Mrs. Hollyhock picked up his dirty plate and slipped it into the water bucket on the counter.
He suppressed his smile. He’d won—for now. “When will those chickens start to lay?”
She smiled, and a warm look came into her eyes. “Well, I’m not exactly sure. Usually takes ’em five or six months before they start. Not knowin’ how old Rose, Iris, and Buttercup really are makes it a tad bit difficult ta know. Their combs are startin’ to turn, though. I’d guess ’bout a month, give or take a few weeks.”
In other words, she had no idea. “Buttercup?” He chuckled, drawing an irritated look from her. “What’d you name the rooster?”
She pulled out a chair and sat beside him, shaking her head. “That poor, confused creature, I ain’t never seen another like him. Thinks he’s a hen. Goes around with the girls scratching and pecking, and cuddlin’ close. Cockerels usually stay apart—thinkin’ they’re superior, jist bidin’ their time till the pullets come into their own, iffin’ you know what I mean.” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down suggestively. “I hope he has it in ’im when the time comes. I’d like to grow my flock and sell eggs to the mercantile again, like I used to.”
“The name.”
She fidgeted in her chair. “Pansy.”
He couldn’t hold back and laughed from his gut.
“Shush. You’re gonna wake the others.”
He stood. “I better get to your chores so I won’t be late to Win’s.” He shook his head. The old woman had turned into a good friend, one he’d needed badly. “I hope Pansy doesn’t live up to his name.” He patted his leg. “Come on, Ivan, let’s get you out on your line.”
Finished at the Red Rooster and cleaned up, Thom rode down Main Street on his way to work. Two fellows, faces he remembered from the brawl he’d had the first Saturday in town, stood in front of the bakery and watched his approach. He reined up next door at the mercantile, ignoring their angry stares.
“Thomas,” Maude called from the window, feather duster in hand. She rushed over and wrapped him in an embrace even before he had a chance to remove his hat. Warmth crept into his face as she held him much longer than he felt comfortable. He finally broke away, thanking her. “Good to see you, too,” he said, swiping the Stetson from his head.
“Thank you for helping Hannah in the restaurant yesterday. The three of you—no, the five of you—really had your work cut out. Markus is growing up so fast. It’s just wonderful that Mr. Peabody’s words are coming true. I’ve had three exceptional days here at the store, too.”
“Yes. It’s happening faster than anyone expected, I think.” Thom scanned the shelves as she went on. The bell above the door tinkled, and two unfamiliar ladies stepped in.
“Excuse me for a moment.” She hurried over to the newcomers.
Thom breathed a sigh of relief. He went to the wall and picked up the boots Hannah had rejected a few days ago. She hadn’t had a chance to come and get them yet, and he wanted to surprise her. He took them to the counter and waited for Maude.
The shopkeeper came around the counter and stopped. Smiled when she saw the boots. Pulling the pencil from behind her ear, she wrote up his tag. “Would you like this on your account?”
He nodded.
“Anything else?”
“A sack of flour.”
Maude’s gaze jerked up to his. “Violet feeling poorly? She usually picks up her staples on Thursday.”
“No. She’s fine.”
Maude harrumphed at having guessed wrong. “Must think you’re her personal slave.”
“No, ma’am.”
“Maude,” the shopkeeper corrected.
He nodded. “And some wallpaper paste. I didn’t see any on your shelves.”
Her eyebrow crooked up. “Wallpaper paste?”
Thom shifted his weight. He didn’t like fibbing, but there was no help for it now. “Uh, yes.”
When he didn’t offer a clarification, she asked, “Is Violet finally doing something with the interior of that rustic barn?”
The Red Rooster was hardly a barn, but he knew better than to get between two women. “Yes. She’s always doing this or that.”
