Cowboy Homecoming

by Louise M. Gouge

  “Nope.”

  “Is there any change—” She didn’t know how to finish the question. Surely if the Colonel had taken a turn for the worse, Micah would’ve said something during the service. After all, the Colonel and Pa had founded this community, so everyone cared about his health.

  She waited for an answer, but none seemed forthcoming. Lord, what can I do to help him? If all else failed, maybe a bit of teasing would cheer him.

  “Since you’ll be eating at the boardinghouse, it’s a good thing I’m cooking an extra-large pot roast.” She injected a bright tone into her words. “And plenty of potatoes and gravy.”

  He gave her a little grin. Though small, it caused her heart to trip. More with sympathy than admiration, of course.

  “Could you check on Mrs. Foster while I put dinner on the table?”

  “Huh?” He blinked, as though lost in thought.

  “Mrs. Foster.” Laurie giggled. “Check on her so I can serve dinner?”

  “Oh. Sure.” His stomach rumbled softly. He shot her an embarrassed glance and laughed. “Yeah, you get dinner on the table. I’ll check on Mrs. Foster.”

  Laurie laughed, too, but sadness lingered for her childhood friend. While their families were always close, they’d also been different. Pa and Colonel Northam were both successful ranchers, but she and her sisters never had to earn Pa’s approval. The Colonel seemed harder to please. Had Tolley’s childhood mischief been an attempt to earn that approval? She’d seen such behavior in some of her students in Denver. While the parents of those children usually ignored their antics, the Colonel had responded by sending Tolley away. Though he’d returned home, the whole family held him at bay. Could she do anything to help him?

  If so, Lord, please show me the way.

  Chapter Six

  Tolley rose early on Monday to take Thor for a workout. He’d missed these daily morning rides and wanted to be sure the stallion didn’t mind being stabled instead of pastured. After their run, Tolley brushed him and fed him oats.

  “I could do that, Mr. Northam.” Adam leaned over the top rail of the stall, worry creasing his forehead. “I take care of the horses boarding here at Mr. Russell’s.”

  “I know. You do it very well.” Tolley gave him an easy smile. “I need to remind Thor who I am. I raised him from birth.”

  “Yessir.” Adam’s face relaxed. “I understand.”

  “Say, if Ben can spare you for an hour, could you come over to Mrs. Foster’s and help me evaluate the floor, as you suggested we do?” Tolley couldn’t wait to get started. “In fact, I’m hoping you can help me install the bathroom. I’ll pay you for all of the time you work for me, of course.”

  Adam perked up. “Yes, sir. I’m almost caught up here, so I’ll be there. I’ve been hoping to get more work. Thanks, Mr. Northam.”

  “Call me Tolley.” He finished grooming Thor and cleaning his saddle. “See you soon, Adam.”

  After breakfast, using a crowbar he found in Mrs. Foster’s barn, Tolley managed to loosen and lift two four-foot floorboards. He considered the three splinters in his fingers both annoying and a sort of badge of honor. In Boston, he’d done some carpentry work to help at Reverend Harris’s Grace Seaman’s Mission. He’d also driven a buggy from time to time. In spite of those activities, his hands had become too soft for his liking over the past two years. Time to start building new calluses.

  By the time he’d removed the boards, Adam arrived to help him assess the strength of the supports below the floor. With him came Mrs. Foster’s pesky cat, which promptly jumped into the hole in the floor. While Adam burst into laughter, Tolley plopped down on the floor and grabbed at the animal. It paid him no mind, instead moving into the musty depths, sniffing the wood and sneezing from the dust. Only its tail remained visible, swishing back and forth like it was hunting mice. Tolley learned his lesson early in life about grabbing a feline’s tail, so he resisted the urge to retrieve this one that way.

  “Come here, you stupid cat!”

  Laurie appeared in the doorway. “What’s going on?”

  “C-cat—” pointing at the hole, Adam could hardly speak for his laughing “—under the floor.”

  Laurie gasped. “Don’t hurt him.”

  Tolley glared at her over his shoulder. “I don’t plan to hurt it, but—” He reached as far as possible into the hole, but the critter seemed determined to avoid his grasp. Instead, it disappeared into the dark.

