Montana Courage (McCutcheon Family Series Book 9)

by Caroline Fyffe

  “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

  “I’ve rented the sleigh from the livery. I thought you’d like to go for a ride.”

  She glanced at the window. The street was still abandoned. Was an outing safe?

  “Really? I thought Mr. Petty said he’d let us know when going out was possible. Everything is still frozen. I’m surprised June Pittman would rent the sleigh.”

  “I told her I just intended to go up and down Main Street a few times. I’m going stir-crazy in here. I’m sure you are, as well—or at least, the ‘old’ Poppy I used to know would be.”

  Oscar had a point. “Yes, I am a bit. At least now, when the children are napping. There’s only so much to do. But I’m not sure I want to brave the temperatures. We’ll freeze, Ossy. And once we get back inside, warming up will take so long. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “That’s what I told June Pittman, but not what I have planned.” He lowered his voice so only she could hear. “How would you like to ride out to see Kathryn? The way you’ve been moping around, I thought seeing your sister would cheer you up. Quick ride there, visit for an hour, and then quick ride back. We won’t even be missed.”

  “Kathryn?”

  Hope jumped in her chest. Maybe she and Kathryn could have that talk. She could tell her how sorry she was. An honest discourse wouldn’t fix everything, or pay for Poppy’s past, but it might be a start. If Shad was right, maybe Kathryn would understand and forgive her. Maybe then Poppy could start with a clean slate and be the sister she should have been all her life.

  “You’re being very quiet. I can see I’ve caught your interest.”

  His sly smile almost made her say no.

  “What do you think?” he asked again. “If you’re game, I can have the sleigh out back in fifteen minutes. We can be to the ranch in time for ten o’clock tea, and be back here for the noon meal. But you’ll have to decide quickly.”

  “Why would you go to all this trouble?” she couldn’t help asking.

  “I told you why, but you didn’t believe me. I love you. And I—”

  Poppy held up her hand. “Please, Ossy. Don’t. Nothing you do or say will change my mind. That’s all. Nothing.”

  He heaved a deep sigh. “Fine. I still want to do this for you, if you want to go. Kathryn will be relieved to see you, as well. I’m sure she’s worried about her little sister.”

  Poppy nibbled her bottom lip. She knew the way and so did he. The farm wasn’t that far. If they went directly there, the trip would only take about twenty-five minutes. That wasn’t long. The temperature was still cold, but not as bad as during the storm. They could handle that, couldn’t they?

  “Well?”

  She threw caution to the wind. “All right. As long as Hildy agrees to see to the children when they wake.”

  His lips pulled down in an ugly frown. “The children,” he repeated in an irritated tone, “are not your responsibility.”

  She pointed at his chest. “You hush.”

  “Fine. I’ll knock two times softly on the kitchen door when I’m out there.”

  Excitement surged inside. Here was her chance. If she could speak with Kathryn today, get some of her feelings, guilt and more, off her chest, Poppy would be able to deal with as many winters as she fancied. Kathryn was who she hurt for, not herself.

  The sleigh ride was much slower than Poppy had anticipated. She’d expected to get in, get covered, and arrive at the Preece farm in the same amount of time it took a buggy. And that most likely would have been the case if the road had been traveled. But no other sleighs had been out that way. Their poor horse had to trudge slowly through the virgin snow, breaking a trail.

  Poppy scooted closer to Oscar in an attempt to feel a little of his body heat. Minutes ago, her feet had turned to blocks of ice.

  “Oscar, I think we should turn back. This is much more difficult than I’d anticipated. I had no idea the road would be this hard going. The poor gelding is already worn out. Look at the animal.” She set her gloved hand on Oscar’s to get his attention, because he appeared lost in thought. “Oscar, did you hear a word I said? An hour has passed, and the sky has turned dark. I don’t like the feel of this at all. We shouldn’t have come. I’m getting worried.”

  “Stop nagging,” he retorted in his usual arrogant way. Little ice crystals had formed on his cheeks, and his blue lips looked painful.

  “Look. It’s beginning to snow.” She stretched out a gloved hand and caught a few white flakes.

