by Lucy Evanson
“Well, you might want to see if she can stay longer than that. Polly’s going to need some help for a while. Push her too hard, too quick, and things might be more serious next time.”
“How serious do you mean?”
“You don’t want to find out, believe me. Like I said, you should keep that girl around.” The doctor reached for the side of the driver’s seat and pulled himself aboard the carriage. “I’ll stop by and see her tomorrow. If you need me before then, send somebody to the house. I won’t be going back to the clinic tonight.”
“I’ll do that,” David said. “Thanks, Doc.”
Sullivan nodded as he got underway; David watched until the runabout had topped the hill and was out of sight, then he went back into the house. As he passed the parlor he paused in the hall. He exchanged a wave with Polly, who was now sitting up in the middle of the sofa, with Melanie on one side and Barney on the other. Polly was the only one who appeared to have dry eyes.
“You’re looking better already,” he called.
“Feeling better,” she said, though her voice seemed weak.
“I made you some tea. Figured you’d like some when you woke up.”
She gave him a thin smile and David continued down the hall to the kitchen. He lifted the towel and felt the side of the teapot. It was still hot. David grabbed a cup and started for the parlor. There might be some dark days coming, but today would not be one of them.
Chapter 6
Melanie had some experience running a house. Back home, her mother had taught her all the essentials, and she was fairly sure that taking over at the ranch while Polly was on the mend would be more of the same. A little cooking, a little cleaning, and that would be that.
As it turned out, running the ranch house was a bit more involved than she anticipated. Polly may have been hired originally to care just for David, but over the years her job had evolved to the point where she was also acting like a mother hen for the fifteen men who worked the ranch.
There were fifteen breakfasts to prepare and fifteen midday dinners. Fifteen men in the fields, ripping their shirts and splitting their pants. Fifteen men hard at work earning themselves cuts and scrapes, and fifteen men tracking dirt when they came to the house to get fixed up. And the ranch hands weren’t even the end of it. Counting Melanie, Polly, David and whoever else might have been on the property for the day, there were usually around twenty people who might have needed one thing or another at one time or another. It’s a wonder she didn’t keel over years ago, Melanie thought.
She was sitting alone in the kitchen, enjoying a rare quiet moment in the late morning. The sunlight was pouring through the window and she watched dust motes drift through the air while she waited for her coffee to cool a bit. It was only the third day since Polly’s accident, but already Melanie felt accustomed to the work and she appreciated every opportunity to catch her breath like this. The days were lopsided with work; the mornings were busier than the afternoons given that so many of the men went into town at the end of the day and ate at the saloons. Melanie assumed, however, that the food wasn’t the main attraction for most of the men. In fact, Barney was just about the only man who regularly stayed at the ranch for supper, eating quietly in the kitchen with Polly.
“Melanie, can you come here?”
She sighed as she got to her feet. Melanie didn’t begrudge Polly anything, though it would have been nice to finish her coffee for once. They were right at the cusp between the breakfast cleanup and the preparation for the midday meal, and there wouldn’t be another chance to take a break for hours. “Coming, Polly,” she called as she took a quick sip and left her cup on the table.
Polly was still running the house from her bed, though she was doing none of the actual work. Based on that arrangement, David had called her the house supervisor, at which point Polly suggested that he must be the ranch supervisor. David didn’t find the comment as funny as Melanie did.
“Can I get you something, Polly?” She was surprised to see her aunt sitting up. Polly had spent most of her time flat on her back recently, napping or reading.
“Not a thing,” Polly said as she dropped her legs to the side and stood up. Melanie rushed to her side and held her elbow, though Polly laughed and waved her away. “I can get around by myself, honey,” she said. “I’m not that old yet.”
“The doctor said to take it easy,” Melanie reminded her.
“I’ve had enough easy for now,” she said. “I feel like making supper for the boys today.”
“There’s no reason to push yourself like that. I can do it.”
“I know you can,” Polly said. “And I appreciate how much you’ve been doing around here the last couple of days. But today I feel like cooking.”
“Well, at least let me help you.”
“You will. I want you to fill the big pot with water and set it to boil. I’m going to make some soup.”
“Isn’t it hot out for that?”
“If they don’t want it, they can make supper themselves,” Polly said with a grin. “I’m not making anything too complicated today.” She went to the wardrobe in the corner of the room and took out a light robe. “Meanwhile, I need you and David to go into town for some supplies.”
“Really?” Melanie’s opinion of David had been tempered a bit since Polly fell ill, but she still clearly remembered their last ride together. She wasn’t in any rush to recreate it. “Don’t you think he ought to go by himself?”
“I want you to go with him,” Polly said, as she took a moment to examine herself in the mirror, pulling a strand of hair back behind her ear. It was the oddest thing. Melanie could have sworn that she was suppressing a smile for a second. “He’s got the money, but you know what we need. When I send him alone, he forgets half of what I wanted and brings back the wrong kind of the other half.”
“Well...all right, we’ll go.”
