His voice was so soft and serious. “If I did, I would’ve left town years ago, but running away would have meant they were right, so I stay.”
“I’m glad you did, otherwise, we wouldn’t have met.”
She wondered if not meeting him would have mattered in her life one way or the other. After last night, the answer was yes. “How’s your hand?”
He flexed it. “Still a bit sore, but I’ll survive.”
They viewed each other silently and she was again taken back to last night and all things they’d done and the ways he’d made her feel. He said finally, “I shouldn’t keep your brother waiting.”
“I know.”
But he seemed as reluctant to leave as she was for him to go.
“Can we have dinner together this evening?” he asked.
“I’d like that. Shall we eat here?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“Then let’s. Bring your overnight gear.”
He nodded, rose from the table, and walked to where she stood. Looking up into his eyes made last night’s lingering embers flare. He traced a light finger over her mouth and gave her a long bone-melting kiss that left her in a puddle on the floor.
“I’ll see you later,” he whispered and departed to join Colt.
Dr. Lee’s stony face didn’t invite conversation when Garrett climbed into the buggy, so as they got underway, he contented himself with the pleasurable echoes of his parting kiss, and taking in the beauty of the countryside. The trees were showing off their spring buds and awing him again with the variety: stands of pine, maple, birch. The carpenter in him noted how enjoyable working for Mr. James had been along with the feel of the wood and tools in his hands. Lee drove past flowering shrubs and eye-catching scatterings of colorful wildflowers. Off in the distance the snow-crowned mountains loomed against the blue sky.
As the buggy reached the fork in the road that led to town, Lee still hadn’t spoken. Garrett tried not to be irritated by the man’s chilly demeanor, but it was difficult. He let Spring’s brother brood for another half mile, then said, “Dr. Lee, if you have something we need to discuss, let’s do so.”
Lee viewed him for a moment before replying, “I don’t enjoy my sister being taken advantage of.”
“You know Spring better than I. Does she seem weak-minded to you?”
Garrett held his gaze.
Lee paused then looked away. “She’s not, but once you’re back East you probably won’t give her a second thought.”
“And that’s where you’re wrong. If I could stay I would, because I’d like to be in her life for a very long time.”
Lee showed surprise.
“I’m being truthful. She might not have me, but it wouldn’t be because I didn’t try. Spring’s one of the most fascinating women I’ve ever met, and it will be a long time before I forget her—if ever.”
Lee scanned his face. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Very much so. She’s not someone I’m using as a convenient amusement. Do you know about the altercation I had with Matt Ketchum at the Cales’ house last night?”
“No. What happened?”
Garrett shared the details and Lee’s face tightened. “Nasty bastard.”
Garrett agreed.
“Thanks for standing up for her.”
“You’re welcome. As I told her, I didn’t want her to mess up her fancy dress.”
Lee showed a small smile. “If she’d’ve been of a mind to retaliate that gown would’ve been the last thing on her mind. Whit said she drew her Colt on Ketchum while I was up at Rock Springs.”
“She did.”
Lee looked up from the road. “You were there?”
“I was. My first thought was to help, but she didn’t need it. Her Colt stopped Ketchum cold.”
“And yet, you’re still smitten with her?”
“I hear your wife shot you the first time you met. Yet, you married her.”
Lee chuckled, “Touché.” Lee studied him for a silent moment more as if reevaluating his former assessment of Garrett. “I’m glad we talked.”
“So am I.”
“I can say with authority that pursuing my sister is going to be akin to wrestling the wind.”
“I sense that.”
“So you’ll be returning?”
“More than likely. I have some things to tie up at home first.” He’d answered without thought but it felt right.
“If you decide being here is not for you and decide to return home, she’ll never leave the Territory to live back East.”
“I wouldn’t ask her to. I don’t want to cage her—just to be with her on whatever terms she chooses.” And it could be two weeks, two months, or two years. Of course, she’d probably feed him to a bear were he to confess this to her. When they met initially, he’d wanted to know all about her and that hadn’t changed. There were parts of herself hidden beneath her toughness he was certain she’d never shared, and he wanted to earn the opportunity to be trusted with them.
“I wish you luck, then.”
