Special Delivery Baby

by Sherri Shackelford

  A sage nod sent the feather on Pippa’s hat fluttering. “The end of a romance is always difficult.”

  Screwing up her face, Tomasina reared back. “Ew. It wasn’t anything like that. Me and James are like brother and sister.” She snapped her fingers. “Why didn’t I think of that before? James must be in love. I bet that’s why he was so cranky in Harper last fall. That old dog. Falling in love and being tied to one person would sure make him ornery. Mostly because he has a girl in every town from here to Galveston.”

  “Some men balk at the idea of settling down.”

  “James Johnson is that sort of fellow.”

  “Hmm.” Pippa tapped her index finger against her chin. “Is James handsome in a swarthy sort of way with a fringed jacket?”

  “That’s him.”

  “He is rather charming, although not my sort. He tried to flirt with me at the county fair.”

  “That’d be James.” For some reason Tomasina was relieved Pippa hadn’t fallen under his spell. She liked a woman with common sense. “Anyway, after James left, Pa died. All the other cowboys took off after we reached Cowboy Creek. Wasn’t a one of them willing to take orders from a woman. That isn’t even the worst thing that happened, though. The worst came last night. A couple of the boys cut my tent and tried to drag me out.”

  With a gasp Pippa rested her fingers over Tomasina’s hand. “Oh, my. You poor thing. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. I had my guns with me. And that other fellow, Will Canfield, helped out.”

  “Will Canfield came to your rescue?” The petite woman leaned back in her seat and tilted her head. “My, my, my. What was Will doing in the drover’s camp?”

  “Looking for me.” Tomasina scowled. “It wasn’t a rescue. I was doing just fine on my own before he helped out.”

  There was no need for folks to go reading things into something when there was nothing there. Whether she’d needed his help or not, he’d been handy with his fists. She’d especially enjoyed the part when he’d knocked out that fellow who’d been insulting her.

  Pippa tapped her chin once more. “Mr. Canfield doesn’t strike me as the sort of man who engages in fisticuffs.”

  “He should. He was real tough.” The man had all sorts of hidden talents. Tomasina absently rubbed her lower lip, recalling his gentle touch. She didn’t know how she’d ever face him again after blubbering in his arms.

  “And now I need a different job.”

  “What is the situation with your funds?” Pippa asked. “How long can you survive without a job?”

  “Come to think of it, I don’t rightly know.” Tomasina pumped her shoulders once in a shrug. “Pa and I just kept what money we needed to live on and put the rest in the bank. I never paid much attention to the balance. I never needed anything I didn’t already have before now.”

  “My days have been rather dull of late. This new challenge suits me.” Pippa stood and reached for her reticule—a ridiculous little beaded bag with a dangling gold tassel. “First things first. You and I will visit the bank. We need to figure out the extent of the crisis before we form a plan.”

  Tomasina rose to her feet with a grin. She liked a person who didn’t dillydally. “Lead the way.”

  The two walked the distance, and Tomasina gave her request to the teller. He dispatched a telegram runner. Taking a seat on a bench opposite the teller booth, the women waited. Each man who entered and exited the building tipped their hat and offered Pippa a polite smile. She answered each of them with a dignified nod in return. One of the men even made a show of dropping his handkerchief at her feet. The “accident” gave him a convenient excuse to compliment Pippa on her hat while completely ignoring Tomasina.

  About the time she figured she’d lose her breakfast if she had to witness any more of the nauseating flirting, the runner returned with a folded piece of paper. The teller glanced at the number, cleared his throat and slid the folded square beneath the grate of the teller cage.

  Tomasina unfolded the paper and gasped.

  Pippa gazed over her shoulder and gasped, as well. “Oh, my! You don’t need a job, Miss Stone. You need an accountant.”

  “I guess it added up over time,” Tomasina said, a touch of awe in her voice. She’d never considered having that much money. Not all at once. The amount was downright obscene. “How did that happen?”