“You need to get off the ranch anyway. You haven’t stepped foot off the property since you got here,” Polly said as they went to the kitchen. “David can show you around town while you’re there. Who knows? You might even have a good time.”
Melanie took off her apron and handed it to her aunt. “I’m not expecting that,” she said, “though I guess stranger things have happened.”
~ ~ ~
Melanie had surprised him three times this morning, and it wasn’t even noon. First of all, he hadn’t been expecting to see her traipsing through the field, following the fence line until she found the section he was repairing. He also wasn’t expecting her to ask him to go into town with her—well, perhaps it was more telling than asking, but it was surprising nonetheless. And he certainly hadn’t been expecting her to leave her novel at the house. He was so used to seeing it in her hand that it looked odd to see her without it, as if she had somehow managed to leave off a whole appendage.
“Did you finish your book?”
“Not yet,” she said. “I’ve been too busy to read for the last few days.”
He nodded. “I’m not surprised,” he said. “You’ve been working your tail off.” As soon as the words leaped out of his mouth, he felt his cheeks redden. “Sorry. I mean, you’ve been working a lot.”
She laughed. “I’d say you were right the first time. I don’t know how Polly does it.”
“She works hard, no doubt about it. But for what it’s worth, the boys think you’re doing a good job,” he said. “Everybody except for Barney.”
“Really? Did he say something to you?”
“No, he just likes to bellyache at the dinner table,” David said. “He doesn’t want Polly to think he likes your cooking better than hers. I did see him going back for seconds at breakfast this morning, though.”
“I guess it can’t be too bad, then,” she said. “So are the boys the only ones who think I’m doing a good job?”
David thought for a minute. “Polly thinks so too,” he finally said.
“Anybody else?”
After another long
moment he laughed and shook his head. “I think so too,” he said. “Thanks.”
She smiled and nodded. “You’re welcome.”
It was a bright, warm day, but a stiff breeze washed across the prairie. The ride into town was more pleasant than he’d been expecting, both in terms of the weather and the company; although David had a list of chores as long as his arm, he had to admit that the impromptu trip was a nice change.
As they entered Mineral Point and turned onto High Street, the mercantile was easily seen from three blocks away. It was no longer as imposing a building as it once was—over the years plenty of other buildings had gone up that were nearly as big—but it was still easily recognizable for the cream-colored stone of the storefront. When they got closer, David saw that a boy, perhaps eight years old, stood at the entrance. He was barefoot and his dirt-stained clothes were both too small and too big. His fraying pant cuffs hung well above his ankles, but his bunched-up waistband, tied with a rope belt, showed how skinny the boy was. He held his hands behind his back and gazed calmly at David as he parked the carriage and helped Melanie down. The boy looked like the town’s shortest, grubbiest doorman.
“Hi folks,” he said as David stepped up onto the raised sidewalk. “You got any food I could have?”
“Nope,” David said. “That’s why we’re here.”
“Can I have some money, then?”
David glanced down. The grime on the boy had given him a dusky tone, except where some sweat had accidentally washed his neck. He was perhaps the dirtiest-looking person David had ever seen, which was some doing, considering that his competition included the group back at the ranch. “You going to use it to buy soap?”
The boy gave him a blank look. “No,” he finally said.
“Then no, you can’t,” David said. He stepped forward and opened the door for Melanie, who entered the store but then went to the front window and looked out.
“That poor boy,” she said.
“Poor? I doubt it,” David said as he went to her side. “He’s acting.”
“He’s acting thin? That’s some act.”
“I don’t know about that, but I’m not falling for it.” The boy had latched onto a slow-moving older woman, but he seemed to be getting as much out of her as he had out of David. “Some families have fallen on hard times in the last few years, but I’ve never seen anybody go hungry around here.”
She tore her gaze away from the street. “What do you mean, hard times? Why?”
David shrugged. “The mines aren’t producing as much as they used to. The miners, on the other hand, are still producing as many kids as ever,” he said. “Less money, more kids. Still, I don’t know what it’s like up in Peshtigo, but around here everybody makes do just fine.”
Melanie frowned. “I’d like to help that boy.”
David snorted. “You know that boy needs about as much help as I do, right?” he said. “He probably rubbed that dirt on his face this morning just to fool people like you.”
She turned to him. “People like me? Foolish people, you mean?”
David raised his hands in surrender. “I just mean...sensitive people,” he said, finding the right word only after a long thought. “People who would give him the benefit of the doubt. I’m sure he just wants money for sweets.”
“He didn’t ask you for money first,” she murmured as she looked out the window again. “He asked for food.”
David was about to reply, but realized that he had nothing to say. The boy was skinny as a rail; that much was true. It was unlikely that Melanie—an outsider who had spent all of twenty minutes in Mineral Point—knew how things were around here better than he did, but he had to admit that there was a tiny possibility that she was right. Unlikely, but possible.
He took a long look at her then, as though for the first time. He wasn’t seeing her now as some odd girl waiting trailside for a ride up the hill, and he wasn’t seeing her as Polly’s niece. He was seeing her as a young woman, plain and simple.
