Pony Express Special Delivery

by Rhonda Gibson

  Maggie sliced a generous portion of cake for Clayton. She set the dessert beside him and then poured herself a cup of coffee. “Good. I was hoping that would be the case.”

  He continued eating.

  She sat quietly sipping on the hot coffee. Who would benefit from tearing down fences? If it had been just their ranch, Maggie would have thought it was Gus. But since it was others, too, she was at a loss as to who would do such a thing.

  Clayton finished the ham and potatoes and then pulled the cake toward him. He stuffed a generous portion into his mouth. “So, what was the screaming really about earlier?”

  His tired eyes seemed to tease her. Maggie frowned. She’d hoped to have distracted him.

  Now she would just have to be honest. “I heard something by the back door and thought it might be you, but you didn’t come inside. Then, I heard it again, got scared and locked the back door. I was about to lock the front door when you came barging in and scared the living daylights out of me.”

  He shook his head. “What does that even mean?”

  Maggie knew he was tired, but he wasn’t making any sense. “What does what mean?”

  “Living daylights?” He drank deeply of the black coffee.

  She frowned. “It means you scared me half to death.”

  “Half to death? Really? That has to be the stupidest saying I ever heard. How can anyone be scared half to death?” He continued eating, without looking up.

  Maggie couldn’t read his face since she couldn’t see it. Was he teasing her? Or being serious? She picked up his dirty plate and set it in the pan of water. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me, Clayton Young?”

  He looked up, startled. “No, why would you think that?”

  She couldn’t believe he was so thick. “Oh, never mind. We are both tired and need to get some rest.” Maggie glanced at the dirty dish in her pan. It would be fine soaking in the water. She was tired and her nerves were shot. She pulled her apron off and hung it on a hook beside the stove. “Good night, Clayton.”

  Maggie had almost made it out the door when he called, “Maggie?”

  Tired, cranky and a little out of sorts, she snapped, “What?”

  “Tomorrow morning, let me or Hal collect the chicken eggs. I’d like for you to stay inside.” He sounded tired and unsure.

  She turned to face him. Collecting the morning eggs always gave her a little time outdoors, and she enjoyed the fresh air. Maggie didn’t want to be cooped up inside all day like a brooding hen. “Why?”

  “Because I want to make sure you stay safe.” He stood up and took his dirty dishes to the washtub and eased them into the water.

  Was he trying to protect her? It was a sweet gesture, but Maggie had no intention of hiding in her house. “Safe from what, or should I say whom?”

  Clayton walked over to her. He titled her chin up with his hand. His blue eyes melded with hers. In a soft voice, he answered, “I don’t know, but it’s important that you do as I say.”

  She felt as if she might drown in the blue of his gaze. He was close enough she could smell the earthy scent that was purely Clayton Young. His hand felt warm on her chin, and she leaned into it.

  He ran his tongue over his lips. Mesmerized by the sight, Maggie watched as his face leaned close to hers. His breath felt warm against her face. She closed her eyes and waited.

  Nothing happened. She cracked her left eye open and found him watching her closely. Heat filled her cheeks. Maggie moved to pull her chin from his hand, but he refused to release her.

  His thumb swept back and forth on the underside of her chin. What was he doing? “Clayton, we’re both tired and need to go to bed.” She attempted to pull away once more.

  Clayton leaned forward and kissed her lips softly. Then drew away. “All right. Good night, Maggie.” He turned and walked away.

  Maggie stood in the kitchen doorway feeling stunned. How could he do that? Make her feel silly for wanting his kiss and then kiss her and leave? It hadn’t been an earth-shattering kiss, but her lips still tingled where his had touched them.

  She reached up and touched her chin where he’d held her in place. No man had ever made her feel the way Clayton did. He drew her in like a partner at a taffy pull but then released her just as quickly.

