My Capricious Cowgirl (Willamette Wives Book 4)

by Maggie Ryan

  "Welcome," a man said, stepping from the doorway. "Good to see you, Matthew."

  "You too, Ben," Matthew said. "This is Mrs. Jefferson and her son, Davy. Sally, this is Benjamin Goldman, a friend, and the owner of this fine establishment."

  "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Jefferson, Davy," Ben said, tipping his head in a polite nod. "Table for three or—"

  "We're supposed to be joining the others," Matthew said.

  Sally looked up at him. "Others?"

  "They're in the kitchen," Ben said, evidently not having heard her question.

  "I-I didn't realize… I mean, please, don't let us keep you from joining your friends. Davy and I can…"

  "Come meet them," Matthew finished for her, offering her his arm.

  "I don't think… they don't know us…"

  "Only one way to remedy that," Matthew said, releasing one of Davy's feet to tuck her hand into the crook of his arm. "I guarantee they don't bite."

  Not comforted by the quip, but unable to think of a suitable protest, she had no choice but to step forward when he started into the adjacent room. It was just as bright and sunny as the foyer and was crowded with people. Several tables were filled, families chatting as they enjoyed a lunch away from their hearths, conversation and occasional laughter filling the space.

  She was forced to stop rather abruptly when Matthew did. He'd just reached for a door when it began to open. "Give me hand, buddy," Matthew said, reaching out to pull it open further, Davy's small hand reaching to do the same as a well-rounded backside pushed against the door. Now opened wide, the young woman turned around, her smile bright.

  "Thank you, kind sirs," she said. Sally watched as she balanced a huge tray full of steaming dishes and filled glasses with what must have been years of experience.

  "Hi, Mr. Stone. Go right on in. The others have already ordered the special. It's meatloaf, mashed potatoes and peas. Fresh yeast rolls and jam are included, of course, and Catherine made a selection of pies."

  "That sounds perfect," Matthew said and then looked down at Sally. "Unless you'd prefer something else?"

  What she'd prefer would be to leave, but she had agreed to having lunch with him. "That sounds delicious," she said, even managing a small smile.

  "Great, just tell Catherine," Barbara said.

  Matthew stepped aside, gesturing for Sally to precede him. Stepping into the large kitchen, Sally saw several people sitting. She felt her stomach tighten as every head turned their way.

  Despite her promise to take a meal with the man, she still might have run if not for two things. First, her son was still seated atop Matthew's shoulders, and second, she felt his hand take hers, giving it a soft squeeze as if to reassure her that everything would be all right.

  "Everyone, this is Mrs. Sally Ferguson, and this young man is Davy." He lifted Davy from his shoulders and placed him in an empty chair across from a small girl with blonde ringlets who had begun bouncing in her chair and waving. She was surprised to see Davy give her a small wave in return. His reaction to the group helped relax Sally just a bit. Realizing Matthew was speaking, she turned her attention to him.

  "These are my friends and partners from the ranch." Though he started naming them and each one smiled and said hello, Sally knew she'd never remember all their names… there were just too many.

  He pulled out a chair next to Davy and she slipped into it. After placing the fishing pole against the wall and hanging his hat on a hook, he took the last remaining chair on Davy's other side. She felt a momentary flash of anxiety at his being so far away and then silently chided herself.

  "Don't panic," the woman with the red hair seated next to her said. "I'm Anna, and no one expects you to remember our names."

  "Thank you," Sally said. "I really didn't wish to intrude on your meal."

  "Don't give it another thought," Anna said. "It's a pleasure to meet you and your son." After a moment, she cocked her head to one side and added, "I know we've just met but you remind me of someone." Before she could continue, her attention was diverted when her son tugged at her sleeve.

  Sally took a deep breath, and relaxed a bit. Anna seemed very friendly and welcoming. She hadn't had the chance to talk to other women for quite a while, and didn't really have to talk now. Listening to the others would give her an idea of the type people Mr. Stone considered his friends, and it was nice to be sitting down to a meal she hadn't had to prepare herself.

