Distraction

by Tess Oliver

I straightened and turned to him with a sigh. “First of all, Libby said she’d look after the girl. She’ll probably be back with her family before I even get home.” I wasn’t sure if that thought comforted me or bothered me. “Secondly, old man Trenton pays good money to break those mustangs and we need the cash. We lost half our herd to the drought and let’s face it, Samuel, we’ll lose the rest if this dry spell doesn’t break soon. This ranch was Dad’s legacy. It’s all we’ve got, and I’m not willing to let it slip away just yet.” I put my hand on his shoulder, more to irritate him than for any other reason, and the expression on his face assured me it worked. “I’ll be back in a week with a pocket of cash and possibly a few broken bones.”

  Samuel snarled as he turned to leave. “You’ll probably lose it all at poker before you even get home.”

  “You’re thinking of your poker playing skills, Sam,” I called to him. “I always win.”

  Jackson and I mounted up and headed out.

  Jackson shook his head and laughed. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s being married to Charlotte that always has your brother in such a fit or if he’s just getting grumpier with age.”

  “He’s only twenty-four. I think it’s Charlotte. She’s got him wrapped tightly in her fist. Poor guy can’t even take a sip of whiskey without her blathering on to him about the sin of drinking.”

  “I don’t know if any woman is worth giving up everything that’s sinful, unless the woman herself is full of sin,” Jackson laughed. “Speaking of women— how’s your wingless angel?”

  “She’s on the mend. I’m sure she’ll be ready to go home soon. Wherever home is.”

  “You mean she’ll be up and gone before we get back?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe.” And that’s when it struck me. I’d tried to convince myself that she’d be gone and that would be the end of it, but the thought of never seeing her again left a bitter taste in my throat. Jackson fired another question at me, but I had no idea what he’d asked.

  I tamped my hat down on my head and glanced at him. A grin plumped his already round face.

  “What are you staring at?” I asked.

  “Oh nothing. It’s just when I mentioned the girl, you seemed to drift off into your own little world there for a moment. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think—”

  “Don’t think, you fool. You need all your energy for breaking colts.” I kicked River into a run and headed for Grimly’s Ridge. Six days of getting thrown ten feet in the air and having the wind knocked out of me would definitely help bounce the girl from my mind.

  Chapter 8

  Poppy

  The cavernous kitchen smelled richly of cinnamon and cloves. It reminded me of the gingerbread I’d eaten on that day, that terrible fateful day of rosy skies.

  Libby pulled a pie out of the odd looking iron box which she had fed armfuls of wood and kindling before feeding it the pie. But the pie was spit back out, only now it was cooked to a perfectly golden crust.

  “I’ve never seen anything quite like that iron box,” I said. My voice was nearly lost in the large kitchen.

  Libby looked over her shoulder at me. Her smooth pink cheeks nearly covered her blue eyes when she smiled. She was a tall, robust woman who looked stronger than most men I knew, but she had the gentle demeanor of a grandmother. I’d grown quite fond of her during my convalescence. I had no idea how Nonni and I would ever repay her for her kindness.

  “This old thing? I call her Bessie.” Libby patted the side of the iron box. “She’s an antique, but she still produces a fine pie crust. Still, I’ve been saving my pennies hoping to buy a beauty of a coal burner I saw over at the merchant shop.” She had lowered her voice as if she thought Bessie might hear and understand. “I’ll bet you’ve seen some of those fancy new gas burning stoves when you were back east.”

  She referred to back east a lot, but I had no idea what she meant. I was someplace called Montana, but I didn’t know where it was in relation to Salem. “We just had a kettle and fire back home.”

  Libby’s blue eyes opened wide. “A kettle and fire? I wouldn’t think anyone lived like that out there anymore. Especially being so close to Boston and all.”

  “Boston? I’ve never been there but I hear it’s a fine little town.”

  Libby’s laugh echoed through the room. “Little town? It’s hardly little.”

  “Libby, is it possible for me to walk to Salem from here?”

