Montana Courage (McCutcheon Family Series Book 9)

by Caroline Fyffe

  Poppy had even taken her sister into her bedroom, so they could speak in private, but all Kathryn could do was gush about how relieved she was that Poppy was alive, and how much she loved her. The decision was made that Poppy would return to the farm and stay with them there until she could make the trip back to Boston.

  Oscar turned down the offer, opting to take a room at the boarding house as he waited for Dr. Handerhoosen to return. He’d said he couldn’t stay another night in the hotel.

  “Poppy,” Kathryn said, sitting at a table in the dining room where they were having tea. “The plight of those poor orphans has been weighing on my mind—heavily.” She raised the cup to her lips and took a sip. “I know you expressed your desire to keep them, but you’re so young, and not yet married. Would that be a wise decision?”

  “At least until their relatives are found and informed. And some decisions have been made,” Poppy said a bit defensively. Kathryn doubted she was grown up enough to care for July, May, and April?

  “Actually, what I was thinking was we should bring them to the farm. Then, besides you, who would be their primary guardian, I could help too. And Tobit, as well as Isaiah. Between the four of us, how difficult could the task be? Our house has plenty of room.”

  Here she was again, as usual, being an angel on earth—and Poppy loved her all the more. Still, Poppy couldn’t decide a single thing until she confessed, told Kathryn exactly how she felt and why she’d left in the first place.

  “Thank you, Kathryn. That’s so generous. I don’t know what to say.”

  Kathryn set her cup into its saucer and studied her sister’s face. “First, I’d say tell me what’s troubling you. You’re not yourself. Yesterday I thought the reason was all the life-and-death scenarios you’ve been thrust into lately, but now I think something more is involved.” She reached out and took Poppy’s hand. “Remember back when we were girls? You used to tell me everything. You still can. You can trust me.”

  Heat rushed to Poppy’s face. Her eyes pricked as they filled with tears.

  “What?” Kathryn asked, alarmed. “What’s happened? Oscar? Shad?”

  Poppy stared into her lukewarm tea. She’d been wanting this chance, and now it was here.

  “Please. You’re frightening me.”

  “The problem concerns me, Kathryn.”

  Kathryn tipped her head. Her brows inched together as she waited.

  “And you. I—I just want to tell you how sorry I am for the way I’ve treated you over the years.”

  Kathryn pulled back. “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “I’ve been condescending, critical, and mean. And all the while, you’re always kind and forgiving. I’ve taken a good long look at myself and don’t like what I see. I’m spoiled and self-centered. I wish I could be more like you, but I never seem to measure up, even when I try. I just want you to know that I realize my shortcomings now. I’m a horrible person, but I’m trying to change.”

  Poppy lifted her cup for a sip of tea, but it jiggled so violently that she had to set it back on the table.

  Kathryn stood and came around to scoot in close on Poppy’s side of the booth. She took both Poppy’s hands into hers. “First off, you’re not a horrible person. You’re spunky. Filled with life. I’m honored to call you my sister.”

  The tears spilled down Poppy’s cheeks.

  “Second, if you ever were mean to me, which I’m not saying you were, then you’ve come by it naturally. You’ve had a good teacher in Father. He belittles me all the time, or he did, when I lived at home. Mother has told me in some of her letters that he is changing quite a bit.” She smiled kindly, took out her handkerchief, and dried Poppy’s tears. “But all those hurt feelings from him are in my past, and I don’t let them bother me. Ever. I’ve been given a second chance at happiness. I love my life and wouldn’t trade it for all the tea in China.”

  Poppy swallowed back her misery. “I’m so sorry. Please say you’ve forgiven me.”

  “If doing so will make you feel better, then yes, you’re forgiven. To tell you the truth, I hardly remember anything but happiness when I think of you. So this is difficult to imagine you feeling this way.”

  A tidal wave of liberation washed over Poppy. All these weeks had been pure misery, reliving every slight, intended or not, she’d dealt her sister over the years. Joy and happiness filled every inch of her body, and she couldn’t stop a huge smile. Shad had been right.

