by Carré White
“What is?”
I slid onto the chair, feeling happier than I could remember. “You may stay here, but you’ll have to take one of the attic rooms. It’s a bit drafty, so you’ll need extra blankets.”
He stared at his hands.
“Sir?”
“That’s kind of you, Willow… but—”
“No, please. You look like you could use some shelter. You don’t want to sleep outside. Let us take care of you.”
“I’ll do whatever I can to repay you, but it might not be till spring.”
“There are still jobs in town, even at this time of year.”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a horse?”
“A mule.”
“You’re more than welcome to leave it in our paddock, if you wish. We can make sure it’s fed and watered.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m sorry you met with misfortune. You do seem awfully somber, sir.”
“I apologize for not being in a more…festive mood. The meal was excellent, Willow. It was truly wonderful.”
“Thank you.” He seemed to wilt before my eyes. “I should show you to your room. Perhaps, after some sleep, your spirits will improve.”
“I reckon they might.”
I got to my feet. “Then follow me. I’ll give you the key.”
Grasping a heavy-looking coat from the back of the chair, he placed a hat on his head. “Lead the way.”
He followed me down the hall towards my father’s office, where I snatched the heavy metal key from a hook on the wall. We took a flight of stairs and then another, until we were on the third floor. Unlocking the door, it revealed a small room with a dormer window.
“I’ll just get Milly to make the bed, sir.” I glanced at him. “Do you have any belongings?”
“They’re with a friend.”
“I’ll be right back.” I hurried from the room, searching for the maid. I found her on the first floor, preparing to take a carpet outside. “Milly! I need a bed made quick. Can you help?”
“I’ve got to get this done before they come back, Miss Brady.”
“Oh, fine, then I’ll do it. Which linens do I use?”
“I’ll show you.”
Once I had an armful of sheets and blankets, I hastened up the stairs, finding the door to Mr. Hindman’s room wide open. “I have them—” What I saw stunned me. He’d removed his hat and coat, having fallen to the bed, where it appeared he was asleep. “Mr. Hindman?” I approached warily, wondering if perhaps he was ill or worse. “Are you asleep?” His eyes were closed over a sallow complexion. “Oh, gracious. I’ll have to come back later.” The room was chilly, as there was nothing between the chamber and the elements other than a wooden roof. “You’ll need this.” I placed the blanket on him, but it was far too thin. “This won’t do at all. You need something with down in it.”
Hurrying to my mother’s private quarters, I snatched a thick down comforter. It needed a cover, but it would have to do. When I returned, I tossed it over him and drew it up to his neck. Then I pulled his boots off, one after the other, leaving them at the foot of the bed. He’d been sullen earlier and downtrodden. It was obvious that he had suffered a great deal in the mountains and that the venture had exhausted him. I felt compelled to move a strand of hair away from his forehead, noting that it was run through with gray now. That hadn’t been there before.
Chapter Eight
Ellen and I worked the rest of the day, only stopping to have dinner with my parents and sister after four o’clock, when we closed the dining room. It was a joyous occasion, but I was exhausted, having been on my feet since early morning. I hadn’t seen Mr. Hindman again, believing him to still be asleep. After everything had been washed and dried, with Milly and Leona helping, I hastened to his room, carrying a bowl and a jug of water with a large towel.
The door remained unlocked, as he had the key, and I opened it an inch, peering inside. The interior was now bathed in shadow. Mr. Hindman continued to sleep; his body had turned to the other side. I would leave these items for him on the dresser before a small mirror. I reached for the curtains by the window, drawing them shut.
“What time is it?”
I gasped, spinning around. “After six.”
“I was out for a while.” His voice had taken on a husky, gritty quality.
“Yes, you were tired. I wanted to make your bed, but you collapsed on it. I brought you some water and a towel.”
He threw his legs over the edge of the mattress, stepping into a boot. When he had them both on, he stood, reaching for his coat. I wasn’t sure where he was going, wondering if perhaps he had changed his mind about staying here.
