by DeWanna Pace
She’d thought she’d have two months before she would be faced with proving herself to Biven.
But now she knew the real challenge would be proving to herself she could do this.
Chapter Eight
When they came to a halt outside the livery, Gage noticed the Trumbo brothers had already begun the repair. Burnt wood had been stripped from inside and now lay in a stack near the door, which was propped open by a wagon wheel. Fresh planks leaned against the livery, ready for use. The sound of hammering echoed in rhythm as the three men worked in unison.
Though he hadn’t expected them to start until tomorrow, Gage appreciated that they’d chosen not to put it off. He was glad he’d told Willow about his arrangements with the Trumbos. Otherwise, Willow might have taken up the chore herself. He admired her for wanting to set things right, but from what he’d seen so far, she needed a little more experience between wanting and getting done.
Several horses tied to the hitching rail near the trough danced sideways each time the hammers struck. Chickens squawked on a number of makeshift perches around the livery yard, and from the sound of neighs, the blacksmith or carpenters had tied off other horses around back. The building had been emptied of livestock.
“Maybe you ought to go about your other plans until the men finish,” Gage suggested. “Then you can come back here and take care of whatever you had in mind for Bear.”
He wanted to clear his own saddle first and offer her a hand down, but he had to make sure Willow could dismount as well as she’d taken to the saddle. If she met with trouble out on the range, she would need to be good at both mounting and dismounting.
“I’m doing this first,” she said, ignoring his advice. “I can carry boards or give the horses a good brushing while they’re out here. That’ll keep them calm until the hammering stops.”
Gage offered Thaddeus a hand, then dismounted while Ollie nearly flew out of the saddle and ran inside.
“What about those two? They could get in the way—” he nodded toward the boy chasing his sister “—or maybe hurt.”
“They know horses better than I do, according to my sisters.” Willow shook her head, setting her curls afire with light. “They’ll be a big help.”
He peered harder, wondering what the color of such curls would look like at dawn when the light took on its morning glory and his eyes had rested for the night. He could see so much better then.
Gage shook off his thoughts and reminded himself that there was no point in wasting time on such wondering. Appreciating the color of a woman’s hair was a skill he was losing with no way to get it back. Capturing Stanton Hodge gave him no time to chase matters that would be of little consequence to his future.
All of a sudden, the hammering halted. Gage listened as each man took time and boomed a greeting to the children.
“Hey, what happened to that frilly, flouncy thing you was wearin’ this mornin’, little britches?”
“Skinned out of it soon as I could, Uncle Mad,” Ollie answered.
Though he hadn’t been around all that many children in his years on the trail, there was something Gage liked about Ollie. He couldn’t remember a time, other than today, when he’d seen the little tomboy in anything but her overalls. Ollie Trumbo was a piece of work and didn’t let anybody’s opinion stop her from being her own person. If her aunt stuck around High Plains awhile, Willow would learn a thing or two about confidence from the little girl.
“Snow let you come into town already?” asked one of the other uncles.
“I figured we wouldn’t get to see you two till Daisy came home,” the slightly younger third uncle piped in.
“Aunt Willow brung us. She didn’t know no better,” Thaddeus informed them with a sudden squeal. “Oww! Don’t kick me.”
Images of the feisty brother and sister scuffling urged Gage to finish tying off the reins to secure his horse.
“Better get in there,” Willow insisted, forgetting to hitch her horse to the rail. Rushing to lift a plank, she managed to slant it sideways in order to carry the wood more easily.
In trying to keep its weight balanced, she didn’t judge the distance between her and Gage and almost slammed the length of it into his stomach. He jumped backward just enough to dodge the edge of the board.
She turned and flashed him a quirk of an eyebrow. “You coming?”
“Right behind you,” he answered, leaving out the fact that she’d nearly gutted him. Instead, he took her horse’s reins and tied them off, then grabbed a plank, making sure he gave Willow plenty of room to carry hers.
Once inside, he waited until she set the wood down, then did the same with his.
