“I was hoping he’d get that all out of his system before coming home, Sophie-girl,” Chester said.
“It makes no difference to me,” she said, carrying dishes to the sink.
“Yes, it does.”
The legs of his chair scraped the floor, but she didn’t turn around or respond.
“But either way, this here is your home. Nothing and nobody will change that.”
Sophie stacked the dishes on the counter, giving her something to do as Chester walked out of the room. The front door hadn’t opened yet, so Welles hadn’t left, and not wanting to hear what might be said between the two of them, she crossed the room and hurried up the stairs.
The closing of the front door echoed up the stairway as she reached the top, and needing to focus on something else, she knocked on the door of the room she’d given to Annie.
“It’s me, Sophie.”
“Come in.”
Annie sat in a chair beside the bed, nursing Isaac beneath a blanket she’d draped over her shoulder.
“I was just wondering if I should keep some stew warm for you,” Sophie said, closing the door behind her. Now that Welles was gone, Chester would have more to say, and she was in no hurry to hear it.
“Oh, no, thank you. I had plenty before Isaac awoke, but I’ll be down shortly to clean the kitchen.”
“That’s not necessary. You’re a guest,” Sophie said.
“But it is,” Annie replied, rubbing Isaac’s bottom through the blanket. “It’s the least I can do.” A shameful expression covered her face as she added, “It’s the only way I can repay your kindness.”
Sophie sat down on the bed. At the hotel, Annie had agreed to come stay at the house because she didn’t have the money to pay for a hotel room. Sophie hadn’t questioned why, but now asked, “Where’s Isaac’s father?”
A serene smile filled Annie’s face. “In Denver. We’d tried homesteading a piece of land in Kansas, but too many things went wrong. Daniel saw advertisements in a Denver newspaper and wrote to one of them. They offered him a job, but he had to arrive immediately. I couldn’t go with him because I was too far along with Isaac, so I stayed with the neighbors until Daniel sent the money for the train fare so we could to join him. I’d packed plenty of food for myself, but had to leave it on the train.” She shook her head. “I know he’ll be worried when we don’t arrive as scheduled, but I don’t even have the money to send him a wire.”
“Don’t worry. Frank Green, he’s the depot agent, will wire the other depots of the train mishap,” Sophie said. “How long have you been separated?”
“Three months, but it feels like years.” Annie removed the blanket enough to hoist Isaac onto her shoulder and began patting his back. “I can’t wait for Daniel to see Isaac. He was so certain I would have a boy.”
“May I?” Sophie asked, holding out her hands.
Annie’s face brightened. “He might spit up.”
“I won’t mind,” Sophie said.
An odd sensation spread through her body as she took the infant and propped him against her shoulder as Annie had been doing. He smelled so sweet and special, and as he nestled his head against her neck, Sophie closed her eyes, totally consumed by the tiny little life she held. How wonderful it must be to have a child. Someone to love fully and completely. That was what she’d dreamed of, and all she truly wanted, but it seemed to be more elusive than ever.
“When I opened the door this morning, I knew you were the miracle I’d prayed for,” Annie said. “The men at the hotel were saying it could be three days or more before the train could leave for Denver. There’s just no way I could stay there that long, not without any money.”
“I’m not a miracle,” Sophie said, “and don’t worry about money. You can stay with us as long as you need.”
“Mr. Carmichael had introduced himself to me on the train, but I certainly don’t know him well enough to impose upon his family. Are you his sister?”
“No, and you aren’t imposing.”
“And I don’t want to be.” Annie stood up and laid the folded baby blanket on the bed. “I’ll work for our keep. Just tell me what you need done, and I’ll do it.”
Chapter Six
The afternoon had gone by quickly, in some ways. In others, it had dragged into one of the longest Sophie had ever known. She’d found a basket for Isaac to lie in while she and Annie cleaned the kitchen and then washed his soiled diapers, visited with Chester and prepared the evening meal. In that entire time, Welles had not returned.
Not to the house. The snow that had continued to fall all day covered any tracks, making it impossible to know if he was in the barn or not. She didn’t want to encounter him, but the horses needed their evening feeding. Leaving Annie to keep an eye on supper, Sophie changed into her work clothes, bundled up and headed out to the barn.
The pathway Welles had shoveled this morning was completely filled in, which said he most likely hadn’t been back, and once again that filled her with mixed emotions. She’d imagined him coming home for years. Truth was, her imagination had gotten away from her over the years. She’d imagined Welles coming home to stay. As a respected man who would see how well she’d taken care of Chester and the livery and would want to marry her.
That couldn’t even be considered a pipe dream. It was nothing more than a silly girl’s daydreaming getting way out of hand. Just like it had years ago, when she used to dream of Welles marrying her. Before he’d run off with a saloon girl and became a gambler.
Memories of her mother’s words echoed as she trudged the last few steps to the livery door. Never trust a gambler. They’ll trick the love out of your heart as quickly as they do money out of another man’s pockets.
The lit lanterns had Sophie considering closing the door before she’d opened it all the way, but Welles had already seen her, and she him.
