Lucky Creek Lady

by Shirley Kennedy

  “My, how exciting. Did you lasso cows and that sort of thing?”

  “I learned a lot about lassoing cows,” he replied with a touch of amusement. At least he didn’t look disturbed like he had when she mentioned the coal mine. “I learned a lot about a lot of things.”

  He didn’t elaborate, and she wisely chose not to pursue the subject. When he asked about her life in Philadelphia, she spent little time describing it. He’d be little impressed with the party-filled, frivolous life she’d led. And of course, she didn’t care to discuss her romance with Brandon Cooper. Darcy had already made clear he wasn’t much impressed with a man who collected insects for a living, whether they were rare or not.

  After dinner, as they arose from the table, he remarked, “Are you sure you want to return to the clinic? I’d be happy to get you a room here. Your own room, of course.”

  He’d made her feel so comfortable, she hadn’t given a thought that he’d attempt anything improper. “That’s very kind of you, but I want to get back to Maryanne.”

  “Of course, I understand.”

  Under a bright moon, he drove her back the clinic. After bringing the carriage to a halt, he sprang down, went around the carriage, and offered his hand. How gentlemanly. A courteous and thoughtful gesture, even though she was quite capable of climbing from the carriage by herself. Her opinion of Darcy McKenna had risen to a height she never thought possible, but how could it not? He’d saved Maryanne. Without him, her niece could very well be dead by now. On that perilous drive to Hangtown he’d displayed such skill and good judgment she couldn’t help but be impressed. And on top of all that, he’d just bought her one of the best dinners she’d ever eaten. Gratitude overwhelmed her. Words wouldn’t be enough. In a gesture so spontaneous she surprised herself, she raised to her tiptoes and firmly placed her hands on either side of his head. Pulling him toward her, she firmly planted a kiss full on his lips. Not just a quick kiss but longer, several seconds at least. “Thank you, Mr. McKenna,” she said when she finally broke away. “Words alone wouldn’t do. I’m so truly grateful for all you did that I had to kiss you. I hope you don’t mind.”

  At first, he displayed no reaction, just stood there and let her kiss him. Was he stunned? Displeased at such an intimacy? She’d never done such a thing before, had never been so forward. Maybe now he’d think she was some sort of wanton woman. How embarrassing. From now on, she must control all such impulses.

  In the moonlight, she saw he was smiling, and before she could quite comprehend what was happening, his big hands clamped her face and he’d bent forward, capturing her mouth in a kiss that seemed like he wanted to devour her. A slow burn of desire curled through her as slowly he slid his hands down her arms, around to her back, and pulled her hard against his body, the warm pressure of his lips pressing against hers all the while. She was just settling closer into his embrace when, with a shuddering gasp, he pulled away, stepped back, and drew in a shaking breath. “I don’t mind at all, Miss Sinclair. My pleasure.”

  He’d released her so suddenly that for one stunning moment, she hardly knew what hit her. One minute she’d been expressing her gratitude; the next, Darcy McKenna, the man she’d intensely disliked, had stirred such heat within her she hadn’t wanted him to stop. For one insane second she considered flinging herself into his arms again. But not a good idea. This was neither the time, nor the place, nor, God help her, the man. She steadied herself and took a deep breath. “Well, Mr. McKenna, I had better get inside. I assume you’ll be back in the morning?” Her voice came out normal, and for that she was grateful.

  “I will indeed be back in the morning,” he replied in a serious voice. “And by the way, you might want to consider calling me Darcy, considering we’ve just got better acquainted.”

  She wasn’t sure if he was teasing her or not, but at any rate he had a good idea. “I shall do that, and you might consider calling me Laurie, considering, as you say, we know each other better now.”

  “I’ll do that. Good night, Laurie.”

  “Good night, Darcy.” She turned and walked into the clinic, head held high, and at a dignified pace. Not easy to do when her knees still slightly wobbled and her pulse had yet to return to normal. Don’t forget, you love Brandon Cooper, she reminded herself as she walked through the clinic’s front door.

