“Do you have any idea how utterly absurd you look with Wren’s lace-edged handkerchief dangling from one of your nostrils?”
THIRTY-FOUR
“There, now, Ty Morgan, don’t you worry about John. I counted all the way to ninety-nine before we got here so the bleeding should have stopped.”
Ty reached for Henrietta’s pudgy hand.
“Oh, and I have a little surprise for you,” she said. “Right here in my reticule, if you would be so kind as to help me out of this wagon.”
Listening to this woman babble was one thing, but it was the twinkle of victory in William’s eyes as he’d escorted the sisters to see Robin that irked him. And Doc was no help—telling Benson to take all the time they needed because it would do Robin more good than any medicine.
Henrietta straightened her skirts. “Hand me my parasol. It’s right there behind the basket of food Florence Blair sent along. She’s such a dear, and Anna, too. They’re leaving, you know? Oh, of course. If anyone would know it would most certainly be you. Oh, those dear girls from Chicago. I was just telling Albert, I says to him, ‘Albert, even though these young ladies have come to see their sister, I doubt they will want to start cooking right away,’ so it was indeed a blessing that my dear friend thought of sending—”
“Yes, it was very thoughtful, Henrietta. I will send her a note of appreciation along with you when you return to Cedar Bluff, if you don’t mind. I’m sure you’re anxious to get back to town, what with the post office and all.”
Henrietta patted his hand. “Never you mind the post office. I just put a note on the door saying we went on an errand of mercy to deliver food and cheer to Ty Morgan. Now, if you would be so kind as to offer me a cup of cool water, I must get out of this sun. With skin as lovely as mine I mustn’t expose it to the harsh elements.”
Ty ducked as she flipped open her parasol. “Would you please hold this for me, Ty? I mustn’t forget your surprise.” She handed him her parasol while she dug in her reticule, then fanned herself with the envelope she brought forth. “Florence Blair asked that I deliver this. Of course, I was only too willing—knowing you must be most anxious to hear her news.” She sniffed the envelope. “Oh my, Florence has such lovely things. Even her stationery is scented.”
Ty took the letter. “Let’s get you out of this sun, Henrietta.” He took her by the arm, picked up the basket of food, and urged her toward the house. Mrs. Blair had not penned the missive he held in his hand. He recognized both the handwriting and the scent of lilacs.Anna.
Ty opened the kitchen door to find Emma facing John, one hand on the old man’s shoulder. He set the basket of food on the table. “Get too crowded up there?”
Blushing, Emma took a step back. “That, and this crazy old man needed more attention than Robin.” She handed John the wet cloth she held in her hand. “Here, put this on the back of your neck.”
She motioned for Henrietta to sit. “How nice of you to bring food. Heaven knows no one has taken the time to do much cooking since Robin’s accident. Could I get you a cup of cool water?”
“I’d like buttermilk, please, Emma.” Henrietta fanned herself with her hands. “Florence Blair sent the food. She’s leaving town, you know. I’m sworn to secrecy—though everyone knows I would never divulge a confidence—but John, I don’t suppose you could ever guess whom she will visit?”
John snorted. “If you’re sworn to secrecy I ain’t supposed to be guessin’, am I?”
“Oh, you funny man.” Henrietta covered her mouth with three fingers and batted her eyelashes. “Do the initials E. P. remind of you anything? I did offer to find an address, you know.”
Emma sloshed the glass of buttermilk into John’s lap, and Ty squelched a laugh.
“Oh, how clumsy of me. I’ll get you another one, Henrietta.”
“You mind gettin’ me somethin’ to sop this stuff off my lap?”
“Use the cloth from the back of your neck.” Emma was back in a minute and set a fresh glass of refreshment on the table for Henrietta.
“This rag is wet.” John’s scowl deepened. He mouthed to Ty, What’d I do?
Emma sat beside Henrietta and folded her hands on the table. “How thoughtful of Florence to take time from her busy schedule to think of us.”
“If you’ll excuse me, ladies—and gentleman—I have some business to attend to.” Ty nodded to each. He winked at John. “Looks like you’re in good hands.
