Miriam seemed to recover herself a bit then, and looked up at Ol’ Mose, still seated in the wagon watching them.
“If you’d like to put your mules in the barn, there’s plenty of hay and water there for ‘em. Then, come on in the house. I have coffee on and dinner should be just about ready by then.”
Leah marveled silently at the way the girl pulled herself together and suddenly became the lady of the house, as rustic as that house might be.
Ol’ Mose nodded. “Yes’m. I’m awful sorry to hear about your brother, Miz Miriam.”
Before she could respond, he slapped the reins and rumbled, “Giddup!”
Miriam turned back to Leah, her shy smile returning. “If you’d like to come on in now, I’ll fix ya a cup of coffee. I’d like it if you’d tell me all about yourself. I don’t get to visit with other women much, so you comin’ is a real treat.”
“Of course.” Leah followed her into the cabin.
If she’d thought the outside was rustic, the inside was close to primitive. They entered a large open room that appeared to be both kitchen and drawing room. On her left in the sitting area, a large fireplace dominated the wall, with a wooden mantel above and a few miscellaneous chairs placed in a semi-circle around. One of the seats was a rocking chair, reminding Leah of her favorite rocker in her childhood nursery.
Straight ahead and dividing the sitting area from the kitchen, were two closed doors, with a ladder between them that climbed the wall to an open area below the ceiling. How strange.
Leah turned her attention to the right where Miriam was scurrying between an iron cook stove and a work table. A few open shelves lined the wall, along with several barrels and leather sacks. Taking up most of the space, though, was a wood plank table with six ladder-back chairs around it.
“Please sit down.” Miriam gestured toward one of the chairs at the table. A mug graced the table in front of one of the seats, steam wafting from the liquid inside. “You’re probably worn out from the trip from Fort Benton.” She grimaced. “Although you may not want any more sittin’.”
“Thank you.” Leah moved forward to accept Miriam’s hospitality. “I don’t mind sitting as long as the chair doesn’t bounce around.” She smiled slightly at her own attempt at humor.
Miriam’s face broke into a wide grin, her shy smile gone and the magpie Leah had first seen fully returned. As Leah arranged her navy skirt around the chair, Miriam began cutting some kind of green leaves on the work table.
“I think your dress is the prettiest thing I’ve seen in years. Is that the style they’re wearing back east now?”
Leah frowned at her demure traveling suit. “This is the style of a traveling gown. Most day dresses and especially the evening gowns are much lovelier than this, with bright colors and heavy ruffles, especially over the bustle.”
Then she noticed the faded brown calico work dress Miriam wore, suddenly ashamed of her rambling. “But none of them are nearly so practical as the gown you’re wearing.”
She tried to think of another nice comment to make about Miriam’s dress—gown was really too strong of a word for the woebegone piece of material. Its length was almost too short both in the skirt and in the sleeves, even for Miriam’s petite body.
She didn’t seem embarrassed, though, and waved off Leah’s comment. “This ol’ thing has seen better days for sure. I need to make a new one, just haven’t found the time to go all the way to Butte for new calico.”
Leah was saved a response by the thump of boots on the porch and the light squeak of the front door. Ol’ Mose shuffled in, followed by a true, honest-to-goodness mountain man. He turned to shut the door, then hung his hat on the wall. Something about him struck her as familiar. His profile showed him to be a bit younger than the mountain men she’d imagined. He had a full beard and wavy brown hair that just covered his neck.
Then he turned toward them, and Leah saw those deep emerald eyes. Her heart leaped.
He was the man from the ferry, when she’d first arrived in St. Louis.
Butterflies flipped in her stomach as Leah looked again into his green gaze. Those eyes were an even deeper shade than Miriam’s, and the long green work shirt he wore accented them perfectly.
He was taller than she remembered. Next to Ol’ Mose, he looked like a giant. But he didn’t carry himself hunched over like most tall men she’d seen. He stood straight and confident in his own masculine skin.
~
There she was.
Was this a vision? Or was the woman from St. Louis actually sitting at his kitchen table? If he hadn’t lost his marbles, then how did she get here?