  Chapter 10

  Darcy had always prided himself on not only being well organized but on being a straight-thinking man with a purpose, a man who always knew exactly where he was going and what he was going to do.

  So, what had happened tonight? Driving back to the hotel, he kept asking himself why he had kissed Laurie Sinclair, and it wasn’t because she’d kissed him first. That was nothing more than a gratitude kiss. He could easily have returned it with a polite thank you and let it go at that. So, what had possessed him to go for that second kiss? Maybe the time to be honest with himself had arrived. No more pretending he didn’t know the answer and hadn’t noticed the spike of heat that caught him low in the gut, set off by the mere touch of her hands on his cheeks. The trouble was, she might be vain, shallow, frivolous, and more, but every time he saw her, his pulse leaped, and he’d had to be extra careful to keep a laid-back expression on his face.

  Sam Sinclair had been a good friend, a man he admired and respected. After Sam’s death, Darcy had gone out of his way to help the family. Of course, he had done so in honor of his good friend, but that wasn’t the only reason, and it was time he stopped fooling himself. He’d been finding excuses to see more of Laurie. Like today. At least a dozen pressing matters awaited him at the Monarch and his own mine, the Atlas, yet he’d chosen to drive over that god-awful road to save a little girl who otherwise would surely have died. Yeah, noble and all that, but the truth was he’d jumped at the chance to spend time with Laurie Sinclair.

  Why? He already had a woman in his life. Lucille Wagner filled his needs in more ways than one. A lovely woman, and yet… She wasn’t Laurie. Only she could have caused that rush of desire that clawed and clutched at his insides and drove him to take her into his arms and kiss her back. How he’d managed to break away, he didn’t know, except—he chuckled to himself—maybe deep in his brain he’d figured out that ravishing Miss Laurie Sinclair on the main street of Hangtown might not be such a good idea.

  She made him laugh without trying to be funny. Lasso cows? She’d lived such a sheltered existence she could have no way of knowing the kind of life he’d led. He’d told her about the coal mine but not the rest of it. Not how he’d left home when he was twelve. He couldn’t say he’d run away because that would give the impression his parents would have searched for him and wanted him back. Nobody gave a damn when he left. He’d never seen his parents again, but he’d wager they’d rejoiced upon finding they had one less mouth to feed.

  He pretty much lived off the land as he made his way across the country, not sure where he was going or what he would do. By the time he got to Wyoming, he was barely surviving, a skinny, half-starved kid, ragged, dirty, too weary to go on, and wondering why he would want to. And thinking he was worthless and had no future. What did he know other than to sit deep in a mine and pick off bad pieces of coal? He’d never been to school. Didn’t know how to read, write, or add two numbers together. Had no idea what it was like to love and be loved. Not that he blamed Mum and Dad. It was all they could do to feed their family and stay alive.

  He was sitting in an alley in Jeffrey City, Wyoming, starving and shivering from the cold when an old rancher found him and changed his life. Ned Grimes owned a cattle ranch close to the Sweetwater River. That day in the alley, his first words to Darcy were, “Why are you sitting in this alley, son?”

  Darcy looked up to see a wrinkled old face, leathered from the sun, and two faded grey eyes peering down at him. “Why do you think I’m sitting in this alley?” was his smart-aleck answer. Back then he said what he pleased and had never heard of good manne
rs.

  “Because you’re cold and you’re hungry.” The old man didn’t leave. He regarded Darcy intently. His eyes might be aged and faded but they brimmed with kindness and sharp curiosity. “Come along, you need to get out of the cold. I’ll buy you a meal.”

  And that was the start of a life Darcy had never known before. Never even knew it existed. The rancher took Darcy home to his ranch and put him to work. But that wasn’t all he did. Ned Grimes might look like just another rancher, nothing more on his mind than the price of feed or birthing a calf. He’d been married once, but his beloved Nellie had died five years before, and he never gave a thought to replacing her. Instead, he had more than enough to keep him busy. Aside from running his cattle ranch, he maintained a garden and a glass greenhouse where he grew orchids and citrus trees. He read a lot and had more books in his house than Darcy had seen in his lifetime. Books everywhere, not only in the shelf-lined library, but stacked in Ned’s bedroom, piled in the dining room and every corner of his sprawling ranch house.

