“How do you know it is nonsense?” she asked.
“Because I see how it hurts you. Because the reverend wouldn’t have spent two sermons on it if it were true.” When she bit her lip and remained undecided, he whispered, “Trust me.”
She closed her eyes, and a tear slipped down her cheek. “They whisper that Simon isn’t my husband’s. That he is Zachariah’s.”
When Lance was quiet for a prolonged time, she opened her eyes to see him staring at her with abject confusion. “They would doubt your honor?” His eyes flashed with rage.
“You can see why.” She sniffled. “Simon does resemble Zachariah in certain ways. He has black hair and blue eyes.”
Lance waited for her to say more and then held up his palms. “That’s it? He has black hair and blue eyes? You have blue eyes. Why should it matter if he has black hair or blond hair? That shouldn’t spark gossip.”
“They say Alan intentionally provoked the man to shoot him because he was ashamed of my perfidy.”
“Your deceit?” Lance took a step toward her and touched her softly on her shoulder. “Don’t they know you at all? How can people who’ve known you for years doubt you?”
She looked at him with wonder. “How can you not doubt?”
He smiled at her and traced a finger over her cheek. “I’ve seen you. You’re loyal and honorable and kind. You worked hard to shield your husband’s weaknesses from those in town. You never would have cheated on him.” His eyes glinted with his anger. “I understand now why Mrs. Brown was so irate.”
Eleanor froze. “You asked her?”
He nodded. “Yes. I wanted to understand. I felt like the only person in town who didn’t comprehend the warning behind the reverend’s sermons.” He smiled at Eleanor as his finger continued to trace a pattern over her cheek. “You have a strong ally in Mrs. Brown. She refused to speak aloud the gossip because she said to speak it would give it truth. She is a formidable woman.”
Eleanor huffed out a laugh and nodded. For a moment she leaned into his touch, and then she forced herself to back up a step. “Well, now you know. Now you understand why I have so few visitors.” She stepped away from the paddock railing. “I should return to Peter,” she said as she looked down as though embarrassed.
“Good night, Miss Eleanor,” he whispered. “I hope Peter continues to recover well.”
“Thank you, Lance,” she murmured before she spun on her heel and returned to the ranch house.
* * *
The following day, Lance knocked on Peter’s door and smiled as the young boy looked at him with relief. “Happy it’s someone other than your mother and Mrs. Wagner?” he asked with a chuckle. He entered and sat on the chair at the foot of the bed.
Peter had a fresh bandage wrapped around his head, he wore a clean set of pajamas, and a sheet covered him as he lay on his bed. A book was by his side, although it remained unopened.
Lance frowned. “Why aren’t you reading?”
Peter grimaced. “The words are jumbled and blurry. It makes my head hurt worse.” He sighed. “Mama reads to me when she has time, and Simon tells me stories. But I think he prefers to be outside, working with you.”
Lance nodded and set his small package at the foot of the bed. “He does. He’s determined to learn how to hammer as quickly as I do. So far, he’s nearly busted three fingers.” He shook his head as he looked at Simon’s older brother. “He will forever try to keep up.”
“No,” Peter said. “He’ll surpass us. That is how Simon is.” He smiled with brotherly pride.
“I’d think you’d find your younger brother more annoying than you do.” Lance leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees as he studied Peter.
Peter shrugged. “I’ll always be older and wiser, but I’ll never be as brave as Simon.”
Lance frowned. “Then why didn’t Simon go on those rocks? He said he refused, and you taunted him. That that’s why you fell.”
Peter paled, and his eyes rounded.
Lance said, “Ah, Simon fibbed.” When Peter nodded, Lance rose. “Simon?” he called out and waited as he heard the clatter of his young feet running downstairs and then clambering up the stairs. “I have a question for you,” he said to the youngest brother when Simon stood in front of him. Lance shut the door to afford them privacy.
“Yes, Mr. Lance?” he asked.
Lance placed his hands on his hips and furrowed his brows. “Why did you lie to me?”