  She laughed again but then seemed to notice my distress and stopped. “I’m sorry, Honey, but you could walk for days and never reach the end of Montana, let alone the east coast. I’m afraid the only way to get to Salem would be by train. And that costs a pretty penny. I’d lend you the money if I had it to lend.”

  Trains and pretty pennies, once again her words confused me, but I didn’t let on that I had no idea what she was talking about. I was ashamed at my ignorance. Obviously two hundred years had brought on a lot of changes, but I couldn’t explain to her that I was years from home. So I just nodded in agreement.

  The strange conversation had left me feeling desperately homesick. I fought back tears and concentrated on my needlework. The oversized dress slipped off my shoulder again, and I adjusted it before pushing the needle through the fabric. Libby leaned over my shoulder to glance at my work.

  “Who taught you to sew a fine sampler like that, Poppy?”

  “My grandmother,” I said and placed the sampler on my lap. It had been a week since I’d last seen Nonni, and the sadness was overwhelming.

  “Is that who Nonni is?”

  I looked up at her with wide eyes. “Yes, have you seen her?”

  “No, I haven’t seen her, but you must have called her name out a hundred times when you were suffering that terrible fever.” Libby sat down on the chair across from me. It was rare to see her with a grave expression on her face. “Poppy, of course you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, but I’m still confused about how you got here to Montana. Did your grandmother travel with you?”

  The question caused a terrible ache in my throat. I stared down at the sampler in my lap not completely sure how to answer. “She was supposed to travel behind me,” I said after a long pause. My eyes were blurry with tears now as I looked up at Libby. “I think I may have gotten lost, and I just hope she can find me.” I thought about the crystal being ripped from my fingers and the dreadful thought that if I used my magic it might lead Nonni to me, but Angus would be close behind.

  Libby pulled a handkerchief from her apron pocket and handed it to me. “Well, I’ve just had a brilliant idea. First of all, you need a dress that fits you. My friend, Susan, is the best dressmaker around. She has a nice little shop in town. You could help me bake a few more pies, and we’ll take them into town to trade for a dress or two. I’m sure she can dig up something that fits a tiny little thing like you. Then we’ll go over to the telegraph office and find out how much it would cost to send a telegraph to Salem. Maybe they can get word to your Nonni.”

  She’d lost me completely, and she seemed to sense my confusion. “Pardon my ignorance, Libby, but what is a telegraph?”

  Her mouth hung open for a moment but she recovered quickly. “A kettle and fire? No telegraph? You must have lived in a really remote part of Salem. A telegraph—” she began but then she looked as confused as I felt. She seemed to be looking for the right words then shrugged. “I don’t really know how the thing works, but we can get a message over to Salem to let them know your whereabouts. Maybe someone can find your grandma.”

  I was completely baffled by the whole thing, but I wasn’t sure if it was wise. If the whole of Salem were to discover where I was then Angus could find me too. “Libby, thank you, but my grandmother won’t need a message. She’ll be able to find me without it. And I don’t want you to spend any of your hard earned money to pay for a message. If you don’t mind I would like to stay here until she comes for me. I think it will be easier for her to find me if I stay in one place. I can help around her
e. I know how to cook and wash. I’m quite skilled at milking a cow.”

  Libby reached forward and took hold of both my hands. Her fingers were calloused and rough like Nonni’s. “Of course you can stay as long as you like, Honey. And I can always use a hand around here. Especially if you don’t mind milking.” She reached to her back. “My back has been in a twist these last few years, and I would be truly grateful not to have to bend down beneath those cows anymore.” She squeezed my fingers in hers. “I know you’ve healed up way faster than I could have imagined, but do you think you’re up to making pies today?”

  I smiled. “Absolutely. What shall I do first?” I looked forward to occupying my mind and hands with pie baking. It would help pass time while I waited for Nonni and Mari. Certainly my grandmother’s supernatural instincts would lead her to me soon.

