Alice, with Buddy in tow, led the others, and they helped themselves to the food spread out before them. “Now, save room for my cake,” Alice said, moving to the dessert table. She cut a sizable piece of the chocolate cake and set it on Buddy’s plate. As she did, Buddy stepped backward and tripped, righting himself by grabbing hold of the table, pushing Nell’s lemon meringue pie onto the floor. It landed meringue side down.
“Oh, look what I’ve done. I’ve spoiled it,” he said, searching for Nell, and when he spotted her, he gave a mournful look.
“You sure did,” Lucy muttered. “Almost on purpose, looks like.”
Alice laughed. “Oh, there’s plenty more, and I’m sure it wasn’t much anyway.” She called to Nell, “There’s a rag in the kitchen to clean it up.”
Nell glared at her, but Alice only laughed and turned away, and, mortified, Nell went into the kitchen for something to wipe up the spilled pie. Why would Buddy have done such a thing, she wondered, and was it really an accident? After she had cleaned up the mess, Nell didn’t care to eat. “Now I really am sick. I can find my way home by myself.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Lucy told her. “Don’t you dare let Alice Mackintosh drive you away. And don’t turn moody. You’re going to stay and have a good time. And you’ll dance every dance, even if you have to dance with me.” The two had taken their plates to a nook in one of the parlors. Lucy glanced at a man nearby, then said, “Why, Owen, you haven’t met our Nell. Owen Mackintosh is Alice’s brother.”
Owen smiled. “I was wondering who the girl was who refused to ride a horse all gussied up in a satin dress.” He bowed a little. “I saw her from the window, and I would be honored to claim the first dance with her.” He stood and held out his arm. “I think I hear the musicians now. Would you do me the honor—unless you want some of my sister’s wretched cake.”
Lucy shoved at Nell, who stood and took Owen’s arm. “I would be pleased,” she said, but she wasn’t. She would rather dance with Buddy, although she allowed Owen to lead her upstairs to the ballroom.
Owen was a good dancer, but he was only one of the men who claimed Nell. As soon as a dance ended, another man took her arm, and when that dance was finished, Owen was back again. Once Buddy stepped up and asked her to dance, but as soon as he did, Alice said, “Why, I believe I promised you this one.” She smiled at Nell, “Honestly, don’t you think we ought to have dance cards? I just can’t keep all the men straight.” She pouted as she added to Buddy, “Of course, you’d fill up my card and wouldn’t let anyone else dance with me.”
About midnight, Lucy told Nell that she and Mr. Archer were leaving. “You can come with us, if you’re tired,” she said, glancing at Buddy, who was dancing with Alice again. “Might be safer since it looks like snow.”
Buddy saw them, however, and left Alice to say it was time he, too, went home. “That is, if you’re ready, Miss Nell.”
“I can ride home with Lucy,” she said.
Buddy frowned. “I invited you, and I’ll take you home. Wouldn’t be right not to.” He was firm.
“Oh, you can’t leave already,” Alice said, but Buddy told her he had chores in the morning.
“Maybe we can go riding.”
“I thought you didn’t like to ride,” Buddy said.
Alice linked her arm through his. “I do with you. Perhaps we can invite Owen and—Nellie, is it?”
“Nell,” Nell told her.
“If you can get away from the kitchen,” Alice added.
They said their good-byes, and Buddy helped Nell mount Bean. Then, instead of following the carriage on the road to the ranch, he led Nell through town and took off across the High Plains, just as flakes of snow began to fall. They floated down, leaving patches of white on the sage and chamisa. After a mile, Buddy slowed his horse, and Nell came up beside him.
“Did you have a good time?” he asked.
“Mmm.”
“You sure were pirooting around with Owen Mackintosh.”
Nell flared. “I wasn’t fooling around with anybody.”
“He’s cultus, doesn’t know a thing that’s useful. He’s been off to college in the East,” Buddy said.
“So has Alice.”
“It’s different with a girl.”
“Why’s that?”
Buddy thought that over and didn’t reply. “I just wanted to warn you. Don’t go thinking he’s anything special.”
“Not like Alice.”
“He’s all but engaged to a girl in New York or someplace like that. Alice told me.”