“Would you like more food, sir? I could bring you a plate.”
He cleared his throat, and I thought he meant to move past me, but he reached out, drawing me close and enfolding me in his arms instead, which was a shock. I hadn’t expected this at all, yet it wasn’t entirely unwelcome.
“Thank you, Willow,” he murmured.
The coarse material of the coat scratched my face, and he needed a bath, but…I let myself soften in the embrace, as his arms tightened around me. “Y-your welcome, sir.”
“Guss. It’s just Guss.”
“Do you want more food?”
“Yes, and where’s the privy?”
I glanced up at him, realizing that he was rather tall. “Down the steps to the left and out the side door. The smell will guide the way from there.”
He grinned, which was heartening. “I don’t doubt it.” When I thought he would let me go, he held me even tighter. “You’re a sweet little thing. You’re why I came back here. Any sane man would’ve gone to Denver City.”
“I’m…I’m glad.” And I was.
“Go fetch that food. I’m fair to starvin’.” His arms fell to his sides, although he reached out to touch my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Nature calls.” He headed for the door.
While he was gone, I quickly made the bed, tucking in the ends of the sheet and sliding on a clean pillowcase. I left the blanket and the heavy comforter folded neatly under. Although I should have been nearly numb with fatigue by now, I hurried to bring another plate of food, along with a pitcher of ice tea. I felt inexplicably energized with the desire to please him and see to his comfort. When I returned, I found him washing his face over the bowl.
“Here you are.”
“Lord, that smells good. I was too darn tired to appreciate most of what I ate earlier, but that won’t happen again.”
“There’s Marlborough Pudding left over too.”
“Not just yet.” He pointed to the glass pitcher in my hands. “Is that tea?”
“It is.”
His smile was expansive. “Blessed be.”
“Where do you wish to eat?”
“I’ll sit in the chair. I don’t want to risk ruining the bed you made so pretty.”
I adored his compliments. “If you need more blankets, please let me know. There’s a horrible draft in here.”
“It feels like paradise.” I handed him the plate, which he accepted with a smile. “Thank you.”
“I-I guess I’ll be going then.”
“Must you leave?”
“I…don’t have to…but…”
“Bring another chair, and join me.”
Not bothering to question his motives or my own, I turned and left the room, finding the one next door unlocked. I stole the chair from there, lifting the heavy item and carrying it over. I placed it next to him, and sat, watching him eat.
“You were hungry.”
“Hum…”
“You look dreadfully thin, sir—Guss. What happened to you?”
“I prepared poorly. I ran out of food, and then I was forced to eat a part of my boots.” I glanced at them. “No, not these. I bought these from a trapper.”
“I can’t imagine leather tastes good.”
“No, but I boiled it as best as I could.”
My mouth hung open. “That’s truly awful.”
“It was.”
“Were you alone?”
“Mostly. I had a map a friend gave me with directions to a creek, which was supposed to gleam with gold. I was never able to locate it.”
“Did you find any at all?”
“Not much. What I brought back, I spent on a coat and boots. I bought a tent too. I guess, if I’m stayin’ here now, I could sell it. Maybe even sell the mule.” He seemed displeased. “That was foolish of me. I never should’ve gone up in them mountains. I have nothin’ to show for my efforts except for starvin’ mightily.”
“What will you do now?”
“I’m stayin’ put till I figure it out.”
A knock startled me, although the door was ajar. “Willow?” Mother appeared; her eyes were wide. “It’s so dark in here. Why don’t you turn up the lamp?” She twisted the brass nob, until it blazed, throwing the corners of the room into shadow, yet illuminating us. I hadn’t minded the gloom, as I thought I looked better in that light. “I didn’t know we were renting these rooms. They’re too cold for company.”
“Are there any available below?”
