Spinning Out Of Control

by Vickie McDonough

  ❧

  Micah and Ben rode out of town after selling a mule load of furs. He’d wanted his brother to stay behind and work, but Amy had gently suggested it would be good for Ben to get away from the farm for a bit. And she’d been right. She had also hesitantly hinted that it would be wise to have someone with him rather than riding all over the countryside alone with a wallet full of money. He reached up and patted the bulge in his jacket to make sure it was still there. He had enough money to make at least one of his dreams come true today. The wagonload of goods Hank Foster eagerly agreed to deliver when he returned Micah’s mule would please the womenfolk.

  For one so young, Amy Rogers had a lot of good qualities. She was wise, patient with the girls, a good manager of his home, and she kept herself looking tidy most of the time.

  “Sam’s got a nice looking bay mare you might be interested in.”

  Micah looked sideways at his brother. “Yeah?”

  Ben nodded. “She’s fast. Won the Winter Harvest race last November. Don’t know if Sam would part with her though.”

  Rusty edged into a rough trot, but Micah pulled him back to a walk. “Tell me about Miss Rogers.”

  Blinking, Ben gave Micah a curious glance. “Amy? What do you want to know?”

  He shrugged. “Where’s she from? How old is she? How come she’s running our home?”

  Ben peeked out of the corner of his eye. “Didn’t Jonah tell you ’bout her?”

  “A little. But I want to know more.”

  “Why?” Ben’s question held a suspicious tone.

  Micah strove for an air of nonchalance. “She’s taking care of our home, watching over my daughters.” He shrugged again. “I need to know if I can trust her.”

  Ben snorted a laugh. “Good grief, don’t you think she’s proven she can be trusted? I mean, she’s been caring for things over a month now and came in after Kath—”

  Micah felt his brother’s eyes on him, but he didn’t turn to look at him as grief threatened to overcome him.

  “Sorry.”

  They rode in silence for a while. As Micah rocked in the saddle and listened to the rhythmic clopping of the horses’ hooves, he blinked back tears. Nothing could bring Kathryn back. He’d always have fond memories of their time together—some better than others, but he had to move on. Often, he’d wondered if having more of his family around would have helped Kathryn.

  A generation or two back, this area was swarming with Walshes. But all of the others had either moved south or west to the frontier, except for Ben and him.

  He should have tried harder to help Kathryn. Micah shook his head. He couldn’t let the guilt of not being a better husband weigh him down. Nothing could change the past. He had a farm and a family to take care of and needed to look to the future. Turning his face away from Ben, he wiped his eyes.

  “Amy’s from Boston. Used to visit Kathryn’s home with her mother when they were children. Guess she’s had it pretty rough lately,” Ben said.

  Micah remembered Jonah saying something about Amy’s father deserting her and her mother, then returning when he was dying, expecting Amy to support and tend to him. He despised men who didn’t care for their families. But then, hadn’t that very thing—providing for his family—been the thing that separated him and his wife?

  “There’s Sutton’s turnoff.”

  Micah glanced up and had to short rein Rusty to keep from missing the trail. Excitement quivered in his belly. How many years had he dreamed of being able to buy some mares and start raising horses? Anxious, he sucked in a deep breath and urged Rusty to go faster. Ben took up the challenge and kicked his horse into a gallop.

  They raced down the trail, neck and neck. Micah grinned, enjoying this lighthearted moment with his brother. When they’d been younger they’d had fun together despite the seven years separating them. Ben had always been Micah’s shadow, but his big heart and impulsiveness often got him in trouble. Like the time when he was four and brought home some black and white kittens. Only they hadn’t been kittens, and the momma skunk hadn’t appreciated him stealing her babies. Micah couldn’t help chuckling. Ben had smelled like skunk for days afterward. It wasn’t too funny then, since he had shared a bed with his brother, but it was now.

  Two hours later, Micah and Ben were headed home. Micah led a frisky bay mare, and Ben herded eight more mares and a gelding behind her. Sam had said the other horses would follow the bay like sheep to a shepherd, and they had.

  He still couldn’t believe his good fortune. Sam Sutton told him since he’d reached his seventieth birthday, he needed to cut back some and had given Micah a great deal to buy out his remaining stock. Sam had kept only two horses—a roan saddle horse and his prize stallion.