  “We’ve already passed the Holcombs’,” Oscar bit out. “We’ll be to the farm soon. Just be patient.”

  “But the snow, Oscar! We won’t be able to get back.”

  “So we’ll stay at Kathryn’s. I’d think you’d like that better, anyway.”

  Under normal circumstances, yes, she would. But now she had the children to think about. If she didn’t return, they’d think she’d abandoned them. July was opening up more and more about his family. She’d not let him and the girls down. Doing so would break their hearts. And Shad. What would he think?

  “I can’t stay away that long. The children depend on me. Staying at the farm isn’t fair to Hildy and Lenore.”

  The children now slept in her room, and they felt like a family. The girls were so affectionate, and July was just a doll. No, her heart said, they should turn around this moment while they still could.

  “I’ve changed my mind. I want to go back.”

  The snow was now falling in earnest. The flakes were small, but moving fast. Her stomach tightened as warning bells went off in her mind. What was Oscar thinking?

  “Ossy, did you hear me?”

  “I did,” he said, giving her a sideways glance. “And I don’t appreciate your tone. You don’t care about those children. You want to go back because you’re afraid of missing that man.”

  “Oscar? What’s gotten into you?”

  He went on as if he hadn’t heard her. “Shad Petty. He’s mesmerized you. You’ve lost all sense of reality. You’re living in a dime-novel pretend world.” He looked at her through narrowed eyes, his mouth pinched tight. “I won’t let you do it, Poppy Alexandria Ford. I won’t let you throw away your life like Kathryn has.”

  “You don’t have a say in anything I do.”

  Angry, she grasped his arm and jerked, trying to shake off the hate-filled look he’d just cast her way. The confused horse threw his head.

  “Turn around this instant,” she shouted, fear sprouting in her chest. “If you don’t, you’ll regret your decision for the rest of your life.”

  Oscar laughed. He actually laughed.

  This was a serious situation, and he was treating it like it was some silly childhood game. She remembered what a bad loser he was, how he’d pout for days if she bested him at anything. What was going on in that head, to be so mulish at a dangerous time? She had to get through to him fast, but she also needed to be careful not to send him into one of the pouting fits that would keep him silent for hours.

  “I know seeing Kathryn would be nice and would calm my nerves after worrying about her, but I’m cold,” she said softly, scooting closer to his side. “Really cold. Aren’t you, Ossy? Aren’t you cold?” When he didn’t respond, she shook his arm. “And I’m scared. I’d like to go back—please.”

  The snowfall was now a dense white wall.

  What should she do? How could she make him understand? Something inside said this situation was far different from any she’d encountered in her life.

  “Oscar,” she yelled. “Look at me.”

  He turned, displaying the heated wrath in his eyes.

  She gasped. Something was wrong with Oscar. He was thinking horrible things. She needed to get through to him or they wouldn’t live to see the light of another day. In a swift move, she grasped the right line and hauled back, trying to turn the sleigh around.

  Surprised, the horse jerked sideways, making the icy rails of the sleigh slide askew in the crusted snow. A little f
arther in the turn and the sleigh would be headed back to town.

  She and Oscar fought for the lines, him cursing words she’d never heard cross his lips. He yanked the lines from her hands and shoved her to the other side of the seat.

  Shocked at his behavior, Poppy then heard a deep, menacing growl.

  The horse reared in his harness. When his front hooves landed, he kicked out behind and bolted, taking them down the side of the embankment.

  Poppy screamed, grasping for something that would keep her from being thrown out. The sleigh felt like it was flying.

  Suddenly, they jolted to a stop, snapping her head forward. Stars danced before her eyes, and pain gripped her.

  The sleigh, wedged between two aspens, tipped slightly to one side. The poor horse fought for release, but the harness and underbrush kept him trapped where he stood. After several minutes of frantic struggle, the animal quieted, then stood knee-deep in the snow, quivering in fear.

  They weren’t going anywhere at all.

  Where was Oscar?

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  “I’d best begin that apple pie, if I want to be finished with it by the time I need to make the noon meal.”

