“Good morning, Mr. McClintock. What brings you back so soon?”
She was straight to the point. For some reason, he liked that she remembered his name. Against his better judgment, he moved closer. Her hazel eyes followed his progress and her brow pinched. She was beautiful. “I was asked to come back and inform you that Bronson went back to your ranch a few weeks ago.”
“Oh? Yes, I remember he promised to return to check on me. It was very nice. I’m sorry he made the trip for nothing.”
“He found that both your house and barn were burnt to the ground.”
She paled and lifted her hand to her chest. “Give me a moment.” Lifting the child, she placed it on a blanket next to her. With a delicate grace, she lifted her skirt with one hand and ascended the stairs. “Please forgive my manners. Would you like some coffee?”
At her nearness, once again he found himself with a dry throat, which made it hard to swallow. Impossible to talk. Like a dumb fool he nodded in response.
*****
Laura bent to lift her son from the blanket and walked into the cabin. She placed her now sleepy son in his cradle. Her entire body shook with fear. She’d invited the man, Josiah, in for coffee for a reason. Hopefully, she’d find a way to keep him there until her sister and husband returned from town.
Albert was alive. No one else would be vindictive enough to burn the house. It was a warning. His twisted way of telling her he’d find her. She had little doubt he eventually would.
The tall man stood awkwardly by the door, hat in hand, his amber brown eyes pinned to the wall behind her. For some reason, she found his size reassuring and his avoidance of eye contact endearing. His massive, wide shoulders filled the doorway giving her the illusion of a barrier from harm.
“Please sit. I’ll warm up the coffee.” She fumbled to find something to do with her hands, so she brushed errant strands of hair back from her face. “I must ask you more questions.”
Once again, his response was a nod and she wondered how she’d manage a conversation with a man who barely spoke. “I’m afraid my sister and her family went to town. The children were excited about going to the mercantile, so they decided to all go.”
“I won’t stay long.” His reply was the opposite of what she hoped.
“Well, of course, you must have much to do after the snow storm and all.” She placed a cup in front of him and sat across the table. “It was quite strange, wasn’t it?”
Once again, he nodded, but he finally spoke. His deep voice was soft but strong. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her breathing slowed when his eyes met hers. Something in the depths of his dark eyes reassured her. “Did Mr. Cole say if it looked to be as if lightning struck?”
He shook his head. “It’s possible. But we’ve not had much in the way of thunderstorms this winter. We wondered if you’d done it before leaving.”
His accent was strange, one she’d never heard before. “No.” Her heart sank and she faltered when coming up with what to say next. “It could’ve been Indians, I suppose.”
“I don’t see them setting an empty house on fire in the middle of winter. No reason for it.”
She nodded. “The house is away from any neighbors, very remote. I hated it. After going to town one day, two men followed me when I headed home and it scared me to death. I couldn’t go home, you see. There happened to be a family heading this way and I joined with them and that is how I ended up here.”
Both took sips of their coffee and she continued speaking. “Everything I owned was there. I planned to ask my brother-in-law to take me back to get my belongings. I suppose it is a moot point now.”
“They are just things. Unlike lives, which can’t be replaced. It’s good that you and your child are safe.” He looked to her and she saw sadness so deep that she wondered what he’d lost in his past.
“You are right, Mr. McClintock.”
“Call me Josiah. Everyone does.” He took a deep breath and stood. She hurried to stand next to him.
“Can you stay a bit longer? Please?”
His eyes rounded and then narrowed. “What are you afraid of, Mrs. Foster?”
“Laura. If I’m to call you by your first name then please call me Laura.” Relief flooded when he sat again and she lowered to a chair facing him, her cup gripped tightly in her hands.
“I’m afraid of the dead, Josiah.”
His eyes locked with hers before looking toward the doorway and, for a moment, she thought he’d bolt for the door. Instead, he swallowed. “The dead don’t come back, Laura.”
Chapter Thirteen
“I’ll need you to hold ’em down while I look for the bullet. Give me a minute,” her father instructed and she and two miners prepared to hold the hapless man’s arms and legs to the table.
Olivia wiped at her sweaty brow with her upper arm. “Just one left, Mr. Burns. Hold on.” She pressed on the man’s shoulder and studied him. He looked to be in his thirties. The other miners who’d brought him in held his legs and waited for her father’s cue. The third bullet was lodged somewhere near the man’s left hip.
His frightened eyes met hers and he nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
She felt bad for the miner who’d been riding to town and was accosted by robbers. The cowards had taken his gold, shot him three times and left him for dead. Thankfully, the other two were also coming to town just minutes behind.
Her father looked to her. “Ready?”
Thankfully, by the time the bullet was recovered, the man had passed out from the pain. It surprised her he’d not done so earlier as he’d endured the other two painful extractions fully awake.
The miners who brought the man in left to go on about their business and she cleaned up while her father stitched up the last wound. “He won’t be able to go back to the camp for a while.” Her father’s brow furrowed. “We’re going to have to expand the clinic. Get a couple rooms set up in the back for the miners who become injured or ill.”
Olivia agreed. “Maybe hire some help, too.”