Simon paled, and his gaze shot to his brother for an instant before he looked back at the man waiting for an answer. “I… I didn’t want Mama to know the truth. She’s already worried about me,” Simon whispered. He ducked his head as though in shame.
Lance sat down, and he was at the youngest boy’s eye level. “Don’t lie. You almost always get caught. Either because the person you were with was truthful or because you can’t remember your lies.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Besides, your life is better if you are truthful.”
“Why?” Simon asked in a small voice. “Mama is always mad at me when she realizes I’ve acted wild again.”
“That is a question you must ask your mother. She has fears to face, and you can help her confront them,” Lance said in a gentle voice. “However, you should try to always tell the truth.” He smiled at Simon. “I don’t want to be a hypocrite as we all tell little fibs here and there.”
Lance sobered as he looked at the young boy. “However, your fib about what occurred at the swimming hole was a big one. Will you tell me what really happened?” He paused and then murmured, “And then you must tell your mama. It’s not fair she’s angry with Peter.”
Simon hung his head, and his shoulders stooped. “I challenged Peter to a race to our swimming hole. An’ then after we played a while in the water, I said I was gonna jump off the rocks.” His voice became animated as he told his story. “I love climbing as high as I can, and I wanted to make a big splash.” He held his arms out wide.
“What happened?” Lance asked as Simon became serious.
“Peter insisted he had to go first because he was older.” Simon looked at his brother as guilt marred his expression. “I was mad because it was my idea.”
“Simon?” Lance asked.
“I called him a scared monkey and that even Isabelle could climb the rocks faster than he was.” Simon sniffled. “He tried to climb faster and tripped.” Simon fought tears as he looked at his brother. “I’m sorry, Peter.”
“You’re my baby brother, Simon. I’d rather have this headache than you,” Peter said.
Simon sniffled. “No one should.” He leaned against Lance’s knee and accepted Lance’s hug. “I’ll tell Mama. Promise.”
“Good,” Lance said as he patted him on his back. “But, before you do, I wondered if you’d play a game of checkers with me?”
“Checkers?” Simon asked, lighting up and bouncing on his toes. “Yes!”
Lance laughed and opened the box he’d brought with him, setting it on the end of Peter’s bed. Simon stood, while Lance sat on his chair. Simon insisted on being red, as Peter was always red, and he wanted to be red for once. “Fine,” Lance said.
He looked up at Peter and saw him smiling with his eyes closed as he and Simon set up the board. “Prepare to lose,” Lance teased the young boy.
Simon continued to chatter throughout the four subsequent games, talking about the horses, the stream, the chores he would do because Peter was ill. Through it all, he matched each of Lance’s moves, and they were tied two games each.
“One more, Mr. Lance?” Simon asked as he bounced around by the side of Peter’s bed.
Lance chuckled and agreed. “I wish I could bottle up your energy,” he murmured. As he and Simon set up the board, he looked at the young man. “Simon, a word of advice, man to man.” He saw Simon pause in putting down his checkers as he focused on him. “Always try to speak properly. Only swear when there’s nothing else you can say.”
“All the b
oys talk rough,” Simon said with a frown.
Lance nodded. “I know. They talked rough when I was a boy, too, and it’s all right to talk with your friends like that. But with adults, or someone of authority, always speak properly. You’ll earn their respect faster.”
Simon bit his lip. “Is that why you never swear or say things like ain’t?”
Lance laughed. “Yes, although I do in my head sometimes.”
Simon bit his lip as his eyes danced with mischief. “Do you cuss in your head?”
Lance shook his head. “Yes, Simon, but I try not to let the bad words out.”
Simon nodded. “I think I understand.” He sighed and focused on the board. “I bet I can beat you.”
“I bet you can, too.” He reached across and ruffled Simon’s hair before focusing on their checkers match.
* * *
Two days later, Gracie Wright rode down the lane and smiled as Lance emerged from the barn to greet her. “How’s my patient?” she asked as she handed him her reins. She swung down from the horse and then reached for her medicine bag and a small bundle that squirmed.
Lance stared at the bundle but smiled his welcome. “Better. He’s getting fidgety and wants out of bed.”