She turned to fetch what he’d asked for. “Thank heavens for small favors,” she muttered, as she walked behind the long counter toward the back room. “That old place could use some loving care, I should think. Especially now, with all the new citizens that’ll be moving here. Ever since Dora Lee sold it to that country bumpkin…”
Thom couldn’t hear the end of Maude’s sentence as she disappeared through the alcove. He felt the presence of someone behind him, so he turned. The two ladies, one young and one older, smiled up at him, twittering. The young one looked away immediately, but the other—her mother?—nodded.
“Ladies,” he said, turning back to the counter. What was taking Maude so long?
“Here we are,” Maude exclaimed, hurrying back. She handed him a good-size cardboard paper box and a five-pound sack of flour. “Tell Violet that if she needs help picking out a pretty paper, I have many years of experience decorating. I’d be glad to help.”
Thom put his hat on and made for the door. “I’ll do that, ma’am. And thank you.”
“Maude,” he heard her call to his back. “Anytime, Thomas.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Once Win had gone out to lunch, Thom pulled the big barn doors closed and hurried into the tack room, where he’d stashed the wallpaper paste and flour behind the stack of grain sacks.
The barn was warm. Sweat, generated from nerves, gathered on his forehead. Am I crazy? This just might be the lamest thing he’d ever thought of, but all the same, he had to try something. Opportunities like this didn’t come along every day.
He dumped the whole five-pound sack of flour into a bucket with a whoosh, his face and arms getting covered with a light white film. Dusting off, he added a small amount of water. When it was sticky, he added a good amount of the paste. Remembering Hannah and her recitation of her biscuit story last night made him chuckle. This was all guesswork and might end up as nothing more than a big mess to clean up.
Finished, he set the chalk-white mixture aside, haltered Rome’s gelding, and brought him out of his stall, tying him at the hitching post. He carefully picked pebbles and hay out of each hoof, now divested of any iron shoe.
He needed to act swiftly. If Win caught him in the act, he’d think he’d gone completely off his rocker. Using a trowel, he spread out a thin layer of the mixture on a board he’d found leaning against the wall of the toolshed. A glob fell off the edge of the trowel and plopped onto his pants.
It was fortunate Rome’s gelding was gentle. The horse didn’t resist as he lifted each hoof and placed it on the board, making a nice, distinct print of each. Thom made sure to take extra time with his front right, to get the outside crack in the print.
Whamp, whamp, whamp.
Someone was outside. Grasping the long board, Thom climbed quickly to the loft and laid it atop the hay to dry. He stashed the bucket in the gelding’s stall and swung the gate closed. Hustling for the front doors, he prayed it wasn’t Rome, here to collect his gooey-hoofed horse.
One door slid open. “Anyone here?” Street sounds filtered in, people talking, horses trotting past.
Frank Lloyd stepped inside, blinking and looking around just as Thom arrived up front.
“Mr. Lloyd.” Thom wiped his hands down the front of his pant legs, then offered one to the banker. They shook. The poor man was trying to ignore his untidy appearance.
“I’ve been meaning to stop by sooner, Thom, but everybody and his mother has been keeping me busy. Welcome back to Logan Meadows.”
“Thank you. I’m glad to be home.”
A moment of awkward silence passed. “I’m sure you are. I’m sorry about your parents and brother. It must be very difficult for you. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help you settle in.”
“I appreciate that,” Thom responded. “I remember comin
g over to your place with Pa and Roland to clear your pasture when I was just a kid.”
Frank’s eyes crinkled. “Yes. That was before I moved into town.” The banker looked around expectantly.
“Win isn’t here right now,” Thom said. “Lunchtime. Is there something I can do for you?”
“It’s sort of personal, but I guess you can pass on the message to Win. Then if he has any questions, he can come over to the bank and talk with me.”
Thom waited. Hoped it wasn’t what he was thinking.
“There’s been a complaint about Win moving the two buffalo out toward the street.”
Roberta. She didn’t waste any time.
Maximus took that moment to let out a loud, bellowing complaint from the rear of the property.
“I see,” Thom said. “We started on the enclosure a few days ago but haven’t had a chance to finish it yet. Does this mean Win can’t go ahead with his plan?”