  His lips had left hers tasting sweet like the icing on the cake. Would she be able to avoid having feelings for him, if he continued to kiss her in such a sweet way?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Clayton watched as the Pony Express rider switched horses. The boy handed him a letter from his breast pocket. “A note from your family.” He put his heels into the Pony Express horse and then sped away before Clayton could react.

  He called after the boy, “Thanks, Peter. Godspeed!”

  Peter waved above his head but didn’t turn around. His job was to get the mail through.

  Clayton looked down at the envelope in his hand. It was addressed in his adoptive mother’s beautiful handwriting. He glanced at the house.

  Maggie, Dinah and baby James were on the front porch. Tucking the letter into his front shirt pocket, he walked into the barn and called for George.

  The older gentleman looked over a stall door. “I’m here.”

  Clayton walked to Bones and quickly pulled him from his stall. “Keep an eye on the family for me?”

  George nodded. “I always do.”

  Clayton cinched up the belt under the horse’s belly. “Thank you.” He double-checked to make sure the gear was on the horse properly.

  “If the missus asks where you are off to, what do I tell her?” George asked.

  He answered, “I’m going to check fence lines.” Clayton led Bones out into the yard. He didn’t look to the house. After last night, he wasn’t sure he trusted himself in Maggie’s presence.

  Clayton traveled the fence. The soft sounds of cows lowing in the pasture gave him a sense of peace. He pulled the letter from his pocket. What had his mother written? Was she angry she hadn’t heard from him? The little boy in him wanted to avoid opening the envelope.

  He turned the letter over and over in his gloved hand. Clayton wanted to open it but also feared its contents. What if something had happened to one of his adoptive brothers? They were Pony Express riders. What if one of them had gotten hurt or killed on the trail? Or what if something was wrong with Joy or Ben, his younger adoptive sister and brother?

  Clayton found himself riding to the hidden cove. He dismounted and walked to a nearby rock. The peacefulness of the place warred with the inner turmoil of what could be in the letter. His brother Andrew would scold him for worrying and tell him to just open the letter.

  He took his pocketknife out and ran the blade under the flap of the envelope. Once it was open, he put the knife away and pulled the letter out. Clayton swallowed hard and then began to read.

  Dear Clayton,

  I hope this note finds you doing well. We miss you here at the farm. Your brothers are all doing well and are happy. Ben is doing well in school. He’s smart like you and has discovered he loves reading. Joy is baking up a storm. She told me the other day that she wants to open a bakery in town when she grows up.

  Clayton stopped reading. Joy’s baking reminded him of Maggie’s cake, which led his thoughts back to kissing her. That kiss had kept him tossing and turning all night. She hadn’t pushed him away, and that bothered him almost as much as knowing he enjoyed kissing her. He brushed the thoughts away and continued with his letter.

  All the new mamas are doing well. Seth is treating me like one of those porcelain dolls that were in the general store at Christmas. Now that I’ve caught you up on the family, I would love it if you would drop us a line and let us know how you are doing.

  Love from home, Ma.

  Clayton folded the paper back up and p
ut it into the envelope. He swallowed. Relief that his family was safe washed over him. What would Ma say when she found out she’d missed his wedding? And that he was responsible for not only a wife but two children? He pushed off the rock and looked to Bones. “I miss my simple life of just riding you for hours on end.”

  The horse bobbed his head as if in agreement.

  He climbed back in the saddle and went in search of Abraham. While Clayton had been tossing and turning, he’d forced himself to think of other things besides kissing Maggie.

  Abraham was down in the west pasture. Clayton sat on the top of a small rise and watched as the younger man rode in the midst of a group of cattle. He took his time looking at each cow in turn. Bones eased down the rise.

  Clayton pulled Bones to a stop at the foot of the hill. He waited for Abraham to work his way back to him. The other man waved, indicating that he saw him.

  When Abraham came even with Clayton, he said, “Looks like we might have a couple more calves born later this month.”

  He sighed. “I figured as much. Seems ole Gus let that bull in with more than one cow. What do you suggest we do?”