  ***

  Matthew knew that Sally was uncomfortable, yet hoped she'd relax as the meal progressed. He watched as she took a few deep breaths and managed a little smile, which he returned. Davy reminded him of a bird, his head turning, tilting slightly as he studied those around him. Though he didn't speak, Matthew knew he wasn't missing anything. Getting his attention, he nodded to the woman across from him. "Mrs. Morrison is the new teacher." He leaned a bit closer and mock-whispered, "I hear she's real nice, too. Can you believe that she has recess for hours and hours?"

  Teresa laughed and corrected him. "It isn't really recess, though it is a lot of fun, Davy. The children and I go into the woods to study plants."

  Matthew huffed and rolled his eyes. "If you ask me, you take them out there to pick the berries you so love. Doesn't sound like any class I had as a boy." The boy's eyes widened just a bit at his chuckle.

  "I hope you come visit us soon, Davy." Teresa paused and shook her head. "If you do, please bring Mr. Stone with you, as it is obvious he could stand another lesson in botany. You'd think as old as he is, he'd know there won't be any berries for another month or so."

  "No berries?" Matthew said, placing his hand over his heart. "But you need berries for pie, and you all know how much I love pie!"

  Teresa laughed and continued the banter. "Perhaps you need a culinary lesson as well. There are lots more fruits to use in a pie. Can you think of one, Davy?"

  Matthew saw the boy shake his head, his tentative smile slipping away. Evidently Teresa had seen it as well. "Good idea. We can keep the answer a secret. Maybe then Mr. Stone will be so curious that he'll make a trip to the school house. If you need to show him the way, it's the red building at the end of the main street. Oh, and when you come, I'll let you ring the bell."

  "Now that's an honor," Roger contributed. "My wife loves that bell so much she named her horse after it, can you imagine?"

  Glad to see the smile had returned to the boy's face, Matthew looked over to see Sally smiling as well. He couldn't think of better people to surround himself with, and hoped that Sally would soon feel as welcome and included as he did. With that thought came the question that he'd left unasked because he realized he was a bit afraid of the answer. Barbara and Catherine's arrival with their orders allowed him to push the question of where exactly Mr. Jefferson was aside once again.

  Any further conversation had to wait as both Barbara and Catherine began plucking steaming plates of food off their trays, setting them down before each person. When Catherine inquired to how her future grandbaby was behaving, the entire table laughed when Wyatt quipped, "He or she is doing just fine, but their ma, well, that's another matter. We'll be going to see the doc after lunch."

  Agatha huffed. "I still don't think that's necessary…"

  "It is," Wyatt countered. "I don't like the fact that your ankles are so swollen."

  "Don't fret, Davy just saw Doctor Williams and he was so good, he earned himself a treat," Matthew said, buttering a roll.

  "What treat?" Sally asked. "Are you talking about the apple, teaching him how to spit seeds, or the new fishing pole?"

  "Nope, the apple was to help make the taste of the cough medicine go away. As for the seeds, haven't you heard of a man named Johnny Appleseed? How do you think all those apple trees got planted?"

  "I'm quite sure the distinguished gentleman didn't spit the seeds into the ground," Sally said, earning what sounded like a soft giggle from the child sitting between them.

  "I'm pretty sure he did," Matthew said. "
Oh, and the pole was because Davy was so very brave yesterday. Nope, the treat he earned for being brave again today was—" His explanation about the gumdrops was interrupted.

  "Shit, don't like peaz."

  Every single head turned to stare at Hope, who was attempting to push away the spoon of peas her mother was attempting to feed her.

  "Hope Blakemore," James said, his eyes wide. "Where on earth did you hear that word?"

  "Oops," Richard said, "I might have let it slip when I was reading Roy's letter at the candy counter…"

  "Candy!" Hope got out before again clamping her lips shut as Charity attempted to place a few of the small green orbs inside her mouth.

  James shook his head. "Good grief, Richard," he said and then addressed his daughter. "That's not a nice word, young lady, and I don't want to hear you say it again. Is that understood?"

  "Green is yummy," Matthew said, putting a large forkful of peas into his mouth. "Right, Davy?"

