Love Finds You in Golden, New Mexico

by Lena Nelson Dooley

  Smashing down the top of the stakes with the hammer felt good, releasing some of his frustration…until he missed. An expletive he’d never before uttered blew between his lips. The hammer slammed into his thumb, forcing it down the side of the wood, picking up splinters along the way. Flinging the hammer as hard as he could was a stupid thing to do. Now he’d have to go hunt for it among the rocks. It was the only hammer he had. He heard the head bounce, then the splintering of wood.

  Hope it’s not beyond repair. More words like the ones he’d already used erupted from his gut, tainting the air around him. At least there wasn’t a lady nearby to hear his outburst.

  Heading to the house, Jeremiah started picking at the splinters with his thumbnail. Fool things kept breaking off. Now he’d have to dig them out or get T-Bone to help him. Naw, do it myself. No need letting someone else know what a mess he’d made of things. And he sure didn’t want anyone to know why. T-Bone would be full of questions.

  Nothing had ever caused Jeremiah to lose control like that. What was he going to do about the Mercer woman? He hoped the sheriff would soon hear back from his friend on the Boston police force. Jeremiah wanted her out of Golden. The sooner, the better. Maybe then he would regain his sanity.

  After trying to dig the splinters out with the tip of the smaller blade on his Barlow knife, Jeremiah finally admitted he needed help. He tucked his hand into his pocket and headed to the cook shack.

  “Hey, Boss. Wondered when you’d come eat.” The short, bow-legged man sat on the bench at one of the tables, nursing a cup of coffee. “The hands’ve all eaten and rode out.”

  “I guess I wasn’t thinking about food.” But just then his stomach growled loudly, betraying him.

  “Maybe you ain’t, but your stomach sure is.” The man belly-laughed as he stood and went into the partitioned-off kitchen area. “Got some beef stew and cornbread. Have it out in a jiffy.”

  Might as well eat first. Jeremiah stepped over the bench and dropped down beside where T-Bone had been sitting. He’d been real lucky to get such a good cook. Kept the hands happy too. When the parson and his wife bought the hotel, they hadn’t needed T-Bone, so Jeremiah hired him. He wasn’t sure which one of them had the best of the bargain. Even though he paid T-Bone a decent wage, Jeremiah suspected he came out ahead.

  After T-Bone set Jeremiah’s food in front of him, he went back to pour a cup of coffee. He thunked the tin cup down on the table and plunked down where he’d been sitting. “What took you so long?”

  “I was working on the books.” He scooped up a big spoonful of the stew and shoved it in his mouth but almost spit it back out. It was so hot, the inside of his mouth felt on fire. Maybe he should let it cool a bit. “Then I went to figure out for sure where I would put the addition to the house.”

  T-Bone stared at him from under beetle brows fringed with unruly white hair. “Seems like a waste to me.” He was honest—and opinionated about everything.

  “I haven’t done anything with the house since I bought the ranch. After fixing up Philip’s house, I decided I didn’t have to live in squalor.” Jeremiah once again tried the stew—this time with better results.

  Jeremiah could put up with T-Bone’s opinions and inquisitive-ness for food that tasted this good. He took a bite of the cornbread with butter melted in.

  They continued jawing while Jeremiah ate. When he finished, he finally approached the subject he dreaded. “I need your help.”

  “Ain’t no carpenter.” Sparks shot from the man’s gaze. “Just leave me in the kitchen.”

  “Isn’t about the house.” Jeremiah carefully pulled his hand from his pocket, being careful not to scrape the damaged area on the denim. The thing throbbed enough already.

  “Wondered why you were eatin’ with one paw shoved into your pocket.” The cook didn’t have to sound so gleeful about it. “Wal, what we got here?”

  “Had a little accident.” Jeremiah turned it over so T-Bone could see all the broken splinters.

  “Looks like someone’s been hackin’ at it.” He cut his eyes up at Jeremiah’s face. “I s’pose you done that.”

  Jeremiah nodded.

  “Boss, you need a good wife to fix ya up.”

  T-Bone didn’t have to rub it in. The cook got up and headed toward the kitchen. When he came back, he had a metal bowl, a bottle of whiskey, and a thin knife. He set the bowl beside where Jeremiah’s hand lay on the table.

