Winter Winds of Wyoming

by Fyffe, Caroline

  “Ya know it ain’t that, girlie,” Violet said, a bit softer this time.

  Adaline touched Courtney’s shoulder. “Daisy penciled you in to work at the laundry this afternoon about one o’clock. Jessie said she’d watch the children.”

  Courtney dipped her chin. “Whatever works for everyone else is fine with me.”

  She was all smiles now that her sister had rescued her, Tyler noted. He had to find a way to get through and talk some sense into her.

  “One o’clock is enough time to go home and do a few tasks and then come back,” Courtney added. She slid her gaze to him but didn’t smile. “Marlene’ll be there to show me the ropes, right?”

  “She will. I think you’ll be ironing. The work’s not hard, just tedious.”

  Violet nodded. “That’s what Marlene’s said since the day she started. Mindless work gives ya time to solve the mysteries of life.”

  “Anything you worked out is perfectly fine with me,” Courtney said. “I won’t complain a bit.”

  Of course she wouldn’t complain, Tyler thought, smoldering inside. The schedule gave her an easy way to avoid him. He’d be on the ranch, and she’d be in town.

  “Good then,” Courtney said. “It’s all settled. Did Jessie leave for the ranch without me?”

  “Not at all. She’s waiting with the children in the buggy while I round you up. She thought you’d want to go home and change. Then she’ll arrange a way for you to get back. They’re right outside.”

  Courtney stood and ran her hands down her skirt. “Goodbye, Tyler. Thank you for the cup of coffee.”

  They needed to resolve the situation. He stood, too. “I’ll walk you to the buggy.”

  Courtney’s eyes flashed dangerously, but she kept a smile on her lips. “No need. The buggy’s across the street. I’m sure you have things to do.”

  They locked eyes.

  “I don’t.”

  “Fine,” Adaline finally said, shrugging. “Violet and I are grabbing a quick bite to eat and then we’re off.”

  Courtney had already started for the door.

  He’d have to hurry to catch her before she reached the buggy. And then he’d only have half a second to say what needed saying. He placed payment beside his plate. “Take our table.” With that, he was out the door. “Courtney, wait!”

  She was just stepping into the road.

  Jessie sat in the driver’s seat of the buggy with the two little ones beside her.

  Would Courtney stop?

  Courtney turned. “I know you’re only trying to help, Tyler, but I wish you wouldn’t. You can’t do anything. I’d appreciate you minding your own business.”

  What in the devil did she mean? Was she so far gone she had no choices at all? He stifled the urge to grasp her by the arms and give her a good shake. “No doubt. But I beg to differ. Something can always be done.” He disliked the defeated look on her face. “The question is, are you brave enough to try? Nothing of value is ever easy—and especially not when your reputation hangs in the balance.”

  She blanched.

  He wished he could take back his words and say them a bit more softly, but he had to get through, and this was the only way he knew how.

  “What do you know?” she whispered, and then glanced over her shoulder at Jessie, a red stain creeping up her neck. “Jake promised not to tell a soul. I’ll not forgive him until the day I die.”

  A stone dropped in Tyler’s belly. His suspicions were true! Wil Lemon had compromised Courtney and now blackmailed her with the threat of exposure. He’d kill the black-hearted piece of beetle dung with his bare hands—and enjoy every second! Did Jake know what was going on? He wholeheartedly doubted. Jake wouldn’t stand for such evil shenanigans with his youngest sister. “Jake hasn’t said a word. I put two and two together and figured things on my own.”

  Courtney’s gaze searched his for several long seconds as the meaning of his words sank in. Then her face crumbled. “Fine, so now you know. Go and get away from me, a fallen woman, before I taint such a good, upstanding man as yourself. You’re always talking about your father and all his honesty lessons. The importance of a good reputation and responsibility for one’s actions. I’d hate to see his expression if he was faced with the likes of me.” She flung one arm wide. “Get out of my sight. I know you want to.”

  She turned and bolted for the buggy on the other side of the road just as he opened his mouth to reply. A surprised-looking Jessie and the children, already seated inside, watched as Courtney lifted her skirt and scrambled onto the bench beside them. A moment later, they were off.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Let me fix you something to eat, Violet. Scramble some eggs or make some mush to fortify your old bones. The bags under your eyes resemble cornsacks.”

