This was going to be home. He looked at Jack and Alice, both of whom were gazing uncertainly at the building. Logan drew in a deep breath. He was determined to make their stay as short as possible.
The front door flew open and a woman aged in her fifties came rushing out. She wore an elegant, high-necked gray gown, edged with white, lace fringes. Logan recognized Miss Hannigan from his earlier days as Inspiration's resident troublemaker. The silver-haired woman thrust open the garden gate. Her bright green eyes took in the sight of Logan and the children.
"Logan Kincaid. I expected you yesterday." Miss Hannigan's voice quivered with emotion. "What happened?"
Stepping down from the buckboard seat, Logan smiled at Miss Hannigan. "We got held up. I'll tell you about it later."
Miss Hannigan lifted a brow. "That sounds mysterious." Jack and Alice leaped down from the buckboard. "And these must your lovely children," Miss Hannigan declared.
Logan made the introductions and polite handshakes were exchanged. He knew he'd have to get used to introducing the children. He figured everyone in town who'd known him in the past would be curious about Jack and Alice. He'd already made his mind up introductions wouldn't be accompanied by any explanations. Jack and Alice were his children now, and everyone would just have to accept that fact.
Miss Hannigan led them all into the boardinghouse. Logan carried a large carpetbag. Pausing in the hallway, Logan took in the sight of the large staircase leading to the upper floor. The interior of the house was wood. Floorboards and walls were of a deep mahogany color. The floorboards shone from recent cleaning. There was a scent of flowers in the air. Logan's first impression was that the house was homely and welcoming.
Voices drifted out of double open doors to his right, but Logan just wanted to get the children and himself upstairs. Miss Hannigan led the way to the upper floor. At the end of the corridor, she opened a door and shooed everyone into the room. Inside, Logan put the carpetbag down onto a richly-patterned carpet. A double bed took up most of the room. A large wardrobe stood alongside a bureau and single chair. A dressing table and mirror was set against the wall near the window.
Logan looked quizzically at Miss Hannigan. Did she expect them all to live in the one room? As if reading his mind, Miss Hannigan swept past Logan and back out into the corridor. Thrusting open a door immediately opposite Logan's, Miss Hannigan made an imperious gesture with her hand. "This is your room, children," she declared.
Alice and Jack raced into the room. Logan followed them in and halted by Miss Hannigan's side. There were two single beds, a wardrobe and two chairs by a table at the window. Logan considered there was enough room for Jack and Alice. Although, he figured if they had to spend long hours up in the room, the children might find it confining. But, as he'd told himself so many times before. this arrangement was only temporary. He knew he'd have to keep reminding himself of that fact. If he was going to get through the next few weeks, he couldn't allow himself to forget it.
Jack and Alice sat down on the edge of their beds. Both of them bounced up and down, testing the beds.
"You'll be wanting to bring your things up, I suppose," Miss Hannigan suggested.
Logan nodded. "We've got what we need."
"I hope you're happy here," Miss Hannigan said. "I know you don't plan on staying long, Logan."
He'd explained everything in his letter. "I'm sure this will be fine, Miss Hannigan."
She looked at the children with bright eyes. "It's so lovely to have the little ones here. We don't often have children staying in our house." There was a hint of longing in Miss Hannigan's voice. Logan wondered why that could be, but he wasn't about to ask.
Miss Hannigan left the room. Logan closed the door and went to the window. At the far end of the dusty street he could see Main Street, the busy boardwalk and a steady stream of horseback riders.
Turning to Jack and Alice he gestured for them to come to the window. He held them close as all three gazed out of the window. "What do you think of the town?"
Jack looked up at him. "Bigger than I thought."
Alice frowned. "Lots of people."
Logan nodded slowly. Their verdict was brief, but to the point. "That means plenty of folks to have as friends. And lots to do."
"When do we have to go to school, pa?" Alice asked.
"I'll have to arrange a meeting with the teacher," Logan admitted. "But, I'm sure she'll have room in her class for the two of you."