“Much appreciated. I’ll probably need it.” And he would.
Colt dropped Garrett off at the boardinghouse. He’d had a bath earlier at Spring’s, so after exchanging his suit for a clean shirt and trousers, he threw an extra fresh shirt and his shaving kit into his saddle bag and left the room. He saw Dovie in the hall.
“Oh, there you are. When you didn’t come back after the party, I was worried something had happened to you.”
“My apologies. Didn’t mean to cause concern.”
“Have you had breakfast?”
“I have. I won’t be back this evening.”
Dovie eyed him. “Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”
“You’re welcome.”
Descending the stairs, he passed Jarvis on the way up. Their eyes met. Garrett nodded a greeting, but the cold-faced businessman offered nothing in return.
Outside, Garrett set out for the short walk to Dr. Lee’s office. Unlike Jarvis, the few people on the walk acknowledged him as he passed. He wondered how many of them knew about him and Spring, but refused to dwell on the question. Their opinions didn’t matter.
Entering the office, he found Lee placing equipment and small vials into a worn black medical bag.
“Are you ready?” he asked Garrett.
“Yes. Can we stop by the livery? I want to retrieve my gelding.”
“Sure. You can either ride or trailer him to the buggy.”
“I’ll ride for now.”
Lee gave him a nod and they left to begin the rounds.
As he rode, Garrett thought back on his talk with Lee concerning Spring. Confessing his feelings about her had not been his intentions. He was usually more guarded with his intentions, another holdover from being enslaved, but the words seemed to have sprouted on their own. Yet, he’d spoken truthfully. He did want to be in Spring’s life, and although he hadn’t really considered returning to Paradise, the decision made sense.
Thanks to Porter James’s offer, he’d have a job. The town’s pace was slow and peaceful, unlike the frenetic pace of Washington. He’d saved up a bit of money with the hopes of one day moving out of his rented room, but what if he used it instead to buy a small piece of land and build a place of his own?
That possibility was exciting, and although there weren’t many people of the race around, the Lees hadn’t shared any tales of overt racial animosity or being targeted for the color of their skin. In the Territory, he might be relatively free to be himself and not constantly reminded of having to stay in his place. Jim Crow was infecting the country like a disease, and more than likely would eventually show its ugly face in places like Wyoming Territory, too, especially by men like Ketchum. Presently, however, it didn’t seem to be as virulent or as ingrained as it was back East, and for him that was also a plus. The true plus though was Spring Lee. If in the end, she decided she wanted no parts of him, he’d accept that verdict because he’d still be free to
work and live life on his own terms. Growing up enslaved, it was more than he ever thought he’d have the option to do.
The first stop on Dr. Lee’s rounds was at the home of the Taylors to check on a bull terrier named Lucky. Walking to the porch, Lee explained the reason for the visit. “Lucky picked a fight with a porcupine and lost. He had so many quills in him I didn’t think he’d survive, but he’s a tough little fellow. I came to make sure I removed all the quills, and that none of the punctures are infected.”
They were greeted at the door by Mrs. Taylor, who was short, thin, and had red hair. Her threadbare calico dress and apron indicated a woman with little wealth. Lee made the introductions.
“Nice meeting you, Mrs. Taylor,” Garrett said.
“Same here. Come on in. Silas and Lucky are in the parlor.”
Lee, carrying his medical bag, asked, “How’s Lucky doing?”
“Limping a bit, but healing. I swear that dog is really a cat. He has nine lives just like one.”
Garrett guessed the red-haired freckled-faced Silas to be about ten years old, and upon seeing Dr. Lee the boy smiled widely. “Hello, Dr. Lee.”
“How are you, Silas?”
“I’m fine.”
“How’s Lucky?”
The black-and-white terrier was lying in a large basket atop a pile of blankets. At Lee’s approach he shrank back and whimpered. Silas stroked the dog’s back. “It’s okay, Luck. Doc Lee just wants to make sure you’re healing up right.”
Lee hunkered down by the basket. “Removing those quills caused him a lot of pain. I understand why he’s a little wary of me.”
While Garrett and Mrs. Taylor looked on, Lee gently examined the dog’s wounds. Garrett saw the small reddish patches that covered Lucky from nose to tail.