  Violet glared up at Marlene from her chair by the Red Rooster’s warm hearth. “And ya don’t look like no princess yerself, ya ol’ she-goat. I jist ate at the café.”

  Marlene gasped and whirled to glance at Adaline, who’d just returned with another throw to place over Violet’s legs.

  During the walk home, she’d begun to tremble uncontrollably, more than what the weather had caused. Adaline was worried.

  “See what I put up with? I was just being nice. She’s reverted back to her not-so-charming self. Reminds me of my arrival in Logan Meadows. I can’t abide her sassy tongue, especially when I’m being nice. I never told you, Adaline, but she threatened to change me into a salamander and fling me under the stagecoach horses.”

  “And you were stupid enough to think I was capable, too,” Violet said on a cough, and then cackled. “Thought I was a witch with powers to hex ya. Yer face screwed up tight, and ya got all sweaty. I sure had some good laughs at yer’en expense. The saloon girl–mother looking for her son. Ha!” Violet shook her head. “That’s a crock of sour milk.”

  Adaline wondered at Violet’s nasty attack. Usually cranky but loveable, Violet wasn’t typically downright mean to the people she loved. Or even the ones she didn’t love, as in the case of Beth Fairington. She’d given Beth miles and miles of chances, overlooking her harsh words, rolling eyes, and lazy ways. Everyone wondered how she put up with her for so long. And now, this attack on Marlene was uncalled for. No matter how the two women’s association had started, no one doubted Violet now loved Jake’s mother. The two had been living together for months. The water under the bridge had long since cleared away the hurt and hard feelings to a beautiful friendship. At least, that was what Adaline had thought. Why was Violet treating Marlene this way now?

  Adaline placed a calming hand on Marlene’s arm in time to feel Jake’s mother bristle. Being careful not to incur Violet’s wrath, she arranged the throw over her bony knees.

  “Don’t mollycoddle her, Adaline,” Violet snapped. “Marlene’s had a full night’s sleep and still acts like a long-nosed busybody—reminds me all too much of Beth...” She jerked her gaze to the crackling flames in the hearth as her eyes filled with tears.

  Adaline went down on one knee and took Violet’s hand. No matter how the old woman acted or what she said, she missed Beth and felt poorly about the blowup. Angry words never did anyone any good and were sure to cause the opposite. Alarming heat radiated up through Adaline’s fingers.

  “Violet, you’re boiling hot.” Adaline placed the back of her hand on Violet’s forehead. “Burning.” She gently took a hold of her thin upper arms and drew her to her feet. “Come on, you’re going to bed this instant. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  Marlene bustled forward, all the animosity stamped on her face only moments before, vanished.

  Violet tried to pull back. “Leave me be. Can’t an ol’ worn out biddy sit in peace?”

  “No!” Marlene snapped. “You can’t. You’re going to bed this instant, just like Adaline said.”

  Adaline exchanged a glance with Marlene. Had Jake’s mother heard people in town were sick with influenza, and Dr.
Thorn and Hannah Donovan were both down with the illness? Those two were both strong and healthy—and young! What would happen to Violet?

  Violet struggled a moment, and then calmly complied like an orphan lamb. Why hadn’t Adaline noticed sooner? The poor thing. She should have been in bed last night, not staying up all hours delivering a baby determined to come out feet first.

  In Violet’s bedroom, Marlene steadied her while Adaline rushed forward and drew back the quilt and sheets. They assisted her to a sitting position, and Adaline worked the buttons on the front of her dress.

  Violet tried to slap her hands away but after one try, was too weak.

  In only moments, the dress was gently lifted over her head and then the three petticoats she wore for warmth were the next items to go. Adaline left her wool socks and then assisted Marlene to lower her flannel nightdress over her shoulders.

  “Don’t be shocked when ya see I don’t wear no corset no more,” she mumbled to no one in particular, her face flushed and eyes glazed. “No need, once yer my age, none a’tall. Just leave me be, girls. I’m so sleepy.”