“I’ve already fed them,” he said.
She stepped inside and closed the door. He stood on the other side of the sleigh, so she walked toward the horses on this side first.
“While you’re checking, you should remember I’m the one who taught you how to feed.”
She didn’t acknowledge she’d heard him in any way.
“So now you know the truth,” he said. “I’m a gambler.”
Sophie drew a breath to hold her composure as she walked around Ben to check his grain trough.
“You’ve known gamblers your entire life. Why should one more matter?”
Something inside her snapped. Spinning around, she marched back to the sleigh. “It’s you it should matter to.”
He shrugged. “Why? Gambling’s been good to me. Gramps would never have the amount of money he has in the bank if not for my gambling. Me, either.”
“And that’s all that matters? Money?” She grasped the edge of the sleigh with both hands. “I thought you were smarter than that. Haven’t you heard a fool and his money are soon parted?”
“But I’m no fool,” he said.
This would be so much easier if she hadn’t fallen in love with him all those years ago. Life would have been so much easier. Realizing that was exactly what had happened and that she’d have to stop daydreaming about a life with him, the anger seeped out of her. “Perhaps not.” She released the hold she had on the sleigh. “But I am.”
He shot around the rig, blocking her pathway to the door. “No, you’re not. Why would you say that?”
She shook her head, feeling little more than pity for herself. “Because it’s true. I’ve stayed around this town, thinking, waiting—” She bit her lips together before the entire truth escaped.
“Waiting for what?”
She had to face the truth before she could figure out what to do about it. “For you to return.”
“Why?”
Not able to face him, she glanced around, looking for som
ething to catch and hold her gaze.
“So you wouldn’t have to take care of Chester,” he said quietly. “Wouldn’t have to take care of the livery. So you could start living your own life. I’m sorry, Sophie. I never expected you to cover for me.”
If that was what he thought, what he believed, then so be it. It was better than him knowing the truth. He’d taken a step back, and she used the space as an escape route.
* * *
Welles kept his hands at his sides. It would be easy to grab her arm, to stop her from slipping out the door, but it wouldn’t change a thing. He was a fool. Why hadn’t he taken that into consideration? Just this morning both Jud and Suzanne had said how several men had attempted to court Sophie, but how Gramps had kept every one of them at bay as strongly as Lola had kept everyone away from Sophie. Back then, before he’d left, there wasn’t a man for miles around who didn’t know exactly what would happen to them if they crossed the barrier Lola had put up around her daughter.
Including him, which was exactly why he’d left before that had happened.
He should never have come home, either. Sending livestock and money had been a good plan. One he should have stuck to. The game in Denver had been an excuse. He’d paid his buy-in as soon as he’d heard about it because it would give him a reason to travel through Big Springs.
Yes, he’d missed Gramps, but more so, it had gotten to the point where he’d needed to know what had become of Sophie. All sorts of scenarios had played out in his mind over the years. That she’d gone east, or that she’d married a local man, even had a couple of children by now, or that she’d joined her mother’s business. That one had never taken root because he’d known her, and Lola, too well to believe it.
Never once, in any of his letters home, had he asked Gramps about her. Partially because he didn’t want to be interested, or to let anyone know he was, but mainly because he thought not knowing was best. That with enough time, he’d learn to forget he’d ever known her.
That may have been the biggest of all the lies he’d told himself.
That had also been the reason he’d never stayed in one place long enough for a letter from Gramps to reach him. He’d traveled from the Mexican border to the Canadian one, but had never stepped foot in Colorado since leaving. Thought that would make him immune.
Spinning around, he took in another long look of the livery. He’d wanted her to hate him, so why did it hurt? He was such a fool, and didn’t blame her for hating him. He was the reason she couldn’t get on with her life. She was too busy taking care of Gramps and the livery. Although he’d been hiding it for years, he knew what that felt like. Not having a home of his own, or a family to return to each night, wasn’t as grandiose, as wonderful, as he kept trying to make himself believe.
Gramps was right. Just like Jud, it was time for him to become a respectable man. Accept his responsibilities. The first of those needed to be to release Sophie from her responsibilities here. And from his heart.
Welles blew out the lanterns and stood in the dark silence for several minutes, wondering if he’d be better off to just leave.
He might be, but that wouldn’t solve anything for anyone. Pushing the dead air out of his lungs, he left the livery.
The house was warm and the smell of food inviting, yet the icy glares he received from Gramps and Sophie let him know just how welcomed he was.
Annie grinned as she hurried toward the table.
When he realized the basket she lifted off the chair he’d sat in for lunch held the baby, he said, “Leave him there. There’s another chair in the parlor. I’ll get it so you can sit beside him.”
The meal proceeded as usual, to Chester’s preferences, little conversation other than asking for dishes to be passed back and forth. Except for the baby in the basket. He made all sorts of cute little sounds. They made Welles smile, or maybe it was how Sophie kept glancing into the basket that was situated between her and Annie and smiling.