“Not exactly. It’s only one person. One person can’t dictate to the other business owners and such. Nevertheless, if said person got angry enough and decided to force their hand, they could get a petition going and the city council would have to address the situation.”
Roberta would definitely do that.
“My advice would be to hold off building for a while and let it blow over. Perhaps said person would be more receptive to the idea later. Personally, I really like the idea. A tourist attraction of sorts.”
Thom nodded. Darn that stubborn-headed woman. It amazed him how cantankerous she was.
Frank turned. “That’s all. I’ll let you get back to what you were doing.” His eyebrow crooked up. “Whatever that is. Oh, did Chase Logan relay the message I asked him to? I’m serious about your coming to me for anything, young man. You understand? This town needs good, strong men like yourself.”
“Yes, he did,” Thom replied, touched by the kindness of Hannah’s uncle. “Thank you. I may take you up on that at some point.” About Roberta, your sister.
The chill of May’s early mornings gave way to warmer temperatures and anticipation of Sarah’s approaching birthday. When June fourteenth finally arrived, Jessie could hardly contain her excitement. She gathered the children together, and Chase helped them all into the wagon as they prepared for the celebration of the noontime arrival of Logan Meadow’s first train and Sarah’s birthday. It would be a day of festivity, food, and fun. Maude had sent a message via Gabe that Sarah’s present had arrived in one piece and was everything they’d hoped it would be. The shopkeeper had wrapped it for Jessie and said it was ready whenever she’d like to pick it up.
“Excited?” Chase slapped the long reins over the team’s back, and the wagon lurched ahead.
“Yes,” Jessie replied. She held Shane in her lap, and Sarah sat between them. “It’s going to be a delightful day. I can feel it in my bones.”
“What’s delightful feel like, Mommy?” Sarah’s brows scrunched as she tried to figure out what that meant.
Chase laughed. “Yes, Jessie. I’ve wondered that myself.”
Shane was on the move and crawling, with help, over Sarah and onto Chase’s lap, where his father squashed him between his thighs and let him grasp the end of the reins. “Gooo horses,” he cried, a big smile splitting his freshly washed face.
“It means,” Jessie began, “that since I have such a beautiful family, and a nice day planned, that a warm, sort of fuzzy feeling is cuddled inside my heart.”
Sarah tipped her head. “But you said bones.”
“And bones,” Jessie added quickly. “Absolutely.”
Sarah nodded approvingly as if that made total sense to her. Chase just smiled as he drove the wagon, concentrating on the road ahead. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
With her arms now free, Jessie encircled her daughter and gave a hug, knowing that Sarah was going to love the pretty tea set that waited for her at the mercantile. She was all girl. A lovely, sweet girl, too. Jessie’s eyes prickled, but she blinked her emotion away. Sarah was seven today, or as close to that as they could figure. Three years had disappeared like melting snowflakes.
Changing the emotion-filled subject, Jessie said, “I thought Gabe and Jake were coming with us. Did they ride in earlier?”
“Yeah, they’re meeting us in town later, in time for supper and other things.” Chase tipped his head toward Sarah. “Since they both helped on the depot’s construction, they’re in celebrating with the other men. I have to say, it really turned out nice.”
Jessie’s excitement grew. “I can’t wait to see it.”
“Am I going on the eggnog ride, Pa?”
Chase chuckled. “Not today, sugar.” He patted Sarah’s leg. “But soon. I promise. That just didn’t work out.”
Sarah shrugged happily. “That’s OK. I forgot to bring Dolly McFolly anyway. I wouldn’t want to go without her.”
Hannah stood at the window of the Silky Hen and saw the Logans’ wagon navigating slowly through the crowded street. She stuffed her order pad and pencil into the pocket of her apron. “I’m sorry,” she said to the man and woman who had been waiting patiently for service. “I’ll be right back. I’ll only be a second.”
Running out the door, she looked both ways before venturing out to meet the tall, wooden-planked vehicle. “Good morning,” she called, taking in Sarah’s excitement and Shane’s little-boy energy. Chase pulled the horses to a stop.