  Davy, whose mouth had dropped open at hearing the word being shouted, looked to him and nodded, taking his own bite of the vegetable. Everyone watched in amazement as Hope reached for the spoon her ma had set down and lifted it, losing quite a few of the spheres but managing to get a few into her mouth. After swallowing, she grinned.

  "Gween good!"

  "Wow," Richard said, obviously impressed. "Good job, Davy."

  Matthew grinned and ruffled the boy's hair without giving it a thought. Though Sally remained speechless, he saw her eyes widen at the gesture and Davy's proud smile at the praise. Well, nothing like diving into the deep end, Matthew thought, giving her a smile.

  "So what was in the letter that had you swearing? Anything wrong back home?" James asked now that the pending tantrum had been averted.

  "I apologize," Richard said. "Roy just said that there's been a band of storms rolling through."

  Anna had scooped up a spoon of mashed potatoes and had begun to blow across its surface. While she waited for it to cool enough to offer the bite to Johnny, she looked up at Richard. "That's what ma said as well, but before I could read more, Johnny knocked over a cup of coffee and now the ink is all smeared. I don't know if the second page is ruined and I haven't had a chance to check." She paused as she fed Johnny the first bite of their shared meal and took one herself. Placing a small piece of meat on the spoon, she again took time to ensure it wasn't too hot, turning to Sally.

  "I'm sorry. It's not often we receive news from home."

  "Don't apologize," Sally said. "I know how lonely one gets. Missouri is a long way from here."

  "Oh, are you from Missouri?" Anna asked.

  "Yes, but from a small town I'm sure you haven't heard of."

  "It can't be much smaller than our home town," Anna said with a laugh that ended abruptly. "Wait, Clara! That's who you remind me of!"

  "Clara… Clara Cox? From Oakwood?"

  "No… I mean, yes, Clara Cox, but I knew her when she used to live in Crooked Creek. We were in school together and then she didn't come the next fall."

  "That's because she moved," Sally said, her eyes wide. "Clara's my sister. She's five years younger than me. I'd just gotten married and then our pa passed. My husband insisted Ma and Clara move to Oakwood to live with us."

  "That's amazing!" Anna said. "Oh, I hope Oakwood was spared the storms. Ma's letter said something about tornadoes…"

  This time when chaos erupted it wasn't caused by a swear word. Instead, it was Sally shouting Davy's name that had everyone dropping their forks as the little boy practically vaulted from his chair and slammed through the kitchen door.

  "Davy, wait!" Sally yelled, pushing back her chair so hard it tipped over with a crash and caused her to stumble.

  "Sally!" Matthew shouted, rising as well, but Sally had already regained her feet and was rushing to follow her son.

  Anna dropped the spoon of mashed potatoes onto the table's surface as she pushed away from the table as well. Standing, she moved to step around the fallen chair.

  "Anna, wait," Richard said, standing and reaching for her.

  "Oh, God, what did I say?" Anna said, attempting to tug her arm free.

  "Anna, be still," Richard said, pulling her to him.

  "Johnny!"

  Turning back to the table, Richard saw his son heaving himself out of his chair and on to the table's surface. Before he could reach him, the toddler had not only knocked over two water glasses, he'd planted both hands in his ma's plate. Oblivious of the confusion, he then sat back on his well-padded behind and began to shove fingers covered in mashed potatoes, meatloaf and gravy into his mouth.

  "Shit," Richard mumbled, reaching for his son and a napkin at the same time.

  Matthew was aware of the conversation going on but was already at the door. Whatever had spooked Davy had turned his face the color of snow, his blue eyes growing wider and wider until he'd exploded from his chair. The poor boy had looked absolutely terrified… even more so than he'd appeared when in the river the day before. Slapping the door open, he didn't even stop to apologize to Barbara as she was about to enter. He had only one goal in mind, and that was to find Sally and Davy and figure out what the hell was going on.