  Margaret set aside the book she’d been reading on the yellow settee since the breakfast dishes had been washed, dried, and put away. So much waiting gave her plenty of time for worry and speculation.

  “In a few hours the men will be back inside, ready to eat a wagonload of food for lunch. Seriously, Evelyn, I don’t know how you’ve done it these last few months without me. When I cooked for the colonel, he was one man. One man who ate a lot, yes, but compared to your two ranchers, that was nothing. They eat more than I’d have guessed any two people could.”

  “The cold weather coupled with ranch chores makes them hungry,” Evelyn replied, closing her own book.

  “But they ate a whole pie the other day—in one sitting.”

  Evelyn nodded, glancing at the fire. “I know, Margaret, feeding two men can be daunting at times.”

  Margaret was sure her dear girl would be happy to finally deliver. She’d washed and fixed her hair, but she was looking quite large these days. She wasn’t eating much and her sleep was topsy-turvy.

  “I’m glad I’m here to help then. When I go for the pie fixings in the cellar, what do you want me to bring up for supper? I’ll need to get that on soon. The pork roast? The leftover meatloaf will do fine for lunch. I believe enough of that is left.” She was running off at the mouth, but Margaret couldn’t help herself. Two days had elapsed since the conversation about Estelle, and Evelyn had been quiet ever since. “When will Chance and Andy be in? Did Chance say?”

  As she smiled and shook her head, Evelyn climbed slowly to her feet. “Actually, this totally slipped my mind. With the weather holding, he and Andy decided to snowshoe over to the Preece farm. He said somehow a heifer got out last night, and they’re hoping she ended up there. If she did, Chance wants to make sure Tobit puts her in the barn. Chance is worried about her.”

  As I’m worried about you.

  “By crossing the back pasture, the distance isn’t far at all. I’m sure they’ll be home before suppertime.” Evelyn glanced at the clock and gave her a wide smile. “Nice that we don’t have to worry about fixing their lunch.” She patted her stomach. “Just ours.”

  Gone? Chance was gone?

  Margaret had thought he was spending the day in the barn, like he did more often than not, working on this or that. He must have told Evelyn his plans when Margaret went to her room to get dressed for the day.

  “That’s fine,” she said calmly. “I look forward to the meatloaf. It was delicious.” She went to the cellar door in the hall by her bedroom. “The pork roast? For supper?”

  Evelyn smiled and nodded. “Thank you. You’re such a help.”

  “And I’m happy to be so. While I’m down there, what else would you like me to grab? Another jar of strawberry preserves? The one we have is almost gone. Potatoes?”

  “Anything that suits your fancy, Margaret, suits me as well.” Evelyn was at the sink, working the pump for a glass of water.

  “Yes, well then.”

  Margaret hastened down the steps. Thankfully, Chance hadn’t made them as narrow as in most homes. They were steep but manageable. A rush of frigid, musty-smelling air hit her face. At the bottom, she took a moment to light a candle, for the area had no windows. She worked in the light that streamed down from upstairs.

  Once she had the candle burning, she went to the back of the room where Chance hung his meat. She sought the medium-sized pork thigh and, going up on tiptoe, hefted the chunk of cloth-covered meat from its high hook. Walking along the wall, she stuck six large potatoes into the oversized pocket on the front of her blue apron, and imagined herself looking much like Evelyn.

  Moving slowly, she proceeded to the shelf with cans and jars and lifted her candle close. Finding the preserves, Margaret secured the jar of jam in the crook of the arm that held the meat, hugging it to her body, after which she reached for two jars of canned apples for the filling.

  At the stairs, and in the light from above, she stopped and reorganized the items in her arms so she wouldn’t lose anything on the trip up. She blew out the candle and left it where it belonged.

  Emerging from the hallway, Margaret caught sight of Evelyn and the food dropped from her hands, jars breaking on the floor in a crash.

  Evelyn was perched on the edge of a kitchen chair, her forehead resting on her arm stretched across the table. Her other hand clenched her stomach as a puddle of liquid spread on the floor beneath her.

  “Evelyn!” Margaret rushed over, gently taking her shoulders. “What happened?”