  The reed-thin teller behind the counter adjusted his glasses. “Don’t forget compound interest.”

  She couldn’t imagine spending that much money in a lifetime. Then again, her needs had always been simple. Living in town probably came with a lot more expenses. Dressing as a girl didn’t come cheap, either. That little beaded bag Pippa carried must have cost a fortune.

  Pippa straightened her jaunty blue hat. “I think you should hold off on the job search and do a little shopping instead.”

  “I have to work.” Tomasina stared at the enormous sum. “What do people do if they don’t have a job?”

  “Well, um, there’s all the usual things a lady does. You can embroider.”

  “No way. No how.”

  “Many wealthy women volunteer for a charity. I believe Cowboy Creek has a thriving widows and orphans fund.”

  “I’m not suited for work with orphans.” Coddling was not her strong suit, and orphans probably needed a lot of coddling. “Or widows.”

  “What about the church?”

  “What about it?”

  “You could start a prayer group.”

  “I don’t like spending too much time with God indoors. We’re more comfortable with each other out in the open.”

  “If that’s the case, you can grow a garden.” Pippa hooked her arm through Tomasina’s elbow. “You could always spend your time courting. A lady with an income is quite a catch. Especially for some of the fellows around here.”

  “Where would I grow a garden?” Tomasina scoffed. “And I sure don’t want a fellow. I’d rather get a job.”

  Unbidden, an image of Will Canfield sprang into her head. She blinked him away. A fellow like that would marry someone like Pippa. Someone who didn’t gag when men flirted with her. Someone who knew the purpose of all the fancy silverware at supper. She doubted Pippa had ever discovered a snake in her bedroll and eaten it for supper. Tomasina had once heard there was a special fork just for pickles. She doubted there was such a thing as a snake fork.

  “You do realize,” Pippa continued, “that you could purchase a house with this sum?”

  “A house?”

  “Yes, silly. There are oodles of houses for sale in Cowboy Creek. You could buy one with a large lot and take up gardening between your charity works.”

  A sudden panic seized Tomasina. A house was permanent. If she changed her clothes and found a job, she could always go back to droving if things didn’t work out. Buying a house meant her life had changed forever. Growing a garden meant she was staying put for at least a season. She’d never once stayed in one place that long.

  Tomasina vigorously shook her head. “No. I don’t want a house. I’d rather have a job.”

  “Suit yourself.” Pippa exhaled loudly. “Still, you’d best withdraw some money if you want new clothes. Trust me, being a girl doesn’t come cheap.”

  “I kinda figured that.”

  With what seemed like an enormous sum of money stuffed safely in her pocket, she and Pippa set off for Booker & Son. Once inside, Pippa took charge. She grabbed several ready-made dresses from a display and plucked half a dozen hats from their perches.

  Twenty agonizing minutes later Tomasina emerged from the dressing room. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

  Pippa held her gloved hand in front of her mouth. “It’s on backward, my dear.” She giggled.

  Tomasina glanced at the hooks she’d spent ten minutes wre
stling closed. “Backward? But how are you supposed to wear something if it fastens in the back?”

  “A woman’s life is fraught with difficulties.”

  Tomasina stared at the scattering of fashion plates. “A cowboy would never design a shirt that buttoned up the back.”

  This was hopeless. She was hopeless. All the buttons and bows in the world couldn’t cover who she was on the inside. She wasn’t a lady, and she wasn’t a drover anymore. Not in practice, at least. But she’d always be a drover in her heart.

  Maybe that was the difficulty. A body couldn’t move in two directions at once. Part of her found the idea of a fresh start intriguing while the other part of her wanted to turn back time. She wanted her pa back. She wanted her old life—her previously assured future.

  “Trust me, Miss Stone.” Pippa stood in front of her and grasped the hat she’d balanced on her head. She set the feathered cap at a spirited angle and secured the brim with a hatpin. “Men have plenty of other problems. They simply hide them better.”