Logan saw the ridges of Jack's brows deepen. He knew that Jack was worried about school, particularly about whether or not he'd fit in. "Maybe tomorrow we can take a walk over to the schoolhouse. Meet the teacher." He tugged playfully on Jack's shoulder. "How does that sound?"
Jack said nothing in response. He just nodded up at Logan. This was going take some extra work, Logan told himself.
Turning, he faced the room. "I think we can make this cozy for you." He wanted to stay positive for them. "I'll go downstairs and bring your stuff up." He smiled at them. "You take your time. Get settled in."
He knew the minute he left the room, Jack and Alice would start horse-trading to see who would have which bed. Logan hadn't brought all of their belongings. He'd left a lot of stuff back in Helena. It would be sent to Inspiration once he'd found a house for the three of them. For now, though, they all had what they needed to get through the next few weeks. And he had enough money to buy what he wanted at the mercantile.
As he made his way downstairs and out to the buckboard, he thought about what had happened over at Kirsty's homestead. He'd seen the way Abby had looked at Kirsty when she'd revealed that Logan had spent the night at the cabin. Even with the children present, Logan knew enough about how people could think that he was sure some folks might have ideas of their own about that. Logan knew there was nothing he could do about Abby thinking what she wanted.
Kirsty's cousin had seemed like the friendly type. But Logan had sensed a hint of tension between the two women homesteaders. As he started to lift one of the chests from the buckboard, he wondered just how much work Abby really did out at the homestead. She dressed elegant and her entire demeanor made Logan suspect that she might not be entirely cut out for farm work. He'd seen women like Abby before. They were more comfortable in town than in the wilds of Montana.
Walking up the stairs with the wooden chest held firmly in his grasp, Logan thought about Kirsty. Farm life suited her, he concluded. She positively glowed with health, even though he could tell she was tired. That was natural. Working a homestead was hard work. It was also rewarding. Logan had known many good people during his times working farms and ranches. They type of person who worked a homestead was usually tough and decent and hard-working. Kirsty was that kind of a woman.
However, even though she'd worked hard to keep the farmstead going, she still possessed a delicate beauty. Last night, seeing her by the moonlight, standing outside the barn, holding the rifle had awakened some feelings he'd been convinced had died a long time ago. She'd grown up since he'd last seen her. She still had that feisty quality he'd found so attractive. Logan figured she'd never lose that. But her pretty features and bright eyes still had the power to make Logan glad to be alive. It was that simple.
As he paused outside the door to the children's room, feeling the weight of the chest strain his arms, Logan asked himself how often he'd get to see the lovely owner of the homestead who lived one hour ride south of Inspiration.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Are you telling me that Lucas has asked you to marry him?" Kirsty said to Abby as she and her cousin sat at the table in the cabin.
Abby's eyelids fluttered at the very mention of Lucas Bradford, who was a handsome, twenty-five year old clerk in the town bank. He was Abby's beau, and had been courting her for the last few months. Even if Abby were to deny that Lucas had been courting her all this time, the truth was written all across Abby's red cheeks. Kirsty knew how much Lucas meant to Abby.
"Well. Has he?" Kirsty insisted gent
ly.
Abby shook her head. "Not exactly."
"What does that mean?"
Abby tilted her head. "You know what Lucas is like."
"No, I don't. I've only met him a few times in town and at the town social and when he paid that call with his boss to talk about the financing for the homestead."
Abby frowned, visibly frustrated. "He just never seems to be able to get to the point and come right out with it. I guess he's worried I might turn him down."
"You wouldn't do that," Kirsty declared. "Would you?"
Abby smiled gently. Kirsty could see a familiar look of secret delight in Abby's eyes. "He has to ask first," Abby said.
Kirsty frowned and took a sip of her coffee. It was almost lunchtime. She and Abby had been busy since Logan and the children had left. All through the morning Kirsty had guessed there was something on Abby's mind. And she'd been right. Abby had seemed preoccupied. And finally the dam had burst when they'd been attending to the chickens. Kirsty had asked Abby what was on her mind. It was then that Abby had said one word. "Lucas."
After that, Abby had fallen silent again.