  “I’ll go for Dr. Thorn,” Marlene whispered when they were done.

  Violet lay quietly with the sheet pulled up to her chin, more than enough warmth with her temperature, even in the cold December weather.

  Adaline smoothed the quilt folded on the end of the bed. “Haven’t you heard? Dr. Thorn is sick. And Hannah, too. That’s why we delivered Mrs. Ling’s child and not the doctor. Jessie and the children were exposed. Daisy came by to see Bao, as well. And what about Bao and the baby?” And Dalton. And the whole of the café. Why did we stop to eat? We should have come directly home. She glanced at Marlene, searching her face. “I’m frightened.”

  Marlene’s solemn expression never wavered. “We have no time to be frightened. How’re you feeling, Adaline? You’ve been with Violet the longest.” She reached over and touched Adaline’s forehead. “Do you have any stomach pains or a headache?”

  The trace of Marlene’s cool fingers felt good. “I’m absolutely fine.” She glanced at Violet on the bed. She hadn’t moved since they’d laid her back and put the sheet over her. “We have a dear friend who needs us.” She went to the water pitcher for a wet washcloth to wipe Violet’s face.

  “I’ll make some chicken broth straight away,” Marlene mumbled. “This poor little hen needs some nutrition and love. That’s something I can do right now. As well as heat water for willow bark tea. Do you know anything about her herbal remedies? I must confess, whenever Violet starts going on and on, I head for my room. Now I wish I’d listened. I believe she might have something called purple cornflower for fever, but I couldn’t identify it from others.”

  “I’m sorry to say I don’t know, either. But I’ll look through and see if anything is labeled. I did overhear Jessie speaking well about sassafras root tea for such. We need to get word to Dr. Thorn to see what he can tell us and also alert Jessie. She’s Violet’s oldest and dearest friend… as well as Beth Fairington.”

  They exchanged a long glance. Violet and Beth hadn’t spoken since Violet had thrown her out of the Red Rooster.

  “What do you think? Should I tell her as well?” she whispered close to Marlene’s ear. “Violet might be sicker than we know. God forbid, the worst happens and she dies without a chance to make amends.”

  “You’re right. I know Violet, and that wouldn’t sit well with her. She always says she wants to be shiny and bright when she meets her maker. Tomorrow’ll be four days, and Violet hasn’t been her old self since the fight. I thought the whole thing would have blown over by now.”

  Violet tried to struggle to an elbow but sagged back onto her mattress. “I’m going home today, gals. Up ta Jesus and my heavenly reward. Don’t cry over my grave too long. I’ll be singing and dancing with my Savior.” She gazed around and then her smile faded. “Where am I, anyway? I don’t recognize this room.”

  Adaline knelt beside the bed and gently took Violet’s fragile hand, frightened at the heat.

  “You’re not going home just yet. You’re still on earth in your room at the Red Rooster, where you’ll be tomorrow and the months to come. You’re stuck with us for a while longer, no angels or fluffy white clouds yet.”

  A sheen of perspiration shone on Violet’s forehead.

  “I have a say in this,” Violet sputtered. “I’m goin’ home in time for Christmas! Stop hangin’ onta me. We all go sooner or later. I’m so tired I can’t lift another foot.” She reached over and patted Adaline’s arm. “But remember ta feed my chickens when I’m gone. In this weather, those critters can’t go without scratch for long.”

  “You’re not dying, Violet, so just be quiet,” Marlene groused. “You’re scaring Adaline. She doesn’t know you as well as I do. You’re tougher than a bucket of horseshoes. Stop soaking this opportunity for every ounce of sympathy.”

  Adaline needed to get word to Dr. Thorn and Jessie, but her feet felt like they’d been nailed to the floor. Violet didn’t look on death’s door quite yet, but with influenza, one never knew which breath would be the last. How in the world would scrawny little Violet get through a bout of December influenza? They could lose her in the blink of an eye.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  With a stabbing side ache after her run into town, Adaline took a moment on the mercantile’s boardwalk to catch her breath. The brisk, snow-scented air refreshed her heated skin and moist forehead. They’d needed a few items for nursing Violet, and she’d volunteered to fetch them while Marlene sat by her side.