  Tomasina would rather face a rattlesnake than the dressing room once more.

  Heaving a sigh, she reached for the buttons with a groan. “I’ll try on another dress.”

  She’d spent her whole life proving people wrong. Becoming a girl was simply another endeavor. She’d never backed down from a challenge, and she wasn’t starting now.

  She couldn’t wait to see Will’s face the next time he saw her.

  Chapter Eight

  Will stared at the infant slumbering in his arms. He had a problem he could no longer ignore: Ava’s mother had yet to make an appearance. He’d been certain she’d return by now.

  The little thing was starting to grow on him. Once they’d established a proper eating and sleeping schedule, things had improved immeasurably. The addition of Hannah, the preacher’s daughter, as a caretaker had removed much of the pressure from Mrs. Foster. The maids were no longer running amok, which meant Simon and the rest of the staff were content, as well.

  Despite the success of their newfound routine, a nagging sense of worry remained. The more time passed without a single lead, the more his unease increased. The longer someone remained missing, the less likely they were to be found.

  A soft rap interrupted his troubled thoughts, and he called entrance.

  Mrs. Foster appeared with a basket of laundry.

  Will smiled. “Just in time. I was running out of shirts.”

  “As to that.” Mrs. Foster tsked. “You better take a look at these.”

  She tipped the basket, revealing a stack of soft pink shirts.

  His smile disappeared. “Those can’t be mine.”

  “They can and they are. Two days late and they’re pink, as well.” Mrs. Foster shook her head with another tsk. “I’d best talk with Mr. Lin. I can’t believe he’d let this happen.”

  Holding the babe in his arms, Will struggled to his feet. “Don’t bother. I’ll take care of it. I want to stop by the boardinghouse and deliver Hannah’s pay. I can take these shirts by the laundry on my way. I’ll bring Simon along. He’ll be overseeing more of the hotel accounts once my house is finished and I move out of the hotel.”

  Mrs. Foster set down the basket and propped one hand on her rounded hip. “And here I thought you’d be a permanent guest. I sure won’t miss you pacing and working at all hours of the night.”

  “You’ll miss me, don’t lie.”

  “Maybe a touch.” She held her thumb and forefinger a hairbreadth apart. “How much longer will we be enjoying your company?”

  “Won’t be long now. All the framing and the interior walls are finished. It’s only a matter of weeks before I can move in.”

  “Surely that great monstrosity won’t be finished in a few weeks’ time?”

  “Not finished, no. But livable.” He adjusted Ava to his opposite arm. “I’d rather oversee the finish work in person.”

  She blew out a low whistle. “Seems a shame, one man living all alone in that great beast of a home. A house like that needs a wife to look out for the kitchens. Children running underfoot.” She set about clearing the plates stacked on his side table. “Just because you had a bit of difficulty with that snooty Miss Dora don’t mean you can’t still find true love.”

  Her back turned, she tossed a speaking look over one shoulder.

  “Enough, Mrs. Foster. I’ve already sent for twelve more mail-order brides. What more do you want of me?”

  Holding the tray with two hands, the housekeeper backed out the door. “Marry one of them.”

  The door swung shut behind her.

  Crossing to the window, he stared down at Eden Street. Of course he wanted a wife and children. The entire house had been designed for a large family. Having survived the war, he viewed each subsequent day he had on this earth as a gift sent straight from God. He’d been letting that gratitude slip of late.

  Ava gurgled and cooed. Adjusting her blankets, he bounced her lightly in his arms. “Would you like some fresh air, Miss Ava? You and I have a mystery to solve. The mystery of the pink shirts.” He stilled. “Actually we have two mysteries to solve, don’t we? I’ll find your mama. And if I don’t, then I’ll find you a good family.”

  In an astonishingly short amount of time, her future had become of paramount importance to him. “But first things first,” he said solemnly. “I cannot be seen about town wearing this particular shade of rose.”