  Libby and I sipped tea while we baked. I peeled tart green apples, and Libby rolled out the crust. I gazed out the window as I worked. The land around the house was immense and somewhat desolate. A large red barn stood a healthy walk from the house, and I could see a few pigs in a pen. Aside from a handful of chickens pecking at the barren dirt in front of the barn, there were few other signs of life.

  The iron box creaked and moaned with smoke as Libby pushed in the pies. The door to the kitchen swung open, and the man Libby had called Samuel walked inside. He had nice green eyes and a well-proportioned face, but he was not the knight from my sketch. I was silly to think, even for a moment, that he’d truly existed. It was obvious that the picture was still in my mind when I traveled through time and he’d appeared only because I’d dreamt about him.

  Samuel walked over and picked up a slice of apple. He watched me from beneath his wide-brimmed hat.

  Libby straightened from putting the pies in to bake. “What have I told you about wearing that hat in the house, Samuel? And it looks like your boots needed wiping too. I just mopped this floor.”

  Samuel took the hat off his head. He had a thick mound of wavy brown hair, but the man I remembered carrying me away from the clawed monster had long, straight hair. Still, Samuel must have brought me here. Obviously, the fever had caused my confusion.

  I worked up the courage to speak to him. “I’ve never thanked you for saving me from that beast. I’m sure I would be dead if you hadn’t found me.”

  His dark brows scrunched together as if he had no idea what I was talking about. “Sorry, Miss, but it wasn’t me. Cade is the one that brought you here to the ranch.”

  “Cade?” I asked.

  “He’s the one who scared off the grizzly.”

  “Oh, I see,” I said, but I really had no idea who he was talking about. “Well, thank you for letting me stay here.”

  He nodded and put his hat back on his head.

  Libby handed him a cup of coffee. “Speaking of Cade, I suppose he’ll be back soon.”

  A derisive laugh shot from Samuel’s mouth. “Sure. He’s probably sitting at a poker table this very minute. All I know is that the east fence isn’t going to mend itself, so he’d better get back home before some of the herd decides to pick up and leave. The fences are his duty.”

  ***

  “You’d better put this shawl around your shoulders, Poppy.” Libby draped a thickly knitted shawl around me. “It might look clear with sunshine out there but an early Montana spring still has a bite to it.” She stopped and surveyed my attire. “My lord, I nearly forgot a hat. Don’t need to get a wind burn on that pretty face.” She walked out of the kitchen and returned with two straw bonnets. One she tied on her own head and the other she tied securely on mine. She leaned back and admired the bow she’d tied beneath my chin. “I never had children, but I think I would have liked to have had a daughter to dress up. Of course, I’ve raised Samuel and Cade since they were young boys. Still, you can’t dress boys up like you can girls. Especially those two wildcats. That Cade was such a hellion, I thought I’d never get him to adulthood. But he’s turned out a fine young man. Both of them have.”

  I was growing fond of the unique phrases Libby used to describe everything. I could only assume a hellion was someone who got into a lot of trouble. My excitement at the prospect of taking a wagon ride through Montana grew with each passing moment. Aside from my early years in England, I’d never been farther north than Rowley Village or farther south than Humphrey’s Pond.

  Libby handed me two pies to carry out to the wagon. “Samuel’s got the horses hitched, so let’s be on our way.”

  It was the first time I’d stepped outside since I’d arrived, and that day was an utter blur. A dry wind whipped beneath the edge of my bonnet, and the ribbon tugged on my chin. The fragrance of earth and grass came from every direction. I squinted out to a field where large cows with long, dangerous horns on their heads stood in a nearly solid mass. The sky above was clear and endless and . . . blue. A tall latticed structure with a large round wheel on top stood above the roof of the barn. “What is that?” I asked. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Libby glanced the direction I was pointing. “That’s the windmill. It brings water to the ranch— when there’s water to be had.”

  Two fine, smooth horses stood in front of the wagon. “I’ve never seen such beautiful horses,” I said. “Back home, even the finest plow horses looked ragged and tired.”