Henrietta would no doubt keep them occupied long enough for him to read Anna’s letter. He climbed the stairs then paused outside Robin’s door. Should he knock, and let Doc know where he was? That was unnecessary. Doc knew he was across the hall.
He moved a soiled shirt from the rocking chair by his window and stretched his legs in front of him as he slid one finger under the rose-shaped seal. He unfolded the paper and Anna’s familiar fragrance wafted through the room.
My Dearest Ty: It’s only fair that you hear what I have to say from me, before dear Henrietta tells you. By the time you read this, Mother and I will be on our way to Pennsylvania. I intend to finish my schooling, and Mother will visit an old friend, Eunice Parker, for a few weeks. I want to thank you, once again, for your forgiveness. When I think of how badly I hurt so many people it breaks my heart. I thank you, too, for praying that night in the church for peace that would pass all understanding. You shall always be my first love, Tyler Morgan, and a piece of my heart will remain in these hills forever. But my fervent prayer is for Robin to recover and take her rightful place as the mistress of the Hawk. Your mother would have loved her. Farewell, my dear friend. I seal this letter with all the love of our youth and one last kiss. I wish you only joy and happiness.
Anna Kathryn Blair
###
Emma and John were still in the kitchen when Ty emerged from reading Anna’s letter.
“Bad news, Ty?”
He shook his head at Emma’s raised eyebrows. “Later, Emma.”
Laying a hand on John’s shoulder he motioned for him to follow and headed for the bunkhouse. “Have you seen Sam or his pa this morning? I need to talk to him and would like for you to be in on the conversation.”
“He weren’t around when I rode out. Ain’t seen nobody since then ’cept a whole bunch of womenfolk a squawkin’ around like hens what just saw a fox.”
“It was quiet when I brought Henrietta to the house. That hand on your shoulder wasn’t making a sound.” Ty grinned.
“Don’t get no ideas. Henrietta and her talk of E.P. done took care of any notions you might think on. And I stink like sour milk.”
Ty glanced at John. He’d sure like to ask him aboutE.P., but he’d save it for another time. “Where is Henrietta? You didn’t let her go to town alone, did you?”
“Didn’t let her, but reckon I didn’t stop her neither. Albert will find her if she has trouble on the way home. Surprised you didn’t hear her leave. That woman can out-puff Kansas wind.” He grabbed Ty’s arm. “Jumpin’ bullfrogs, you’re gonna walk me to my death if you don’t slow down a mite. Remember I done lost a whole lot of blood. What’s your big hurry? Sam said they weren’t goin’ nowhere.”
They reached the bunkhouse, and Ty fished the letter from his pocket. “Here. Read this."
John hitched one foot up on the small bench on the porch of the bunkhouse and mouthed each word as he read. He refolded the letter and handed it back.
“Well?” Ty peered into the older man’s face.
“Well, what?” John wiped his forehead with his bandana. “If you is a askin’ me what to do next, don’t.”
“Could you talk with Obed and find out what he plans to do with Jacob? Robin deserves to know.”
“And I’ll ask you again—what’s your hurry? Doc ain’t sayin’ when or if she’ll be able to even go back to the Feather, let alone tryin’ to keep up with the little tornado.”
“What if she wouldn’t have to go back to the Feather?”
“You aim on keepin’ her here, are ya?”
&n
bsp; “It’s on my mind, yes.”
“And that Benson fella has it on his mind to take her back to Chicago. You’re both a forgettin’ Robin’s got a mind of her own. Seems to me she’s the one what needs to be answerin’ your questions instead of me.”
“I can offer her more, John. And if we can keep Jacob—”
“You offerin’ her a ten-room house to clean and a boy to raise is more? A bunkhouse full of men to cook for is more? More than what, Ty? Ya got a ranch to run and a church full of people what think they own ya, and you owe them.”
Ty clenched his fists. “My ma did it. And so did yours.”
“Neither my pa or yours could offer anything else. It was all they knew, this land and cattle and all that goes with it. But William can give Robin a choice. Ya need to let her be the one what decides.”