  “Hold your hand over this.”

  Jeremiah rolled up his sleeves and obeyed the order. T-Bone uncorked the whiskey and poured a generous amount over Jeremiah’s hand. The stuff burned like the dickens, but he gritted his teeth so he wouldn’t make a sound.

  T-Bone glanced up at him. “Knowed it’d hurt, but I needed to clean it. Gettin’ an infection would hurt worst.”

  Jeremiah nodded. “Do what you need to.”

  He tried to keep his mind off what his cook was doing by looking everywhere else but at the hand. That didn’t keep him from feeling every jab of the knife. He winced, jerking his hand a little.

  “Some of these are buried real deep. Sorry to be hurtin’ you, Boss.”

  “Just get it over with.”

  Quicker than Jeremiah thought possible, considering the number of splinters, T-Bone raised his head. He grabbed the whiskey bottle again and slowly poured it over his hand, making sure it went into every cut. The fire on his hand raged as high as the fire in his gut. Jeremiah didn’t have to wait until he died to experience hell. If there was such a place, he had it right here in his own cook shack.

  “You keep holdin’ this over the bowl.” T-Bone let go of Jeremiah’s wrist. “Be right back with some ointment.”

  He quickly returned with a tin of ointment, some gauze, and adhesive tape. When T-Bone finished bandaging his hand, Jeremiah wondered how in the world he’d be able to use it.

  “Keep this bandage on until tomorrow. I’ll do a new one then.” T-Bone started picking up all the things he’d brought in, taking them back to the kitchen.

  Approaching hoofbeats captured Jeremiah’s attention. He headed toward the door.

  “Come back for dessert. I made that vinegar pie you like so much.”

  When Jeremiah reached the front corner of the house, the sheriff was tying his reins to the hitching post. “Bill, you must have smelled T-Bone’s vinegar pie. You’re just in time to share some with me.”

  Bill rubbed his belly. “Don’t have room for even a crumb. Ate at church.”

  “I suppose they had a real shindig to welcome the newcomers to town.” Jeremiah didn’t even try to hide his disdain from his good friend.

  “They’re why I came out here to talk to you.” The sheriff headed toward him. “But I’d like a cold drink of water while you eat your pie.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  The two men headed toward the cook shack.

  Bill glanced toward Jeremiah’s hand. “What happened to you? You looked all right when you brought Philip to church.”

  “I was.” He gave a wry grin. “Just letting off some steam by working on the house. Missed the top of a stake.” He glanced down at his thumb and noticed that the part peeking out of the bandage had turned an angry shade of purple. “Afraid I let my temper get the best of me.” Jeremiah didn’t mind telling his good friend about what happened. He wouldn’t be gossiping about it. “Threw my hammer out into the rocks and broke the handle. Have to whittle a new one if the head isn’t damaged.”

  Bill’s laughter preceded them into the cook shack.

  “What’s so funny, Sheriff?” T-Bone came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on the large apron that covered most of his body.

  “Jeremiah’s smashed thumb. Never knew him to make a bone-headed mistake like that before.”

  “Not really funny.” T-Bone came to his defense. “I had to work to get all the splinters out and the cuts clean. Don’t want Boss-man to lose his hand.”

  By now Jeremiah’s whole face flamed. His ears even fe
lt hot. “All right, enough about my hand. T-Bone, please get me some pie and coffee, and bring Bill here a glass of cold water.”

  “I’ll go to the spring and get some real fresh.”

  They watched the old man leave before they settled onto opposite benches.

  “So what do you have to tell me about our newcomers?” Jeremiah didn’t see any point in beating around the bush.

  “They were in church.” Bill laid his hat on the bench beside him.

  “I noticed.”

  “That what got you in such a tizzy that you banged your thumb and broke your only hammer?”

  Sometimes good friends could be a real pain.

  “Yeah. That woman’s like a burr under my saddle. Have you found out anything about her?”

  “Not yet. I only sent the telegram yesterday.”