Back in the cabin, Kirsty hoped she was getting closer to the truth. "Let me keep this simple," Kirsty continued. "Do you think he's going to ask for your hand?"
Abby looked suddenly serious. Her eyes gazed steadily across the table. Kirsty could see just how much this meant to Abby. When Abby nodded her head, to her surprise Kirsty felt something heavy sink in her middle. It was true, after all. Lucas intended to make Abby his wife. That realization struck Kirsty like a hammer blow. She hadn't expected Abby's confirmation of the truth to hit her so hard.
Kirsty sat back in her chair and peered across at Abby. "When do you think he'll propose?" Kirsty asked, aware that her voice was shaking slightly.
Abby sighed. "Soon. I hope." Mingled with Abby's obvious frustration, Kirsty could once again see the delight in Abby's eyes.
Kirsty lifted her gaze up to the ceiling, trying to comprehend what this might mean for her own future. It was simple, really. If Abby left to go and live in town with Lucas, as she inevitably would after marrying him, then Kirsty would have to work the homestead alone. Without any help at all. Kirsty had wondered what it would be like for her to be in sole charge of the homestead. Maybe she was about to find out.
Forcing herself to lean forward, she reached across and took Abby's hands in her own. Kirsty smiled warmly at her cousin. "I'm so happy for you," she said.
Abby's brows lifted in a line. "You are?"
Kirsty nodded vigorously. "Of course I am. You deserve to be happy. And Lucas is a fine man."
"He is," Abby responded and grinned broadly. Abby sighed. "Lucas has a real good heart. And he's a godly man, too. Goes to church every Sunday. He's steady and reliable and he has a good future at the bank." Abby lifted a brow. "Or so he tells me."
"I'm sure he does," Kirsty said. Lucas was a godly young man with prospects. What more could Abby want?
Kirsty tried not to think about her own potentially solitary future. She'd inherited the homestead from her parents. Kirsty didn't even want to think what would happen if she couldn't keep it on as a going concern. She'd seen too many homesteaders give up and sell their holdings. Many of them had moved back east. Kirsty was determined she wouldn't do that. She had to honor the memory of her parents. They'd poured everything they'd had into making the homestead what it was. She'd do anything if it meant she could hold on to the homestead.
Gazing across at Abby, Kirsty had a thought. If she herself had to marry to keep the homestead, would she do that? Even if she was prepared to do it, she couldn't think of any man who would want to come and spend the rest of his life working a homestead with Kirsty MacAnliss.
Kirsty heard the rolling of wheels from out in the yard. She had a visitor. Going outside, she saw a buckboard drawing to a halt. Instantly recognizing its driver, Kirsty called out: "Bridget. What brings you here, this morning?"
The flame-haired and broad-shouldered woman seated on the buckboard stepped down. Bridget Shaughnessy, Kirsty's neighbor to the south was a tall woman with a robust figure, perfectly suited to the demands of homesteading work. She was dressed in a plain blue gingham gown and wore a broad-brimmed hat.
Bridget's bright green eyes shimmered with good humor. She strode toward Kirsty. "Came to issue an invitation. See if you'd like to come to something special," Bridget said. Her Irish brogue was strong. It was so much stronger than Kirsty's own softened Scottish burr which had been acquired from growing up with her immigrant parents.
Kirsty had been born in America. Bridget had come to America with the intention of settling out west. Like every newcomer Kirsty had encountered in the territory, Bridget was strong-willed and determined to make the most of the new life she was building with her husband, Calum and their three children. Kirsty had known the Shaughnessy family for three years. Their enthusiasm for the homesteading life was undiminished.
"Hello, Abby," Bridget called out to Abby who was standing, arms folded, and leaning against a porch support.
Abby nodded. "Fine morning."
"It surely is," Bridget replied in a loud voice.
Bridget scooped her arm inside Kirstys and started to walk alongside her. Kirsty felt the strength of Bridget's grasp. This was a woman used to hard work. "We had a visitor yesterday," Bridget said, leaning her head closer to Kirsty.
"You did?"