  “I’ll be right back.” Laurie left the room and soon came back with a three-foot length of white ribbon. “Here, use this.”

  Tolley took it in hand and dangled it in the hole. “Here, kitty, kitty.” He tried to copy the silly, high-pitched tone Laurie used when she called the critter.

  Adam snorted with laughter, and Laurie giggled.

  “You look like you’ve done this before.” Laurie knelt beside him. “If you can get him close, I can grab him.”

  The cat jumped out of the darkness, pounced on the end of the ribbon and dug in its claws. While Tolley dragged it closer, Laurie cupped a hand under its considerable belly and pulled it up.

  “There you are, you silly boy.” She cuddled the cat and caressed its dirty back, sending a flurry of dust into the air. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “You’d better put it outside where it belongs.” Trying to tamp down his irritation, Tolley sat up and brushed dirt from his clothes and hair. “I’m not playing silly games to coax it out every time it jumps in there.”

  “My, my.” Laurie held the cat up with its nose to hers. “He’s such a grouch, isn’t he, Pepper?” She flounced out of the room, cooing to the pest as she went. “Let’s go visit Mrs. Foster.”

  All the while, the cat meowed in varying tones as if it understood her words. Tolley shook his head. “Stupid cat.”

  Adam leaned against the doorjamb, crossed his arms and continued to snicker.

  Tolley glared at him, trying to stay cross but at last surrendering to a few chuckles. “Enough of that. Too bad the little beast couldn’t tell us what those joists look like.” He pointed to the small worktable he’d brought into the room. “Hand me that lantern.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  “None of that ‘boss’ nonsense.” Tolley grinned. For a young man carrying the weight of a family on his shoulders, Adam sure had a good attitude.

  After lighting the lantern and using it to illuminate the sixteen-inch space between the floorboards and the first-story ceiling, they decided the joists were well placed and strong enough to support the porcelain bathtub Garrick had offered. Garrick had also offered the services of his water maintenance man for the fixture installation. With no experience in plumbing except for helping his family dig a well years ago, Tolley had readily accepted. He’d drawn plans for the placement of the fixtures so the man would know where to install the water and vent pipes. Once the pipes were in place, Tolley and Adam would cover the wooden floor with tiles before helping the plumber install the fixtures Garrick had donated.

  For today, however, he must finish setting up his law office. After cleaning up, he bade Mrs. Foster goodbye and went downstairs to let Laurie know not to hold dinner for him. He found her in the kitchen stirring batter in a large tan crockery bowl. The scene and aromas reminded him of Mother mixing up her culinary wonders in the kitchen at home, and a strange feeling tugged at his heart. He dismissed the melancholy and cleared his throat.

  “What’s cooking?” He picked up the egg basket he’d filled earlier to take to Mrs. Winsted. “Smells good.”

  “Why, thank you. It’s a cake for tonight’s supper.” She sent him a sweet smile, which caused her dimple to appear. She’d piled her red hair up into an elegant style, but one curly strand lay against her ivory cheek, giving her a winsome look.

  Now his heart kicked up something fierce. Sh
e sure did look pretty. He really should marry her. The Colonel would approve of the match. Maybe even show some approval for Tolley himself when he recovered. And a wife this pretty would be an asset with the townsfolk. But first things first. He must set up his law office and make himself worthy of taking a bride. In the meantime, he liked sharing responsibilities with Laurie as they took care of Mrs. Foster. The three of them almost made up a family. Almost.

  “I’ll have dinner at Williams’s Café, so don’t hold any for me.”

  “Oh.” She blinked those pretty blue eyes. “All right.” She went back to work.

  “Have a nice day.” Why couldn’t he simply turn around and walk out? But his feet refused to move.

  “Bye.” She sent him another quick smile over her shoulder.

  My, what a fine sight. Tolley swallowed hard. With no little difficulty, he shook off his inconvenient reaction and headed out the door, walking the three blocks toward Mrs. Winsted’s.