“I’m not out to marry him. I just wanted somebody to dance with since the fellow who brought me to the party was busy with another girl.” There, she’d said it. Nell wasn’t sure she should have. But she was hurt. Buddy had treated her shabbily. Her eyes watered, and she wiped them with the sleeve of her jacket. She’d been so foolish. How could a hired girl dressed in a rough riding costume think to compete against Alice Mackintosh with her satin dress and skin as pale as the snowflakes? No wonder Nell could hardly keep from crying. She turned away so that Buddy wouldn’t see the tears.
Buddy reined in his horse and stared at her. The moon he had promised wasn’t visible, but it sent just enough light through the snow that he could see her face. “You think I went over there to see Alice?”
“Looks like it to me, but what do I care? You’re free to do anything you like. Only next time, don’t invite me to go with you.” Nell tossed her head and kicked Bean, but Buddy grabbed her reins.
“I didn’t have any choice. I tried to eat supper with you, but you were in the kitchen, and Alice kept ahold of me. I couldn’t shake her, and that’s the truth. Every time I tried to dance with you, you were with Owen, and then Alice would tell me I’d promised that dance to her. It just all got too confusing.”
“Is that why you knocked over my pie?”
“It was an accident.”
“Didn’t look like it to me.”
Buddy turned away, then looked back at Nell. “It wasn’t.”
“You did it on purpose? I thought you were done with practical jokes.” Her voice was choked, and she dabbed at her eyes again. This was supposed to have been a wonderful evening with Buddy, but it hadn’t turned out that way. Even the moon he had promised was obscured. Nell grabbed her reins from Buddy and was ready to ride off.
“’Course I did it on purpose. Maybe you didn’t see her shake salt all over the top of it.”
Nell stared at him, a frown on her face. “What?”
Buddy nodded. “Anybody ate your pie was in for a bad surprise. I already spoiled your reputation with those handkerchiefs. I didn’t want folks talking you couldn’t bake a pie.”
“Is that the truth? You did that? For me?”
“Well, sure I did. Alice has got it in for you, and I don’t know why.”
Nell blinked. Was it possible he really didn’t know why Alice would go after her?
Then Buddy said, “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. I got feelings aplenty for you, Nell. I like you awful well.” It was the first time he hadn’t called her Miss Nell. “And I was kind of hoping you had them for me. I was thinking that was why you bought me this red handkerchief.”
Nell couldn’t say anything.
“Am I right?”
She stared at him in the moonlight, brushing off the flakes of snow that had fallen on her hair. Why hadn’t she brought a scarf or a hat?
“I said if I found out who gave it to me, I’d give her a kiss and a white handkerchief. Well, I lied about that. I’m keeping the handkerchief.” Buddy reached over and touched her hair, which was damp from the snow. Then he took off his big white hat. As he leaned over to put it on Nell’s head, he kissed her. Harder and longer this time.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Nell loved the snow that fell on the High Plains. She liked standing in the doorway and looking out at the sweep of white, the far mountain peaks shimmering. When she rode out across the prairie with Buddy, she
saw the footprints of rabbits and deer, and sometimes she caught sight of the brown antelope with their white rumps that were almost invisible against the snowy land. Buddy told her they were curious, and once they tied their horses in an arroyo and crept along so they were close to the animals. Buddy tied his bandana to a stick and raised it up, and the antelope came over to investigate.
The New Mexico snow was dry, and unlike the heavy midwestern snows that Nell was used to, it didn’t stay on the ground all winter but melted away as soon as the storm ended and the sun came out. Of course, it was too cold to sit on the porch on winter evenings, but Nell and Buddy found ways to see each other. Nell waited until Buddy was in the corral before she went out to feed the chickens. She loved the chickens, each one with a different personality. The blue one missing feathers on one side was mean, always pecking at the others, while the chicken with the brown feathers, the tips red as a rooster comb, was cheeky, the white one a worrier. Sometimes Nell and Buddy sat on the corral fence and watched them, throwing corn or food scraps to their favorites.