The tallest of the brothers now had Ollie straddled across his right shoulder and the battling children separated. “Glad you could get to town, Willow. Soon as we’re done here, I’ll buy you and these two kicking mules some ice cream. We’re just about finished anyway.”
Gage watched as each Trumbo held out a powerful hand and offered her a shake. To his surprise, she firmly shook each instead of curtsying. She seemed to know the brothers well. Obviously old friends from the past.
“It’s wonderful to see you, Maddox. You, too, Grissom. Jonas. I was so busy this morning at the wedding I didn’t get to visit with any of you much.” Willow smiled. “Mr. Newcomb here told me about the arrangements he made with you. I really appreciate you getting to it so fast. Where’s Bear?”
“Inside with his wife. We told him we didn’t need any help. Almost done. Probably won’t even have to use those boards you carried in.”
Gage noticed the expression that rippled across her face and wondered if it was disappointment in not being needed. When it came to helping, being kind enough to make the offer was what really mattered. Sometimes people didn’t want help. But Willow apparently hadn’t learned how to take things in stride.
“We came to take the buggy back home for Daisy, but I have other things I’d like to do before we go.” She pulled out a list of names from her skirt pocket. “I hope to pay a call on these women.”
Six-foot-five Maddox looked down his broken-in-several-places nose at the list and laughed. “You still like to rattle bones, don’t you, gal? I remember at Oktoberfest when you tangled knees and noggins with Mary Lou Lassiter trying to fish that juicy orange out of the dunking tank. You couldn’t have been more than six or seven, barely able to lean over the tank of apples, much less see where the orange floated.”
His gray eyes lit with amusement. “And best of all, you’d just lost your two front teeth, remember? Once you grabbed hold of that orange, you clamped your jaw shut like a Florida gator and wouldn’t let go for nobody’s business. Mary Lou fought hard with ya, but you hung on. You still smelled like marmalade when your new teeth grew in.”
The younger Trumbo brothers laughed.
Willow apparently didn’t think the memory was so hilarious. Gage watched her jam the list back into her pocket and her shoulders set ramrod straight. She might be almost red haired, but there was nothing almost about her temper.
“We all tested our wings at that age and skinned a few knees,” Gage defended her, trying to soothe the situation. “Nobody’s perfect.”
Maddox studied him as if he’d just noticed Gage’s presence. “Just warning Willow some of these women ain’t gonna have nothin’ to do with her for a few change of bonnets. She got ’em all fired up when she made ’em miss catching that bachelor snatcher this morning. They’ll stay mad till somebody else sets them to cacklin’.”
“Got any idea where she’ll find the ladies right now?” Gage wanted to make sure she at least got a try at whatever she had in mind.
“Over at the diner.” Maddox wiped the sweat from his brow with an arm that looked as if it had been carved from a band of iron railing. “Last I heard, they’re having a hen party, sharing notes about the strutting roosters at the wedding. Most of us unmarried fellas are steerin’ clear and makin’ ourselves plenty useful elsewhere. If Ollie and Th
ad want ice cream, I’ll pull up my bootstraps and test the rapids if I have to. But you might want to stay clear, Newcomb. I hear tell they think you’re prime pickings.”
Gage knew Maddox was either acting as a big brother to Willow or telling him to stay out of his business where she was concerned. Had there been any courting between the pair in the past? He figured the giant would have been more interested in one of the older sisters. Snow, maybe, since Daisy’s affections belonged to Parker.
Gage had known his fair share of fights. He wouldn’t want to anger Maddox, or any of his brothers, for that matter. They had a reputation for putting men in their places, but so did he. Gage respected men who set their boundaries and tolerated no interference. But he wouldn’t back off from a run-in with them or let any of them shake Willow’s confidence in what she meant to do. If she intended to go to the diner, he’d walk her there himself. Whether Maddox approved or not.
Still, he wouldn’t make himself a target to an eager group of aspiring brides. They were looking out for their futures. Something they thought he could offer.