Bridget nodded. Her sun-kissed pale skin was dotted with freckles after all the time she'd spent out in the open. "Someone you know."
Kirsty schooled her features. "Who?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer.
"A young man who said he knew you when you and he were growing up in town." Bridget seemed unusually excited by the revelation. "Seems like he's returning to Inspiration. Moving back permanently." There was no point in pretending she didn't know who Bridget was talking about.
"That must have been Logan," Kirsty said, trying to sound casual.
"And he had two lovely children with him."
Kirsty nodded. "Alice and Jack."
Bridget's eyes widened. "You certainly seem to know a lot about him."
"He was here, last night."
Immediately Kirsty said the words, Bridget drew to an abrupt halt and released Kirsty's arm. Facing Kirsty, Bridget asked: "Last night?"
Kirsty smiled. "All three of them stayed at my homestead. Logan said he got delayed on his way to Inspiration. So I offered to put him and the children up for the night. Those children needed the rest. Riding in the dark wasn't right."
Bridget's gaze was steady as she listened to Kirsty. Bridget took a few steps away from Kirsty and looked thoughtful for a long moment. Finally, she turned to Kirsty. "And you were here with Abby, I presume."
Kirsty shook her head. "No. Abby stayed in town, last night. You know that Marjorie Jones is about to have her baby. Abby was at Marjorie's house in town to help." Kirsty forced a smile. "Marjorie had a little boy."
Bridget grinned. "That's wonderful. Her and Tom must be so happy." Bridget's eyes narrowed. "Logan stayed the whole night?" sh asked.
Kirsty nodded. "Uh huh."
Bridget's mouth dropped open slightly. Her pale skin turned even more white. "You were alone." Her voice was measured and careful.
Kirsty understood what Bridget was suggesting. She couldn't fault Bridget for being worried on her behalf. Her neighbor was merely showing concern about Kirsty's reputation. But, in Logan's case that didn't apply. Kirsty and Logan had never been alone. The children's presence had made sure of that. "The children slept in Abby's room," Kirsty stated, trying not to mention what Bridget was suggesting.
Bridget nodded and her brows furrowed. She sighed. "I suppose you're right. The children needed shelter. And you were merely doing your Christian duty. Providing the hospitality that is our obligation." Bridget advance toward Kirsty. When she spoke, her voice was quiet. "But you must surely appreciate how it looks. At least in the eyes of som
e folks."
Kirsty met Bridget's steady gaze. "I didn't really think of it like that. My only concern was for the children."
"Logan seemed quite eager to see you again," Bridget stated. "I got the impression he was planning on paying a call on his way to town."
Kirsty wrapped her arms around her middle. That hadn't been the way Logan had portrayed events. He'd made his visit to the homestead seem accidental. Kirsty had believed him. Now she wasn't so sure. "I don't think he intended to come here. He told me he was delayed when one of the wheels on his buckboard came loose."
The corner of Bridget's mouth creased with the hint of a mischievous smile. "I'm sure that was the case," she said evenly. "I have no reason to doubt him. Calum thought Logan seemed like a good man."
"He is," Kirsty said. "I suppose he told you about the children."
Bridget frowned. "He didn't go into details. But I think I understood what he has to do. Logan has a new life ahead of him. I think he knows being a father is going to have its challenges."
Eager to change the subject away from Logan, Kirsty took Bridget by the arm. "Come into the cabin and tell me all about this exciting invitation."
As she and Bridget walked arm in arm toward the cabin, Kirsty asked herself if she had anything to worry about when it came to the subject of Logan Kincaid spending the night at her homestead.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"I sure appreciate your help, Miss Chalmers," Logan said to the town's schoolteacher as he stood on the steps of the schoolhouse. Miss Chalmers gazed down at the large group of children who were running around the schoolyard, calling out excitedly to each other. Alice and Jack were amongst the twenty regular pupils doing their best to get to know their future classmates. Jack had just been tagged in a game and he was busy chasing another child as Alice looked on, keeping her distance.
The Cowboy’s Frontier Courtship Page 4