  T-Bone came in with a tin pitcher of water. He poured some in a glass and set it in front of the sheriff. “I’ll get your pie now.” He headed toward the kitchen, carrying the pitcher with him.

  “I’m not really sure your conclusion is right about those people. I watched ’em during the service. They were really worshiping with us. I know.” He held up his hands. “You’re not a believer, but I don’t think they were faking. They’re nice, and I’m sure they’re Christians.”

  Jeremiah scowled at that. “I’ve known people who claimed to be Christians but were really criminals.”

  “I have too, but I usually sense it right away.” Bill took a long swig of the water. “This really hits the spot after the hot ride out here.”

  T-Bone came in with a piece of pie. He set it and a cup of coffee in front of Jeremiah. “Here you go, Boss.”

  “Thanks.” Jeremiah took a bite, savoring the tart, sweet flavors.

  “I’ve changed my mind, T-Bone.” Bill raised his hand. “Please bring me a small piece. I can’t just sit here watching him enjoy it.”

  “Sure thing.” The older man hurried away.

  “Funny thing happened at dinner.” Bill leaned his crossed arms on the table.

  Jeremiah put down the cup of coffee. “What?”

  “I sat at the same table with Miss Mercer and the Sneeds. I didn’t let on that I knew anything about ’em. When I asked if Mr. Mercer was joining them, I thought her eyes would pop out of her head, she opened them so wide.”

  Bill had Jeremiah’s full attention now. “So what did she say?”

  “She looked like she was trying to decide what to say, but then her baby woke up. She started crying, then threw up all over Frank. You should have seen the look on that man’s face. Surprise, but he wasn’t mad. Madeline took the baby, and she threw up again all over her mother’s dress. Needless to say, that was the end of our conversation.”

  Jeremiah would bet his bottom dollar Madeline Mercer welcomed the interruption, even if the baby did make a mess she had to clean up.

  “I’m just saying, I’m going to keep an open mind until we know something for sure about her.” Bill picked up his glass again.

  Jeremiah stuffed another forkful of pie into his mouth. I know something for sure. I can’t get the woman out of my mind. And that’s not a good thing…not good at all.

  Maddy sat rocking Pearl after everyone was all cleaned up. Her daughter didn’t seem to have a fever. She had no idea why Pearl threw up so much. She’d had occasional times when she spit up a little, but not like today.

  She hadn’t figured out what to say to the sheriff, but she’d never dreamed of getting out of it this way. With a chuckle, she looked up at Sarah, who was washing Pearl’s clothing in the washbowl.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Did you see the sheriff’s face when this happened? I was wondering what he thought about everything. It really put a stop to our conversation, and not a minute too soon.” She gazed down at Pearl, who had fallen asleep.

  Maddy got up and laid the baby in the drawer, making sure the pillowcase wouldn’t obstruct her breathing. Because of the afternoon heat, she didn’t cover her daughter.

  “At least you didn’t have to answer him.” Sarah wrung out the tiny gown. “I was wondering what you were going to say.”

  “So was I.” Maddy gathered up her own clothes and piled them in the corner.

  Caroline had said they could do laundry with her tomorrow morning.

  “Where is Frank? I’d like to discuss some things with both of you.”

  “I’ll go get him and bring him in here.” Sarah hurried out the door and soon returned with her husband.

  Frank stood with his back to the door. “What did you want to talk about, Miss Madeline?”

  Maddy sighed. “Frank, I wish I could get you to just call me Madeline as Sarah does now. We don’t need to be so formal out here.”

  “I’ll try to remember, but you’ve been Miss Madeline to me since you were born.” He laughed. “Was that all?”

  “No.” Maddy clasped her hands in her lap. “It isn’t. We’ve been through a lot together, especially the last few weeks. Now our finances are almost depleted. Mr. Smith said he’d marry me with no strings attached, but I’m not sure that’s the best decision at this point. Caroline Oldman offered to let us stay rent free. They’ll give you jobs here at the hotel. She needs help with the cleaning and cooking, and Rev. Oldman might use you, Frank, to work with him and Carlos. He’s kept quite busy. What would you two think of that?”

  Frank and Sarah stared at each other as if reading each other’s thoughts. Then they both smiled.