  Adaline gulped air and let her heart settle, reading over the list she’d hastily scratched out. Quinine powder for fever. Baking soda and soda crackers to settle Violet’s stomach, more tea, and flour for baking—they were completely out, and Violet would need something substantial when she felt better—God forbid the Lord took her before then.

  The Red Rooster was just far enough out of town to make going in and out several times a day more inconvenient than a pleasure—especially in this weather. When she finished here, she’d speak with Dr. Thorn through his window, as Dalton had done, to see what else they should do for Violet. Right now, she did nothing more than sleep with a cold cloth on her brow.

  To her left, the lunchtime crowd moved in and out of the Silky Hen. To her right and down the street, the Christmas tree stood tall against the slate-gray sky—promising snow.

  Gabe was there, plucking a quiet Christmas carol on his guitar.

  The lilting sound pricked Adaline’s heart. She blinked away the sudden tears. Until now, she hadn’t had a moment to recall the words she’d said to Dalton last night. Would he ever speak to her again? What had she been thinking? Had she expected him to fall to one knee and proclaim his love? Pull her into his embrace and kiss her wildly? Except being the best of friends, they’d never before discussed or shared anything about their feelings or relationship. And now she’d gone and wrecked that.

  Down the street, Dalton exited the sheriff’s office, crossed to the tall tree, and began a conversation with Gabe. Townsfolk moved around town, talking, laughing. Wagons passed in the street. All she saw was Dalton.

  The door to the store opened, and Beth stepped out. “Adaline, why’re you standing out here in the cold?”

  Surprised, Adaline jerked her gaze from Dalton but not fast enough. The look in Beth’s eyes said she’d seen who Adaline was admiring. She wore a dress Adaline knew well from living together for the past weeks. A warm wool shawl wrapped her shoulders, partially covering her work apron. A lacy choker ringed her neck and was pinned with a cameo. She looked the same to Adaline, but an unusual expression shimmered in her eyes.

  “I figured the mystery man was Dalton,” she whispered coyly.

  “Dalton?” Adaline questioned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Of course, you do. The man you’re smitten with. The one you’re trying to seduce with Marlene’s advice. You needn’t pretend with me.”


  “Seduce! I’d never!” Her stomach clenched. But she had—or at least tried to flirt, which had gone nowhere. Dalton wasn’t interested.

  Beth sighed and batted her eyes. “If you say so.” Her smile returned. “And that’s good news, because I’d never want to see you hurt. Dalton’s heart is unavailable. Anyone who falls for him can only be a friend—nothing more.”

  What? Was the woman insane? Adaline’s curiosity sprang to life, overruling her good sense. “What do you mean? He’s not married.”

  Beth’s hand flew to her choker where she fingered the pin. “Married! Who said anything about being married? I guess you’re too new to town to have heard he’s in love with Susanna. Everyone knows. She broke his heart not that long ago. I’m sure, with such a fresh wound, he’s still mooning over his loss. Why do you think Albert whisked his wife out of town at Christmastime like he did? Perhaps he didn’t want Dalton between them their first year as man and wife. Or maybe not. I don’t know.”

  Adaline gazed back at Dalton. “Susanna Preston?” The name was barely a whisper.

  “Susanna Robinson, then. She and Dalton grew up together in Breckenridge, Colorado. He’s loved her for most his life. Albert feared he’d lose her to Dalton. So did Winthrop, Albert’s brother. Ask him, if you don’t believe me. I’m sure he’ll tell you the whole story. The scuttlebutt circulated around town for months. Some say the train crash, bringing Dalton to town to reunite them, was his destiny.”

  Adaline stared at Beth, the words she’d just spoken clanging around her heart.

  Susanna Robinson Preston…destiny…in love…

  “Better yet, ask Violet. She caught the two men in a fistfight under Shady Creek bridge, going at each other like schoolboys. You should have seen their faces when they got finished with each other.”

  Dalton and Albert? She felt weak in the knees.

  The door opened again, and Maude stuck out her head. “What in tarnation are you two jabbering about out there? Get in here before you catch your death!” She held the door wide.