The Brides of the Old West: Five Romantic Adventures from the American Frontier
Page 4
Slowly, her eyes slid to Luke as she reminded herself that she had asked God to forgive her for being so judgmental of the man. She was going to be more patient with him.
As Suzanne continued to the porch, Luke came to his feet. She might object to his grumpiness at times, but he had offered to help around the house. She supposed that he did have nice manners. She appreciated that. Her mother has always told her to seek a man with manners.
“Are you men hungry?” she asked.
“I could eat,” Hank answered.
“No, I’m not hungry at all,” Luke replied, turning his blue eyes toward the distant mountain range.
Good, Suzanne thought, I won’t have to add more gravy to the last of the venison roast. She entered the house, humming “Rock of Ages,” determined to hold on to her good mood for the rest of the day.
Luke Thomason proved to be more hungry than he’d thought, for after Hank nagged him into submission, he had joined them at the table. At first, he seemed to feel awkward and out of place—particularly when Suzanne said graces—but he began to relax as Hank broached the subject of rodeos.
“Yes, sir. I made most of my money rodeoing on weekends.”
“Ever get hurt?” Hank asked.
“Just once. Nothing serious.” He had glanced at Suzanne, who immediately pretended an interest in filling the water glasses. She had a feeling if he had broken both legs he’d never admit it. He was determined to appear as healthy as his horse.
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” she whirled, water pitcher in hand. “What’s your horse’s name? I hate not being able to call him by his name when I talk to him…”
She had just given herself away. Her delight in petting the stallion, and imagining the life he and his master lived, had been her own secret until now. Now they knew she was in the habit of talking to animals!
“His name is Smoky. When people look at him, they wonder where I got the name.”
“He has a smoky-looking patch on his forehead,” Suzanne guessed. “I think it’s a very good name.”
Luke half-smiled. “You’re right about the patch. That’s where he got his name.”
“And my bay is named after these wonderful mountains.”
“Rocky.” Luke nodded. “That, too, is a good name.”
“But not as good as Nellie,” Suzanne countered, enjoying the conversation now. She filled each glass, set the pitcher down, and took her seat again.
“And since we’re comparing names,” Luke said, “how did you settle on Nellie?”
Suzanne hesitated, glancing at her father. His gray eyes were amused as he looked across the table at her, obviously curious to see how she would answer.
“Because it suits her,” she said with a smile. “And because that was her name when we bought her, sick, half-starved, and half-price, from a desperate rancher’s wife.”
It had turned into a pleasant meal. Luke had offered to help with the dishes but she had refused. Pa had gone to the sofa; Luke had wandered off somewhere, and Suzanne had dragged to her bed as soon as the kitchen was clean. Sunday had always been a day of rest for them, and today she was looking very forward to a long nap.
She was almost asleep when her father’s voice echoed through the house.
“Suzanne!”
She heard the urgency in his tone and jumped out of bed, pulling an everyday dress on over her petticoats and chemise.
“Suzanne!” His voice came from the porch. “Hurry.”
She bolted from her room, reaching the front door just in time to see Hank fall in the yard. He landed facedown on the ground, yelping in disgust as he tried to lift his ankle.
“What are you doing?” she cried.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” he snapped. “I was trying to get to the stable…”
“Pa, you know you can’t go down there. The path is filled with gopher holes and you could turn your ankle again. But you just did! What am I going to do with you?” she cried in frustration,
“Will you quit babbling and listen to me?” Hank snapped, glaring at her. “Something’s wrong with one of the horses. Hurry!” He bit the words out through clenched teeth as one hand shot to his rib cage. She wondered if he’d cracked another rib.
Suzanne leaped to her feet and saw Luke bounding out the door of the house. His eyes shot from Suzanne to Hank sprawled on the ground.
“Help him!” she cried as she tore out to the stable.
She could hear the cries of an animal in pain, and her heart jumped to her throat. She tried not to think about what she would find. From the animal’s shrill cry she envisioned a grizzly in the barn, tearing into the mare’s flesh…
She burst through the door of the stable, blinking against the dimness, giving no thought to what she would have done if, in fact, a grizzly had been loose in the barn. Instead, she came up short, her nose tingling from the tartness of straw and manure… and the mare in labor!
Blaze was down in the clean straw that Suzanne had lovingly provided the day before, her bulging abdomen heaving with the struggle of giving birth.
“Oh Blaze,” Suzanne cried, rushing to the narrow stall.
She dropped down beside the brown mare and ran her palm up and down the white star on the mare’s forehead. Like her father, Suzanne kept a special place in her heart for the horses. What if there was a complication, what if…. The horror of losing Blaze was more than Suzanne could bear.
The mare rolled her head, peering up at Suzanne with wild, pain-filled eyes. She seemed to be begging for help, and feeling more helpless than ever, Suzanne sank her teeth in her lower lip. Of all times for her father to be laid up! He would know exactly what to do here, while Suzanne’s knowledge was limited to comforting words. Why hadn’t they discussed this? she wondered, as her frustration turned to panic.