Lee said, “Looks like you’ve been taking real good care of him, Silas.”
“I’ve been putting the salve on him like you showed me. He’s still having trouble eating because of the quills that were stuck in his mouth.”
Garrett was surprised by that. Mrs. Taylor told him, “You should’ve seen him, Mr. McCray. We couldn’t tell where the quills ended, and Lucky began. It was terrible.”
Colt added, “But once again, he lived up to his name.”
Silas smiled. “I didn’t think anything could be worse than him taking on One Eye.”
Colt replied, “Me, either.” He stood. “Okay. He’s healing up well. Lucky, no more cougars and definitely no more porcupines.”
Lucky whimpered as if agreeing.
“Silas, keep putting the salve on him, and give him soft things to eat.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is he having any other problems?”
“No, sir.”
Colt looked to Mrs. Taylor for verification, and she agreed with her son. “Nothing else that I can see.”
“Good. I’ll be back to check on him next week.”
Mrs. Taylor escorted them to the door. “Thanks, Doc. Nice meeting you, Mr. McCray.”
Walking back to the buggy and the gelding, Garrett asked, “Lucky tangled with a cougar?”
“Yes, last year, and saved Silas’s life. One Eye’s claws ripped open Lucky’s rib cage, but he lived up to his name. He’s a very lucky dog.”
Garrett thought the tale would be a great addition to his story on the doctor. He mounted up. “Where to next?”
“Ed Prescott. Life-long friend, and Spring’s business partner. He’s also an engineer. We all grew up together. A mare of his lost a foal while I was in Rock Springs. Ed does a good job of doctoring his animals but wants me to check the mare, too, just as a precaution.”
Garrett was anxious to meet the man. He assumed Spring held him in high esteem if they were partners. Of course, being a male, Garrett fleetingly wondered if the two had ever been lovers, but put that out of his mind because it was really none of his business. He did envy the fact that Prescott obviously knew more about Spring than Garrett ever would.
As Garrett rode beside the buggy through the gates of the Prescotts’ Sweet Heart Ranch, he was impressed by the dozens of horses of all sizes and coat colors filling the vast pens. Some galloped while others milled about. The tall brown-skinned man who waved and walked to meet them as they arrived had long raven-black hair braided down his back.
Colt made the introductions. “Ed Prescott, this is Garrett McCray. He’s a newspaper reporter from back East. McCray, my good friend, Ed Prescott.”
Garrett shook his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Same here.”
It was Garrett’s first encounter with what the back-East papers called an Indian, and nothing about him fit what he’d read; not his speech, manner, or college training. Given how slanderous and insulting the press often portrayed the Colored race, he was again humbled that he’d even considered their reporting to be truthful.
As he followed the two men to the barn to see the mare, Prescott’s home came into view and its grand beauty took his breath away. Built with timber, boulders, and more glass than Garrett had ever seen employed on a residence before, he wanted to immediately quiz Prescott about its construction and design. However, his curiosity wasn’t the point of the visit and he didn’t know the man well enough to pump him with questions. Maybe sometime in the future he would.
“She’s still grieving,” Ed said as he and Garrett watched Lee examine the black-maned chestnut mare named Maribelle. Ed added, “She wouldn’t let me remove the foal’s body until last night, and she won’t leave the stall.”
Garrett had never known horses grieved.
Lee asked about Maribelle’s bodily functions and appetite since the stillbirth, and Prescott supplied the answers. After a few more questions and further examination, Lee stepped back and put his instruments away. “Physically, I’d say she’s okay. You know to keep her away from the stallions for the time being. See if you can get her out into the fresh air. Might help with the grieving.”
“Will do.” Prescott walked over, gave the mare a long hug, spoke softly to her, and they all left the barn.
Prescott asked Garrett, “How long are you going to be with us?”
“Just a few more days.”
“Nice meeting you.”
“Same here.”
Lee climbed into the buggy and Garrett mounted his gelding. “Where to now?”
“Hog farmer Sol Boyer’s place. One of his sow’s impacted.”
Garrett was confused. “How do you treat that?”
“Usually with an enema.”
Garrett’s eyes widened. He’d never heard of such a thing. “Is this something I want to see?”