  “Thank you,” she gushed and flung herself into Kathryn’s arms. “Thank you, dear sister. I promise to be the best sister in the world. Starting over feels wonderful. I’m so relieved to finally say I’m sorry.”

  Only one question remained and it was a puzzling one. She slowly pulled back from Kathryn’s arms and looked into her sister’s eyes.

  “But why do you think Father treats you the way he does? I don’t understand.”

  Kathryn blinked and looked away. Poppy couldn’t refute the pain she saw there.

  “Some things are better off left unsaid.”

  Kathryn’s tone was measured and controlled, but laced with sadness. She knew the answer, but wasn’t saying.

  “The best thing you can do is say a little prayer for Father, and forgive him with all your heart. Take it from me; I know.” Kathryn winked. Her dimples appeared on either side of her beautiful, wide smile.

  Everything was going to be all right. Unable to stop herself, Poppy threw herself into her sister’s arms again, so thankful for new beginnings. She couldn’t wait to share this new beginning with Shad. Tell him he’d been right all along. That moment would be very special indeed.

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Four Months Later, May 1887

  With a heavy heart, Luke handed down Esperanza from the buggy at the church cemetery as Flood assisted Claire on the other side. Most of the snow had melted, except for a few small patches. The harsh, unforgiving winter months had passed, but a crisp spring wind still had them bundled in coats.

  More cattle had perished that winter than anyone could have ever have imagined in their worst nightmares. Some neighbors died too. Handfuls of ranchers had been completely wiped out by the devastating loss.

  The Heart of the Mountains had survived because of their early sell-off in November. For that remarkable forethought, Luke was thankful, but the action didn’t take the sting out of the thought of all those cattle dying from starvation as well as the fierce temperatures. The tragedy was sickening, at best.

  Once the herds of cattle had begun to perish by the tens of thousands, the ranchers’ problems with the wolves had abated. But they would still need to take action so they didn’t run into the same problem next winter.

  At the sound of crunching wheels in mud and dirt, Luke glanced to the road to see the wagon that bore Uncle Pete’s coffin slowly making its way toward them. The other overwhelming loss. Sadness had prevailed over all the houses on the ranch because of the cowboy’s death, as well as the state of the widespread suffering. A hundred years would need to pass before anyone forgot the blizzard of 1887.

  Ike sat holding the lines on the buckboard seat, with Lucky at his side. The coffin was draped in a colorful Mexican blanket, one that had been Uncle Pete’s favorite. The rest of the hands, as well as the new Petty brothers and Hickory, rode two by two in a long procession behind the rig, all mourning their comrade in their own way, either lost in memory or just plain sad.

  Luke glanced back to the spot under several quaking aspens on the far side of the cemetery where other hands from the ranch had been laid to rest.

  The preacher waited by Uncle Pete’s final resting place with some townsfolk. A somber-faced Mark and Matt, and their wives and children, Amy and Rachel holding their new sons, as well as Faith and Luke’s brood. Roady and a very pregnant Sally. Chance and Evie Holcomb, with baby Garth. Evie’s friend, Margaret Seymour from St. Louis, was at their side.

  Mr. Lichtenstein and Mr. Simpson, his clerk. Brandon and Charity. The new deputy
, Justin Wesley, his bullwhip fastened on his hip. Morgan and June. Berta May, as well as Hildy, Lenore, Harold, Lou, and Drit. Trent Herrick held the arm of his ailing father, next to the short Mr. Tracy. All the Klinkners. Abe and Fancy stood on the outer circle, both knowing Uncle Pete well from his time spent at the Hitching Post.

  Kathryn and her sister Poppy were there, each holding one of the orphaned twins in their arms. The boy, July, stood near Tobit and Isaiah, kicking his toe at something in the grass.

  Judge Harrison Wesley, the deputy’s father and also the circuit judge, had come through Y Knot last month, and sentenced the couple to life in the penitentiary for kidnapping the Sanger children and murdering their father. The felons were gone and life was back to normal, as much as it could be.

  Today was a sad day for Luke.

  For the ranch.

  For Y Knot.