  “Let’s move these to the pasture closest to the house. That way we’ll be able to keep a good eye on them and assist the mamas if we need to.”

  Clayton’s thoughts went back to when he’d first met Maggie. The memory of her large tear-filled eyes at the thought that her son was dead made a protectiveness swell within him. He’d protect her and the children with his life, if need be.

  “Are you all right?” Abraham leaned on his saddle horn, studying him.

  He nodded. “Yeah, was just thinking. That sounds like a good plan to me, too. I’ll help you cut the cows out of the herd.”

  Together they rounded up the cows. It was an easy ride back to the front pasture. Clayton watched as the round-bellied cows moved slowly into the new pasture. They didn’t seem to mind being moved from one place to another.

  Clayton found his thoughts taking him once more to when he’d first arrived here. He’d looked forward to new beginnings. Only in his wildest dreams could he have imagined the twists and turns his life had taken. He’d gone from being a single man with one responsibility, to being married with two small children in his care, with a ranch to oversee and his medical studies to complete. His plate had filled up in a hurry.

  “I’m going to check the other pastures and see if we have any more early births coming our way,” Abraham told him.

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  Abraham looked him over. “You are the owner of this ranch. You are welcome to come any time you want and you don’t need my permission.” He tilted his hat back on his head.

  Clayton laughed. “Let’s get a couple of things straight here. I am not the owner of this ranch—James Fillmore and his mother are the owners. I am only an overseer.”

  “Do you seriously expect me to believe that?”

  Clayton felt his eyes narrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Did Abraham and the men think he’d married Maggie to take over the ranch? Was Abraham insinuating that he was no better than Gus? His hands tightened on the reins. Bones twitched under him.

  Abraham held his hands up. “I only meant that James is a baby and Mrs. Young is a woman. You are the man and the head of the house and this ranch. No disrespect to Mrs. Young, but she doesn’t know the first thing about running a farm, let alone a ranch.”

  He forced his body to relax. Everything Abraham had said was true. “Well, you are the foreman and I expect you to make ranch decisions. If I need to be doing something to help out, you are free to tell me you’d like my help. As for James and Maggie, you’re right. James is a baby, but we will teach him how to run the ranch when he’s old enough to start learning.” Clayton rubbed his chin. “I suppose we should start educating Maggie now, but with the baby and Dinah, I’m not sure how we can do that. So for now, you are the foreman, I am the overseer...” Abraham’s laugh stopped him in midsentence. “What’s so funny?”

  “Boss, ‘overseer’ is a fancy word for ‘boss.’”

  Clayton knew Abraham was right. It was another responsibility that he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. He sighed heavily and nodded. “Okay, for now I’m the boss, but don’t call me boss. Clayton is my name, and that’s what I expect all the men to call me. Be sure to mention that to the others.”

  “Deal.” Abraham’s horse stomped his foot. “Now, are you coming with me?”

  “Yep, I want to talk to you about hiring some more men. I’m thinking maybe three or four. I know we’ve already hired some, so you may have other ideas. What do you think?”

  Abraham turned his horse with a nod. “I was thinking about that, too. The more men we have on the land, the better our chances are of keeping highwaymen and the like off the ranch. I can send Bud to town tomorrow morning to get the word out that we are still hiring.”

  “That sounds good. I’ll ask Maggie to make a few fliers to hang about town.”

  Clayton spent the rest of the afternoon checking the cows and taking the ones that they suspected of having early births to the front pasture. As he worked, Clayton wondered what Maggie and the children were doing. He spent an awful lot of time thinking about them, and he didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. Would things change between him and Maggie since he’d kissed her?

  * * *

  Maggie loved her weekly trips into town. A week had passed since Clayton’s kiss. She hated to admit it but there wasn’t a day gone by that she didn’t think of that sweet moment. Of course, neither of them mentioned the kiss, but the tension between them was as thick as molasses on a cold winter’s day.