The stable door creaked and she whirled to see Luke hurrying back to the stall. A wave of relief swept over her, even though she knew his assistance was limited to one good arm. He said nothing as he looked grimly at the mare. She needed desperately to hear something encouraging, but she doubted she would hear anything very encouraging from this man, who seemed to see only the dark side.
He knelt down beside the mare, using his right hand to gently prod her side. Then he moved to the mare’s bottom to appraise the situation.
“The colt is coming,” he announced matter-of-factly, “Do you have any instruments for…”
“Pa has a black bag up at the house.”
“Please get it,” he said, as he stretched out his right hand to gently stroke the mare’s heaving side. “And tell him we can manage.”
Could they? she wondered during her flight from the stable to the house. Hank, huddled on the porch step, was firing questions as fast as he could speak.
“Blaze is in labor,” she said, rushing past him.
From inside she grabbed the black bag and a towel from the cupboard, then ran breathlessly for the stable.
Suzanne thrust the bag and towel toward Luke, then crumpled down, gasping for breath. She saw that Luke had managed to get both shirtsleeves rolled up, preparing for his role as veterinarian. Her eyes fell to his broad hand, his smooth long fingers, and her confidence was strengthened. Nevertheless, she felt compelled to ask the question that had popped into her mind during her frantic run.
“Have you ever done this?”
“Of course,” he answered tersely.
Well, how did she know? She had a right to ask, didn’t she? He shot a brief glance in her direction. “The mare does most of the work anyway,” he added.
“Oh.” She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She had no choice but to trust him; on the other hand, he could be a godsend.
“Try to keep her still,” Luke instructed.
Suzanne placed her hand on the mare’s neck and began to murmur words of comfort.
“It’s okay,” she spoke softly. “We’re going to help you get the little one here.”
The mare whinnied and m
ade an effort to get up. Suzanne clung to her and began to chatter, saying whatever came to mind.
“We’re halfway there,” Luke called to her.
His voice floated over Blaze’s suffering body, and she thought the man sounded calm, in control. Suddenly she was very glad to have him here with her, doing the work, helping Blaze. Maybe she could put up with his grumpiness a little while longer.
The mare tossed her head back and bared her teeth in a moan of anguish. “Hang on, sweetie,” she said, wrapping her arms around the mare’s neck, “it’s almost over.”
“It is over,” Luke spoke confidently.
Suzanne looked across at him. A gleam of perspiration filled his handsome face, but the blue eyes glowed with pride. For the first time, a broad smile softened that serious mouth. “We have a hearty little male.”
“We do?” Suzanne squealed, alarming the mare with her outburst. “I’m sorry, Blaze. I didn’t mean to startle you, but you have a healthy baby.”
The mare heaved one long quivering sigh and sank into the straw, as though she understood what Suzanne had said.
Suzanne unwound her arms from the mare and crawled around to Luke. He was wrapping a towel around the colt and Suzanne stared, feeling a wave of tenderness sweep over her.
“Could I hold him?”
“Careful,” Luke instructed, placing the warm, wiggling bundle in her arms.
Suzanne touched the miniature blaze on his forehead. “He’s just like his mother. Luke, he’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” she said.
Luke grinned. “Yeah, he is.”
She turned to Luke, smiling warmly. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Seeing the healthy colt is thanks enough,” he said, trailing a finger down the colt’s forehead. “I’ve always felt that animals are much kinder than people. I like helping them.”
Suzanne opened her mouth to ask just why he felt that way, but something restrained her. He was such a private person, revealing so little about himself.
“I guess we should give him to his mother now,” Luke said, “if you can bear to part with him.”
Reluctantly, she handed over the colt, and Luke placed him next to Blaze. Suzanne watched, admiring how adeptly Luke managed with only his right hand. She wondered how soon he would be leaving. He had just proven he could fare for himself. He had also proven how desperate they were for help here.
A heaviness tugged at her heart as she stood, brushing the straw from her dress. “I’ll go deliver the news to Pa. He’s probably crawling down the path to the stable.”
She was surprised to hear Luke chuckle. So he was capable of laughter, after all.
“Then let me go meet him.” Luke smiled as he trotted out the door.
Suzanne’s heart was full of joy as she looked back at the new colt. She laughed as he searched eagerly for his first meal.
“Suzanne?” Luke called as she reached the door of the barn.
She turned, startled to hear her name on his lips. She hadn’t been sure he even remembered it. She looked up as he came running down the path.
“Your pa has turned his ankle again, and he may have injured his ribs as well.”
“Oh no! I don’t know what I’m going to do with him!”
“Can’t you find another ranch hand? You’ve got to have some help here.” Again that irritable tone had crept back to his voice.
“Good help is hard to come by,” she said, quoting Hank. Pride kept her from admitting the truth: there was no money for extra help. The only way they could survive was to do the work themselves. And even so, she was beginning to wonder how much longer they could hold on.
She looked at Luke and decided to be forthright. “Maybe we could work something out with you.”
He shook his head, looking away. “I have to be on my way soon.”
“Oh well.” She turned her eyes toward the door, trying to conceal her disappointment. “It was just a thought. Anyway, maybe the colt is a good sign,” she called over her shoulder then hurried out.
