“I need to hire the wagon.” Jeremiah took off his hat and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. Maybe the darkness in here would cool his head some. “I need to go to Los Cerrillos to pick up some building supplies I ordered.”
The livery owner headed toward another stall. “Then you’ll need to keep it most of the day, for sure. Drivin’ a wagon that far will take some time. Do you want to leave Lightning here? I could cool him down and feed and water him for you.”
“That would be great. The southbound train comes by around two o’clock. I need to be on my way.” He slapped his hat back on his head.
The two men worked together hitching two fresh horses to the wagon. Swede went over to his tack room. “I’ve got a jug of water you can take with you. It could turn into a real scorcher before you get back.”
“Thanks.” Jeremiah headed northeast out of town, thinking about all the changes he wanted done to the ranch house.
He had plenty of time to think about it. At least his planning would take away from the boredom of the long drive. By the time he could no longer hear the thump, thump of the stamping machines, his headache had cleared up, and he could finally admire the scenery. Areas of white or yellow flowers were decorated with occasional clumps of color—red, blue, purple. He knew the names of some of the flowers and cacti, but not all of them.
Lupins reminded him of his mother’s eyes. That’s about all he could remember about her. The distinct color that sometimes looked blue, sometimes purple. He knew Indian paintbrush by its flaming red blossoms on the green plant with thin leaves. His mother would have loved them. She always liked bright things.
Why am I thinking about my mother? Doing that only made him realize all he’d missed in life. A wife and a family.
The thoughts he’d been keeping at bay finally slipped in. What could he do about Philip and that Mercer woman? Just why would an educated woman who could afford really nice stationery want to come from a metropolitan area like Boston to a small desert town like Golden? It didn’t make a lick of sense. Something was wrong with the whole picture. But he didn’t know exactly what it was. Knowing how long it took for her letter to get here after they mailed the ad, he should have plenty of time to figure it out before they heard back from her again. Maybe she’d change her mind before the letter even reached Boston.
In the near distance, he could hear the train’s whistle. Since Los Cerrillos was a watering stop for the train and a meal stop for the passengers, he should be there only a few minutes after the train arrived. And it wouldn’t leave before he got there. He’d have plenty of time to load his wagon, refill the water jug, and maybe even stop for a visit at the café. Get a piece of pie. Something to fortify him for his trip home.
Los Cerrillos, New Mexico
At the knock on their private compartment in the Pullman car, Maddy watched Frank open the door.
The conductor stood outside. “We’re approaching Los Cerrillos, the train stop closest to Golden. Will someone be meeting you there?”
“I don’t think so.” Frank glanced back at the women before continuing. “Won’t we be able to hire a carriage to take us to Golden?”
“Things out here are different from back East. The southbound stagecoach goes through there once a week, and yesterday was the day.” The man shook his head. “I’m not sure who you’ll find to take you. It’s still quite a ways off.”
That didn’t sound good. Maddy swallowed a gasp and tried to compose herself. This trip had been hard enough already. Maybe they shouldn’t have been so hasty to choose Golden, since they really knew little about the town. Pearl slept on her shoulder, and she pulled the baby even closer to her heart. The memory of what probably would have happened to her daughter at the hands of Horace Johnstone helped stiffen her spine. They could face anything they had to as long as they were together.
“Don’t worry, Frank. We’ll find a way after we get there.” Her words held more assurance than she felt.
The conductor moved on down the car as the now-familiar train whistle split the air, awakening Pearl. Maddy patted her back to calm her. “We need to change her again before we alight from the train.”
She changed the diaper while Sarah worked on the infant food. By the time the train slowed for the station, the baby was content taking her bottle, her blue eyes fixed all the while on Maddy’s face. She could sense the love coming from the babe. Pearl felt the connection between them just as strongly as Maddy did.
When the train finally came to a full stop, Frank stepped down from the car and reached back to help Maddy. After she stood on the platform, Frank went up to get Pearl so Sarah could also climb down the steps.