Gracie laughed, wearing a serviceable navy dress and a broad hat to protect her face from the bright sun. “That’s a sign that he’s recovering well. I assume Eleanor has kept him bedridden?”
Lance grinned at the doctor as she turned purposefully toward the house. “Yes, although I think she realizes she will soon fail in that endeavor.”
Gracie laughed again and smiled her thanks as Lance grabbed her medicine bag. “Well, hopefully I will find him much improved, and he can roam the ranch again.” She giggled as the bag she held squirmed.
“Might I inquire what you have in that bag?” Lance asked.
She beamed at him. “Eleanor mentioned the boys needed a puppy. Our dog just had a litter a few months ago, and we’d be delighted for the boys to have him.” She opened the flap, and a furry head popped out with floppy ears. He had a white head except for a black patch covering one eye.
Lance grinned at her. “It’ll be fun to watch the boys’ reaction. And to see them argue about naming him.”
She smiled. “Yes.” She cuddled the puppy. “Sometimes the best medicine has nothing to do with medicine.”
He watched her with even more respect and followed her inside and up the stairs. Before she went into the room, she exchanged the puppy for her medicine bag. “Keep the surprise,” she whispered.
He nodded and sat on the floor in the hallway, holding the puppy as it turned in circles to settle on his lap. He ran a soothing hand over its back as it quivered with fright. He sighed with relief when it lay down and gave a gentle snore as though it were falling asleep.
He listened to Gracie talking with Peter, exclaiming what a great patient he had been, and soothing Eleanor’s fears about infection. “What a wonderful doctor,” Lance murmured. He relaxed further when he heard Peter giggle, and Eleanor laugh, as Gracie told a story about a miner who had come in after his partner had accidentally pickaxed him in the backside. “As you can imagine, he won’t sit down for some time!” Gracie said with a laugh.
After she gave instructions for Peter, where he was advised he could move around again, but not to resume all of his wild antics, she informed him, “I have a surprise for you and your brother.”
Lance rose and ducked into a room off the hall as the doctor summoned Simon. Lance heard Simon’s excited footsteps and high-pitched voice, murmuring to the puppy to keep it quiet, afraid that any barking would ruin the doctor’s surprise. He glanced around the room he’d entered and froze, belatedly realizing he was in Eleanor’s room. On her bureau, he studied a picture of her with a severe-looking man who stood stiffly beside her. He frowned as he noted little warmth or caring in either expression. “I wonder if that was her husband?” he murmured as he studied the austere gentleman with narrow shoulders. He jerked as the door was opened.
“There you are,” Eleanor said, and she flushed as she caught him staring at the items on her bureau. A silver brush and hand mirror set. A small box where she kept little treasures. And the only picture of her and Alan. “Gracie’s ready to give the boys her surprise.” Her expression softened as she focused on the adorable puppy in his arms. “Oh, aren’t you precious?” she breathed as she traced a hand over the puppy’s head.
Lance stepped toward her, wishing she were referring to him. He froze and backed away a step. “I’ll follow you in,” he rasped as he cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon for invading your private space, but I did not want to ruin this for Simon.”
“I understand. Follow me,” she said as she turned to reenter Peter’s crowded room. “I found him!” she called out.
Lance took a deep breath and walked in after Eleanor. For a moment, there was complete silence in the room as the boys gaped at him. Then Simon gave a whoop and hopped around while Peter jumped to his knees and opened his arms.
“Give him to me!” Peter said.
Lance shook his head. “This adorable puppy comes from Doc Gracie and her family. From what the doc told me, she wants it to be for both of you boys, not just one of you. Is that correct, Doc?” Lance looked to Gracie to find her fighting a fit of the giggles.
“Yes,” she said. “This puppy is for both of you.”
Lance nodded and motioned for Simon to join Peter on the bed. When the brothers were sitting side by side, he set the puppy between them. At first, the little creature gripped Lance’s shirtfront with its claws, but after a few moments it huddled between the brothers.
Simon reached forward and patted its back. “So soft,” he whispered as he continued to pat the white dog with black splotches.
Peter stroked its ear and giggled when the puppy licked his hand. “What should we call him?” he asked his brother.