Dr. Dougherty gave her a warm look. “Go home, Olivia. You’ve been here since early morning.” She’d made it a habit of working at the clinic in the afternoons so her father could rest. Today, however, she’d come early and been there all day since he’d taken her mother to visit an elderly friend.
“I think I will take you up on that, Father.” She removed her apron and went to rinse her hands and face. “Should I see if Elaine Witt can come stay with him?”
They often paid the young woman to care for the ill. She had a gift for nursing and often came by to help. The girl was proving to be an eager student.
“Yes, can you do that on your way home?” Her father didn’t look up from his work. Olivia smiled. He was in his element, a good doctor who cared for each patient, always meticulous over every detail.
Once she wrapped her shawl over her shoulders, she left the clinic and took a deep breath of fresh air. It was nice to enjoy the outdoors after being cooped up for so long over the last week. She’d barely had a moment to herself between the clinic and helping to organize the annual spring dance.
It tickled her that most of the town’s single men were forced to dance with older, married women as there weren’t many eligible women in town. The women that attended always ended the evening with sore feet and hobbling from stepped-on toes.
For the past few days, Olivia purposely kept busy since every spare moment and each minute alone, her thoughts immediately went to Bronson, to their time together. She’d hoped he’d come to see her sooner than now, but he didn’t.
She’d visited Matt just a few days earlier. His father’s recovery was obvious as the man greeted her sitting in the front room by the fireplace.
Matt had accepted her ending of their relationship with his usual lack of emotion. He did not once try to talk her out of it, either. He’d offered to escort her back to town, but did not press her when she refused. Although he’d not seemed upset, she still felt guilty over h
er betrayal of his trust. It was not Bronson’s fault she’d ended the relationship, it was probably going to happen once she realized Matt would not budge on her not practicing medicine.
Outside the clinic, she descended the steps when the object of her thoughts rode down the street toward her. Bronson dismounted at seeing her, his vivid eyes pinning her. Her stomach flipped and she considered what to say to him.
He pulled his horse to a hitch post and then headed straight to her. It was hard to decipher his mood when he looked to her with expectation, his face tight. “I came to see you, Olivia. How are you?”
She noted the bruising on his temple had diminished, hardly visible now. “I’m well.”
He returned to his horse and grabbed a small, wooden rose. His face reddened as he handed it to her, his movements stiff. “I made this for you.”
“It’s beautiful, thank you.” She held it up and admired the workmanship. “How did you manage to make it so delicate? The detail is amazing.”
He smiled at her with obvious pride. “It’s a hobby. Something to do when I’m thinking too much. Ma insisted I stay in bed for a couple days.”
Did that mean he’d been thinking of her?
They began to walk again, then Bronson touched her arm. “Are you with child?”
Olivia hadn’t thought about it. She quickly went over the date. Her monthly flow was timely, but she’d not yet begun to bleed. “I’m sorry. I thought to know by now, but I don’t know. I don’t think so.” Her stomach pitched. It was possible. Very possible.
He frowned, his eyes flickering to her stomach. “When will you know for sure?”
Her cheeks warmed and she tried to figure out what to say. He’d yet to say anything about his feelings. Yes, they’d only come to know each other, but she’d thought of little else but him since they’d left Josiah’s cottage. He did bring her a gift. Yet, should she read more into it? Perhaps he’d truly just made it just to pass the time as he’d said.
Olivia attempted a smile at him. “A few days. I’m sorry. I should have been clearer. I…”
“No, don’t apologize. It’s all right. I know these things are not always exact.” As they neared the Witt’s house, Bronson placed his hand on her arm. Olivia stilled at the warm touch.
He offered her a soft smile. “I will be here for a couple of days. If you want to talk, I’ll either be at the mercantile or Mitch’s house in the evenings.”
“We’ll talk before you leave.”
He walked with her to the Witts, staying a polite distance away while she spoke to the girl about going to mind the injured miner, then they walked again.
They arrived at her house and she wondered about inviting him in. The decision was taken from her when her mother opened the door. “Hello, Bronson, come in, please.”
They both turned to each other and Olivia felt the overwhelming urge to shove him away and run inside and lock the door. It was either that or spend more time around the man who affected her too much.
Bronson lifted a brow and she realized that, like a dimwit, she remained standing still looking at him without speaking. Olivia blinked and stalked to her house. “Well, come on. Mother won’t move from the doorway.”
Once inside, Olivia watched in consternation as her mother greeted Bronson with a soft hug, inviting him to eat some muffins she’d just made. She prattled on about the ingredients as she walked to the kitchen.
The infernal man had the audacity to wink at her and then turned and followed her mother.
With no other choice, she followed after them.
“I’m glad to see you two are getting along,” her mother said, to which Bronson quickly looked to Olivia.
“Mother…” Olivia tried to intervene, but her mother waved her off.
“I hope you are going to the spring dance. Olivia is helping organize it, you know.”
“I didn’t know that, ma’am. Of course, I’ll be there.”
“Mother…”
“Perhaps you can even come and escort her.”
“Mother!”