As she rushed up the path to check on Pa and tell him the good news, she thought again of the sturdy little colt. Sharing something so special had made her realize how lonely she was. She longed to share the joys and tears of life with someone besides her father.
She thought about Luke Thomason, wondering if there was some way they could persuade him to stay on. Even with a bandaged arm, he was far better help than any of the other drifters who hung around the post. He seemed so eager to leave, but maybe, just maybe, he would change his mind.
Luke stared after Suzanne, turning the words she had spoken over and over in his mind. Maybe he had been wrong about her and her pa trying to sucker him into staying. If they were laying a trap for him, she wouldn’t have been so nice about it when he’d said he was leaving. Would she?
He turned back to the little colt, smiling as he reached forward to gently touch him. The last hour had brought a warm and tender feeling to his heart. He was relieved to know he could still have such a feeling.
He sighed, leaning back against the straw, thinking about Suzanne again. With straw in her hair and perspiration on her upper lip, she was as appealing as ever. Her eyes had radiated such tenderness and love for the colt. He closed his eyes, wondering how he would feel if she had looked at him that way.
His eyes snapped open. Well, she wouldn’t. As for trying to snag him for a husband, the rich rancher—Parkinson, was it?—was the one she was after. Why else would someone go all the way to another ranch for a worship service? It surprised him even more that Mr. Waters was accustomed to going with her.
He snorted. Parkinson didn’t have a chance against both of them!
CHAPTER 7
Suzanne had sneaked quietly into the kitchen and removed the tin can from the top shelf of the cupboard. She didn’t want Hank asking any questions. It occurred to her that she was having to sneak around her father a lot lately, but her intentions were good, and for the time being, he needed to be protected.
The tin can served as a bank for their cash. Each time she pulled the can down, it felt lighter and lighter. Today, it practically toppled from her hands. She closed her eyes for a moment, praying she had miscounted yesterday. Surely a couple of bills had been stuck together.
Please, God, she silently prayed as she sucked in her breath and gently eased the lid up. Her hopes sank. Only a few bills nestled in the bottom of the can. She had to think of something! She was no horse trader, but even if she were, Hank had put his foot down. He would hire on as a ranch hand over at Bar X, or mop floors at the trading post before another horse left their pasture.
What alternatives were left? She had never relished the idea of raising pigs or chickens, but she supposed she could learn. And that vegetable garden would have to be a reality now. She could learn anything she put her mind to; besides, what could be so hard about planting seeds in the ground, then watering and weeding?
That simple question prompted a glance out the kitchen window, and she knew there was nothing simple about a vegetable garden.
After much deliberation, she took half the money. She had no choice. The flour and sugar bins were empty, and Pa couldn’t survive without his coffee. She’d grown adept at reusing coffee grounds, but there was no point in trying to serve thin brown water.
She sighed. Somehow, a way would be provided. She heard Luke’s voice from the front porch and prayed he would change his mind about leaving. He was big and strong, obviously a hard worker, and he seemed to know a lot about horses. Two days had passed since they had worked side by side, delivering the colt. He hadn’t mentioned leaving, and she had tiptoed around the subject. Since she had given him the job of feeding the animals, he seemed to take particular delight in his trips down to the stable, checking on Blaze and her colt. He was even offering to ride over the range on his black stallion, but Hank had balked at that.
“Back in my years, I tore open a wound bouncing around in the saddle. You gotta give yoursel
f a couple more days,” he had admonished Luke.
She turned back to the bills crumpled in her palm, and thrust them into her drawstring purse, along with the list she had spent hours devising. Only the bare essentials, and those trimmed even further.
Looping her purse strings over her arm, she headed for the front door. She was grateful that at last Pa had someone with whom to discuss land and horses—his favorite subjects. At least, this had kept him on the porch and off the back of Rocky. The rangy bay prowled his pen restlessly, as eager as his master to be streaking across the back forty. Maybe she’d ask Luke to exercise him tomorrow, if he felt up to it. Her eyes darted from Luke to her father as she stepped onto the porch.
“I’m riding over to the trading post for some supplies,” she announced. “Also, I’m leaving word for Doc Browning to stop by when he makes the route.” She looked at Luke. “It would be a good idea for him to see you too.”
“I’m doing fine. Anyway, I’ll be leaving soon,” he added, looking away.
Those words were like a pinprick in her lungs, deflating all the air. She hadn’t realized how much she had hoped, even depended, on him staying on until Pa was better.
Suzanne glanced at her father, thinking how little he knew about the tin can and its dwindling contents. Still, she was pleased to note that he looked cheerful this morning. His gray hair was neatly combed, his beard trimmed, and those gray eyes, faded by the sun and wind, looked rested.
“Luke tells me the colt’s doing fine,” Hank said.
Suzanne smiled. “Yes, he is.”
She started down the steps and saw, to her amazement, that Nellie was already saddled and waiting. She whirled on Hank, ready to fuss at him.
“Hope you don’t mind,” Luke spoke up. “When your father mentioned you were going into town, I took the liberty of saddling your mare.”
“But your shoulder…?”
“I’m okay,” he said, frowning at her. He seemed to take offense whenever she questioned his health, so she made up her mind never to mention it again.