  The mares had already been bred, so Micah’s herd should nearly double early next year. Sam had also offered him a low fee to breed the mares in future years. Yes siree, God had smiled down on him today.

  As Micah rounded the trail and his cabin came into view, he saw that Hank Foster was just arriving with his wagon of supplies. Micah’s chest swelled. It felt great to have his debts paid off and to be able to buy things his family needed.

  Family. That thought startled him. When had he started thinking of Amy as family? She was actually—even more so than Jonah. Still, she wasn’t family in the same sense that Kathryn had been. And she never would be. For now, the girls needed her, but down the road. . .well, he’d tackle that bear later.

  Hank let out a low whistle. “That’s some right nice horse-flesh you got there.” He pushed his floppy hat back on his forehead and stared at them. “I see Sam Sutton sold you his prize-winning mare. You must be a fancy talker to get him to part with her.”

  Hank Foster was one of the most talkative men in town. Micah knew better than to take his bait. If the livery worker got started yakking, it would be dark before he quit. Nodding, Micah rode past the man as Hank pulled his wagon to a stop near the porch steps.

  The front door banged open, and Beth ran outside squealing with Amy close on her heals. “Horsies! Bwown horsies!” Micah smiled as his daughter bounced up and down, her brown eyes twinkling.

  The bay mare jerked her head and snorted at the sudden noise. “Whoa, girl.” He tightened his hold on the mare’s lead rope until her head almost rested against his leg. Glancing to the porch, he noted Amy’s arm around Beth, holding the child against her skirts. With his daughter safe, he nudged Rusty toward the pasture ahead where Jonah waited with the gate open.

  Hank jumped from his wagon seat to the ground, tugged off his hat, and held it in his dirty hands. “Afternoon, Miss Rogers. I told you I’d be back. Have you decided to marry me yet?”

  Micah jerked back so hard on Rusty’s reins that the horse squealed and reared up. The bay mare beside him danced about, upset by the lead horse’s actions. Rusty pranced in a circle, and Micah had to rein him back. He didn’t want to miss Amy’s response. How could she consider marrying Hank Foster? Oh, sure, he could be a likeable enough fellow, but he was dumb as a stick.

  With Rusty finally under control, Micah glanced at Amy. Her dark eyes shone wide against her pale skin. Would she agree to marry Hank? Micah couldn’t help wondering if he’d expected too much from her—worked her too hard. Now that she had a chance, would she leave him and the girls?

  Six

  Micah awoke with a start, his heart pounding. He rubbed his eyes and shook off sleep as he listened for what had awakened him. He heard a scuffling sound, then the quilt covering the open doorway flipped back. Moonlight rushed through, along with the cool night air and the sounds of night critters. Ben’s silhouette crawled in through the opening. He sure got up a lot at night.

  “Where you been?” Micah asked, his voice gravelly. A drink of water would taste great, but he didn’t want to climb down the ladder to get it. Morning would dawn soon enough.

  “Where do you think I’ve been?” Ben crept across the room, removed his boots, and dropped onto the bed.

  �
�You’re going to have to quit drinking so much water at night, boy.” Micah knew his brother hated to be referred to as boy.

  “Don’t call me that! I grew up while you were gone.” As he crawled beneath his quilt, Ben mumbled something under his breath that Micah couldn’t quite make out.

  “Yeah, well, you’re not there just yet.” Micah rolled over onto his side. He hated to admit it—and he wouldn’t admit it to Ben—but his brother was indeed a young man. Micah just wished he would act like one.

  “What’s that you said?”

  “Nothing. Go back to sleep.” Micah fluffed his pillow and settled down, hoping to catch another hour’s sleep. As when he’d first gone to bed, his mind drifted to Miss Rogers. He shouldn’t have worried that she might up and marry Hank Foster. Her expression when Hank asked her to marry him alternated between embarrassment and shock.

  Micah recalled how Beth had started fussing and clinging to Miss Rogers’s skirts when she thought the woman might be leaving. Miss Rogers stooped down, hugging the child and glaring over Beth’s shoulder at Hank. The foolish man just wouldn’t take no for an answer. Said he figured he’d give her a little more time to get used to the idea. He climbed back in his unloaded wagon and rode off, hollering that he’d see her soon.