  As he turned the corner to head down Main Street, he glanced toward his newly installed shingle from a distance. To his dismay, it hung from one hook, dangling dangerously over the wooden boardwalk where it could fall on anyone passing by, should the wind hit it the wrong way.

  Great. Just great. Instead of impressing the citizens of Esperanza with his professional-appearing sign, he might end up injuring one of them, or worse.

  * * *

  For some reason, disappointment filled Laurie because Tolley wouldn’t be home for dinner. She might as well admit to herself she enjoyed his company. While he could still annoy her, especially when it came to poor sweet little Pepper, his conversation was no longer filled with sarcasm and angry grievances as when he was younger. Instead, he’d begun to compliment every meal she prepared, making sure Mrs. Runyan and Mr. Parsley heard him.

  In spite of his kind words, the other two boarders continued their complaints, hinting she could never match Mrs. Foster’s cooking. So Laurie decided to use tried-and-true recipes from her landlady’s handwritten recipe book. To practice, she fixed a smaller portion of a special chicken recipe for herself and Mrs. Foster.

  “This is delicious, Laurie.” Mrs. Foster used her uninjured left hand to hold her fork. It was an awkward endeavor, but she insisted upon feeding herself. “Who’d ever think to mix cabbage, potatoes, onions and peppers to stewed chicken?”

  “You, that’s who.” Laurie laughed. “It’s your recipe. And I noticed your comment on the recipe page that Mrs. Runyan particularly likes it.” She spoke cheerfully, hoping not to add to Mrs. Foster’s difficulties by mentioning her boarders’ complaints.

  “Ah, yes, now I remember. As for Mrs. Runyan, she’s Irish, you know, and the Irish do love their cabbage.” She chuckled. “If you ever run out of things to talk about at supper, ask her about her girlhood in Ireland.” She dabbed her lips with her napkin and set it on her tray, indicating she’d eaten her fill.

  “I will.” Laurie lifted the tray. “Ring the bell if you need anything.”

  On the way downstairs, she considered Mrs. Foster’s idea. Perhaps this evening, she could direct the conversation to topics they might care about. Anything to keep them from staring back and forth between Laurie and Tolley with those accusing eyes.

  Tolley’s handsome face came to mind, especially his quirky smile and twinkling eyes when he teased her. If she weren’t returning to Denver in the fall, she could permit herself to care for him as more than a friend. But she would return to Denver, where her dreams would be realized. And that was that.

  And yet, as she worked in the garden, dusted and swept the house, taught three piano students and prepared a larger recipe of cabbage chicken, Tolley continued to creep into her thoughts.

  * * *

  After making sure the sign wasn’t damaged and the hooks were securely closed, Tolley felt confident it wouldn’t fall again unless an unusually strong wind blew it down. Once again he’d borrowed Mrs. Winsted’s ladder and tools to complete the task. When he took them back, no customers shopped in the store. Approaching the store owner, Tolley ventured to ask a question nagging him since Saturday.

  “I appreciate your generous help, ma’am.” Tolley offered a grin. “And your friendliness.” He added a chuckle to soften his words as he forced out the hard truth. “Seems like most folks around here can’t forget what a rascal I used to be.”

  Mrs. Winsted stopped folding bolts of material and gave him her full attention. “I can’t answer for anybody else, Tolley, but I believe in giving people second chances.”

  Her steady gaze into his eyes emphasized her words and brought a lump to his throat. His family hadn’t given him a second chance. But her comment answered his unspoken question. She was one of the few who forgave and accepted him.

  “I appreciate it, ma’am.” He turned to leave, but she touched his arm to stop him.

  “We’re all praying for the Colonel. Please tell your mother.”

  So she didn’t know about his banishment from the family. He sure wouldn’t mention it because it would sound like a plea for pity, the last thing he wanted or needed. He’d have to be very careful whom he told about his unwanted estrangement.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He tipped his hat and left the mercantile, then made his way down the street to the newspaper office.

  As he entered, the bell over the door jangled, summoning Fred Brody from the composing room in back. “Tolley Northam! Welcome back to town. Saw you across the sanctuary at church yesterday.” He offered a hearty handshake. “What can I do for you?”