  Chapter Seven

  Once again, it was King who took him to Sally. He'd started down the street only to hear a woof. Turning, he'd seen King standing in the street. The moment Matthew reversed directions and began to walk towards the dog, King had dashed into what Matthew knew was a small alley between two buildings. Quickening his steps, he was soon making the same turn. He continued to walk until he came to the back of the building and heard a sound that almost stopped him in his tracks. He'd expected to hear crying, or even Sally's voice issuing reassurances. What he hadn't expected to hear was singing. A few more strides took him to where Sally was seated in the dirt, her back pressed against the building, Davy curled up on her lap. She was stroking her hand through his hair, holding him close to her chest, and gently rocking him as she sang what he thought was some sort of lullaby.

  He moved quietly and then sank down beside her, not yet speaking, allowing the mother to do what she thought best for her child. When King curled up between them, putting his head on Matthew's thigh, he felt a sense of belonging that he'd never experienced before in his entire life. Running his hand through the dog's fur, he knew that whatever happened, whatever this little family needed, he'd do everything in his power to help.

  It was several minutes before Sally's singing ended. She'd sung one song after another until, finally, she pressed her lips to Davy's head and stopped. Matthew was surprised at how much he missed the notes when the last one drifted away on the air. "It's all right, Davy," he heard her whisper. "I promise, it's all going to be all right. We've come so far together and… and we're still to-together, right? No matter what… I'm here… I'm not leaving you… I promise."

  Her words hitched with emotion, and though Matthew was still ignorant of the cause of the boy's flight, he suddenly had a good idea. The last words spoken before he'd run had been Anna speaking about the storms… no, the tornadoes in Missouri. Having experienced the force of such storms himself, he could well understand how they could terrorize a small child. However, something told him that this little boy had been traumatized by more than just a storm, no matter how strong it might have been.

  "Your ma's right, buddy," Matthew said, keeping his voice low. "I know you were scared but she's right here with you and so am I. You are safe."

  The little group sat for a half-hour, no further words spoken, but gradually, Davy pushed away, rubbing his fists into his eyes. When he dropped his hands, he looked between the two.

  "That's it," Matthew said. "There's that brave boy we know."

  "Better?" Sally asked, and at his small nod, bent to kiss his forehead. "I love you, little man." King added his own love by giving Davy's cheek a long lick, causing the boy to both pull away and give a fleeting grin.

  Though Matthew had a thousand questions, this wasn't the time nor pl
ace to be asking them. Hearing a soft rumble, he grinned. "Someone is hungry," he said.

  "Oh, I don't think—"

  "I promised you lunch and I never break my promises," Matthew said, standing and dusting off the seat of his pants. "Trust me?" At her hesitant nod, he offered her his hand, pulling her to her feet. Instead of separating Davy from his ma, Matthew took one hand and she kept hold of the other. Matthew led them behind the buildings, back the way they'd come. Once he reached the restaurant, he felt the little boy pull away.

  "Can you stay here and keep your ma safe?" Matthew asked, releasing his hand and dropping to squat beside the boy. "I'll be right back, I promise."

  Davy pressed closer to Sally's legs but nodded.

  Matthew stood, gave Sally a reassuring look, and then opened the side door that he knew led into the kitchen. Catherine greeted him.

  "Is the little one all right?"

  "I'm not really sure," Matthew said honestly. "Whatever happened has a tight hold on him."

  "Tragedy often does," Catherine said softly. "I hoped you'd be back. I've taken the liberty of packing a basket. I thought perhaps a picnic… I don't know…"

  "A picnic is a great idea," Matthew said, giving the woman a hug. "Where did everyone go?"

  "They moved upstairs," Roger answered. He and Teresa were the only ones still seated at the table. "Anna feels just awful."

  "Please tell her she shouldn't," Matthew said. "She had no idea. Hell, I didn't even know that Sally is from Missouri, and what are the odds she's from the same place as Anna?"

  "Did you learn what happened to Davy's pa?" Teresa asked.

  "No, but my gut's telling me it wasn't good," Matthew said.

  "Look, there's a pretty little spot a few yards into the woods behind the school house," Roger said. "There's a creek and a perfect place for a picnic. Go there. And, Matt, no matter how hard it is, it is better to face the truth than to run from it. I guarantee that running never does anything except exhaust you. Perhaps that's what that boy's been doing. Running every time, hoping one day he'll be fast enough, but he never will. Better he face the truth and start to truly heal."