She sat poised and elegant, with a little hat perched on her head that would do absolutely nothin’ to protect her from the sun. Just like she’d come out of a New York City parlor room. And she was looking at him as if he had two heads and three arms.
“Gideon,” his baby sister piped up from the cook stove where she stirred something in the big pot, “I’d like to you meet Leah.”
He nodded a greeting in the general direction of the woman, and turned to hang his leather hat on the peg behind the door.
“Leah, this is my big brother Gideon.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bryant.”
Now there’s something he hadn’t been called in a month of Sundays…Mr. Bryant. Especially not in a voice that reminded him of the lullabies Ma used to sing when Miriam was a little tike. Just then, his traitor dog Drifter strolled right up to the lady, sniffed her outstretched hand, then wagged his tail wildly as she rubbed the sweet spot behind his ear. Gideon knew what that dazed look on the dog’s face meant. He’d found a soul mate.
He tried to keep his “harrumph” to himself, but by the warning look on Miriam’s face, it must have slipped out. Moving toward the shelf to grab a bowl, he motioned for Ol’ Mose to do the same. He stepped toward the stove and filled his dish almost to the brim with the beef stew, and was about to turn toward his usual place at the table, when Miriam put a hand on his arm to stop him.
“Gideon,” her voice was low, urgent. “Leah is the one who responded to Abel’s advertisement. She sent the telegram.”
Gideon froze, trying to make sense of what his sister had just said. “But…I sent a message telling her not to come.” Of all the nerve. She must be desperate for sure. He’d warned Abel not to place that silly ad.
The sadness was stronger in Miriam’s eyes than it had been the last few weeks. “She didn’t receive the message.” Then the sadness was joined by a glimmer of hope. “I want her to stay, though, Gideon. Can she stay?”
He knew if he said what he wanted to, it would crush his baby sister. Instead, he brushed her off with, “I’ll think about it.”
~
Leah sat silently, eating occasional bites of the watered-down stew. Her mind was too busy to join the conversation volleying back and forth between Miriam and Ol’ Mose.
Now what? This had been her one real plan. Even though she’d thought to find a job in Butte City in case the marriage with Abel Bryant didn’t work out, deep down she’d really thought it would work. God had clearly opened the doors for her to come here. Why would He bring her to this obvious dead end?
She cautiously glanced at the older brother while the others were enamored with one of Ol’ Mose’s stories. Did he remember her, too? His face hadn’t shown any recognition, just shock, partially concealed by the thick brown curls covering the lower half. What did he look like under that thick beard? Was he handsome as his strong cheekbones suggested? The thought took her by surprise, but she told herself Abel would likely have looked the same. She was just wondering what might have been. Still, that kind of thinking would get her nowhere, at this point.
Leah dipped her spoon into the bowl again and pulled out a chunk of meat. The soup was definitely not the best she’d eaten, but better than nothing. It wasn’t even as good as Mose’s campfire cooking, which had been surprisingly flavorful considering the limited supplies he us
ed. She lifted the spoon to her mouth.
Uggh. This bit of meat was the toughest bite yet. Leah forced her mind back to what she should do next. She had no choice at this point but to continue on to Butte. Maybe there would be work for her there, or maybe she would head back to Helena or Fort Benton. Ol’ Mose had mentioned staying the night in the Bryant’s barn, since it was still a few hours to Butte. Maybe they wouldn’t mind if she stayed out there, as well. Or maybe it was possible they might have an extra room with a real bed? It was too much to hope.
Leah glanced at Miriam, her green eyes glowing as she hung on the old trapper’s every word. Leah felt a tug in her chest. Even though she really didn’t know her, she would miss this young woman.
After dinner, Leah helped Miriam wipe out the dishes, a task she’d done for Ol’ Mose while they were on the trail. She took the opportunity to pose the question she’d been contemplating.
“Miriam, I think Ol’ Mose said he usually stays the night in your barn when he comes through here?” She stopped for a response.