  He turned back toward Maddy. “That might be the best thing for right now. We could get better acquainted with Mr. Smith and see exactly what he had in mind when he sent the advertisement, but you wouldn’t feel rushed to decide right away. This situation needs a lot of prayer.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Maddy went to hug her old friends.

  “And I’d like to keep busy.” Sarah leaned away from Maddy and gazed into her eyes. “You’ve become such a good mother for Pearl. You don’t need our help as much as you did at first.”

  “Then it’s agreed. We’ll stay here for the time being.” Maddy knew this was the best decision all around.

  And she liked the idea of having more time to seek God. In addition to helping around the hotel, she planned to spend more time with Philip. He had enjoyed having Pearl in his home. Maybe she could divide her time between the hotel and Philip’s house. If she could just figure out when Jeremiah Dennison wouldn’t be there. She didn’t need him working against her in her relationship with Philip.

  Too bad the cowboy was the most handsome man she’d ever met. Just thinking about him made her heart beat faster. But he evidently wasn’t a Christian, and he really didn’t like her being here. Well, that was just too bad. Nothing he could say or do would make her leave Golden.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Three weeks. It didn’t seem possible to Maddy that they’d been in Golden almost a month. The town was a nice place, and the people were friendly. Come to think of it, she hadn’t really missed Boston that much, and she definitely felt safely out of Mr. Johnstone’s clutches.

  Philip hadn’t been what she’d expected, but she liked him—a lot. She’d taken Pearl up to Philip’s house almost every day. Funny how the elderly man and the baby really took to each other.

  While Philip held and played with Pearl, Maddy made sure his house was clean and he had plenty to eat. Just listening to Pearl coo when Philip talked to her made Maddy’s heart soften even more toward the man.

  On Tuesday Philip had asked Frank to go to Skinner’s Mercantile and buy the baby bed the proprietors had recently acquired and had him order another one for the hotel room. After Philip gave Pearl her bottle, Maddy helped him put the baby in the crib in the extra bedroom. Philip told her that room was hers when she wanted to move in, but she wouldn’t give anyone else in town a reason to question her virtue or integrity.

  She enjoyed spending time helping Philip. Maddy knew he would reciprocate if she would just let him. And the time migh
t come when she’d have to accept his help. But not right now. For her and the Sneeds to work and pay their own way gave her a feeling of satisfaction—and she wasn’t beholden to Philip or anyone. Instead of others taking care of her, she contributed to their lives. She’d been able to time her visits with Philip so she wasn’t at his house when Jeremiah Dennison came, so everything was going well for her.

  Maddy stepped onto the boardwalk in front of the hotel. This morning, a breeze blew from the east, and she covered Pearl’s face with a light cotton wrap. She glanced up and down the cobbled street. Although a number of people were out and about, she didn’t see any of the drunks by the saloons, so she felt safe to venture up the street alone. Frank wouldn’t need to accompany her. She lifted her skirt with her free hand to keep from tripping on the hem as she descended the steps.

  The walk to the adobe was easier each time she made the trip. Her legs and back felt stronger from all the exercise. And her breathing was no longer labored when she reached Philip’s house high on the slope. The door stood open as usual, inviting her presence.

  “Philip, we’re here.” She glanced around the homey room to see what she needed to do today.

  The retired miner came from the kitchen. “Glad yer here, Madeline. Lemme sit down, so’s I can hold lil’ Pearl.” He shuffled to his favorite rocking chair.

  She followed him and laid Pearl in his waiting arms before removing the covering from the infant’s face. The baby smiled up at Maddy, then noticed Philip. Both his face and that of her daughter brightened as he leaned close and cooed to her, clicking his tongue and laughing.

  When Maddy started toward the kitchen, Philip and Pearl commenced their nonsensical conversation. Maddy hummed under her breath as she cleaned. She had been working about half an hour when she went out the back door to empty the dishpan.

  The pleasant morning captured her attention as she gazed across the flat desert toward the hazy purple mountains in the distance. The landscape in between had seemed too barren when she first saw it, much like her own life had lacked purpose before God gave her a daughter. But now she enjoyed discovering the hidden beauty of the New Mexico territory.