by Anna Zogg
He spread his jacket on the ground, then sat on it as he reflected on the day. The incident with Ellie in the ranch yard came back to him. What had transpired with the blacksmith? Rhett had heard the yell and had started across the yard when he saw Bartow. Since the foreman had gathered with the men, Rhett decided to steer clear of the crowd. They seemed to have matters well in hand without him.
As he rested, he heard the buckskin mare he’d seen off and on during the day in the adjoining field. Her rounded belly indicated that she would foal in a few weeks. She must be something special, he reasoned, since she shared the pasture with no other horses. Her wide shoulders gave her an aura of power when compared to her sleek neck and small head. And her coloring was beautiful—the black mane, tail and hooves contrasted with her tan body.
After rising, Rhett climbed between the barbed wire to get a closer look.
The moment he stepped into the pasture, her head shot up. He stopped, merely watching her. Several times, she snorted at him and pawed the ground in warning. Stifling a smile, he copied her movements, which caused her to stiffen in surprise. He grinned.
You’re not intimidating me.
Tossing her head, she chuffed. He mirrored her motions and stepped closer. Each time she challenged him, he mimicked her and moved nearer until he was within two arm’s lengths. Then he waited.
She was both curious and cautious. Several times, she stretched her head toward him. Rhett maintained his relaxed, confident stance. Slowly, he raised his hand. Would she allow his touch? One minute, she stood rigid, ears and eyes fixed on him, the next she wheeled away from him with an indignant squeal. He chuckled as she bucked as though reveling in rebellion and freedom.
“This won’t be the last you see of me.” He spoke more to himself than the mare. In truth, the challenge of taming her thrilled him. She had spirit, but was not mean. The look in her eyes proved she was intelligent. As he watched her prance around the pasture—showing off—he grinned. Horses were sociable creatures. Intelligent ones craved friends.
Me.
This mare needed gentling. Perhaps—the thought ran through his head—Ellie would someday ride the horse. What a sight the pair would be with her fair hair and the mare’s dark mane. No doubt Marshall intended to train the horse, so Rhett wouldn’t interfere with that. He would merely befriend her.
After pushing himself between the barbed-wire fencing, he picked up his shovel. For the first time in years he felt like whistling. No doubt his friend Pete would chide him for his efforts, but Rhett indulged himself with a few bars of “Billy Boy.”
* * *
“Where’d that chucklehead get to?” An irritated voice rose to the rafters, rousing Rhett from a doze.
He took care to make no noise as he rolled over and confirmed that Bartow was the speaker. A few seconds later, footsteps tromped out of the shed.
“I thought you said he was in there.” The foreman’s voice rose from outside.
“Guess he left,” answered another man. “But I didn’t see where he went. Maybe he...”
The voices faded along with the men’s footsteps.
Rhett considered his options. Reveal his location and he might incur less wrath. But instinct told him to keep his sleeping spot secret for now. Even if it annoyed the foreman.
What did Bartow want? Rhett had finished the day’s work, so why the exasperation?
When he’d finished his task, the men had still been eating, and Rhett had decided it best to lay low for a while. Get his meal later. But while he’d waited, he had fallen asleep. From the pooling shadows, he determined his nap had lasted no more than a half hour.
In seconds, Rhett shimmied down to the ground and peered between the slatted boards. The two men were no longer visible. He ducked out the back, then made his way to the house, keeping out of sight as much as possible. His stomach grumbled while his stiff muscles howled in protest. As he’d done the night before, he approached the door with caution. This time, no one was inside the main room and the door to Ellie’s room remained closed. He dared not creep closer to find out if she was inside. A generous plate of food sat on the sideboard. His? Ignoring the old woman’s instructions from the night before, he grabbed the tin and headed outside.