Except that there was nothing plain about her. He couldn’t say exactly why he didn’t notice it before—perhaps because she was always hiding behind a book—but Melanie was stunning. She was balanced just at the cusp between girlhood and womanhood, at that age when her maturity was still cloaked in youth, and she was a curious combination of delicate features that hinted at an inner strength. Her eyes, so bright and lively, echoed the rich brown color of her hair, and David swallowed hard as he let his gaze drop down to the delicate wisp of hair that traced her neckline. He had to fight off the image that popped into his mind, of his lips on her throat just there. Take it easy, he told himself. It’s not like she’s the first pretty girl you’ve ever seen. But to see how she cared for this grimy, scrawny boy, whom neither of them had ever seen up until five minutes ago, well...it just confirmed that she was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. Before David could say anything, there was a voice behind them.
“How are things out your way, Dave?”
He turned to see John Gray coming down the aisle. “Hey, John,” he said. “I want you to meet somebody. This is Melanie White. Polly’s niece.”
“Good to meet you, Melanie,” John said. As he took her hand, he glanced out the window and his gaze hardened.
“Not again,” he muttered as he watched the boy approach another customer on her way into the store. “If you need help finding anything, I’ll be right back. I have to go sweep this trash away.”
“Please don’t,” Melanie said. “He didn’t bother us at all. He was actually very polite.”
The corner of John’s mouth pulled back in disgust. “Nothing polite about bothering my customers,” he said. He grabbed a broom that was propped against the wall and was about to step outside when David took his arm.
“John, hold on.” David looked him in the eye and subtly shook his head. “Maybe that can wait, huh?”
His scowl deepened, and when he glanced out the window one more time his eyes blazed with anger, but John finally replaced the broom against the wall. “I’ll give him a little while to get going on his own,” he growled. “But one way or another he’s gonna get going.”
David nodded and steered Melanie into the closest aisle. “Let me grab a basket and we’ll get started.”
Melanie reached for his elbow and stopped him. “Thank you, David,” she said quietly.
She was looking at him with an odd expression. It was one that he hadn’t seen on her before and it took him a moment to realize that it was gratitude. Not displeasure, not annoyance, but sincere gratitude. Well, no wonder I don’t recognize it, he thought. This is practically the first conversation we’ve had when I haven’t been teasing her about something. He felt himself go slightly pink. “You’re welcome,” he muttered, then went for the basket.
As he followed her through the aisles, Melanie chose a few items here and there. A small bag of peppercorns. A container of tea. A tin of oysters and a small jar of pickled eggs. “I’m surprised Polly had you go shopping today,” he said. “It doesn’t look like we need very much.”
“No, we don’t,” she murmured as she picked up a jar of strawberry preserves. “How silly. Who would buy this when you can make your own at home?”
David shrugged. “Not everybody knows how to make it, I guess.”
“It must be for bachelors,” she said, then she turned to look at David. “Now it all makes sense,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “Polly’s been filling that root cellar with preserves and whatnot so you still have some when she runs off with Barney.”
He laughed. “That could be, I suppose. I better keep an eye on them.”
Melanie replaced the jar on the shelf and continued down the aisle, looking from side to side while she walked so as not to miss anything. They may not have needed much, but she still managed to fill the basket by the time they finished their tour of the store. When they approached the counter, John was there waiting for them with a rueful smile on his face. “Sorry if I came o
ff a little gruff before,” he said. “I’m usually not like that, but I can’t have panhandlers bothering my customers out there.”
“Of course not,” David said. “You have a business to run.”
John nodded as he began to pack their supplies into a box. “I’m glad you understand,” he said. He gave a once-over to the box and made some notes on a sheet of paper, then pushed the box across the counter toward them. “All right, then. I’ll put all this on your account.”
“I appreciate it, John. Take care.” David was about to reach for the box when Melanie spoke up.
“One more thing, Mr. Gray,” she said. “Are those horehound candies?”
He turned to look at the glass jars lining the rear counter. “Sure are.”
“Could you give me some of those and some of the peppermint drops?”
“Of course.” He pulled a sheet of newspaper from a stack beneath the counter and rolled it into a cone, then filled it with the candy. “Here you are.”
“Thank you.” She led David out of the store, holding the door for him as he passed with the box.
“I didn’t know you had a sweet tooth,” he said.
“I don’t. Come with me.” She led him not down to the street and their runabout, but rather down the sidewalk. The boy perked up a bit as he saw them approach, but then he recognized them as fruitless. His shoulders slumped.
Melanie stopped directly in front of him, and the boy looked up at her with a leery gaze.
“What’s your name?”
His eyes narrowed further, but after a moment he spoke. “Lee Benz.”
“Lee, do you have somewhere to go? Do you have a home?”
His face scrunched up like he’d never heard such a ridiculous question. “‘Course I do,” he said.
“Told you,” David muttered.
“Do you have somebody there to cook for you? Your mom?”
The boy’s eyes flitted back and forth between Melanie and David. “Ma died,” he finally said. “I got my pa, but he don’t cook. We ain’t got food anyhow, even if he did.”