Lee chuckled. “Probably not,” he said, and set the buggy in motion.
He was right. The sight and stench tied to the pig’s relief played such havoc with Garrett’s own insides, he quickly sought cover behind a nearby tree and lost his breakfast.
Later, after the visit ended, he and Lee walked to the waiting buggy and gelding. “Are you okay?” Lee asked.
Still woozy, Garrett replied, “Honestly? No.”
Garrett smiled and lightly clapped him on the back. “You’ll be fine. Welcome to the world of the country doctor.”
“Where to next?” Garrett asked.
“Back to town. We’re done for the day.”
Filled with relief, Garrett mounted up.
Chapter Nine
Spring spent the morning mucking out the stable. Her horses were out in the grassy pasture enjoying the partially sunny day and the sunshine. The air was humid, and she wondered if rain might be on the way later. Not worrying over it, she finished the work, put away the pitchfork and shovel, and walked outside. Paint, her two-year-old brown-and-white palomino, came racing to her side and nuzzled the pocket of her jacket.
“You just ate, remember?” she said, rubbing his neck affectionately. “No treats, and there’ll be no carrots until I plant.”
Paint kept up the nuzzling, which soon turned into playful bumping. Spring laughed as
she tried to set her feet and not fall over. “Stop, silly!” Set on his fun, he kept it up. “Stop!” she scolded, laughing. “If you put me on my butt, you’ll never get carrots again for as long as you live.” The mares Lady and Sunrise watched silently. Stallion Cheyenne viewed the scene with kinglike disinterest from across the yard and she called to him, “Come and get your little brother.”
The stallion of course ignored her and instead, lowered his head to drink from the water in the trough. Paint bumped her a few more times, almost succeeding in putting her on the ground, then raced away.
Shaking her head at his antics, she called out to Lady, who would help her with the next item on the day’s list of chores. Cheyenne refused to be hitched to a wagon. It was as if he found such toil beneath his station as ruler. Lady on the other hand didn’t seem to mind. She was a beautiful red-coated bay with a shiny black mane and tail, and strong black legs and matching hooves. Once Spring had her hitched, she called to Cheyenne. “I’ll be back in a little while. Going to put Paint in the stable so he doesn’t eat the cabin while I’m gone.”
Cheyenne glanced over at Paint, who made a point of avoiding his gaze. Paint spent the first year of his life taking bites out of everything he came in contact with, from the wood on the cabin and the fences, to everything in Spring’s garden. Returning from town one day, she found he’d jumped the garden’s wire fencing and turned the newly emerging vegetables into his personal buffet. He’d eaten the tops of all the carrots, beets, and then all the beans and tomato plants. He paid for his greediness later that evening and was stomach sick for the next two days. Now a year older she hoped he was no longer bite happy, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She walked him to the barn, put him in his stall, and locked his chest-high gate. “I’ll let you out when I get back. You can’t have my place for lunch, and if someone comes along and wants to steal you, Cheyenne will probably help them saddle you up. I don’t want to lose you.”
He stuck his painted face against her and whinnied.
“Be back soon.” She gave him a hug and left the barn.
With Lady pulling the wagon, Spring took a slow drive around her property to check for damage left by the months of winter weather. McCray was also on her mind. She let herself admit to looking forward to having him back for dinner, and what might come after. Last night had not been enough. A couple of older trees had been downed by the storms, so she used an ax to chop the trunks into manageable rounds then struggled to place the heavy pieces into the bed of the wagon. The process took a while. Once she caught her breath and used a bandanna to mop up the sweat on her face and neck, she drove the wagon home. The unloading was just as arduous. After wiping her brow again, taking a few drags of water from her canteen, she let her arms rest for a few moments to free Paint and unhitch Lady. Once that was done, she picked up the ax again. The wood would be used for firewood later in the year. In the middle of the task, she spotted a buggy coming her way. Its occupants were Avery Jarvis, his business partner, and the young woman she’d seen the other day but had yet to be introduced to. Hoping they were just passing by, she resumed filling the air with the ring of the ax. When the buggy stopped and Jarvis and the others got out and approached, she snarled quietly.
Wild Rain Page 10