He stood at the side of the building, wolfing down the meal. Only the dogs seemed to notice him. Postures wary, they came within a couple yards. Keeping his body relaxed, Rhett tossed the two a few morsels. They pounced on the food, then waited for more, still maintaining their distance. When he ignored them, they sat on their haunches and watched his every move. Tongues lolling, they salivated as he finished his meal.
Smart dogs, smart horses.
They weren’t quick to give their trust, proving that they’d endured a fair share of neglect. The challenge of befriending not only them, but the mare, piqued his interest. Someday their friendship might prove beneficial.
Rhett wiped his hands on the grass then dumped scraps off the tin plate and onto the ground. As he walked back toward the porch, he glanced over his shoulder. The dogs pounced on the leftovers, but they ignored him. Good. Already they’d lost some of their wariness. After washing the plate at the pump, he replaced it, then went back out.
As soon as he emerged from the main house, Bartow and another man stalked in his direction. Obviously heading for him.
Rhett descended the steps and waited.
The foreman jabbed his finger at Rhett. “Where’ve you been?”
A rhetorical question? Bartow must have seen him go into the house. When the foreman’s glower deepened, he answered, “Eating supper.”
“I know that. I meant before now.”
Rhett waved to the fence posts behind him. “Digging holes.” He pointed to the man beside the foreman. McCoy? “Like this man instructed.”
“Boss, I told him to do at least ten holes,” the speaker interjected. “He did eighteen.”
Bartow turned on him. “I don’t care how many.” He swiveled back to Rhett. “When you finish one task, don’t assume you’re done for the day.”
“Very well.” Rhett spread his hands. “What do you wish me to do now?”
The foreman straightened his shoulders with a jerk. “Nothing. I...” His jaws moved like he had put something bad-tasting in his mouth. “Don’t do it again.” Without another word, he stomped off.
McCoy remained behind, face twisted with indecision. “The boss likes to...” He jammed one hand in his pocket, but apparently decided not to finish his thought. “We need new fence posts to replace the old ones in that pasture, but first on the south side.” He pointed to where Rhett had already started. “Just keep working on it until I say otherwise.”
“Be glad to. How soon would you like the whole job finished?”
“Uh...” The man shrugged. “Say by Tuesday.”
“Very well.” That would be plenty of time for Rhett to not only place the posts, but work with the mare and dogs.
“Okay, then.” McCoy turned on his heel.
Rhett stared after him before walking in the opposite direction. More than ever, he planned to keep out of the men’s sight when he wasn’t working. Whatever McCoy planned to say obviously had something to do with Bartow keeping tabs on everyone at all times.
Somehow, Rhett suspected it had to do with more than his being a foreman.
Chapter Six
“Washday, miss.” Mrs. Johnson tapped on the open bedroom door as Ellie sat at her desk.
She had been up earlier than usual that morning, knowing that the housekeeper planned to do laundry that day. However, she wanted to finish writing a list of needed medical supplies while it was fresh in her mind. “Thank you. I’ll be done momentarily.”
Mrs. Johnson rested a hand on the doorjamb. “Could I ask you to bring your things outside? My sister’s wanting my help.”
“I’d be glad to.”
/> The housekeeper set an empty basket at the foot of the bed before bustling away.
After a few minutes, Ellie rose. As she gathered her linens, her mind kept returning to the sheet of paper on her desk. She jotted down a few more items. Cookie planned to take a trip to Casper soon and promised to pick up anything she requested. She needed to replace the items that had been lost or ruined on the trip out west.
When ready, she carried the basket through the great room, but paused at the window to view the scene outside.
A woman, who was presumably Mrs. Johnson’s sister, appeared to be deep in conversation with Rhett.
Several things struck Ellie. The woman, who was much younger than Mrs. Johnson, seemed to know Rhett. The woman’s hair was a burnished brown, pinned into a thick bun. Eyes alight, she kept touching Rhett’s arm in a familiar way. What were they talking about?
From where Ellie stood, she couldn’t see his face. He nodded a few times as the woman spoke. Mrs. Johnson hurried past them but paused and turned when her sister called out to her. Several minutes passed as the three conversed, then Mrs. Johnson went on her way.