“Yep, we try every time to put him up in the house in one of the extra beds, but he won’t hear of it. Says he can’t sleep on a soft mattress.”
Leah loved the way Miriam’s eyes sparkled when she talked. She seemed to have a zest for life. Unlike her stoic, silent brother.
“Would it be all right if I sleep in the barn, too? I’ll be leaving with him in the morning, of course.”
Leah watched Miriam for a response. The girl’s eyes flared and she rose to her full height, which was still a half-head shorter than Leah.
“Absolutely not.” Miriam dropped the tin dish and rag on the counter, and placed a fist on each hip.
“First of all, you will not sleep in the barn. You’ll sleep in our spare bedroom like any other guest. And second, there’s no way I’m letting you leave after just one night. I haven’t had a woman’s company in years, and I plan to keep you as long as possible.” Her shoulders sagged a bit, and her smile returned. “You need to stay a few days, at least, until we figure things out. You came here at Abel’s request, and he’d turn over in his grave if he knew we threw ya out.”
Leah couldn’t help but love the little fiery magpie in front of her. She reached for Miriam’s nearest hand and gave it a squeeze. “You’re a kind soul, Miriam Bryant. Thank you.”
Chapter Ten
A distant clatter pulled Leah from the comfortable dream that clutched her. She sat up, trying to place her surroundings. The room was small and the cotton sheets were worn soft, cozier than the silk bed clothes she was accustomed to.
At last it came to her. Montana Territory. The Bryant Ranch. She sank back with a groan. She had finally made it—and there was nothing here for her after all. She needed to move on with Ol’ Mose today.
Leah threw back the covers and rolled over to place her feet on the cool floor. The small movement caused her muscles to scream so much she had to bite her lower lip to keep from crying out. Before leaving Richmond, she’d never known she could hurt like this. And just from riding in a wagon…it was amazing.
Through sheer determination, she forced her muscles to go through the process of dressing in her navy suit again and pinning up her honey-colored tresses. It would be so wonderful to have a hot bath and fresh clothes, but that was not to be if she was to leave with Ol’ Mose right after breakfast. All her other clothes were still packed in trunks, tied down in the freight wagon.
He was usually ready to pull out of the campsite by the time the sun crested the tops of the trees. Leah could already see the sun shining through the pale blue curtains over the window, so Mose was surely chomping at the bit. Probably just waiting to eat breakfast with Miriam and Mr. Bryant.
She checked her reflection one more time in the small oval mirror over the washbasin, then picked up her hat and pulled open the door.
In the cabin’s main room, Miriam greeted her with a smile as she scraped white goo out of a frying pan. The kitchen held a medley of smells, but not anything Leah expected. No crackle of bacon or spicy aroma of cinnamon toast. Instead, it smelled of charcoal and grease and…maybe bread.
“G’mornin’.” Miriam looked as fresh as a flower this morning. Her cream-colored hair was platted in a long braid and wrapped in a knot on the back of her head. Today, she wore a faded blue dress, but her apron was clean and white, if a bit frayed. Her green eyes shone, even in the dimness of the cabin.
“Good morning,” Leah murmured as she moved toward the kitchen. “I’m sorry I wasn’t up to help you get started on breakfast. Is there something I can do now?” She looked around for an extra apron.
“Not a thing.” Miriam wiped the goo from the frying pan into a tin jar. “I left you a plate of food and a mug on the table. The coffee on the stove is still hot.”
Leah’s mind jumped to alert. “You mean breakfast is over? Why didn’t you wake me? Is Ol’ Mose ready to go? I need to help him load up.”
Before her flurry of questions was half finished, Leah had pinned her hat in place and moved toward the door. Ol’ Mose would be itching to leave if he had finished eating.
“Leah, wait!”
Leah ignored the call as she hurried out the door and across the yard to the barn.
“Leah!”
She jerked open the big barn door, and stopped for a moment in the shadowy building to get her bearings. A row of stalls stretched down the right side, and a wagon stood in front of hay piled on the left—an empty wagon. No sign of Ol’ Mose’s freighter or the two tired mules.