“Spot!” Simon said as he traced one of the black areas on the puppy.
Peter shrugged. “Maybe, but that seems obvious.” He smiled as the puppy squirmed between the two of them. “What do you think, Mr. Lance?”
“He’s your puppy, boys. You should name him,” Lance said as he knelt by the side of the bed, flipping the puppy’s inside-out ear back in place.
“But, Mr. Lance, you should help us,” Simon said as he tried to ease the puppy closer to him. He stilled his not-so-stealthy movements when Lance gave him a warning stare. “Sorry,” he whispered to Peter.
Lance looked to Eleanor who nodded her encouragement at him helping her boys name their puppy. He pointed at the puppy’s eye. “I thought Patch would be a good name.”
“Patch,” Peter said and then looked at his brother. “What do you think?”
Simon raised his hand up in triumph. “Patch!”
Lance smiled at their enthusiasm. “Now, having a puppy isn’t all fun and games. You have to ensure he’s not just laying around, eating all the time. And you must train him to only go to the bathroom outside, like we do.” He winked at the boys as they giggled.
“Where will he sleep, Mama?” Peter looked to his mother. “In the barn?”
Lance frowned at the question and looked at Eleanor in confusion as she flushed. “The barn?”
“Alan disapproved of animals being inside the house. However, I believe young Patch will be most welcome here.” She smiled at her sons. “He should have a small bed that travels from Simon’s room to Peter’s room, depending on where he sleeps each night.”
“It should be his choice,” Simon said.
“Simon,” Eleanor said with a warning in her voice. “You know my position on food upstairs. You will not entice the puppy to your room with food. I believe what would be fair is that Patch spend every other night with each of you.”
Simon nodded, although he looked as though he were plotting some way to spend more time with his puppy. “All right, Mama.” He smiled at his brother. “We have a dog!” He squirmed and hopped from the bed. “Get dr
essed and come play outside. We can teach him how to fetch!”
He tried to grab Patch, but Lance beat him to it. He winked at Simon. “I’ll carry him downstairs for you. It might take him a few days to learn how to navigate the stairs.” He watched as Simon raced down the stairs, calling out that he would find the perfect stick for their puppy.
“I’ll tend your horse, Doc,” Lance murmured, as he followed Simon out.
* * *
After Peter dressed and followed Simon and Lance downstairs, Gracie and Eleanor sat on the front porch to watch the boys play with their puppy. Simon tried to have the puppy fetch a huge stick, and Eleanor laughed as the puppy toppled over in the attempt to drag it. Soon, the boys tossed a small stick and then played tug of war with Patch, until Patch let go, and they could toss the stick again.
“Thank you so much for coming to check on Peter again today.” Eleanor looked at her son, laughing and playing with his brother, and fought tears. “I can’t tell you what it means to see him well.”
Gracie nodded. “I’m delighted to see how well he has recovered. But, that’s the young. They recover so quickly.” She smiled at Eleanor. “I will return in about a week to remove his stitches. He’ll be none pleased with me that day.”
Eleanor nodded. “I’ll remind him that you brought him Patch.” She sobered as she looked at Gracie. “Are you sure your family doesn’t mind giving us such a wonderful dog?”
Gracie flushed and looked down. “I must admit something, Eleanor. Patch is the runt of the litter, and I feared we wouldn’t find a home for him. We already have too many dogs as it is.”
“My boys will never think of him as a runt,” Eleanor said. “Are you busy in town?”
“As busy as I want to be,” she said as she smiled at Mrs. Wagner who brought out a pitcher of water and two glasses. After murmuring her thanks, she said, “There is rarely a dull day in Rattlesnake Ridge.”
“I should think you’d dream of a dull day now and again,” Eleanor murmured. “You were so competent when you arrived here. Cleaning Peter’s wound and then sewing him up. You never faltered in your task, even when he screamed and carried on.” She fought tears at the memory. “I don’t know how you have the fortitude to do it.”
Drifting from Deadwood: The Pioneer Brides of Rattlesnake Ridge, Book 6 Page 9