  Micah remembered the relief that had flooded through him. Thank You, Lord, for bringing Amy Rogers here, just when we needed her. Bless her, and let her be happy here. Help me to be kinder to her. It’s not her fault that Kathryn is gone. Forgive me, Father, for taking out my hurt on her.

  Heaving a sigh, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the black ceiling. Somehow, he had to stop feeling guilty that he hadn’t been here for Kathryn. And even if he had been, he wouldn’t have had any idea how to stop her bleeding. The doctor had assured him nothing could have been done.

  Fully awake, Micah pulled on his clothes and boots and tiptoed across the room. Ben’s heavy snores rattled off the walls. It seemed his brother could sleep anywhere these days. Micah had found him dozing in a stall in the barn with the shovel he was supposed to be using to muck out the stall lying in his lap. One morning, Micah had come in for breakfast and found Ben at the table with his head down on his arm, sound asleep.

  He climbed down the ladder, wondering if he’d been working his brother too hard. In his grief, had he taken out his anger on Ben, too? He didn’t think so, but still, he’d try to do better. He was thankful Beth had finally warmed up to him and now treated him the same as before he’d gone trapping, but he couldn’t yet bring himself to touch the baby.

  Why can’t I hold her?

  Not awake enough to sort out his emotions, he opened the barn door and smiled as his animals greeted him with a soft nicker or a moo. The one animal missing was a dog. Every time he mentioned getting Beth a puppy, Ben complained that the farm already had enough critters to care for. Ben used to love dogs. Odd how people could change.

  Two hours later, after milking the cow and caring for the other animals with Jonah’s help, Micah entered the house for breakfast. Fragrant smells wafted around the warm room, making his mouth water and his belly beg for sustenance. Bleary-eyed, Ben sat at the table leaning on one hand, with his clothes and hair disheveled. He yawned as Micah pulled out his chair and sat. Sitting to the left of Ben, Jonah glanced at him then exchanged a look with Micah. Did the old man know something he hadn’t told Micah?

  For the first time, Micah wondered if perhaps Ben was going out carousing with some friends late at night. Had he gotten mixed up in something while he was gone?

  He couldn’t ever remember Ben being so tired at breakfast. He’d just have to watch his brother and see if he was involved with some scallywags. Please, God, I pray he isn’t.

  “I washed up like Amy tolded me to, Papa.” Micah looked down to where Beth stood smiling up at him. She stepped onto the rung of the chair and brushed a sweet kiss on his cheek. His gut clenched. A child’s unconditional love was a wonderful blessing. A blessing he was missing out on with Missy.

  “That’s a good girl, Beth. I’m happy that you obeyed Miss Rogers.” He scooped up his smiling daughter and hugged her.

  Beth’s little hands patted his shoulders then she pushed back. “Her name is Amy.”

  “It’s not proper for children to refer to adults by their first names.” Though his voice was gentle, he gave Beth a no-nonsense look.

  “What about Jonah and Sookie?”

  Micah chuckled at Beth’s response. Obviously his daughter had outsmarted him. Both Jonah and Sookie kept their expressions straight, but their eyes danced with mirth.

  “That’s different.”

  “How?”

  Ben sucked back a chuckle, and Micah eyeballed him with a glare.

  “If you don’t mind, I prefer Amy to Miss Rogers.” Her voice was soft, gentle, just like she was. Micah wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he’d forced himself to think of her as Miss Rogers so he could maintain a proper distance—but it was too late.

  “See! Amy, not Miss Wogers.” Beth’s eyes gleamed with a triumphant twinkle.

  Micah exhaled, knowing it was time to surrender. “All right, you may call her Amy, but only because that’s what she wishes.”

  “Pardon me.” Amy leaned past him to place a plate of bacon on the table. As she pulled back, his eyes locked with hers. He smiled, purposing to be nicer. Her thin brows dipped and dark eyes clouded with confusion. She darted away, like a startled doe in the woods.