  Libby shook her head beneath her straw bonnet. “If Samuel heard you calling this pair beautiful, he’d fall on the floor in a heap of laughter. But they are trustworthy in front of a wagon and that’s all that matters to me.” She tucked the pies into a corner of the wagon bed and climbed up onto the box seat. She lowered her hand for me to take. The stitches pulled against my skin as I heaved myself up onto the wagon.

  “I think it’s almost time to take the doc’s sewing out of your side.”

  I shifted on the hard bench until I found a smooth spot. “I think you’re right.”

  “Do you ride horses?” Libby clucked her tongue and the horses reluctantly took plodding steps forward. The wagon lurched into motion.

  “We could never afford a horse, but I’ve always thought it would be exciting to gallop down the road on one.”

  “We’ve got a couple of older horses that would be perfect for you to learn on. I’ve got a trunk full of the boys’ old clothes. Maybe we can rummage through it and find a pair of waist overalls that’ll fit you. No reason why you can’t learn to ride while you’re here.” She turned to face me. “Or do you think your grandmother will be upset if you ride?”

  I shook my head. “Not at all. Nonni always encourages me to try new things.” I spoke casually of her as if any moment she might appear, but it had been more than a week and there was no sign of her. What if she never found me? I had no money, no family, no home, and there was no way to get back to my real home, two centuries away. It all seemed terrifying, and I had to keep my mind in the present to keep from going completely mad with worry.

  “Once Cade returns, I’m sure he can find the time to teach you how to sit in a saddle.”

  I was more than pleased to leave my dark thoughts. “Samuel tells me that Cade is the one who brought me here. I must confess, I don’t remember him. Does he live here too?”

  “Yes. He’s over in the next county breaking colts for a rancher. I expect him home any time.” Her eyes always seemed to take on a prideful shine whenever she spoke of Cade.

  “What is breaking colts?” I knew I sounded thoroughly witless with all my questions, but I had no idea how else I would learn about these new things unless I asked. And Libby seemed more than tolerant with my incessant inquiries.

  “The rancher had some wild horses. Cade works with them until they are safe to ride. A well-mannered, broke horse is worth a nice lump of money.”

  “Interesting,” I said. “Broke is usually not a good thing where I come from.”

  Libby smiled and shook the reins. The horses’ heads popped up and they picked up their pace. “I think that term is only good when it describes horses.
I just hope those wild mustangs don’t break Cade first.”

  Gigantic rolls of brown grass dotted the fields as we wobbled along the bumpy path. We passed the occasional house or herd of cows, but for the most part, there was just land. Lots and lots of flat land.

  “I see a small pond over there past that fence,” I said. “It seems that there is not much water around here.”

  A squirrel dashed across the road and the horses snorted. “Calm yourselves, you silly beasts. It was only a squirrel.” Libby adjusted the shawl on her shoulders. “Two years ago you could see a pond or watering hole around every bend in the road, but we’ve had a terrible dry spell for months. Even the snow in the mountains was too thin to help down here in the farmland. Our herd and the ranch have suffered because of it. Hopefully this spring will bring some showers.” There was a speck of hopelessness in her tone when she spoke. There had never been a shortage of rain in Salem. In fact there was far too much of it for my liking.

  A lone rider headed toward us on the narrow road. Even with his hat low on his head, the horses seemed to recognize the man. His horse whinnied to the wagon horses.

  “Jackson,” Libby called ahead to him, “why are you heading home alone?” Libby stiffened next to me. “Did something happen to Cade?”

  “Nah, he’s fine. Better than fine, in fact.” The man pulled to a stop next to the wagon. A slightly stunned expression crossed his young face. “You’re up and around. Cade thought you might be gone before he got back home. I guess he’ll miss you after all.” His face was covered with grime and there was a terrible cut on the side of his chin. “Just between us, I think he’s going to be disappointed.”

  “Jackson, I don’t know what you’re rambling on about. We’re just going to town to pick some dresses up for Poppy.”

  “Poppy?” he repeated enthusiastically. “They sure are giving angels interestin’ names these days.”

  Libby shot him a long, hard look. “Just how many times did you get dumped on your head up there at Trenton’s?”