  “Howdy, Fred. I need a small sign to announce my hours over at my law office.” Tolley pulled a folded paper from his suit jacket. “Here’s what I want. Can you print this?”

  Fred studied the page. “Sure thing. Congratulations on your new career, by the way. Would you like to purchase an advertisement for me to print in the Esperanza Journal?”

  “Hadn’t thought about it, but it’s a good idea.”

  They discussed the wording and design of both the advertisement and the sign, and Fred said he’d print the sign by the next day. Tolley paid the required amount and shared another friendly handshake with the newspaperman.

  On the way back to his office, an unwelcome suspicion crept in. Maybe both Mrs. Winsted and Fred Brody were so friendly because they wouldn’t dare snub a Northam. The same family wealth that kept Tolley’s share of the ranch profits in his bank account and cash in his pocket assured that folks in business wouldn’t jeopardize their own profits by turning him away. He wished he didn’t think so little of human nature. At this point, he trusted only Laurie’s friendship, at least when she wasn’t being prickly.

  As he neared his office door, George Eberly approached from the other direction. A nervous impulse seized Tolley. Maybe his return to the Valley’s high altitude had finally caught up with him. He slowly breathed in and out to steady his nerves.

  “Morning, George.” He spoke cheerfully and reached out a hand. The Colonel’s old friend hadn’t exactly ignored him yesterday after church, but he hadn’t bothered to speak, either. His curt nod showed Tolley George’s opinion of him. “How are you?”

  George merely glanced at Tolley’s hand before tilting his head toward the office door. “We need to talk.”

  “Sure thing.” This wasn’t a good beginning to whatever George planned to say.

  As he unlocked the door, an all-too-familiar fear gripped Tolley. Did this man bring news about the Colonel? Once inside, he led the way to the back office, where a new layer of dust covered everything. He grabbed one of the cleaning rags, now dry and stiff, and did his best to wipe off a chair for George.

  “Have a seat.” He waved toward the ladder-back chair across from his own leather one behind the desk. “What can I do for you?” He doubted George needed his legal services.

  George sat and crossed his arms over h
is barrel chest. “I don’t like you living in the same house as my daughter. Why aren’t you staying at Four Stones?”

  Tolley managed to swallow both anger and hurt. “The house is pretty full right now, and—”

  “What’s the matter with the bunkhouse? You’ve spent many a night out there planning mischief with some of the worthless cowboys who were hired for seasonal work.”

  “My family didn’t want me on the ranch.” The words came out before Tolley could stop them, at least carried on a tone of resignation instead of self-pity.

  George’s jaw dropped. He stared at Tolley for several seconds. “I never heard of such a thing. What do you mean they don’t want you?”

  Tolley did his best to lighten his voice as he quickly described his failed homecoming. Before George could respond, he addressed the man’s other concern. “I’d never do anything to harm Laurie’s reputation. We’re very careful about propriety. She and I are doing our best to take care of Mrs. Foster, so you can see the Lord worked it all out.” Despite believing that, he felt uncomfortable mentioning the Lord to bolster his assertion.

  “Huh.” George stared out the window.

  The dirty window, Tolley noticed. He desperately needed to find someone to keep this place clean...and soon.

  “Sir, I’ve made some changes in my life since all that boyhood mischief—”

  “Mischief?” George’s blue eyes blazed. “You call burning down one of my haystacks simple mischief? Almost burning down my barn? Mistreating one of your pa’s best mares? Cheating in the Independence Day horse race? Letting Mrs. Wilson’s chickens out of the pen to get killed by a coyote? Should I stop now, or do you want to be reminded of the rest of your malicious deeds?”

  Tolley swallowed hard. Despite what George thought, he hadn’t meant to start the fire. An Eberly cowhand offered him a freshly rolled cigarette, and when Tolley tried to smoke it, he had a violent coughing spell. He didn’t even remember dropping the burning cigarette onto the hay. All he recalled was the haystack igniting into an inferno and his own desperate attempts to put it out. If the Colonel hadn’t brought several wagonloads of Northam hay to replenish George’s winter supply, Eberly horses and cattle would have gone hungry. As for the horse race, he had no excuse for trying to win at all costs.