“You ready to head that way?” Gage lent his arm so that she would link hers with his. “We’ll catch as many of the women as we can now and grab the buggy later.”
“Children, come with me, please. Ice cream sounds nice right about now.” She allowed him to escort her out of the building and across the street.
Several people walking along the sidewalks greeted Gage with smiles or friendly nods of acknowledgment as they passed. He didn’t miss how pride seemed to fill Willow.
Hammering resumed behind them while Ollie and Thaddeus ran past, each racing to reach the destination first.
“Wait!” Willow pointed toward the mercantile. “I need to stop in there before we go to the diner. It won’t take but a minute or two.”
“Aww, do we have to go with ya?” Ollie pleaded. “We can get a seat and already be orderin’ if you’re only gonna be a couple’a minutes.”
Both children started backing toward the diner, looking ready to race there at the first sign of approval from their aunt. They reminded Gage of spring colts ready to gallop across open pasture.
Willow glanced at him as if silently asking whether or not he trusted the pair to do what they said they would. He shrugged.
“Your call,” he said.
“You’re a big help.” She frowned.
“Only about things I know. Kids are not in my range of experience,” he admitted.
“And you think they’re in mine?” Her frown deepened.
“Who knows?” He laughed. “Maybe we’ll both learn something about them while they’re in your care.”
He’d agreed to teach her skills, not spend his time making sure two adventuresome eight-year-olds kept their promises.
“Okay,” she finally relented, “but go nowhere else. Don’t order my ice cream, please. I like mine really cold.”
The children raced away.
Gage had seen fear shadow anger too often in his lifetime of chasing outlaws. Willow was nervous about something, wanting to pick a fight, and it didn’t concern letting the children have their way. What was scaring her?
“You want to go with them?” she asked quickly as if her breath kept pace with the children’s footsteps. “I won’t be but a minute.”
Her hand slipped into her pocket and patted around as if she was trying to locate something in its depth. Had she stored her money there? She’d worn no reticule around her wrist as most women did when they came to town to visit businesses and possibly make purchases. Maybe she was just being careful. Whatever her reason for suggesting he leave, Gage wondered if he needed to tread with a little caution here. After all, he still had no clue if she was as innocent as she seemed or had some connection to the horse thief. The likelihood was getting slimmer if his suspicion about Shepard Hutton proved justified.
“I think we ought to give those two time to prove they can be trusted. I’ve got something I want to take care of real quick while you’re in the mercantile, but I’ll be right back. You’ll need some help getting the buggy ready before you head home.”
Relief washed across her face as she moved up the steps and disappeared into the general store, her hand now clutching what Gage thought might be an envelope.
The image of the blue-and-gray mail sack Junior Pickens kept near the mail slots at the end of his counter came to mind as Gage wondered if she had written a return letter to whoever had sent her the one she’d received yesterday.
If so, what was all the mystery? Why wouldn’t she want him to know she was mailing a reply? Was that why she was so nervous? Fearful? Wanting him out of the way? Afraid he’d see the letter and whom it was intended for?
The mailbag would eventually end up with Bear. He could let the blacksmith in on the fact that he worked for the Corps of Rangers and had to have a look at that particular letter. Gage just wanted to make sure it wasn’t addressed to Hodge.
But it felt wrong invading her privacy, and his personal code of honor wouldn’t let him follow that particular trail no matter what.
Gage let her go about her business and decided he could take the time to check out the Twisted Spur. Maybe Stanton Hodge would be among the influx of visitors in the saloon. Nothing better than a fresh horde of hefty pockets in town to lure a thief out into a crowd.
He hoped Hodge was among the high rollers. If so, he might be able to put his doubt about Willow to rest. Maybe he could finally accept that she was exactly what she appeared—a poor soul who didn’t sit any saddle well and needed to learn how.
That would make him and her alike in ways. Losing things each meant to hold on to. Willow, her self-respect. He, his sight. They both, it seemed, had to learn to look at life in a new way now to find some measure of happiness to keep them going.