  Clayton had ridden Bones into town, leaving her to drive the wagon. His excuse was that he wanted to take the horse to the blacksmith to get new shoes. Maggie suspected it was so that they wouldn’t need to ride side by side on the wagon bench.

  Pulling up in front of the general store, Maggie glanced over her shoulder at baby James and Dinah. The baby had been tucked into a basket and had been content to play with his feet while Dinah strung wooden beads on a piece of yarn.

  Clayton jumped from Bones’s back and hurried to help her down from the wagon. He placed a hand on her back as she climbed down. “Do you want me to take the baby with me while I go to the blacksmith’s and then over to visit with Doc?”

  Ignoring the warmth where his hand had rested, Maggie turned to face him. “Thank you, but no, I’ll take him with me.” She waited for Clayton to hand her the baby.

  His gaze met hers. “I don’t mind taking him, Maggie.” He turned to help Dinah from the wagon bed.

  It would be easier to shop if the baby wasn’t in her arms.

  “Or, Dinah here can go with me if she wants to.” He placed Dinah on the boardwalk beside Maggie.

  “I don’t want to go to the doctor’s,” Dinah said, clutching her skirt.

  Maggie patted the little girl’s head with her free hand. “You don’t have to go.” She handed James to Clayton.

  With ease, he placed the baby in the crook of his arm, tilting him just so that James could look about. Clayton tucked the blankets tighter around the baby and then turned with a grin. “You ladies have fun shopping while us men go take care of manly things.”

  “We’ll try,” Maggie said, walking to the door.

  She turned in surprise when he reached over her head and pushed the door open for her and Dinah to enter. Maggie had thought he’d leave immediately, but instead he had followed them. “Did you need me to pick up something for you?” she asked.

  “No, I thought I’d see if they had any store-bought shirts in my size.” He walked toward the back where men’s clothing, boots and other necessaries were.

  Maggie followed. “I can make you new shirts, Clayton. I am a pretty good seamstress, if I do say so my
self.”

  He turned to look at her. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be any bother.”

  “Sewing for one’s husband is hardly a bother.” She giggled. “Most husbands insist.”

  Clayton looked at her as if he were about to say, “Well, I’m not most husbands.” But instead he clamped his lips closed.

  Ignoring his sour look, Maggie said, “Follow me to the fabric. You can pick out the colors you like.” She turned around and walked away. Maggie held her breath as she walked, then exhaled once she heard his boots following her.

  Dinah skipped ahead of them both. She went straight to the candy counter when Maggie thought she’d stop at the fabric.

  Maggie ran her hand over the cotton fabric. “Which colors do you like?”

  Clayton’s gaze searched the table. “Nothing with flowers,” he grunted.

  She giggled. “No flowers for you. Got it.”

  “I like these two.” He pointed to a solid white and a light brown.

  If it had been her choice, she would have gotten the light blue and the green. “All right.” Maggie carried the two bolts to the counter.

  “Sissy? Can I have some lemon drops?”

  Maggie laid the bolts down. “Not right now. Maybe after I’m all done with my shopping.”

  “Oh, then I’ll keep looking.” Dinah pressed her nose to the glass that separated her from the jars of colorful candy.

  Clayton had followed her once more. He knelt beside Dinah. “I like those.” He pointed to a jar with big red balls in it.

  “Me, too.” Dinah looked at him with big eyes.

  “If you are a good girl, maybe we’ll get you a few of both.”

  Mrs. Fisher came from behind a curtain and stood behind the counter. “I’d be especially good, if I were you, Dinah. Those red balls are solid and take a week or more to eat. You’ll have candy for a long time.” She winked at Clayton as he stood.

  Maggie felt anger begin to boil in the pit of her stomach. What was Mrs. Fisher doing winking at Clayton? The woman was married!

  “Oh, hello, Maggie. I didn’t see you standing there. Do you have a list I can help you with?” She came around the counter and walked over to Clayton. Mrs. Fisher touched the baby’s little face and grinned. “This little man is getting bigger every time I see him.” She smiled up into Clayton’s eyes.