“Good morning,” Jessie replied, her face beaming with happiness. “Just look at your restaurant. I can’t believe how it’s taken off these last two weeks.”
Hannah laughed. “Yes. I’ve had a deluge of customers for days. I feel like Noah after the flood. I’m tired, but it’s well worth the effort.” She lifted her skirt a few inches so Jessie could see the boots she was wearing. “But these help enormously.”
“New?”
Hannah nodded. She could feel her face turning red. “Yes. A mysterious someone left them for me in the broom closet.” She gave Jessie a knowing smile.
“Ahhh, how romantic,” she whispered. Jessie lifted her eyebrows in question, and Hannah nodded again.
“That’s wonderful, but do you have enough help?”
Dwight, atop his leggy roan horse, rode through the townspeople from the opposite direction, having already seen her in the street. The animal tossed his head and pulled on his reins, reacting to the excitement in the air. Dwight didn’t stop, but tipped his hat and smiled.
Hannah smiled back stiffly. “For now. Brenna is baking every night, and I have Lorna Brinkley, my mother’s friend, coming in four days a week to prepare a few extra dishes for the next day, and she helps clean up. We’re getting by and learning, too.” She laughed, still overjoyed at the sudden explosion of business. She was not only paying the bills, but had opened up a savings account that was building nicely, all thanks to the railroad and construction people. What would it be like when the train actually deposited travelers? “It’s all about thoughtful preparation the day before. If we have plenty of side dishes already prepared and ready to go, it’s doable for Susanna and me.”
“Well, you seem to have it all figured out. I’m glad. Are you going to be able to join us in the park for supper? We have plenty, and you’ve most certainly earned a break.”
“I don’t think so, Jessie. That’s the busiest part of the day.” Both Jessie’s and Sarah’s faces fell in disappointment. “But I’ll try,” she added quickly. Sarah’s birthday party was all Markus had talked about the entire week. “If there’s any way at all, I’ll be there.”
A gunshot rang out from three buildings down, startling Chase’s horses and sending Hannah’s heart careening in her chest. Shouting came from inside the saloon. Chase pulled back, settling the team in their traces, a scowl on his face. “Albert needs to hire another deputy. You had better get out of the street, Hannah. Today is busier than most.”
She waved. “Be sure to have some of Maude’s walnut fudge. She made up a triple batch and has a ta
ble set up in the park. If I can sneak away at lunchtime, I will. Mother will meet you in the festival grounds at noon with Markus.”
Hannah hurried back inside. Every table was filled, and people still waited for a seat. “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting,” she said to the older man and woman at the table. They looked prosperous.
“That’s no problem,” the man said. “We’re in no hurry.” He wore a suit, and a cane rested against his knee. His hair was white, and round silver spectacles rested on the bridge of his nose.
“You’re new to town?”
“Yes, came in on the stage yesterday and have a room here in the hotel. We had no idea today was a day of celebration. If we’d known there was going to be a train line coming to Logan Meadows, Bridget and I would have opted for that. Six weeks on the stage is a bit too long for our aging bones.”
“And a bit too dusty,” the woman added softly. She had an elegant beauty about her that had nothing to do with her tailored green-and-white chiffon dress and stylish little hat. Her eyes all but glowed with gentle kindness.
“Six weeks.” Hannah sucked in a deep breath. “That’s a long trip. Where were you traveling from?”
The woman smiled over to her husband, and his head tipped slightly as if they had a wonderful secret. “Santa Fe, New Mexico.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Jake followed along behind Gabe, feeling tense. Noon had arrived, and the crowd gathered in the festival grounds now spilled down the narrow road toward the depot, waiting anxiously for the arrival of the Union Pacific. The train, overdue by ten minutes, had a four-hour stop planned, giving everyone a chance to tour the train and enjoy the celebration in Logan Meadows.
Before the Larkspur Blooms Page 19