  Evelyn’s breath shuddered out in staccato rhythm. “M-my water has broken. I’m having a contraction. Wait a moment until it passes.”

  Horrified, Margaret stepped back, her mind assessing the situation at hand. Unless Chance came home soon, she would have no help. Evelyn would not deliver in town with the doctor. She’d have her baby here, at home, with an inexperienced woman who’d never had a child of her own.

  Snapping herself out of her astonishment, Margaret went to the linen closet and brought out two towels to mop up the floor, and another she tossed over the apples and jam she didn’t have time to clean up.

  Evelyn sat back, breathing heavily. Her face was white, her eyes large with fear. “It’s happening, Margaret. My baby is coming.”

  “Yes, I know, dear.” She gently took hold of her arm. “Let’s get you situated. I’ve heard that once your water breaks, heavy labor is not far away. I want to get you into that large bed while I still can.”

  Evelyn’s smile wobbled. She let Margaret lead her into the bedroom, all the while holding the bottom side of her large belly.

  Margaret stripped off Evelyn’s clothes over upstretched arms, as she’d done when Evelyn was small, and slipped on a clean nightgown. For the first time in days, the house was on the warm side, as was the bedroom. Again taking Evelyn’s arm, she helped her climb the small set of steps Chance had constructed to make getting into the enormous bed easier on his wife. After Evelyn was comfortable, Margaret pulled up the sheet and gently placed the blanket over the top.

  She smiled. “There, how’s that?”

  Evelyn reached out and took her hand. “You’ve always seen to my needs. Taken good care of me. I’m so relieved you’re here. I know you won’t let anything happen.” She gave a small smile. “That’s a good feeling.”

  With nerves pinging around her body, Margaret gently pulled away her hand. “Yes, I’m glad too, dear. Now, let me light a few lamps. The room is quite dark. And then I’m going to clean the mess off the floor.” In the last couple of minutes, dark clouds had moved across the sky, blocking out the sun. “I can barely see my hand in front of my face. I assume we’ll need to see what we’re doing.” She was unable to stop a nervous laugh.

  Evelyn relaxed back onto the pillows, a serene smile playing around her lips
.

  Margaret made a mental picture of the way she looked now. In a few hours, God willing, Evelyn would be a different person. A mother. With a healthy, happy babe at her breast.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  God help them! Shivers racked Poppy’s body from head to toe as she strained over the back of the sleigh to see if the wolf she’d heard had followed them down the slope. Was he out there, just waiting to attack?

  Her arm ached. She must have hit it on something during the crash. And she tasted blood in her mouth. She spat to the side, the sight of crimson splotches on white snow making her head spin. She struggled to catch her gasping breath. Where was Oscar? She didn’t see him anywhere.

  Again, the horse struggled to get free. He slipped and fell to his knees but regained his footing. His sides heaved, but soon his energy ran out and he quieted.

  There. Oscar. Facedown in the snow.

  Poppy climbed out of the contraption and fought the snow to the far side of the sleigh. Taking his shoulders, she heaved with all her might to roll him over, praying he was still alive. He was heavy and wet, and snow continued to fall. His lips, purple from the cold, stood out against his sallow complexion.

  “Oscar,” she cried, shaking his shoulders, but there was no response.

  Poor Oscar. We may have had our differences, but I’d never wish him dead. What should I do?

  Peeling off her glove, she shoved her hand under his coat collar, fingering through his layers of clothing as she searched for his skin. She should feel for a pulse, but she didn’t know how. Finally, under his coat, scarf, and several shirts, she pushed her fingertips to the base of his neck. She held her breath to stop the sound of her own ragged gasps.

  Nothing.

  Dazed, she sat back. Her head throbbed with pain.

  The frightened horse wriggled once more in his harness, snorting and pawing the snow. He’d be defenseless against wolves—as would they all.

  With her thoughts jumbled in her head, she stood and lumbered back to the tilted sleigh where she grasped one of the blankets and covered Oscar from the falling snow. She would like to get him back in the sleigh, to provide him with its protection, but he was much too large. She grasped Oscar’s arm and shook him again, but still he gave no response.