by Kit Morgan
Cutty
Prairie Grooms, Book Eight
By
Kit Morgan
ANGEL CREEK PRESS
Cutty (Prairie Grooms, Book Eight)
by Kit Morgan
© 2016 Kit Morgan
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without permission in writing from the publisher. All characters are fictional. Any resemblances to actual people or livestock are purely coincidental.
Cover design by Angel Creek Press, The Killion Group and Hotdamndesigns.com
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License Note
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Table of Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Epilogue
Second chances. They are elusive and fickle at times. But second chances are out there, waiting to be grasped by those seeking them. They just need to remember that for most, they are not easy to come by. For without growth and change, we cannot attain them.
One
Clear Creek, Oregon, September, 1861
“So, when are you going to tell them?”
Cutty looked at her. “Tell ‘em what?”
She looked him right in the eye. “Come now, Thackary. You know as well as I that eventually you’re going to have to let them know who you really are.”
Cutty froze, sandwich in hand, and stopped breathing.
Imogene studied him with a calm he didn’t expect. “And of course Newton as well. But they’re all that need know.” Her gaze returned to Amon and Nettie.
Cutty swallowed hard, twice, with tears in his eyes. “Imogene,” he choked. His Western accent was gone, replaced by his native one. He quickly glanced around. “How long have you known?”
“I’m glad you’re not trying to deny it,” she said without looking at him. “I wasn’t entirely sure at first. You were so crass and ill-mannered as ‘Cutty.’ But when I said I was married at one time, you looked jealous. The truth is, I never was. I just wanted to see your reaction.” She sighed. “A woman never forgets a lost love. Not even after so many years.”
“Lost love?” he whispered. “I never knew you in England …”
“No,” she turned to face him. “But as a young girl, I knew you, or at least wanted to. Of course, you never gave me a second thought – I was just a child.”
He choked, his eyes brimming with tears. “Imogene … I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’ve been such a terrible person.”
“Thackary Holmes wasn’t always terrible. And after he became that way, I’m glad that in the end, he decided to become a better man.”
“Imogene, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I’m in love with an old, battered, humbled wreck of a man, just as I was as a silly girl. A man who I can see loves his children very, very much.”
Cutty sniffled, wiped his eyes and glanced around again, then took a rag from his pocket and blew his nose with it. “I ain’t ready to tell ‘em,” he said, speaking as Cutty again.
“You’ll know when it’s time.”
“You … ya ain’t gonna tell nobody, are ya?”
“No, Cutty. I ain’t gonna tell nobody,” she said, mimicking his accent.
“On what condition?” he asked.
Her eyebrows rose at that. “What makes you think there’s a condition?”
“’Cause that no-good worthless Thackary … well, I figured he probably did you wrong somewhere too, and now you want to see him get what’s comin’ to him.”
“No, he didn’t – not to me. And as far as I’m concerned, Thackary Holmes no longer exists. There’s only Cutty.” She took one of his hands and held it. “And that’s the man I love.”
His eyes widened. “Imogene, ya ain’t just sayin’ that?”
She looked somewhat affronted. “I don’t say something unless I mean it.”
“And ya ain’t gonna tell no one? Not even the Cookes?”
“Who you really are, or rather were, is not mine to tell.”
He looked away, then back again. “Imogene Sayer … I love ya.”
“Yes,” she agreed with pride. “I know.”
He glanced around yet again, leaned toward her and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.
She smiled and blushed. “So, do you …” she looked at him. “Want to get hitched, as they say here in America?”
His mouth dropped open. “Are you askin’ me to marry ya?”
“Is that a problem?”
“No, it’s just that it’s usually the other way ‘round.”
“Oh, that’s far too boring. I like adventure, you know that.”
His eyes widened. “Well, I think I’ve had more’n enough adventure to last me a while.” He looked at Amon and Nettie.
Imogene sighed. “I suppose you have. But you still need to tell them.”
“Maybe I’ll tell ‘em after we get hitched. How’s that sound?”
She considered it for a moment. Then she smiled, kissed him on the nose and rested her forehead against his own. “That sounds fine, Cutty. Just fine.”
Two weeks later …
Cutty sat, his conversation with Imogene as fresh in his mind as on the day they’d had it. But he still hadn’t told his children who he was. “Dagnabit, anyway!” he groused. “Why does that woman put me in these situations?”
Except Imogene hadn’t put him there; he had. She’d asked him to marry her, then told him it was fine to wait and tell his children his true identity after the wedding. Only now there wasn’t going to be one. How on earth did his life get so turned upside down in such a short time? “’Cause that darn fool woman cain’t make up her mind, that’s why!”