“No, my dear.” She glanced at Mr. Hindman. “Pardon my rudeness, but are you ill, sir? You’re rather pale.”
“I’ve just come from prospecting. I met with some…misfortune.”
“It looks it. I don’t want you to catch your death in this room. It’s almost uninhabitable at this time of year. The attic is meant for summer, when we have an overflow of guests.”
“I don’t mind. Willow’s brought a nice blanket. I didn’t even notice the chill.”
She eyed the comforter, knowing it was a family item and not meant for the customers. “I see.” Her attention was on me. “Thank you for your efforts today, my dear. The food was wonderful. The turkey was moist and delicious. I’m thrilled there’s meat left over.” She stared expectantly.
I sensed she wanted to talk to me. “I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t worry about me, Willow. I’m fine.” He speared a piece of turkey with a fork, bringing it to his mouth.
Mother led the way into the hallway, which was dark. “I’m waiting to see if he wants a bowl of pudding.”
“I’m not too keen on you having private meetings with a man—a stranger in his room. What on earth are you thinking, Willow?”
I bit my lip. “I left the door open. We’re having a conversation. I wanted to know why he suffered as he did on the mountain.”
“You gave him our good blanket.”
“I…know. I…wanted him to be warm.”
“You’re fond of him.”
A denial would be counterproductive. “I saw him months ago, and he was hearty and cheerful. He’s so downtrodden now. I just wanted to help him.”
“I see.”
“He’s a good man.”
“How do you know? He’s a stranger to us.”
“I’ve been observing people for a long time. All sorts of men have darkened these doorways: the righteous ones, the thieves, the swindlers, the liars, and what have you. I’ve a sixth sense about these things.”
“That’s not what I’m getting at. You shouldn’t be alone with a man in his bedchamber!”
“I’m watching him eat!”
She rolled her eyes. “For pity’s sake. I’m speaking to your father about this.”
I grabbed her arm. “No! I don’t want him sent from here. He’s been gone for so long. Don't send him away. He’s tired and frail. He needs to regain his health.”
Her look froze. “You’re in love with him.”
My head snapped back, as if I had been hit. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Th-that’s ridiculous.”
“Time will prove me correct. I’ve brought you up to be a lady. I trust you will behave accordingly. If you say this is a friendship, then so be it, but leave the door open, if you’re inside with him.” She pointed a finger at me. “I don’t expect to find you here often, Willow. Tonight will be the exception, since I know you’re feeding the man. We don’t allow food in the rooms. It brings bugs in. Please make sure he’s in the dining room tomorrow night. Is that clear?”
Relief washed over me. “Yes. Thank you, Ma.”
“Don’t thank me yet. If your father finds out about this—”
“He won’t.”
“I’ll be waiting for you downstairs. Don’t think I won’t return to make sure you’re safely in your own room.”
“Yes, Ma.”
She smiled warmly. “You’re a good girl. I worried for so long that you’d never find someone—someone you could call your own.”
“You’re reading far too much into this.”
“Perhaps, but…mothers have a sense about things.”
Chapter Nine
Ellen and I were up early, working bread dough and preparing eggs, bacon, and sausages for breakfast, while the heat of the hearth warmed the space. As busy as I was, I had wanted to survey the dining room for Mr. Hindman to say good morning, but, by the time I was able to have a moment, most of the people had gone.
Thinking that perhaps he was in his room, I took to the stairs, passing Milly at the top. She held a bundle of sheets in her arms. “Did you come from the attic?”
“Yes, ma’am, I did.”
“Changing the sheets so soon?”
“He’s gone, Miss Brady. I’ve stripped the bed.”
I gasped, feeling as if someone had punched my belly with a fist. “Gone?”
“Your mother said to clear the room. It’s too cold for company anyhow.”
“Oh, no!” I brushed by her, hurrying down the stairs, running towards my parent’s private quarters, where I flung the door open. “How could you?”
Ma was folding sheets; the bed was piled high with them. “What?”