Holding her daughter in her arms, Maddy glanced around at the town with the Spanish name. Wondering what it meant, she looked beyond the station platform to the buildings so different from what she was used to in Boston. Built of adobe or earthen bricks, each sported a sign proclaiming more than one newspaper, a couple of hotels, and farther down a rowdier bunch of people milled around a group of saloons. Glancing at side streets, she caught a glimpse of homes and other businesses. Los Cerrillos seemed to be a thriving town, bustling with activity. Surely they would be able to hire someone to take them to Golden. If not, she wasn’t sure what they would do.
Chapter Ten
The wagon joggled across the rise of one of the hills that gave Los Cerrillos its name, and Jeremiah had a clear view of the train that had recently pulled into the station. A man in a loose-hanging suit stepped down from one of the Pullman cars, then turned back, offering his hand to someone inside.
Close to the station now, Jeremiah stared at the vision that descended the last step to the platform, revealing a tiny bit of ankle above her dainty slippers. She looked like the china doll that had sat in the glass counter at the mercantile a long time. Fine features, creamy skin, a little bit of a thing, but he could tell she was a woman, not a girl. Her rich brown hair was pulled up away from her neck, and a hat perched on the pile of curls. She had to be from back East. No women he knew in Golden took the time to style hair so elaborately.
For a moment, he felt as if a whole herd of cattle stampeded through his stomach. If he hadn’t been thinking so much about Philip’s mailorder bride, he probably wouldn’t have even noticed this woman. Tell yourself that if you want to. But he knew it wasn’t true. This woman looked like the one in his dreams—a wife to be proud of. A mother for his yet-to-be-born children.
When the man let go of her hand, he climbed back into the car and reemerged with a baby in his arms. He handed the infant to the woman. She pulled it close and kissed the child on the head. Well, she’s someone’s wife. Surely not the man who helped her from the train. He was old enough to be her father or even her grandfather.
When the man went back to the train, Jeremiah kept studying the woman. Looking at another man’s wife like that was wrong, but for a little while, he enjoyed her beauty, every graceful movement.
Shaking his head, he stopped the wagon beside the train platform and tied the reins to the hitching rail before heading into the station. Now the pretty woman was already inside along with the older man and an older woman. So where was her husband? Didn’t matter. She wasn’t his concern. He leaned against the wall and rested one booted foot against it. Jeremiah watched them from under the brim of his Stetson while they talked to the station master.
“We’re going to the closest hotel to get something to eat.” The woman holding the baby was the one who spoke to Charlie, instead of the man traveling with her.
Odd. Where was the man who should be protecting her? She’d need a lot of that in this rough town. Sure, some families lived here, but all the decent women were attached. Miners were always on the prowl for something besides the fare at the saloons.
“After that”—her voice, so like a song bird, drew his attention back to her—“we’ll want to hire a carriage to take us to Golden. Can you tell us where to find the livery stable?”
The statio
n master stared at her before answering. “A carriage? Don’t think there’s a single one in all of Los Cerillos.”
The frown that puckered her brows didn’t diminish her beauty in the least. “Then how are we going to get there?”
Charlie glanced toward Jeremiah.
Oh, no. He wasn’t about to get roped into this mess. These people should’ve made arrangements before they got to Los Cerrillos.
“Jeremiah, you here with a wagon?”
The old coot knew he was coming for supplies. Why was the man pushing him into a corner about this? Probably because of how pretty the tiny woman was. She had Charlie eating out of her hand, the one that wasn’t clasped around another man’s child.
“Yeah, I’ve got the wagon.” He pushed away from his resting place. “Why?”
He knew what Charlie wanted, but he wasn’t going to make it any easier for the old man. He couldn’t get all his supplies and these people and their luggage into the wagon at the same time.
“These here fine folks need a ride to Golden.” He’d never seen Charlie smile so wide.