With a slight curve to his lips, Bronson looked to Olivia. “I’d be obliged to go with you, Olivia.”
He made small talk with her mother. With his easygoing personality, it was easy to picture him as a part of her family. Maybe she was overthinking the entire situation. Perhaps, she should accept his proposal and marry him.
*****
Two days later, Bronson and Mitch sat on empty whiskey barrels, their backs to the rear entrance of the mercantile.
Bronson drank deeply from a jug of water and poured the remaining contents over his head. “Remind me not to offer to help next time. Every single limb of my body hurts.” He stretched his arms over his head.
“Not if I remember how much mine hurt.” Mitch pushed his shoulders back and groaned. “I think my back is broke.”
“Mine too,” Bronson said and groaned.
His friend glanced around the area in front of them, as if ensuring not to be overheard. “Laura Foster came to the mercantile the other day. Isn’t she the woman you met while on your way to Fort Laramie?”
Bronson nodded. “Yes. She lives near here with her sister and husband, the Davises.”
“I see why you are so infatuated. She’s beautiful. Sad eyes though.” Mitch drank from his bottle. “You gonna go see her?”
He’d considered it. Especially after Josiah told him she acted terrified of who may have set the house on fire. She’d asked him to stay for a couple hours until her sister returned from town. Josiah planned to check on them regularly and it was fine with him.
For some reason, Bronson hadn’t noticed she wasn’t forefront in his thoughts anymore. Yet he would still see about her. He’d seek her out once the situation with Olivia was settled and see if, perhaps, he and Josiah could do something to help.
Mitch interrupted his thoughts. “Have you gone by to talk to her?”
“I did for a short bit. I’ll go back to see her. But right now, I have too many things going on.”
Mitch waited for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, Mitch asked, “What kinds of things? You seem serious.”
Bronson shrugged. “It’ll work itself out. Just have to wait is all.” The back door of the mercantile slammed shut and they swiveled around.
“It’s probably Charley. He’s a hard worker, but a bit too high-strung at times. Needs fresh air to settle down.” Mitch laughed.
Bronson looked to the door. “Josiah told me he is plannin’ to keep an eye out for Laura Foster. Seems taken by her.”
“Does it bother you?” Mitch asked, looking at the rear entrance of the mercantile as the door opened again.
It shocked Bronson that Josiah’s attentions toward Laura Foster didn’t bother him one bit. It was not Laura Foster who mattered the most to him right now.
Charley poked his head out. “I need to help Miss Bixby load her purchases. Can you come inside now, Mr. Banks?”
Mitch stood. “Yep. Why didn’t you say something when you came out a moment ago?”
The lanky teen shook his head. “No, sir, it wasn’t me. Miss Olivia was here.”
Bronson let out a long breath and hung his head wondering how much she had overheard.
Great.
Chapter Fourteen
Her lungs burned with the exertion of running, or maybe it was from the attempts to keep from crying. Each breath was more like a gulp.
She’d overheard part of Mitch and Bronson’s conversation. It had been hard to keep from running through the mercantile without rousing questions. Charley Witt lifted his head from whatever he was doing and gave her a surprised look when Olivia returned so soon after going to the back entrance of the mercantile. “Were they not there, ma’am?”
She’d muttered something about not wanting to interrupt them. Now she rushed blindly toward the clinic.
Bronson was in love with another woman. It sounded like she lived nearby and he was going to see about her. Of course, that’s why he’d be
en so moody after they’d made love. He’d acted out of passion. It was something they’d allowed to happen in the moment, neither giving any thought to the consequences or the fact that they didn’t care deeply for each other.
What a dreadful mistake. Olivia’s chest burned from the hurt of overhearing his words.
Now she knew why he’d not visited prior to the end of the week.
Her father came to see who entered and smiled at her. “Did you enjoy your walk?”
Of course not. “Yes, it’s a nice day outside.” She blinked to keep the tears from slipping. “Something irritated my eyes, must be the dust.”
Her father frowned. “It’s cloudy, looks about to rain.”
She turned to a window and notice he was correct. It was indeed a gloomy day, which suited her just fine. She couldn’t falter, not now. Her father would ask too many questions. “Father, why don’t you go on home? I’ll finish up here.”
After a grateful look, he did not waste time and went for his coat.
She collapsed against the door after locking it behind her father. How was it possible? To think she was about to tell Bronson she’d accept his offer. After all, she could barely spend a moment without thinking about him. She was definitely besotted with him.
Thank God she’d overheard their conversation. Otherwise she’d be making a fool of herself.
She collapsed onto a chair and held her head in her hands. Life sure had a way of changing things. A bit over a week ago, she would have laughed at anyone who told her she’d find herself in this situation today.
No matter, all was not lost. “Oh, Olivia, stop being a whiny ninny,” she muttered.
Someone rapped on the door.
“Olivia?” Bronson knocked and she came from the back room. She opened the door and moved aside. Bronson walked in with caution, his gaze sizing her up. “Charley said you stopped by the mercantile.”
“Yes.” Olivia walked to a chair and motioned to it. “Why don’t you sit?”
Every Blue Moon Page 7