by Anna Schmidt
He paused in midstroke and stared at the image he’d created. Something was missing. This was not the face that had set his heart racing. Trey frowned. He was known for his ability to capture the very essence of a person. Family and friends had come alive on paper because of his gift. But this was different—she was different.
Of course, he didn’t know her. Maybe that was the problem. He stood at the edge of the mesa so that he had a better view of the ranch below. She was just walking back to the house. By her gestures, he figured she was saying something to the boy. He continued to watch and saw her glance back, raise her hand to shield her eyes once again as she focused her gaze on him before hurrying into the house with her son.
The last thing he wanted was for her to be afraid of him, to consider him just another cattleman determined to run her off her land. What if, instead of buying her out, he proposed a merger of their properties? Under such an arrangement, they could pool their resources and work together. More to the point, they could set an example for others and perhaps stop this madness that had changed the region from a bucolic, peace-loving community to one where mischief and vandalism had escalated to outright murder and mayhem.
As he packed up his sketchbook, he realized she’d been repairing a chicken coop—but there were no chickens. He wondered why, but then another thought pushed that from his mind. Maybe if he sent Nell Stokes a peace offering—some new residents for that coop—she would understand she had nothing to fear from him.
* * *
The fact that Trey Porterfield had stopped at the top of the mesa and stood there for some time worried Nell. She could feel him watching her as surely as she felt the hot noonday sun beating into her back. She continued working on the coop, banging her thumb twice for her trouble. What could he be planning?
His polite—almost courtly—manners had unnerved her. His half smile and the way he had made sure to keep his distance were not what she might expect from a cowboy. In her experience, such men were more likely to bully and threaten. Their smiles, offered at church or in town, were derisive and mocking. The truth was that she feared Trey Porterfield a good deal more than she did any cowboy she had met, precisely because he was well-spoken and clearly intelligent. In her experience, men like that could be awfully cunning when it came to getting what they wanted.
So the following morning, after a night spent lying awake listening for sounds that would alert her to any danger, she was relieved to see Dr. Addie Porterfield driving a buckboard wagon up the lane. At Nell’s insistence, Spud had ridden to town to get Doc Addie to check in on Lottie.
“I just sent my nephew to get you,” Nell said.
“Saw him on the road. Told him I’d just stop here and make this delivery, then be along directly. I sent him off to let his mother know I was coming.” She hopped down from the buggy and went around to its rear. “Got a present for you.”
Joshua came running at the sound of her voice. “A present?”
“Mind your manners, young man,” Nell said, although she doubted her son could hear her above the squawking of half a dozen hens and the crow of a rooster coming from the back of Addie’s cart. “What on earth?” she asked as Addie wrestled a cage filled with chickens to the ground next to the mostly repaired coop and opened the latch.
“A gift from my brother-in-law,” Addie replied, grinning as hens and the lone rooster shook themselves off and strutted across the yard.
“I don’t…I can’t…”
“Trey said he stopped by yesterday and you were working on the coop, but he didn’t see any sign of chickens, so…” She shrugged and grinned. Then she glanced toward the empty coop and frowned. “What happened to your hens, anyway?”
Before Nell could think what to say, Joshua blurted out the truth. “They got killed one night when my cousin snuck off to town and we was alone here. A bunch of bad cowboys came riding through our land, and you shoulda seen how Ma…”
“That’s enough, Joshua. Dr. Porterfield doesn’t need to concern herself with something that’s over and done with.”
Addie placed her hand on Nell’s forearm. “I’m truly sorry for the troubles you’ve had to endure, Nell. Hopefully now that your brother and…”
“Half brother.” Nell’s correction came automatically. Henry had never truly felt like family even when Nell was growing up. The age difference was certainly a factor, and these days, the way he had reacted to Ernest’s unwanted advances only added to her reluctance to claim him as her kin.
Addie started to say something but then seemed to think better of it as she turned her attention to Joshua. “You’re looking a little flushed, young man. How about we go inside and let me take a listen to that heart of yours?” She wrapped her arm around Joshua’s shoulders as they headed for the house. “There’s a sack of feed in the back there for the chickens,” she called out when they reached the porch.
“There’s coffee on the stove,” Nell replied, giving Addie a wave.
“Was hoping there might be.”
Addie’s voice trailed off as she and Joshua entered the house, but her comment made Nell smile. She always felt so much better whenever Addie came to visit.
As she scattered feed for the new arrivals, Nell realized that smiling was not something that came naturally to her these days. Most of the time, she was so tied up in knots of worry and nerves that it was all she could do to put three words together. But Addie had a way of making things seem like they could work out. Nell stood for a long moment, watching the hens peck at the feed and squawk at each other. They seemed content, and that meant perhaps by morning, she’d have eggs. And that meant she could make something special for Joshua.
She brushed the chaff of the feed from her hands and walked toward the house. Of course she would insist on paying Addie’s brother-in-law. They might be neighbors, but they really didn’t know each other, and besides, there was the matter of the range war. They were on opposite sides of that issue, and she could not afford to be beholden to the man.