Ellie knew she should carry the basket outside, but she hesitated to intrude upon their conversation.
Finally, Rhett walked back across the yard while the woman continued to watch him.
An odd feeling rose in Ellie. She realized that she did not like the idea of another woman enjoying what appeared to be the same camaraderie she and Rhett had shared. Was this envy?
A slightly out-of-breath Mrs. Johnson entered the house, startling her.
“Ah, there ya are, miss. I thought you’d forgotten.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“I could see you were busy with your writing.” Mrs. Johnson reached for the basket. “I’ll take it.”
“Tell me, is that your sister?” With a tilt of her head, Ellie indicated the woman outside.
“Yes. Although really a half sister. I was nearly all growed when Alice was born.” The housekeeper moved to go outside, but Ellie held up a hand to stop her.
“It seems she knows Rhett. I saw them speaking.”
The woman’s expression changed ever so slightly and her shoulders squared. “They do, miss.” Her lips pursed as she studied Ellie.
The seconds ticked by as the woman did nothing but scrutinize her.
Ellie’s face felt singed like she’d been out in the sun too long. “I—I was just curious.”
She expected the housekeeper to hurry out the door, but the woman continued to remain silent. Making up her mind about something, she set the basket of laundry on the floor.
“Pert near three years ago, Rhett came across Alice’s husband. He was in a bad way. Mauled by a bear. Would’ve died if Rhett hadn’t gotten him back home safe. From all accounts, the soldiers Rhett was working for as a scout were pretty mad. Felt like he was wasting their time. But my Alice will never forget his kindness.”
And neither will you. That seemed obvious from the intensity with which Mrs. Johnson spoke. And that would explain the young woman’s kindly expression as she’d talked to Rhett. Naturally, she would be grateful.
Ellie spoke slowly. “Thank you for telling me.”
“One more thing, miss. If’n you ever hear trash talk about Rhett, don’t believe it.” Mrs. Johnson picked up the linen basket, then slowly straightened. “He’s a rare man, that one.”
After a single nod, she headed out the door.
Pondering the housekeeper’s words, she slowly exhaled. That was the most Mrs. Johnson had said since her arrival. Ellie returned to her room and the list on her desk, but her thoughts kept returning to their conversation.
What little she knew about Rhett intrigued her, but she sensed there was more to him than she imagined. A rare man? She was beginning to believe that.
But what surprised her the most was her strong reaction when she’d seen Alice and Rhett talking. Had Ellie really been jealous?
* * *
If I don’t do something soon, I’m going to scream.
Tired of her afternoon nap, Ellie thumped her pillow. She felt all she’d done was rearrange her possessions, then wander about the house and the yard. Mrs. Johnson and her sister had been busy with the wash, and they’d made it clear she was in their way when she had tried to help. In the middle of that hubbub, Uncle Will had rushed off once more to take care of some business.
That meant she was again on her own.
Her eyes lit on the small carved figurine of a horse her uncle had given to her when she was a child, and then her mother’s Bible. Now that she had been at the ranch nearly a week, she was ready to get on with her life. Apparently her uncle wasn’t going to help. His riding off to take care of who-knew-what seemed to indicate that he had an inflexible schedule and a plan that didn’t include her.
“So what does he expect me to do all day?” She glared at the rough wood ceiling. “Sit around and crochet?”
She wanted to tend to the cowboys’ wounds, but all of them seemed to prefer Cookie. No one would tell her how Matt’s burn was healing. The three men that she had spoken to about the cuts on their hands avoided her questions. Cookie finally pulled her aside and told her in no uncertain terms that he would ask for her help if he needed it.
That seemed to end that—at least until Ellie could make her case to her uncle. But that could not happen until he stayed around the ranch long enough for them to talk.
After rising, she smoothed the blankets on the bed. For the third time that day, she rearranged the pillows.