* * *
“That one right there, sir. You see it?” Willow pointed to a stack of white lace handkerchiefs separated by thin paper to keep them clean. She had caught a glimpse of a tiny bouquet of bluebonnets embroidered in one corner of a hankie and hoped there would be several like it—at least one to give each lady concerned.
The choice was the perfect gift to make amends with—delicate, bridal looking and with a hint of flowers. “Exactly how many do you have just like it? I need eight.”
The merchant counted and told her. “One more than you want, miss. It’d be a shame to leave just this one.”
He was a good salesman, she’d give him that. He left no possible sale undone. Willow admired the lovely lace and decided to purchase the last one for Daisy. She’d been too focused on escaping Atlanta to think of buying her sister a wedding present. Too bad there were not two extra. She would have offered Snow one, as well.
But then, Snow would probably have considered it some kind of peace offering and that would have taken the pleasure out of giving it.
Lifting the list of ladies’ names from her pocket, Willow handed it to the merchant. “You’re sure they’ll get these tomorrow or the next day?”
The thin man bobbed his head as he pointed to the angled mail slots at the end of his business counter. “I’ll wrap them up and put them in the mail before I close up tonight. Most of the ladies check their slots once or twice a week. Those that don’t, Bear Funderburg takes their mail out to their ranches. He’ll see they get delivered.”
“And my letter? When will it go out? When’s the next stage?” Her attention swept to the mailbag, which looked much like the one that had ridden with her across country. Would the blacksmith have to sort the bag of letters before hers went on its proper way?
Every step of the process seemed a delay in getting it to Atlanta in time.
“If you’d have brought it to me an hour ago, it could have gone out on the stage with the honeymooners.” The merchant’s face broadened with a toothsome smile. “Probably didn’t think to hand it to your sister, didja?”
“Her mind was busy elsewhere, as you can imagine. I didn’t have the heart to bother h
er with it,” Willow said, hoping to make light of her comment. Handing Daisy the letter would only have stirred her sister’s curiosity and made her wonder why she hadn’t taken up Gage’s offer last night to return a reply for her. She would eventually tell Daisy and Snow about what had happened in Atlanta, but hopefully, it would all be resolved before the newlyweds returned.
She wanted it to become just something they all laughed about someday, not another failure to define her.
A scuffle of boots coming up the steps to the mercantile made Willow swing around to find Gage’s tall form entering the general store. He’d finished quicker than she had. Hastily, she completed her business with Junior Pickens, snatching the list from his hand. “Remember that I said no one is to know those are from me. I appreciate you keeping my confidence and I’m sure we’ll do more business together if you do.” She kept her tone low. “Understood?”
Her eyes slanted in Gage’s direction. “No one.”
“I look forward to doing more business with you, miss.” The merchant handed her the extra hankie. “Would you like to have this wrapped, as well—?”
“That’s unnecessary,” she interrupted, taking Daisy’s hankie and stuffing it and the list inside her pocket. She acknowledged Gage’s presence in the store a little louder. “I’ll spend more time here another day. My friend and I here—” she swung around and motioned to Gage “—have two precocious little children waiting on us over at the diner.”
“Your sister’s?” asked Junior Pickens. “Ollie and Thaddeus?”
“One and the same.” Gage stopped a breath away from the back of Willow’s neck. “Actually, that would be two and the same.” He laughed. “Never had much of a handle on arithmetic. I like words better.”
“You left those kids in the diner on their own?” Junior’s eyes widened so fast it looked as if somebody had poked him in the back.
“What’s wrong with that?” Willow’s head angled toward the direction of the restaurant, then back at the merchant.
Junior studied her. “Nothing. You just might want to make a quick stop over at the bank and set yourself up an account, Miss McMurtry. No telling what those two have ordered. They can outeat an army of starving ants in an empty picnic basket. Better take a bucketful of money with you if you want to leave that fine establishment with your good name and purse intact.”