Imogene had changed it, deciding he needed to tell them who he was before – not after – they got hitched. Something about letting them get used to the idea of who he really was before she came into the picture as a stepmother …
“I suppose it makes sense,” he muttered to himself. “But I don’t hafta like it!” Of course, telling Nettie and Newton he was, in reality, the notorious Thackary Cuthbert Holmes-turned-Cutty the drifter wasn’t going to be easy. They hated Thackary, but loved Cutty. How were they going to reconcile themselves to the two? Or was it one? Even Cutty wasn’t sure anymore …
“Hey there, Cutty!” Ryder called from atop his horse.
Cutty glanced up. “What’re ya doin’ in town?”
“I come to see Amon about makin’ Constance some furniture for the place,” he said as he dismounted. He led his big black stallion Othello to a nearby hitching post and wrapped the reins around it a few times, then joined Cutty on the steps of the mercantile. “How ya been?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“Ya don’t sound okay.”
“What business is it of yers how I sound?” he snapped,
then caught himself. “I mean, I guess I ain’t sure. How’m I supposed to answer a question like that when I ain’t got one?”
Ryder gaped at him. “Calm down – all I wanted was to see how ya are. Friendly-like, too. Ya don’t have to go and bite my head off for it.”
Cutty waved a hand at him and scowled. “Have ya been out to Amon and Nettie’s yet?”
“Nah, I was just passin’ through here first. Constance wanted me to drop a note off at the mercantile for her.”
“Note?”
“It’s for everyone out at the Triple-C. She wants to have some kind of fancy supper at our place.”
That got Cutty’s attention. He grimaced and narrowed his one good eye at him. “Fancy supper? What’s that wife of yers thinkin’? As far out of town as you live, won’t everyone hafta spend the night?”
“We ain’t that far out. Course, I suppose a lot depends on the weather …”
Cutty faced front again. “I suppose.”
“You’ll come too, won’t ya?”
“Me? What do ya want me there for?”
“’Cause you’re part of the family, that’s why.”
Cutty slowly turned, his face expressionless. “M-m-me? Family? I ain’t yer kin, Ryder.”
“We’ve been through thick and thin, you and me. Far as I’m concerned, that makes us family.”
Cutty swallowed hard. “I … I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll come. She’s plannin’ it for next week.”
Cutty grumbled to himself, then said, “Oh, all right.”
Ryder slapped him on the back. “I knew ya’d say yes!”
“Then why even ask if’n ya already knew?”
“How else ya gonna know about it?” Ryder asked with a smile.
Cutty glared at him again. “Smarty-pants.”
“Speakin’ of pants, I need me a new pair. Best get some ‘fore I head over to Amon’s. Won’t take a minute,” he said as he patted Cutty on the shoulder and got up.
Cutty watched him saunter up the steps and into the mercantile. “Fancy dinner … what’s that woman of his thinkin’?” he muttered. “No fancy folks around here to go to no fancy dinners.”
He sighed. He’d been to his share of banquets and balls before coming to America. He’d dreamed of having a few here before returning to England to take over the Stantham estate as the new duke. But that was then, this was now – and now he knew he wasn’t fit to take over a duchy. Duncan Cooke was the best man for the job – he (or rather, Thackary Holmes) would have made a hash of it. “Thank the Lord I never got my hands on any of it!”
“Talking to yourself again, Cutty?”
He looked up into the face of Colin Cooke. “Oh, it’s you,” he said gruffly.
“Get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?” Colin asked cheerfully.
“What’s it to ya?”
“My my, you did roll off the wrong side. Tell me, what has you in such a sour mood?”
“Ya mean more’n usual?” Cutty shot back.
Colin studied him. “Did you and Imogene have a … disagreement?”
“No!”
Colin held his hands up in front of him. “Whoa, no need to get upset, I wanted to see if I could help.”
“Well, ya cain’t! So there!”
Colin blinked at him a few times. “I see. I’ll be tending to my business then and leave you to whatever it is you were … well, stewing – I mean, doing.”
“I weren’t doin’ nothin’!” Cutty barked, then blew out a long breath. “Ryder’s in there. He’s got somethin’ for ya.”
Colin nodded as he ascended the porch steps. “Thank you for telling me,” he said, then glanced over his shoulder at him. “I think.”
Cutty waved a dismissive hand after him and scowled. This whole business had him in a foul mood, no denying it. The problem was he still didn’t know what to do about it, other than the obvious. Just tell them.
He sighed, propped his elbows on his knees and stared at the street. What few people were in town called out greetings to him and waved. He half-heartedly waved back and wished Ryder would hurry up so they could get going. He didn’t feel like visiting with anyone. He watched Grandma and Doc Waller leave their house up the street, climb into their wagon and head out of town. “I wonder where they’re off to.” Regardless, it meant there were two less people in town to pester him.
