for a decent meal. When she talks, it’s wise to listen.”
Nathan had seen enough of his landlady already to believe that. “So the council’s responsible for hiring town officials?”
“Yeah, only they haven’t hired any yet. They’re meeting tomorrow night, I think.”
Nathan finished his beer and slipped off the stool. He’d found out what he needed to know. “Thanks, Neil. See you around.”
Back in his room Nathan sat by the window, watching the street. Lena was down there, sitting on one of the benches in front of the saloon. She’d tossed a shawl over her bare shoulders and piled her hair on top of her head with a few randomly placed hairpins. It made her look younger and somehow more vulnerable. Her laughter floated up to the window when she bantered with a man walking by. Nathan laughed at himself.
You can’t afford the money or the distraction. The cash he’d given Mrs. Grant was a good portion of what he had. If he couldn’t convince the town to hire him as sheriff within a week or two, making room and board would get dicey, but it wouldn’t be the first time. Other towns had hired him. Why should things to be any different here?
He sure hoped they’d pay in advance.
* * *
Beth peered into the small blue crock on the Kinsleys’ kitchen counter. “That’s the starter,” Maddy told her. “I’ve got a spare jar. I can let you have some to take home. I’ll show you how to make it another day. For the bread, take some lukewarm water and add a bit of sugar and some starter.”
Maddy added the ingredients to her bread bowl and mixed them with a practiced hand. “Then you add salt. Don’t forget it. It controls the yeast. Leave it out and the bread will puff up and collapse. Now you mix in flour till it forms a dough. After you’ve done it a few times, you get to know what it should feel like.” Maddy stirred the mixture, threw in another handful of flour, and stirred again. “Then you turn it out and knead it for a while.”
She pulled the sticky dough from the bowl and dropped it on the counter.
Beth sighed and prodded it with a finger. “I’ll never remember how much of everything to use. And how long is a while?”
The corners of Maddy’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “It takes time and practice, Beth. You’ll get it.”
Easy for Maddy to smile. She wasn’t the one trying to master an overwhelming number of new tasks and failing at almost every turn. “I certainly hope so, for Trey’s sake. You should have tasted the hash I made for lunch today. All he’d say about it was that he’d eaten worse.”
“I’ll bet he has. You knead for about ten minutes, I guess.” Maddy began working the dough, then after about five minutes passed it over to Beth.
She felt very clumsy as she tried to imitate Maddy’s smooth rhythm. Her arms ached by the time Maddy said the dough looked right.
“Now you let it rise till it’s twice this size. Put it in a bowl, cover it with a damp cloth and put it somewhere warm, but not too warm. At your place, the kitchen dresser should be fine. It’ll take a few hours. I usually mix my bread last thing at night, then get up early to finish it. You punch it down, then put it in the pans – do you have any bread pans?”
“Yes, I saw some in the dresser.”
“Good. You only make the loaf about half the size of the pan, because it’s going to rise again. When it’s doubled in size, it’s ready to go in the oven. Bake it about forty minutes. When it’s done, it’ll sound hollow if you tap on it.”
“How do you know if the oven’s hot enough?”
“You throw some flour in and see how long it takes to burn. Like this.” Maddy threw a pinch of flour in her oven and Beth counted the seconds until it browned. “I’ve got a batch of bread ready to go in. You might as well stay till it’s done and have some.”
Maddy tucked the bread pans into the oven and pulled the kettle to the middle of the stove. “Trey told us you were living in Denver, but that was all he said. Where are you from?”
Beth gave her a brief history while she washed her hands. “I thought you had to be from some place back east,” Maddy said. “You must find it so different out here.”
“I do. You know, Maddy, I could probably count on my two hands the number of times I’ve been completely alone anywhere. I guess you’re used to being alone in several square miles of country, but I’m not – not yet.”
Maddy wiped her hands on her apron and joined Beth at the table. She’d created a cheerful space here, with blue gingham curtains at the windows and a braided rug on the sand-scrubbed pine floor. A sideboard painted the same blue as the curtains took the place of a counter, and a matching pantry cupboard filled one corner. Beth had never realized how welcoming a kitchen could be.
“Does it bother you?”
“Sometimes, but there are things I like about it, too.”
A reminiscent smile spread across Maddy’s face. “I was eighteen when I married. Will and I went to live on his farm, fifty miles from the town where I grew up. I’d never been away from home for more than two nights at a time. For the first couple of months I think I cried a bit every day.”