Buddy found reasons to come to the ranch house at night. He chopped stovewood and brought it into the kitchen. Then he sat among the geraniums in the window ledge in the light of a kerosene lamp, patching a bridle or oiling his boots, while Nell pieced her quilts. He found excuses to come into the kitchen during the daytime, too, watching Nell and Lucy cook, paring potatoes for them or carrying out scraps to the chickens. He even helped Nell hang up the laundry, handing her wooden clothespins while she pinned the sheets and shirts to the line to dry as hard as fence posts in the stiff winter wind. Once he brought his woolies—angora chaps—to Nell and asked her to help wash them.
“Makes the house smell like sheep dip,” Lucy muttered. “That’s not a good thing for a cattle ranch.” But Lucy liked Buddy and approved of the courtship.
When their work was done, Buddy took Nell riding, often over snowy trails toward the mountains. Sometimes they checked on the cattle, or Nell helped Buddy repair a fence. She wore heavy gloves lined with rabbit fur, but even then, her hands got cold, and Buddy would take off their gloves and hold their hands together inside his coat.
Often as they rode along, side by side, Buddy talked about the future. “I’m not always going to be a hired hand. I plan on having my own ranch,” he told her.
“Doesn’t that take an awful lot of money?” Nell asked.
“I’ve got a bit saved up. More than a bit.”
Nell knew what a cowboy’s wages were and said, “You’d have to work a long time to save enough to buy a ranch.” And then she realized that Buddy could marry someone who had enough money to buy a ranch—Alice.
“Oh, like I told you before, I had a dab of money before I came here. I’ll need more to swing it, but I got enough for a down payment,” Buddy said, as if he knew what she was thinking. He explained that he had inherited his parents’ farm in Iowa and sold it. “I didn’t want to be a granger all my life. I came out here to learn the cattle business, and I guess I know enough now to make a ranch.”
“So you’re leaving the Rockin’ A?” Nell tried to keep her concern out of her voice. Maybe Buddy had just been trifling with her. She knew he liked her, but he’d never declared himself.
“Not just yet, but before too long. I got a place in mind.” He was quiet, and Nell didn’t push him.
She learned a great deal about Buddy on those outings. He was kind and compassionate. He didn’t like to hurt animals, and if he found a bird with a broken wing, he’d take it back to the barn and try to doctor it. While the other cowboys tossed the bunkhouse mice they caught into the stove, Buddy took them outside and let them go. He hunted antelope and deer, but that was for food, not for the joy of killing.
Buddy was patient. He would sit and think through a problem before he tried to solve it. And once he made up his mind, he never deviated. He was stubborn that way, too stubborn, Nell thought, although she understood it, because she was stubborn, too. He expected once he’d made up his mind about a thing, she should go along with it. Nell didn’t always agree, particularly when it came to what he expected of her.
There was one other thing: He was jealous.
* * *
Owen Mackintosh showed up at the Rockin’ A in a buggy one Sunday after Christmas and invited Nell to have lunch with him at the Plaza Hotel in Las Vegas. Buddy, sitting in the kitchen when Owen arrived, seethed, but he hadn’t any right to tell her not to go. Nell wore her red dress and had a grand time. Owen was polished, a fine talker, and he ordered a good meal. She even let him buy her cowboy coffee—whiskey neat—and on the way home, warm under a fur robe, the two sang college songs. Buddy was in the corral when they rode past. Except for meals, Buddy didn’t come to the ranch house for two or three days.
Not long after that, Owen rode out to the ranch, arriving just at dinnertime. Mr. Archer invited him to sit down with the cowboys. Nell thought the hands might find Owen high-headed, maybe play jokes on him, but Owen fit right in. He knew enough about ranching to join in the conversation, and when he failed to understand a thing, he didn’t try to bluff. Instead, he asked outright what was meant. The hands liked that, all but Buddy. He glared at Owen until Lucy asked Buddy if he was off his feed. When the other cowboys went back to work, Buddy stayed in the kitchen, watching.
Owen didn’t seem to mind him. In fact, he told Buddy he was glad for his company, because, he said, “I have a grand idea. There’s a winter carnival with ice skating in town on Saturday night, and Alice is dying to have you escort her. I could take Nell. We thought the two of you could ride into town together, and we’d meet you there.”
Nell wasn’t sure it was such a grand idea. She wouldn’t mind attending with Owen, but she didn’t like the idea of Buddy taking Alice.
Lucy, who was washing the dishes, spoke up. “You go on, Nell. I can handle supper for the boys.”