Three pairs of eyes turned toward him. The man sized him up. The older woman had a look of interest, and the young mother all but begged him with her gaze.
“I can pay you for your trouble.”
Her soft words caressed his ears. Heated them up. They had to be burning red.
He was a goner. “Keep your money.” He glanced toward the station master. “I’ll come back tomorrow for the supplies. You can store them for me, can’t you?” He hardened his expression, daring Charlie to disagree.
The older man stepped forward, thrusting his hand toward Jeremiah. “The name’s Frank Sneed, and this is my wife, Sarah. We’re traveling with Miss Madeline. I’ll help you put our luggage in your wagon.”
You bet you will. Jeremiah gave his hand a quick, hard shake. He didn’t plan on doing all the work by himself. He followed Sneed out onto the platform.
“We don’t have a lot of time to be lollygagging before we leave. It’s quite a ways to Golden.” He stared at the luggage piled together and gave one longing glance toward his supplies before grabbing two of the canvas bags and heading toward the wagon.
Only then did the name register. Miss Madeline? So there wasn’t a husband. Interesting. And very dangerous for her, the town of Golden—and for me.
Maddy was sure that Jeremiah What’s-His-Name didn’t want to help them. His tangible disdain tainted the air in the station, and she didn’t like it one bit. No one had ever treated her with such a lack of respect. She had heard about a Code of the West. People helped each other, especially a damsel in distress. And she was a damsel in distress if there ever was one. A seemingly endless train ride had worn her down, and this man’s lack of kindness grated on her nerves. She really wanted to give him a piece of her mind. Uncomfortable at where her thoughts were leading her, she didn’t like feeling this way. She’d never met a more exasperating man—except Horace John-stone. A shudder accompanied that thought.
Reality settled over her. She needed to treat this Jeremiah person kindly because she must get as far away from Mr. Johnstone as possible. She hoped no one had discovered they had left Boston, but her insides quaked when she thought of all the things that could have gone wrong. At least when they arrived in Golden, she could ask Mr. Smith for his protection, even if they didn’t marry. Hopefully he was a strong man who could give them a refuge from danger.
For some strange reason, the thought brought that Jeremiah man to mind. No one would argue that he wasn’t strong. And he could keep them safe. But evidently he didn’t want to.
As if her thoughts called his name out loud, Jeremiah stood in the open doorway of the station, blocking out the sunight. “Follow me.” After the terse order, he disappeared from her sight.
Maddy snapped her gaze to Sarah.
“Let’s go.” With an encouraging smile, Sarah led the way outside.
Their trunks and luggage filled over half the wagon. She stared at the pile, wondering where they would ride.
Frank trotted toward her. “Let me have Pearl. I’ll ride in the back, and I can keep her in the shadows of the baggage or the seat. She might even go to sleep in the wagon.”
He took the baby from her arms and cooed at the infant.
“Miss Madeline.” The words sounded derogatory coming from Jeremiah. “You and Miz Sneed can sit up front with me.”
Maddy stared at the board seat. It didn’t look long enough to hold three people, especially if one was this cowboy. She glanced at Sarah.
“I’ll get our parasols from the luggage, so we can keep the sun off.” Her servant spoke to their reluctant driver. “Just how long will it take to get to Golden?”
“At least three hours, so we better get on the road.” He turned from Sarah toward Maddy and offered his hand. “I’ll help you up.”
How Maddy wished she didn’t need his help, but this skirt would hinder her climbing onto the wagon. She looked for a step or something to put her foot on.
He leaned close to her and whispered, “The step’s by the wagon wheel. The brake is on, so the wagon won’t move.”
She leaned away from him. His proximity made her nervous. She glanced into his eyes, and they held a serious expression. He held out his hand.
After grabbing hold of it, she held her skirt with her other hand and placed her kid slipper on the narrow step. She was sure that anyone coming by could see her unmentionables. Her foot slipped, and she almost fell, but his hand gripped harder. When she tried again and her leather sole slid once more, he released his hold on her. Then the insufferable man grasped her waist with both his hands and hoisted her up. She felt like a sack of flour.