When she entered the house, Addie was leaning close to Joshua, her stethoscope pressed to his bony chest. “Deep breath,” she said softly. “And again…”
Nell clenched her hands as her son followed the doctor’s instructions. There was no reason to believe anything had changed. There was no magic potion that Joshua could take. Addie had told her time and rest were the only possible remedies.
“Sounds to me like maybe somebody has been overdoing things a bit,” Addie said as she put away her stethoscope.
“Uncle Henry don’t believe in coddling,” Joshua said, glancing at his mother.
“Well, unless your uncle can show me a medical degree, I think it best he stick to tending sheep and let me do the doctoring.”
“He won’t like that. He says I need regular chores.”
Addie smiled. “Then maybe he can tend the sheep while you care for those hens I brought today.”
“Ma?”
“I think that sounds like a very good compromise.” Nell pulled Joshua’s shirt closed and ruffled his hair. “But for now, I want you to go to your room and write Mr. Porterfield a note of thanks.” She took down a tin can she kept hidden among the crockery on the shelf and opened it. She pulled out a single coin and handed it to him. “And tell him that this is the first payment and you intend to pay for the hens and rooster over time by selling eggs at the market in town if that’s agreeable.”
Joshua stared at the money. Addie took a sip of her coffee.
“Trey sent you a gift, Nell. Don’t insult him by turning it into some kind of business deal.”
“I just want to make sure he knows we appreciate his kindness.”
“Then use some of the eggs you’ll be getting and bake him a cake. You can bring it when you and Joshua come to the church social next Friday.”
Joshua’s eyes went wide with surprise. “We’re going to the so
cial?”
“Yes,” Addie said at the same time that Nell said, “No.”
While she and Calvin had attended church whenever possible along with other sheep ranchers and their families, she had not been back since Calvin’s funeral. Nell sighed. “Joshua, go write that note, then lie down until lunch. We’ll sort this out later.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Addie wandered outside, taking her coffee with her. Nell filled a tin cup and followed her.
“Addie, I appreciate everything you do for Joshua—and for me. Your friendship means more to us than I can say.”
“Here’s the thing, Nell. This business between the cattlemen and you and your kind has got to stop sometime. Either the two sides are going to find some way to work together, or more good people are going to die. On the other hand, if you and some of the other wives come to the social…”
“I haven’t even been back to church since last fall. Seeing me there, everyone will be whispering about Calvin and how he died and—”
“Exactly. The thing that needs to happen here, in my opinion, is to get folks talking instead of shooting.”
“I don’t want pity.”
“Why on earth not? Seeing you there is gonna make people squirm a little, and it’s gonna make them think, and I reckon that’s a big first step toward maybe finding ways to talk this thing out.”
“I just want to be left alone, Addie.”
“No, you want to be left to live in peace. There’s a difference.”
The two of them sipped their coffee in silence. Nell watched the chickens. Addie stared at the horizon. After a moment, she dumped the dregs of her coffee on the ground and handed Nell the cup. “Sorry for pushing you. Joshua needs to take things easy with the hot weather coming on. Keep him inside during the middle of the day, and no heavy lifting or exerting himself at any hour.”
“Is he worse?”
“No. He’s just not better.” She went inside and emerged seconds later with her black leather bag. “I hope to see you both next Friday, but it’s your choice. So if you decide to stay holed up here, I’ll see you the following week. But in the meantime, if there’s any more trouble, just send word.”
Nell followed her friend out to the wagon and watched as Addie settled herself and picked up the reins. “Thank you,” she said.
“We’re friends, Nell. Heaven knows, out here, that’s a blessing. You take care now.” She snapped the reins, and the horse started forward.
“Hey, Addie? About that cake…”
Addie’s laugh was like a burst of welcome rain on a tin roof. “His mama used to make a cake flavored with vanilla and a hint of cinnamon,” she called out as she rode away. “Bring it to the church social Friday.”
Two
The following Friday when Trey came in from the range, Juanita was standing in the kitchen door, hands on her ample hips. “You’re going to be late,” she grumbled after he’d handed his horse off to Eduardo and walked toward her.
“There’s no set time for this thing,” he replied as he bent to kiss her cheek before squeezing past her.
“No, but the cake auction comes early on, and that’s what you promised Addie you’d be there for.” She watched him down a glass of water and then pour himself a refill.
Trey wasn’t much for socializing, especially not since his mother had died and his siblings had gone their separate ways. He’d never really had a serious courtship, and if he had considered marriage at all, it had been something he might do “someday.”
Addie and Jess had tried to match him up with a friend of theirs once. Ginny Matthews was the daughter of the pharmacist in Tucson and worked for the newspaper there. After he’d returned from spending several months in the wild area called Yellowstone in Wyoming, he’d worked with Ginny to illustrate a series of articles she had written for the paper.
Like Addie, she was lively and outspoken, and he could understand why his sister-in-law thought they might make a good match. “Opposites attract,” she liked to say, pointing out the obvious contrast of his quiet, live-and-let-live ways to Ginny’s determination to save the world. And he liked Ginny. She made him laugh, and she made him think, but she didn’t make his heart race, and not once had he thought about what it might be like to kiss her. On the other hand, after that day he’d called on Nell Stokes, he’d repeatedly experienced both feelings—feelings he had rejected as disrespectful of her grief.