  Poppy. Shad was riding toward the end of the processional with his brothers and Francis when he spotted her next to her sister and the young’uns. He hadn’t seen her since walking out of her life in January. He’d made a point of making the break quick and final.

  Every night for three months, he’d dreamed about the kiss they’d shared, the feel of her lips, and the storm of feelings it created. And each time, he’d awaken in a sweat to find he was still in the bunkhouse. Just this last month, he was beginning to feel human again, like maybe his life was still worth living, at least a little. Now here she was to start that familiar ache all over again.

  Actually, he was shocked Poppy was still in town. The stage had started service a month or so ago. He’d have figured her long gone by now. What would she say? And how would he answer?

  The ranch hands dismounted and tied their horses to any spot they could find. Chance joined them and helped carry the coffin off the wagon bed. With so many helping, the burden was light. From the corner of his eye, Shad noticed Mrs. McCutcheon dabbing her eyes with a white kerchief. Soon other women were doing the same. The men walked slowly, carrying Uncle Pete for his last ride through the churchyard. Ike and John couldn’t stop full-force tears.

  They set the simple pine box on the ropes that had been laid out, and then lowered Uncle Pete into his grave. The group was silent, as well as the animals and insects. There wasn’t a single sound except the gentle clacking of the aspen leaves. The preacher said a few words followed by a prayer, and then Flood McCutcheon stepped forward and gave an accounting of how Uncle Pete had come to the ranch, how he’d stayed on for years. What Uncle Pete’s loyalty meant to him and his family. Flood had to stop a few times and get a hold of his emotions.

  Halfway through, little baby Garth took to crying. Chance escorted his wife and her friend away toward town, being pressed back by the chilly north wind.

  After Flood finished, a handful of the men shared a funny anecdote or a touching good-bye. All in all, the service lasted a good hour.

  “May God bless you and keep you,” Reverend Crittlestick proclaimed loudly. “Thank you all for coming out to show your respect and say your good-byes to a fine man. I know Uncle Pete would have appreciated every single one of you here.”

  Casper Slack, the town troubadour, stood a few feet away under the trees. With his nimble fingers, he began a soft rendition of “Amazing Grace” on his mandolin. Ike pulled out his harmonica and softly played along.

  Conversation started. People pulled away and began their walk down the road to Y Knot, clutching their coat collars around their necks. Men went for buggies and wagons as the women waited.

  Feeling like a coward, Shad stayed with Tanner, Nick, Francis, and Pedro, hoping Poppy and her group would pass them by without stopping. And yet, he wanted to seek her out and talk all night. There was no winning in this situation.

  No use. They were headed his way.

  “Well, let’s get to the Hitching Post,” Tanner said, looking at him and then around the group.

  Francis nodded. “Sure. Heard the other fellas saying they were gonna drink a few last whiskeys to Uncle Pete. Say good-bye.” He started away with Pedro following.

  Shad caught sight of Poppy. She and her sister were almost to him and his brothers with the twins in their arms. The young’uns looked healthy, happy, and clean, the girls dressed in matching coats, gloves, and bows. Tobit, Isaiah, and July were still hanging back, speaking with Mr. Lichtenstein.

  Feeling like a kid, Shad swallowed nervously.

  “Mr. Petty,” Kathryn said in her smooth Boston accent. After giving him a smile, she glanced at his brothers. “Gentlemen.”

  Poppy just looked at him, little May snuggled against her chest like a shield.

  He couldn’t read her blank expression, but something told him she was steaming mad. “Mrs. Preece,” he replied respectfully, forcing a smile onto his lips. “Miss Ford.”

  For some odd reason, Nick and Tanner exchanged a dubious look.

  “Girls.” Shad reached forward and gave each little cherub a gentle rub on the head, bringing a swift jolt of melancholy. “I’d like you to meet my brothers, Nick and Tanner.” He pointed to each as he said their names. “This is Mrs. Preece and Miss Ford, sisters from Boston.”

  “We’re pleased to meet you,” Kathryn said.

  Poppy offered a wan smile and nodded. She was being unusually quiet.