But she felt something else as well. The heat of his hands branded her waist. Warmth spread from them like the spokes of the wheel she’d stood beside, making her uncomfortably hot, even in this dimity dress she’d bought in Santa Fe when they had a longer stop. Most of the clothing she’d brought with her was much too warm for this climate.
“Miss Madeline.”
At the soft words, she glanced down. Sarah held a parasol toward her. Maddy took the lacy confection and unfurled it, positioning it so the sun no longer poured down on her face.
Jeremiah held his hand out for Sarah, and she took it. When she put her more sturdy shoe on the step, it didn’t slip or slide. She quickly used his help to reach the wagon bed, but there wasn’t room for her to pass Maddy and sit beside the driver.
When Sarah stared pointedly at Maddy, she shifted toward the middle. By then Jeremiah’s long strides had brought him to the other side of the wagon. He nimbly leapt up and took his seat. No way the three of them would ride without touching each other. This is going to be a long three hours.
The man quickly had the wagon on its way over one of the hills, driving on a rocky path that didn’t look like a road to her. With each rut the wagon listed from side to side. Maddy felt as if she were on a ship, instead of a wagon driving across a desolate wasteland. At least patches of colorful flowers broke the monotony of the landscape.
“Miss…”
She stared up into his eyes, too dark to really be brown but not quite black. Uncomfortable at his perusal, she lowered her lashes. “Yes?”
“I’m sure these are trusted servants, and they call you Miss Madeline, but I’d like a last name to tag on.” His words were hard like the landscape.
“Mr…?” She cocked her head and gave him a saucy smile. Two could play this game.
“Dennison. Jeremiah Dennison.” He didn’t take his attention from the road, but his lips tipped up slightly at the ends.
She stared straight ahead. “I’m Madeline Mercer—of the Boston Mercers.”
Total silence followed her announcement. She waited for his response. Nothing. She could wait him out. Finally, she glanced up at him.
“What brings you to our fine town, Miss Mercer of the Boston Mercers?” An insincere smile spread across Mr. Dennison’s face, never re
aching his inscrutable dark eyes.
“The good Lord did.” Maddy showed him what a real smile should look like.
His expression turned to a scowl, as if he’d just taken a bite of a sour pickle. “I’m quite sure the ‘good Lord’ had nothing to do with it.”
This chilly response disturbed her. The way he said the words told her he wasn’t one bit familiar with her Lord, and probably didn’t want to be. Maddy knew she couldn’t trust a man who wasn’t a strong man of God.
Idiot! How could he be such an idiot? Jeremiah gulped a deep breath to keep from cursing. This was the woman he and Philip had sent a letter to yesterday. And here she was. On the way to Golden. Right now.
He stared at the faint road ahead. If it hadn’t been for the other people in the wagon, he wouldn’t try to miss the worst of the rocks and ruts. He’d just as soon shake the stiffness right out of Miss Madeline Mercer.
Why hadn’t he pegged her right off? With her rose-scented letter and her fancy clothes, she’d slipped under his defenses. But he had her number now. She had to be a gold digger. Probably living off some other man’s wealth she’d stolen and looking for a way to finance her high standard of living, as evidenced by her clothing and luggage, when that ran out. Well, it wouldn’t be Philip’s gold. He’d see to it.
Talking about God the way Philip did, she had to be a hypocrite. Evidently, this was just her way of playing on emotions to get what she wanted. It wouldn’t take long to have the retired miner eating out of her hand. He had to think of something fast to keep her from meeting him. A single woman with a baby shouted immorality. She was more suited to work in one of the saloons than to marry a decent man.
He’d been so intrigued by her outward appearance that he hadn’t looked deeper. Shame on me. Too late now to put her back on the train and get her out of here. He’d have to think of something else. But what?
Love Finds You in Golden, New Mexico Page 9