Leah spun around to face a breathless Miriam. “Where is Ol’ Mose? Has he taken the wagon with your brother somewhere?”
Miriam shook her head, panting from her wild dash to catch Leah. “That’s… what I was… trying to tell you.” She swallowed, her labored breathing slowing a little. “Ol’ Mose left for Butte City this morning. Said he’d give us a chance to sort things out, and he’ll stop on his way back through to check on you.”
“Nooo…” Leah slumped against the side of the barn, thoroughly frustrated with the way things were going. He was supposed to take her with him. She needed to get to Butte and find work there.
Miriam tentatively stepped toward Leah, placing her hand on Leah’s arm. “We can’t just let you show up and leave again so soon, Leah. It wouldn’t be right. We want you to stay on for a few days, at least, until we figure out what to do next.”
Still slumped against the barn, Leah raised her head and saw the earnest expression in the girl’s eyes, knowing desperation probably showed in her own. “But you and Mr. Bryant don’t owe me anything. You didn’t ask me here, and it’s obvious your brother doesn’t want me to stay. I need to make my own way, and the best place to start, at this point, is in Butte.”
A mischievous look came over Miriam’s face. “If I could have asked you here, I woulda. I’ve wanted a friend for so long now, you’re like a gift from God, Leah Townsend.”
Leah’s desperation softened a bit at that. “My trunks?”
“They’re in the cabin.”
Finally, Leah let out a sigh. She supposed another day or two wouldn’t matter too much. Pushing away from the barn, she wrapped a hand through the crook of Miriam’s arm. “All right then, I’ll stay until Ol’ Mose comes back through. But then you needn’t worry about me any more after that.”
“Oh, I’m so glad.” Miriam rested a hand over Leah’s, and the two women continued that way back to the house.
~
Leah couldn’t believe how quickly the morning flew. As much as her body craved a warm bath and relaxation, she needed to earn her keep and not be a burden. So, she swept out the cabin while Miriam kneaded the bread dough for dinner. As they worked, the younger woman quizzed Leah about her trip on the steam boat. Then Miriam showed her how to clean out the barn and restock the hay and water in the stalls.
“We don’t keep most of the animals in the barn at night during the summer months. Just Bethany, the milk cow, and Gideon’s riding horse. T
he rest of ‘em run with the cattle, except the wagon team that stays in the corrals. We try not to feed hay any more than we have to. It’s awful hard work to cut and store it.” Miriam rolled her eyes to emphasize that last point.
Leah brushed hay from her gown. Her whole body ached, but she dared to ask, “So what do we do next?”
Miriam linked arms with Leah and led her out of the barn. “Now we go check the garden to see if my tomato plants are surviving. I just moved them to the ground last week so I want to make sure they took root. And while we walk, you can tell me all about where you grew up. I think you said it was Virginia?”
“Yes, in Richmond.”
Miriam’s eyes twinkled with a faraway, dreamy look. “Is Richmond a big city? Like New York and Chicago? With balls and parties every week?”
Leah’s lips curved a little. “Yes, I suppose Richmond is a big city, but not as big as New York. And yes, we had balls and parties—more often than I liked.”
Miriam’s eyes grew wide. “Did you wear those big hooped skirts and have servants to help you dress?”
“Well, I did wear hoops when they were the fashion. Now most of the skirts are slender through the sides but gather over big bustles in the back.”
Leah stopped speaking when they reached a large garden plot with little green plants in long neat rows. Miriam scanned the entire section, then made her way to some leafy green shoots about ten inches tall.
“And did you have servants to help you dress?”
Thinking about the simple life the Bryant’s lived, Leah reluctantly nodded, hoping Miriam wouldn’t press for more info.
“And did you have servants to cook and clean for you? And drive your carriage? Did you have a carriage?”
Leah suddenly saw how excessive and unnecessary that lifestyle had been. Had they really needed fifteen servants to keep house for herself and her father? But, it would have been unseemly for the Townsends to keep anything less.
Mountain Dreams Series: Books 1 - 3: Mountain Dreams Box Set 1 Page 7