  Twenty minutes later Will approached the Chinese Laundry on First Street with Simon trailing a safe distance behind him.

  “It’s unnatural,” the porter grumbled. “A man walking down the street with a baby. What will people say?”

  Will rolled his eyes and let the space between them stretch. “Show some backbone, Simon.”

  He’d never realized what an oddity a man carrying a baby was in Cowboy Creek. Some people were charmed, others were incredulous and some were downright scandalized. Simon was simply mortified.

  Pippa Neely approached him on the boardwalk from the opposite direction.

  She glanced at the bundle in his arms and clapped. “Oh, my. Is this little Ava? I’ve heard so much about the mysterious abandoned baby of Cowboy Creek.”

  Extending one gloved hand, she caressed Ava’s forehead and fussed over her smocked sleeping dress. “Why, she is just precious.”

  Simon elbowed closer. “Do you need any help, Mr. Canfield? Would you like me to carry the baby for a moment?”

  “I can manage, young man.” Will quirked an eyebrow. “Have you two been introduced?”

  Pippa was the darling of the new intended brides. Of the four, she’d been the most popular. Leah had married right off, and Hannah and Prudence had showed little interest in any of the men in town. He’d never understand those two. Why travel all this way as a potential bride only to shun the chance at marriage?

  After making the proper introductions, Will exchanged a few more pleasantries with Miss Neely.

  Once she’d taken a few paces down the boardwalk, he turned toward Simon. “I thought a man carrying a baby was unnatural?”

  “That was before I saw how much Miss Neely liked her. She’s a right looker.”

  The petite woman was indeed striking. Lovely and effervescent, she attracted men like a lemonade stand on a hot summer’s day. Will had caught more than one bachelor slicking back his hair and purchasing a posy of flowers from the corner vendor. However, despite her many suitors, Pippa hadn’t settled on one fellow yet.

  Trained as an actress, she was a touch too dramatic for Will’s tastes. He felt as though she was always on stage, always playing a part. He preferred someone more authentic, someone with brilliant red curls and expressive green eyes...

  Once again the little firebrand held his thoughts hostage.

  He’d missed her two days in
a row. He’d wanted to check on her to ensure there were no bruises or raw nerves from her ordeal. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was avoiding him. Unlike the other women of his acquaintance, she monopolized his thoughts. He’d even caught himself lingering on the stairs, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. She’d probably sock him in the jaw if she knew. He grinned at the image.

  Once outside the doors of the laundry, voices raised in anger grabbed his attention. He’d been using the laundry for years, and he’d never once heard the soft-spoken proprietor raise his voice. Concerned, he pushed his way inside.

  Complete chaos reigned. The normally scrupulous laundry was littered with clothing in every hue of the rainbow. Steam billowed from the back room. An Oriental gentleman in a flowing black tunic he recognized as Mr. Lin shuffled through the door, gesturing with his hands.

  A very familiar redhead followed close on his heels. For the first time since he’d met her, she was wearing a simple blue-calico dress. The unadorned style showed off her figure and highlighted her delicate stature. His heartbeat picked up rhythm. Her red curls had been piled atop her head. Several strands had escaped and clung damply to her forehead.

  Chan Lin gestured toward the clothes and spoke rapidly in Mandarin.

  Tomasina knotted her arms over her chest. “It’s no use yelling at me. I don’t know what you’re saying.”

  The man heaved a sigh and pointed toward the door. “Out.”

  Will glanced between the two. That seemed clear enough.

  Tomasina gasped. “Are you firing me? I haven’t even worked two whole days yet.”

  The man pointed more forcefully. “Out!”

  Mr. Lin pivoted and caught sight of Will. His expression instantly transformed. “Mr. Canfield. How nice to see you. What can I do for you today?”

  Though heavily accented, his words were easily distinguishable.

  “You do speak English!” Tomasina shouted. “All this time you’ve been muttering at me.”