Apparently it was up to her to find her own place and purpose on the ranch.
Ellie studied the Bible on the desk. The first challenge would be church. If Uncle Will refused to accompany her, then she would go without him. Unfortunately, taking the wagon and driving it herself would be impossible. Her father had taught her many things, but hitching up horses and driving them wasn’t one of them. Servants had always taken care of that.
But the idea of not going to church appalled her. It was her Christian duty to be a good example not only to her uncle, but to all the ranch hands. A week ago, she had not been able to attend, but that was because she was still on the road. Now that she was settled, she had no excuses not to.
Should she ask Guy to drive her as Uncle Will had suggested? She didn’t relish the idea of spending hours alone with the foreman to and from town. As she fingered the Bible’s embossed leather cover, she determined to put aside personal preferences.
As soon as Ellie heard the noise of supper being prepared, she flung open her bedroom door and stalked out. Mrs. Johnson glanced up before continuing with her task of arranging tin plates and cups on the table.
Ellie watched for a moment. “Can I do that?”
The frown the woman cast her way broadcasted a definitive “Stay out of my way.” But her words were kinder. “No thanks, miss.”
She stepped to one side as Mrs. Johnson made her way around the table. When Cookie hustled in from the side door with a steaming kettle, Ellie moved to help him.
“I got this.” He bent from the weight of the cauldron-sized pot, struggling to place it on the sideboard. “Ya don’t wanna get burned.”
True. He had wrapped a thick cloth around the pot’s handle and clutched it with gnarly fingers. Still, Ellie clenched her hands to keep herself from jumping in to help.
When he began to dish the stew into a bowl, she reached for the spoon. “I can do that. If you like.” Without pausing, Cookie shook his head.
“Oh, miss, you don’t want to spoil your dress.” Mrs. Johnson spoke from behind her. Before Ellie could answer, the woman grabbed the filled bowl.
Making a small sound of frustration, Ellie backed away. In no time, the gray-haired couple had everything ready. Two large tureens of stew, along with several loaves of bread, sat on the table. An assortment of condimen
ts also waited. Ellie studied the Johnsons as they glanced back at her. Clearly they were uncomfortable with her desire to pitch in.
Obviously no helping with food preparation and service.
“If ya like, miss, you can call the men to supper.” Cookie held out a clean ladle.
Well, that was something.
Squelching a sigh, she took it and walked out to the porch where the large triangle hung. With more confidence than she felt, she used the utensil as she had seen him, clattering it around the inside of the heavy metal. The clanging was loud enough to alert anyone in the immediate vicinity that food was ready. Within minutes, men appeared from all over the yard, responding to the call.
Fixing a smile on her face, Ellie nodded as they streamed by. As Guy came up the steps, she held up her palm. “A moment, please.”
He didn’t bother to hide his smirk. “Sure thing, Ellie.”
As the men passed, several grinned. One snickered.
She waited until all of them entered the house before she spoke. Drawing in a slow breath, she drew herself up. “I was wondering...” She chewed the inside of her lower lip, trying to force herself to ask him to drive her to church. Surely she could tolerate a few hours of Guy’s company.
A ranch hand, trotting across the yard, distracted her. At first, she thought it was Rhett, but she was wrong.
“You was wondering...?” Guy prodded. Resting a hand on the porch column, he leaned closer.
She opened her mouth, but the words stuck in her throat.
The latecomer leaped up the stairs, two at a time, but came to an abrupt halt when he caught sight of them. Confusion transformed into a knowing grin.
With one jerk of his head, Guy indicated he should go inside.
The man complied, a stupid grin plastering his lips.
Guy turned back to her, eyes widening. “Yes?”
“I...” Ellie cleared her throat. Impossible to ask him! She could not abide the idea of riding alone with him all the way to Casper. “I was wondering. Since you’re the foreman, you would know—why don’t all the workers come when the dinner bell rings?”