  Remorse weighed him down. He remembered how short he’d been with her the past few weeks. He owed her an apology. Fine example of a Bible-believing man he’d been.

  Sookie put the eggs and biscuits on the table then sat next to Jonah. Micah remembered her shy thank-you the day before when he had freed her and offered to pay her to stay on and continue wet-nursing Missy and helping Amy. At least he’d done something right since returning home. He wondered if he ought to tell Amy that he had freed Sookie, but then he figured that Sookie would tell if she wanted to.

  “I wanna eat on your lap.” Beth scooted off her chair and onto his legs then picked up his fork as if the matter was settled. He would enjoy holding her while eating but didn’t want to start something he’d have to deal with at every meal.

  Gently he removed the fork from her little fist then hugged her. “That would be nice, Punkin, but you need to eat at your own place. You’re a big girl now and don’t need to be held while eating like baby Missy does.”

  That seemed to satisfy her. She slipped off his lap and onto her chair, tucked her napkin in the neck of her dress, looked around the table and declared, “I’m a big gool.”

  Jonah and Sookie chuckled. Even Ben woke up enough to smile. He took a big swig of his coffee then yawned again and scratched his head.

  Micah glanced at Amy to see if she’d noticed Beth’s antics. Amy stood next to the worktable spooning some strawberry jam from a jar into a small bowl. Even though she’d been cooking breakfast, the kitchen remained tidy. Loaves of uncooked bread sat in their tins, rising on the kitchen’s worktable, and a pot of beans was already soaking for the evening meal. Amazing. After Kathryn had cooked, the place always looked as if a cyclone had rumbled through. Having grown up with servants, she never quite adjusted to caring for a house. She’d tried though.

  He looked across the table into the parlor. The whole house was orderly and clean. Of course, Amy did have Sookie to help, but then again, they also had Missy to care for besides Beth.

  Amy set the jam on the table, removed her apron, and sat next to Beth. Micah said grace; then they started passing the platters laden with food. His mouth watered. He’d never eaten this well when Kathryn had cooked. More times than not her bread had sagged in the middle and had been doughy inside. Her bacon was always burnt, and her cornmeal mush lumpy.

  A shard of guilt pierced his chest, causing almost a physical pain. He shouldn’t be comparing the two women.

  “I—uh, hope you don’t mind that I asked Jonah to clean up that old spinnin
g wheel I found in the barn.” Amy’s gaze darted to his; then she concentrated on spooning food into Beth’s trencher.

  Micah glanced across the room to where his mother’s spinning wheel sat in the corner. It looked polished and at attention like a soldier awaiting orders. Warmth flooded him at the memory of nights by the fire in this house when he was a boy, watching his mother spin wool or flax. She often spun while rattling off math problems for him to decipher. The fact that she could do more than one thing at a time had amazed him.

  His grandmother had originally given the spinning wheel to her eldest daughter, but when Hester went west with her husband, they left it behind, hoping to one day return for it and a visit. Only that never happened. Micah’s mother had been thrilled to become the new guardian of such a family treasure.

  Did he mind Amy using his mother’s spinning wheel? Kathryn had never shown an interest in it. She had always managed to barter and not have to do the work herself. His heart warmed to have the spinning wheel in the house again. “No.” He looked at Amy. “I don’t mind if you use it.”

  Her lips curved up and her eyes gleamed. Knowing he’d put that smile on her face did odd things to his insides.

  ❧

  Was she imagining it, or was Micah being nicer to her? Was his attitude toward her changing? He’d certainly been pleasant at breakfast, almost as though he was pleased with her cooking and her bringing in the spinning wheel.

  He’d even asked her to call him by his first name, like she had. That thought tickled her insides. She’d wanted to call him Micah for a while now, but he had seemed to want to keep things formal between them.

  Amy crossed the room and studied the old spinning wheel. She would have understood if he hadn’t wanted her to use it, since Jonah had explained its heritage. She stroked the odd spoke with the heart etched out, wondering what it would feel like to have someone love you so much that he’d engrave a heart in wood as a symbol of that love.

  She jumped when the door banged open and hoped it didn’t cause Beth to get out of bed again. The girl had a hard time going down for a nap and often gave excuses for getting up before she finally went to sleep.