  “What do you have so many books for?” Darcy asked the day he arrived.

  “Knowledge is books and books are knowledge,” Ned had replied, adding, “You’re welcome to read any of ’em.”

  “Thanks. I just might.” He was lying. All his life Darcy had been ashamed he couldn’t read. He couldn’t bring himself to admit it until one day Ned squinted while trying to read a label. “Dang, but the print’s too small. Read it for me, boy.”

  Only then was Darcy forced to admit he’d never learned to read. Sensing his shame, Ned made light of it. “There’s nothing to learning your letters. I’ll have you reading in no time.”

  Ned stayed true to his word, and once Darcy got the hang of it, if he wasn’t working, he had his nose in a book. He devoured books on history, astronomy, economics, botany, as well as the works of Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, and pretty much everything he could get his hands on. Learning to read was like entering a world he’d never known before. Delighted, Ned urged him on. “A man can never get too much knowledge in his head.”

  Ned taught him other things, too, like manners, of which Darcy had none.

  “You don’t cram food in your mouth like you haven’t eaten for a month, and you don’t gulp your milk down, neither. And you don’t just dig in. You’ve got to look casual, like you’re really not hungry and don’t care if you eat or not.”

  He was relentless. “Put that fork down. You wait till everyone’s seated at the table afore you start to eat, and then you can begin.”

  There were times when Darcy resented all the nagging and thought he’d run away, but never for long. He’d grown to love that old man, the only person in the world who’d ever given a damn about him. By the time he reached eighteen, he could ride a horse like he was glued to the saddle. He knew as much as Ned about the year-round care of cows and bulls, and the best way to produce calves to raise and sell. That wasn’t all. Thanks to Ned, he’d learned running a cattle ranch involved much more. “Ranchers have got to be stewards of the land, son. They’ve got to care for soils, grasses, plants, water and wildlife. A successful rancher doesn’t just herd cattle. He’s wears many hats. Cowboy, herdsman, businessman, land manager, financial manager and a heap more.”

  Ned’s ranch bordered the Sweetwater River. Not long after Darcy turned twenty, word came that gold had been discovered higher up along the Sweetwater. “By golly, we’d better go take a look,” Ned said when he heard. Bringing wide, shallow pans, he and Darcy rode to the river, waded in knee deep, and started panning. Within an hour, Darcy caught sight of something gleaming in the bottom of his pan. Gold! They later found it had washed downstream from the Wind River Mountain Range. After that, they found gold whenever they panned for it. They weren’t making a fortune, but enough that they returned to the river whenever they could.

  One sunny afternoon in May, Darcy and Ned were panning for gold in the river when Ned stood straight and cocked his head. “What’s wrong?” Darcy asked.

  “Dunno.” Ned stood listening a few seconds more. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Quickly they waded from the water. Darcy had just put a foot on the shore when at least a dozen Indians on horseback came at them through a thick grove of trees with blood-curdling shrieks, lances held high, war paint on their faces.

  “Arapahos!” Ned yelled. “Run, Darcy, run!”

  Darcy didn’t need to be told twice. Stories had already reached them about parties of gold prospectors being attacked and robbed farther up the river. The Sioux were mostly responsible, but the Arapaho also had a hand in it. They were the worst, murdering their victims and scalping them, too. He sprinted to his horse, leaped on, got away, and headed for home. Once, looking back, he expected a dozen Indians to be hot on his tail, but they hadn’t followed. When he got to the ranch house, he ran inside and grabbed Ned’s rifle. Back outside, he recruited two of the ranch hands, making sure they were armed.

  What had happened to Ned? Darcy wasn’t much for praying, but starting back to the river, he sent up a prayer that he’d got away. The feeling in his gut told him he hadn’t, though. All was silent as they approached the river. Ned’s horse still stood tethered to a tree. The Indians had gone. To his dying day, Darcy would never forget the sight of Ned’s lifeless body lying by the river, a lance piercing his chest. And he’d been scalped.