He finished the second glass of water. “I’ll go get cleaned up,” he said, knowing Juanita would not allow him to beg off attending. “But save me some supper, ’cause I plan to go bid on Addie’s cake and then come right back here. I left Javier out there mending those cut fences and—”
“Javier can handle the fences. You never take any time for yourself. Why can’t you go and just enjoy the social?” She stroked his cheek. “You might meet someone,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.
Trey grinned. “You and Addie think any single woman in the territory might make a good wife for me.”
“It’s time. A man needs a wife—a partner.” Juanita patted his cheek and relieved him of the water glass. “Go get washed up.”
Sometimes when Juanita—and Addie—got something in mind, it was just easier to go along than it was to try and come up with excuses for refusing.
So he washed up, changed his shirt, decided he didn’t have time to shave, and headed out. He knew that Addie and Juanita wanted the best for him. It was just that what they thought he needed to be happy differed from his plans. Running the ranch was his job. His passion was sketching the land, the animals, and the people he loved. At best, courtship would be a distant third.
When he arrived at the church hall, it was clear his sister-in-law had found some new match for him, given the way she fussed over the fact that he hadn’t shaved.
“You look like a grumpy old bear,” she said, scowling up at him as she touched his whiskered jaw.
“Had some trouble. Somebody cut through the fences in a bunch of places. I had to have the boys—”
“Well, at least you smell nice enough,” she interrupted.
“I’ve gotta get back, so I’m not staying for the supper,” he announced. It was high time Addie saw him as a grown man capable of making his own choices.
She muttered something that sounded like, “Wanna bet?” but he chose to ignore it.
“Now tell me what your cake looks like so I can bid on that and head on home,” he said.
She looked alarmed. “You plan on bidding during the cake auction?”
“It’s for charity, right? I thought that was the point.”
“Right.” Addie drew out the word, and he could practically see her plotting something. “Excuse me a minute. I have to see about…in the kitchen… Be right back,” she said and hurried away.
“Your wife is up to no good,” he told Jess when his brother came to stand next to him.
“She’s trying to find you a wife. Get used to it, or go find your own.” Jess scanned the growing crowd and frowned. “You think there’ll be any trouble today?” He nodded toward a large wagon just arriving, driven by the Galway boys. “Looks like the sheep ranchers’ wives and their young’uns decided to show up.”
Trey followed his brother’s gaze. “Their men have all gone over to the Booker place near Tucson for the shearing and lambing. I expect they told their wives to put in an appearance, a reminder they live here too. I doubt there will be any trouble from a bunch of women and children.” But then he remembered his fences. He had no doubt the wire had been cut by herders—payback or a warning. “Have you heard something?”
“Just a gut feeling, one I’ve learned the hard way not to ignore,” Jess replied.
“It’s a church social, Jess. Even if some of the womenfolk and children are here, it’s neutral ground. There’s no reason to—”
Jes
s snorted and jerked his head toward the door where Nell Stokes and her son were just stepping into the hall, followed by her sister-in-law, Lottie Galway, and her boys, as well as several other wives and their children. It was the largest gathering of sheep folk that the town had seen outside of Sunday services. The crowd parted, making a wide berth for them. The hall, which had been filled with chatter and laughter just seconds before, was now deadly quiet. And then Trey heard the beginnings of a low murmur. It sounded like bees and grew to the rumble of distant thunder. Wives tried to quiet their husbands, who were now openly asking what those women were doing here. Children glanced from one adult to the next, aware that something had changed but unsure what to do about it.
Trey saw Addie spot Nell Stokes and hurry across the hall to usher the widow and her son into the kitchen. He noticed that Addie nodded to the Galway woman but didn’t include her.
The drone of protest grew louder.
“Some people just never seem to learn their place,” Pete Collins bellowed, making sure he was heard by all assembled. “And what’s that stench? Oh, I got it—sheep manure. Them people must roll around in the stuff.”
“That’s enough, Peter,” his wife said softly, trying to shush him by placing her hand on his arm.
He shoved her hand away. “I’m only saying what everybody’s thinking.”
Trey saw one of the Galway sons start toward Pete, but Jess stepped in front of Pete, blocking the boy’s way. His tin star caught the sun as he did so. “Just settle down, Collins,” he said, “and stop shooting off your mouth before you’ve got all the facts.”
“The fact is—”
Jess held up his hand. “The fact is these women and their families have every right to attend a church function. The fact is, in this particular case, they were invited.”
“By who?” Pete glanced around the room.
“By my wife,” Jess said, and this news set everyone to chattering again.
Most everybody in Whitman Falls respected Jess and Addie. Each of them had had a chance at bigger things. There had been some talk of Jess going into politics one day, and for sure he could have been the regional sheriff, living in Tucson and making a lot more money than he ever could in Whitman Falls. As for Addie, once she earned her medical degree, she could have set up practice anywhere. But after her father died and the community lost the only doctor it had known, Addie and Jess gave up any dreams they might have had about moving to Tucson and stayed on. Folks didn’t forget loyalty like that.