Either way, Welles couldn’t keep his eyes from roaming to her and that basket. She’d enjoy having children, and considering the years she’d spent with Chester, she’d certainly know how to take care of them. Gramps was loving and kind, when he wanted to be, but most of the time he was on the ornery side, and selfish, which would explain why he’d kept every suitor Sophie may have had at bay.
She didn’t deserve that, and she shouldn’t be the one taking care of Gramps. He should be, whether the task was pleasurable or not.
When the meal ended, Welles carried the chair back into the parlor and set it next to the table covered with leather and tools. He waited there, and for Chester to set his cup of coffee on the table, sit down and hook his cane on the edge of the table.
Welles then crossed the room, added a log to the parlor stove, and then carried the rocking chair from there to the table.
Gramps looked at him expectantly.
The women were chatting in the kitchen, and knowing how small the house was, Welles kept his voice low as he sat down in the rocker. “We need to talk.”
“’Bout time,” Gramps said. “Every time I asked a question, you took off.”
Welles gave a nod, accepting he had, yet said, “A talk about Sophie.”
“What about her?”
“Why have you kept her here?”
“I already told you she didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Four years ago,” Welles pointed out. “Most women her age are married, with a baby or two.”
Gramps sat back in his chair and scratched his chin. “Is that what you want? Her to be married with babies?”
“It’s not about what I want. It’s about what she wants.”
“Has she told you that’s what she wants?”
“No, bu—”
“Me, either.”
Welles stopped a frustrated sigh from escaping. “Have you asked her?”
Gramps reached for his coffee cup and took a drink before saying, “No need to. She lets me know when she wants something. Or just goes and buys it herself.”
The moment of silence coming from the other room had Welles leaning closer. “Well, she can’t go buy a husband, now, can she?”
“Ain’t no man around here worthy of being her husband.”
“From what I’ve been told, you’ve stopped any man from courting her before getting the chance to learn if they’re worthy or not.”
“Who told you that?”
“It doesn’t matter who. The fact is it’s true, isn’t it?”
“If Sophie had wanted one of those men to court her, she’d have told me.”
“And you’d still have stopped it.”
Welles may not have seen the glare Gramps leveled on him in years, but he knew it well. Steam might spout out of the old man’s ears at any moment, and a tongue-lashing was about to erupt.
“That’s not fair to her,” Welles said before Gramps had a chance to speak.
To his surprise, Gramps didn’t erupt. Instead, he took another drink of coffee, set his cup back down and then leaned back in his chair before he said, “You’ve been gone a long time, and have no idea what that gal has been through. You don’t know what she wants, either. How could you, when you don’t even know what you want yourself? You’ve been chasing it for five years, and from the way it sounds, aren’t done doing that.”
Welles accepted that, but felt the need to justify it, as well. “I am done. I’ll be back as soon as the game in Denver is over. Back for good.”
Gramps shook his head. “If you were done, you wouldn’t need to go to Denver.”
“I’ve already paid the buy-in,” Welles argued. “It was a thousand dollars. It would be foolish to lose that amount of money for no reason.”
“Is it in your pocket?” Gramps asked while unhooking his cane from the table.
“Is what?”
G
ramps stood and picked up his coffee cup. “The thousand dollars?”
“No. I said—”
“Then you’ve already lost it.”
“No, I haven’t. I have a chance to win ten times that amount. A hundred times that amount.” Even as he said the words, Welles fully understood what Gramps was saying. He’d been taking a chance by staying away and not coming home. It had all been a gamble. And he’d lost.
“Doc said there was a chance I’d walk without a limp.” Gramps leveled a solid stare on him before turning about. As he started walking toward the kitchen, he added, “When are you going to learn that sometimes we have to play the hand we’ve been dealt?”
Chapter Seven
“That sun is getting downright hot,” Jud said, scooping up another shovel full of snow and flinging it off to the side.
“Freezing one day, sweating the next,” Sawyer said, shoveling on the other side of the tracks. “Wouldn’t surprise me to see it thundering and lightning tonight.”
Laughing, others agreed as their shovels kept moving snow. Despite the backbreaking work of digging out the train, something they’d already been doing for hours, the entire group of men was in good humor. Welles had no doubt they’d remain that way all day. Working, laughing and joking around with each other. That was how it had always been.
The heat of the sun promised to hang around, and was needed to help melt away the ice that had built up under the snow. If they were lucky, by this afternoon the horses would be able to pull the train far enough backward that, with a hot fire roaring in her belly, the engine would have enough steam to get uphill and then onward into Big Springs.
By tomorrow, it would be rolling onto Denver. None too soon. He’d be on it, and as soon as he won a solid stake, he’d be rolling back into Big Springs. To stay. He understood what Gramps said, and he was playing the hand he’d been dealt. The chance of winning big was there, and he’d take it, get it and then bring that money back here, settle down and take over running the livery. Let Sophie marry some fella of her choosing while he took care of the old codger and the horses, and the house and everything else she’d been taking care of the past four years.
A Western Christmas Homecoming: Christmas Day Wedding Bells ; Snowbound in Big Springs ; Christmas with the Outlaw Page 14