  Much to Shad’s relief, his brothers added to the introductions.

  “The pleasure is ours,” Tanner finally said.

  Nick touched the rim of his hat. “Yeah.”

  Shoot. This was uncomfortable. Would he ever get over her?

  “We’d best be on our way. We don’t want to have to wait for a table at the Biscuit Barrel,” Kathryn said, glancing down the road where most of the congregation had gone.

  Just as they were moving away, Poppy laid a hand on her sister’s arm. “Kathryn, would you please take May with you to the Biscuit Barrel? I’ll only be a minute. I’d like to speak with Mr. Petty, if he can spare the time.”

  Her blue eyes glimmered like sapphires in the icy Montana sunlight, bringing a jolt of excitement to his numb insides.

  She lifted her chin. “Well?” she asked none too nicely. “Do you have time?”

  “Sure,” he replied and held out his arm. “We can take a little walk, catch up with each other.”

  Tanner cuffed Nick on the shoulder. “Come on, brother. We’ll see you at the saloon, Shad.” The two hurried away.

  “Good-bye, ma’am, miss, and, er, girls,” one of them mumbled.

  Ripples of pleasure moved up Shad’s arm from Poppy’s small gloved hand. A million memories cascaded through his head, followed by a million warnings.

  He couldn’t go there. He couldn’t. Imagining possibilities wasn’t fair to Poppy.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  When they started down the street toward the Biscuit Barrel directly behind her sister and the children, Poppy couldn’t stop her anger building inside. Shad meant to be rid of her just as fast as possible, without saying a word. Well, she’d not have it.

  “Where’re you taking me?” she asked. She risked a look up his tall build into his face for clues, but couldn’t see any.

  “You’ll know soon enough. Don’t go gettin’ mad.”

  Too late. She’d been mad for months, hurt and confused. She’d thought they had something between them. We did have something between us. She could feel the attraction now, zipping around like a flock of hummingbirds on a newly blossomed honeysuckle vine.

  To her surprise, they passed the crowded eatery as her sister and girls entered, and continued around back, heading across the expanse of soft spring grass toward the empty gazebo. Fine. He wasn’t such a cad, but close.

  Shad led her up the two steps, and she pulled her hand away. He went to the far side, brought back a chair, and placed it facing the other.

  “Have a seat,” he said.

  She got comfortable as sounds from the restaurant floated across the field. Things could be so different. They should be so different. They should be in th
e Biscuit Barrel with the children and the rest of her family, enjoying the day. Laughing and loving. She glared at him when he sat.

  “Poppy,” he said softly. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. That wasn’t my intention.”

  Her anger vanished, replaced with blinding pain. This was the end. Shad didn’t love her like she loved him. He was letting her down easy, if you could call the last excruciating months of agony by that description. After all this time spent wondering what he was thinking, she couldn’t stop the scalding tears from falling.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice clogged with emotion. “Don’t cry.” He dug around inside his coat and pulled out a handkerchief. “Go on; take it. It’s clean.”

  Poppy wiped her eyes, all the while carefully keeping her gaze from his. How could he? After all they’d been through.

  He grasped the edges of his chair and hopped it closer until their knees were almost touching. They sat in silence.

  She stared down at the cloth clutched in her hands, feeling as if time was standing still. But it wasn’t. He’d soon say good-bye for the last time, and she’d never have this chance again. If she wanted to talk, she’d better get started.

  “I thought you liked me,” she finally whispered. “I believed all those nights talking in the lobby of the hotel meant something to you, as they did to me.”

  He remained silent, his boot toe tapping the stage.

  “And the kiss?” She glanced up. He stared at her with the most agonized look she’d ever seen. “Won’t you say anything? Am I that insignificant to you that you can’t utter a word?”

  He shot to his feet and paced to the far side of the gazebo, looking out at the vista.

  “Shad,” she called, standing as well, her anger edging out her pain. “Shad? Say something. Even if it’s, ‘You got it all wrong, Poppy. I was just being friendly. That was just a sociable little kiss. And besides—good-bye.’” She huffed loudly. “My gosh, we’re not toddlers.”