“Will?” Beth had assumed that Maddy and Logan had been married forever. They seemed so comfortable as a couple.
“Logan’s my second husband. We’ve only been married six years. As a girl, I worked in the store in my hometown, and Will came in for supplies every couple of months. He started hanging around to chat. Oh, he had a smile, and he could talk the hind leg off a mule.” Maddy’s eyes shone at the memory. “One day I realized I was in love with him. The next time he came to town I told him so, and he said he loved me, too. The circuit preacher happened to be in town, so we talked to my parents and we were married that night.”
From Maddy’s expression, she’d never regretted it. Beth thought of all the rules, the proprieties that were part of courtship in the world she knew. “You just… told Will you loved him?”
Maddy nodded, eyes twinkling. “Not exactly ladylike, was I? But I knew I wouldn’t see him again for two more months, and the preacher wouldn’t be back for another six. There wasn’t much time to lead up to it. Then, three months later I was pregnant.”
Beth struggled to imagine giving birth on a farm even more remote than Trey’s. Her married friends had all given birth with family members and a doctor in attendance, as well as a nurse to look after them and the child afterwards. But if she stayed with Trey and they had children, her experience would be a lot more like Maddy’s. “You must have been frightened.”
“That’s the truth.” Maddy sighed, then smiled again. “But I was as happy as I was scared. Will was with me when David was born, and everything turned out fine. He’s in California now, married and happy. We had just the one, but we had twenty-four good years together. Sometimes you just know it’s right.”
“What happened to Will?”
“He had a heart attack. It was sudden and quick.” Maddy’s voice turned thoughtful. “I believe in fate, Beth. Will was given so many days on this earth, no more. I think we all are. And David, well, he had itchy feet. I knew he wasn’t really interested in farming, so after Will died I sold the place and moved back to town. I got a job in a new restaurant that had opened there, and a year later Logan walked in. He stayed in town that winter. His wife had passed away two years before, and his children were grown and gone. He’d sold his farm and come looking for new country to explore. In the spring, we were married and came out here.”
Beth could tell Maddy hadn’t regretted that decision either. “It must be comforting to feel so sure.”
Maddy moved to the stove and filled the teapot. “Beth, you’ve got as much nerve as I ever had and then some. I
wonder if you know it. It’s none of my business, I know, but why did you decide to come out here?”
On the surface, it was an easy enough question to answer. “My aunt and uncle were gone, and I didn’t want to be dependent on my cousin. I really can’t say anything against Graham. He’s always been good to me in his way, but he has very definite ideas about a woman’s place.” So much for the surface.
She continued. “It’s hard to explain, but I wanted something of my own, something I’d chosen, not something that was chosen for me or given to me. I never had that growing up, and if I’d stayed with my cousin or gone anywhere back east, it would have been the same. Does that make any sense?”
Maddy nodded and set the teapot on the table. “It does. You know, Beth, I’ve never had money or fine things like you did, but I’ve had freedom, and I like it. I guess you do, too.” She held Beth’s gaze as she filled their cups. “Do you think you’ll stay?”
Beth looked down at Trey’s ring on her finger. She hadn’t taken it off since he put it there, but she’d been tempted to. It felt foreign to her, like it still belonged to him. “I wish I knew. Trey’s certainly not like anyone I’ve ever met before.”
“I’m sure he isn’t. Before the war, he might have been more like the men you’re used to, but not anymore. People change out here. You’ll change if you stay.”
“I guess I’ll have to.” Beth imagined the look on Graham’s face if he saw her with a gun in her hand. “Yesterday Trey started teaching me to shoot. It scared me half to death. He can be very curt, but when he’s talking about his family or handling his horses he’s different, though I’m not sure he realizes it. It surprised me to find out he served in the Union army.”
“We didn’t find that out until his second summer here. I’m an incurable busybody and Logan took to Trey from the start, so we sort of took him under our wing, or tried to.” Maddy shook her head as she stirred cream into her cup. “He hardly had two words to say the first few times he came to the house. He filed on his land and he worked as if a devil was driving him. He looked like it, too. We told him he’d kill himself, but he just said he slept better after a hard day’s work. Logan helped him when he could, but he had his own work to do. We’d just finished this house.”
To Capture the Sky (Choices of the Heart, book 2) Page 5