“You turned him out, didn’t you? You made him leave.” Tears were in my eyes, as a hot, unreasonable anger began to simmer inside of me. “He’s a good man. I tried to tell you that last night. He’s a bit down on his luck right now, but he needed a place to stay!”
“Oh, my goodness, child. Calm down.” She dropped the sheet she had been working on. “He came to me this morning to tell me he’d pay for a room, and I just so happened to have one available. He’s in number twelve now.” She smiled wryly. “You look like you’re about to kill me, Willow. I’ve done nothing wrong here.”
“He’s in room twelve?” The pounding of my heart had yet to subside.
“Yes.”
I usually didn’t react to things in this manner. “I-I’m sorry about that. I…I thought you sent him away.”
“Why would I do that? He only wanted to pay for his lodgings.”
“He must’ve gone out early today to sell the mule.”
“He brought in his things. He’s safely ensconced here, my dear. I’m sure you’ll see him later. I imagine he’s gone to find work.”
I smiled sheepishly. “What you must think of me.”
“I think you’re hopelessly smitten. You’ve got color in your cheeks and a sparkle in your eye. Not only that, but you’re behaving like a possessive mother cat.”
Leona appeared in the doorway. “I’m sorry! I was supposed to help fold.” She reached for a sheet. “What’s happening? Were you having a row?”
“No, darling,” said mother. “Your sister’s finally in love.”
“With Mr. Hindman?” She grasped the opposite end of the linen, folding it.
“What makes you say that?” I sounded somewhat defensive.
“I could see it from the start. Right when you first met. You had a look about you. He’s not unaffected either. I’m sure that’s the only reason he returned to Cripple Creek.”
“Well,” laughed mother. “I suppose the only thing left to do is stand aside and let nature take its course.”
“She’s going to marry before me, I just know it.” Leona grimaced. “How long must Benjamin and I wait?”
“You’re not seventeen yet. You’re too young to know your own mind.”
Her mouth fell open. “That’s utterly insulting. It truly is. I’ll be seventeen in February.”
“Then, once he’s asked for your hand, you may have a year-long engagement and marry at eighteen.” She nodded firmly.
“Oh, that’s dreadful! Truly dreadful! I’m to wait nearly two years?”
“A year and a few months.”
She glared daggers. “I’ll be speaking with pa about this. It’s an injustice anyway you look at it. What do you think, Willow?” She waited for me to reply, although I hadn’t heard a word. “Willow?”
“I do believe her mind is otherwise occupied.” Mother grasped a sheet.
“Ouf! I’ll not wait that long to marry, I tell you.”
“I’m sure you’ll nag and berate us into getting your way. You always do, but marriage is a serious matter. It’s not to be taken lightly, Leona. It’s forever. Do you hear me? Your choice in a partner will follow you to the grave. You must be entirely certain that you’re compatible. It’s not just the passion of your feelings you should consult. It’s far more than that. Do you agree on important things, are your goals closely aligned, how is his temper, is he weak when it comes to gambling or drinking, can you trust him? These are the things you need to think about and more. Can he provide for you? Does he want children sooner or later? Will you get on with his family?”
I’d been listening. “Yes, those things are important.”
Leona pointed an accusing finger at me. “She knows virtually nothing about Mr. Hindman. She’s not allowed to marry him until she’s better acquainted.”
Mother suppressed a smile. “She’s older than you, darling.” She held up a hand. “Ah! Before you shout at me, let me explain. She’s seen a bit more of life, Leona. You know how your sister has suffered. You only have to look at her to understand that. She’s been an observer of things for far too long. She’s been waiting for the right man.”
“That makes no sense.” Leona continued to pout.
“I have to get back to work,” I said. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Leona’s right. I know nothing of Mr. Hindman as of yet. With any luck, I’ll be able to speak with him more now. I’m grateful he didn’t leave. I thought he’d gone.”