  In his will, Ned left everything to Darcy. For a while, Darcy tried to convince himself he should stay on, which was what Ned, in his thoughtful generosity, had intended. The ranch was his. If he stayed, he’d be set for life. Only he couldn’t stay. When the Arapaho took Ned Grimes’s life, they took the only person in the world he’d ever loved, and who loved him. Every time he walked through the ranch house, memories of his friend sent an agonizing wave of grief coursing through him. He knew there was no changing the past, and he also knew as long as he stayed in the ranch house, he’d never get over his grief for the only man in the world who ever gave a damn about him.

  It was time to move on. He sold the ranch and headed west. Later on, he realized he’d made the right decision. Not a day went by that he didn’t think of Ned Grimes, but at least he’d got past the terrible grief, and when he thought of Ned, he thought of all the good times they’d had, and all the good things that old man had done for him.

  * * * *

  Laurie spent the night at her niece’s bedside. By morning, Maryanne’s fever had broken, and the swelling in her neck had gone down. She made a fuss over the strange tube protruding from her throat and kept trying to pull it out. Seeing how much better she was, the doctor removed it, remarking, “She doesn’t need it now, but she’ll always have a little scar, I’m afraid.”

  “A small price to pay,” Laurie replied gratefully. The doctor said they could go home. Laurie could hardly wait. With a joyful heart, she held her little niece in her arms as Darcy drove them back to Lucky Creek. Even when they crossed the rickety bridge beneath the waterfall, she felt no fear but pointed to a grassy spot by the stream and remarked, “That would be a lovely spot for a picnic.”

  When Darcy pulled to a stop in front of the house, Mother and Ada burst through the front door. Expressions of astonishment, soon followed by vast relief, covered their faces when they saw Maryanne breathing normally again, the desperation gone from her eyes. Seeing her bandaged throat, Mother asked, “So she had the tracheotomy?”

  “She did, and it saved her life,” Laurie replied.

  Mother bit her lip in chagrin. “I was wrong, and I apologize. You saved Maryanne’s life, and I’m eternally grateful. I’ll never question your judgment again.”

  “We were wrong,” Ada chimed in. “I’m so glad you didn’t listen to us.”

  While Darcy took care of the horse and carriage, Laurie carried Maryanne upstairs to Hugh’s room. Still in bed, he beamed when he saw them. “So, she’s going to be all right then?”

  “Yes, thanks to D
arcy McKenna. Wait till you hear what we went through.” Laurie described the urgent trip to Hangtown and how fortunate they were that everything had gone so right. That meant everything from not having a mishap on the perilous road to Hangtown, to their luck that the doctor had been in the clinic when they arrived. “The doctor performed the surgery without delay. She’ll always have a little scar on her throat, but the important thing is she’s beaten that awful diphtheria and is going to live.”

  After a thoughtful moment, Hugh replied, “It was more than just luck. Maryanne wouldn’t still be with us if it weren’t for you and your bravery. Mother and Ada thought you were crazy to take my daughter clear to Hangtown, and so did I. We were wrong, and you were right.” He regarded her with new respect. “What a woman you’ve become. That silly little twit from Philadelphia has finally grown up.”

  “Thanks, Hugh, but if you could have, you’d have done the same.” Her modest reply concealed her delight at receiving rare praise from her older brother. Without realizing it till now, she’d crossed a new threshold in her life, a new level of respect. How immensely gratifying that her family no longer regarded her as a frivolous young woman in need of guidance.

  They chatted for a while. Hugh told her how much better he felt. His ribs didn’t hurt as much and soon he’d be going downstairs for the first time since the accident. “And I’ll also be returning to the mine, Laurie. You’ll be back with Brandon again before you know it.”

  Brandon Cooper. Strange, from the day they met, he’d constantly been on her mind but not so much these past few days. Understandable, of course, considering all the excitement going on.

  Hoping Darcy hadn’t left, she headed for the stable. She’d thanked him at least once, maybe twice, but she very much wanted to thank him again.