But maybe he needed pestering. He wasn’t getting the job done on his own – perhaps a push would help. Yet admitting that didn’t make him feel better. The only person who could was Imogene … and unfortunately, she wasn’t speaking to him at the moment.
* * *
Imogene Sayer studied her reflection in a hand mirror. “Tigers fear you, remember that.” Her reflection didn’t look convinced.
She put the mirror on the vanity and drummed her fingers against its surface. Two weeks had gone by and Cutty still hadn’t said a word to his children. She wanted to call him a coward, but she couldn’t. In truth, she was as bad as he. She wanted him to tell Newton and Nettie who he really was before they were married so she could be sure he’d changed.
She loved him, yes – that was the problem. What if he reverted back to the man he once was? What if he was still capable of doing the sorts of things Thackary Holmes would do? A chill skittered up her spine and she shuddered. “He’s a changed man, I’m sure of it,” she said aloud, hoping to convince herself. But something nagged at her and she’d faltered when it came to following through with marrying him before he told them.
“Imogene, you’re no better than Thackary. You’re a coward.” There, she’d said it. She supposed that if the shoe was on the other foot and she was the one with two long lost children (now grown) that she’d be having the same struggle. Not to mention the same fear.
And if there was one thing Imogene Sayer knew, it was fear. She’d feared abandonment by her father years ago. She’d feared death. But most of all, she’d feared she’d fall in love again. And now she had. Worse still, it was with the same man she fell in love with the first time.
“Whatever am I to do?” she mused. Perhaps she should talk to Cutty about it. Maybe she could even be there with him when he did the deed … “Good heavens, you don’t have to make it sound so dire …”
“Imogene?”
She spun to the half-open door. “Yes?”
Sadie opened it wider. “Supper’s ready.”
“Oh, thank you. I’ll be right down.”
Sadie glanced around the room. “I thought I heard you talking to someone.”
“You did. Me. A bad habit of mine.”
Sadie laughed. “You and Cutty are so alike. Constance and Ryder say he talks to himself all the time too.”
Imogene’s mouth curved into a smile. “Yes, he does, the old coot.”
“Which makes me wonder,” Sadie said. “Why haven’t you gone into Clear Creek to see him lately? It’s not like you to hang around the ranch like this.”
Imogene stood. “I … I’ve been thinking a lot.”
Sadie came into the room. “About what?”
“All sorts of things. The girls in my charge are married now. You and your family are doing well …”
“You aren’t thinking of leaving, are you?” Sadie asked in a rush.
“Heavens, no. But things have changed.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not now – I still have things to sort out. When I’ve decided to do something, I’ll let the family know.”
Sadie studied her a moment. “Are you lonely?”
“Lonely? With you and everyone else in this house? How could I possibly be lonely?”
Sadie went to her. “No, I mean without the girls here. Lena, Fina and Apple filled this house too, you know.”
“And now they fill their own houses. They’ve no more need for me.”
Sadie went to the vanity and absently picked up the mirror. “They will always need a guiding hand. They’re young
, as are Penelope, Constance and Eloise. Belle and I as well, for that matter. None of us want to see you go.”
“Who said I was going anywhere? Dash it all, stop putting words in my mouth!”
Sadie smiled. “I’ll do my best. Now let’s go down to supper.” She put down the mirror and headed for the door. Imogene followed, and once downstairs took her usual spot at the dining room table.
“Cousin Imogene,” Harrison greeted. “Colin brought a note home from Constance. Seems she’s planning her first party.”
“A party, you say?” Imogene said. “At her house? Good grief! Has the girl lost her wits?”
Belle sat next to Colin. “She wants to entertain like any other woman. I say we oblige her.”
“It’s one dinner,” Colin said. “I’m sure we can find a way to make it work.”
“How many guests is she planning to have?” Imogene asked. “Her home is so tiny, from what I understand. Where will we … oh dear, does she even have a table?”
“Yes, I’ve seen it myself,” Sadie said. “But it seats two. I don’t see how she can manage it unless she has us eat outside.”
“It’s getting a bit chilly for that, don’t you think?” Colin said. He looked at the grand dining table before him. “Maybe she’s thinking of holding this dinner in the barn?”
“Nonsense,” Imogene snapped. “Whoever heard of such a thing?”
“May I remind you, dear cousin,” Harrison said, “that this is Constance we’re talking about.”
“Well … yes, of course. But even so, the girl’s not that daft.” Her eyes darted to each of them. “Unless you’re not telling me something.”
“Our dear cousin Constance’s mental faculties are intact,” Colin assured. “I think she’s lonely out at her place, that’s all. Can’t say as I blame her. When was the last time any of us went out there?”