Nell glanced at Buddy, who had been watching her. He grinned slyly. “Why, that’s a fine idea.”
Nell stiffened. Maybe Buddy wanted to be with Alice.
“Capital!” Owen said. “Alice says she thinks you’ve deserted her. She’ll be delighted.” He winked at Buddy. “Wait until you see the cunning little skating outfit she’s going to wear.”
“Do you know how to skate?” Nell asked Buddy.
“I guess I can manage.”
After the men left, Nell told Lucy, “You should have said I couldn’t go.”
“Don’t be so glum. Buddy’s only trying to make you jealous. You go and have a good time with Owen. That’ll be the best revenge.”
Nell wasn’t so sure.
* * *
The two of them rode their horses into town the afternoon of the carnival. The sky was clear, but Buddy said you never knew when it might snow, and if it did, they would be better on horseback than in a buggy. When they arrived, Alice and Owen were already at the skating rink, Alice surrounded by young men. She was indeed ragged out, in a white skating outfit with a little fur muff. Nell had worn her divided skirt and a wool coat of Lucy’s, cut from a trapper blanket, and thought she looked fine when she viewed herself in a mirror at the ranch. Compared to Alice, however, Nell felt dowdy.
“Alice is likely to freeze to death. You’re dressed just exactly right,” Owen told her, taking her arm and leading her to a booth that rented skates. He turned to Buddy. “Alice brought your skates from the house.”
“I wouldn’t think a cowboy would know how to skate,” Nell said.
“Oh, he didn’t. Alice taught him last winter. She even bought him skates for a Christmas present. The cowboys teased him something awful, but in fact, he’s quite good.”
Nell was a competent ice skater, but nothing like Alice, who flitted back and forth across the ice, twirling around, her skirt billowing about her. Sometimes she skated by herself, but most of the time she held hands with Buddy.
“They’re very good together, don’t you think?” Owen asked, and Nell had to grit her teeth and agree. “I guess
it’s plain she’s stuck on him,” Owen added.
Once, the two couples exchanged partners. “Alice is awfully good on skates,” Nell repeated, determined not to let Buddy know she despised the girl.
“If you like ice skating, I guess.”
“Don’t you?”
“I’m a cowpuncher. I’ll get teased like the devil if the boys find out I went ice skating again.”
“Then why did you come?”
“Why did you?”
“I wanted to have a good time. Isn’t that why you’re here?”
Buddy nodded. “Well, somebody had to protect you from Owen.”
Nell should have been pleased by the remark, but instead, she flared. Buddy was presumptuous. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need some self-appointed rescuer. Besides, Owen’s a gentleman.”
“You mean he’s no cowpuncher.”
“I didn’t say that. And you know I don’t believe any such thing.”
The scratchy gramophone music ended, and the couples changed partners again. Owen suggested they get cocoa, and the four skated over to a concession stand. Owen pulled out a flask and poured a slug of whiskey into Alice’s cup and then his own. He held out the flask to Nell, who poured a small amount into her cocoa. Buddy shook his head. Then Owen proposed they take off their skates and sit in the stand to watch fireworks, but Nell said she had to leave. “I get up early to help with breakfast,” she told them.
“Oh, I forget you’re the hired girl,” Alice said. “I suppose you expect Buddy to take you home.”
“I can ride out with her,” Owen said. “I’ll just get my horse.”
Buddy put his hand on Owen’s arm. “I brought Miss Nell, and I’ll see her home,” he said in a firm voice.
Alice pouted. “We haven’t been together in over a year, and you’re leaving already. I am entirely hurt,” she said, then kissed Buddy on the cheek—and would have kissed him on the mouth if they’d been alone, Nell thought.
The night was bright with stars, millions of tiny white lights sparkling from horizon to horizon, and lit by the moon. The prairie was vast and silent, and it seemed they were the only ones out. Nell and Buddy rode in silence, but it was a comfortable silence, as if neither wanted to spoil the majesty of the night by talking. In fact, it would have been a perfect night if it hadn’t been for Alice, Nell thought. But she didn’t say anything about her, and Buddy didn’t comment on Owen. As they neared the ranch house, Buddy said, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone that I went ice skating.”
The Patchwork Bride Page 7