“What choice? Stuffy old ladies playing cards all day and planning dinner parties where everyone dresses like monkeys and smiles when they don’t feel like it? Are you telling me William Arthur Benson the Third doesn’t have a ten-room house, and that he won’t one day want to fill it with his offspring?”
“I’m tellin’ ya that somebody else would be cleanin’ them rooms. Robin wouldn’t need to tote water from the well or tramp outdoors when she was wantin’ to use the necessary. And they could probably convince one of her sisters to be their nanny.” John shook his head. “Don’t forget my brother left three of them little birds in the nest. Robin ain’t gonna want to fly away and leave the other two clingin’ to a branch what’s just a flappin’ in the wind.”
“I thought your offer of a home included the sisters. I can’t lose her, John. I want to talk with Sam and his pa. I’m as fond of the boy as Robin, and I intend to do everything I can to convince them to stay on here.”
“What you gonna do with another old man? Ain’t I enough bother?”
Ty shrugged. “Maybe Emma could put him to work in her mercantile.”
John knocked on the bunkhouse door. “I’ll listen to you, Ty. But don’t you go puttin’ ideas in Emma’s head.”
“Why not give Emma a choice? Let her make up her own mind, John? Could it be the Eunice Parker mentioned in Anna’s letter might be the initials E.P. that Henrietta mentioned? She’s from here originally, isn’t she? You ever heard of her?”
John’s mouth hung open, his hand in the air.
At that moment, Obed opened the door with his finger over his lips. “The boy’s still sound asleep. Would you mind if we stayed on the porch?”
“Is Sam still asleep?” Ty grinned as John ducked his head. “Mr. Wenghold, here, is real good at giving advice, but doesn’t much like to listen to it, even if it’s his own.”
Obed chuckled. “Haven’t you ever heard it’s more blessed to give than to receive? I’m sorry, but I was a preacher too long to let that opportunity pass. Sam rode out earlier with a young man by the name of Albert. I think they were going to try to get your horse, Mr. Wenghold.”
“I reckon my horse would’ve found his way back without their help, but I’m obliged.” John moved to a chair on the porch. “I got throwed this mornin’ by that crazy animal, and I’m not too proud to tell ya these old bones hit the ground mighty hard. Think I’ll sit a spell.”
“Did you sleep at all, Mr. Morgan?” Obed lowered himself to the porch with a groan. “Me and Sam sat up till daybreak. Guess we both got some stuff off our chests, and tucked away a whole lot more in our hearts.”
Ty took advantage of the opening. “I know it’s soon to be asking, but have you given any thought to what you will do with Jacob?”
“Oh, I’ve been giving that question thought since the day I left Missouri looking for my girl. But I never expected to find Sam, too. That puts a different curve to the road I planned to take.”
Ty’s pulse quickened. Maybe he could help straighten that curve a bit. “You mentioned being a preacher. Do you have a church waiting for you in Missouri?”
“Son, I don’t have anything or anyone waiting for me anywhere. The powers that be sent a young man from the city to fill the pulpit full-time before I left, and it made leaving a whole lot easier. The neighbor’s put his plow in what little ground I have, and he’s welcome to my cabin. I figured I would catch up with my girl, then go wherever she headed.”
“Then you won’t be taking Sam back to your farm?”
“I don’t think I could get Sam to leave here. You’ve been downright good to him. If you hadn’t given him a job, we’d never have met up again. I’m grateful.”
Ty paced the length of the porch. “Mr. Mason? Would you still preach if you were to find a church?”
Obed’s eyes misted. “You going to build me a church, young man? And what would I do with Jacob? Being a preacher involves being away from home so much. Sam would be the first to tell you I wasn’t there when he needed me the most. Finding Jacob gives me a second chance.”
“Would you be open to listening to a plan that might help us all?”
Obed nodded. “Talk away. All I have right now is time.”
THIRTY-FIVE
William lit the lamp on the bedside table in the bunkhouse. Alone at last, he could read the message his father sent with Wren. Doc had given strict orders no one was to see Robin again until after noon the next day. The only consolation being Ty couldn’t see her, either. He slipped off his boots and propped his feet on the bed while he read.
Dear Son: I trust the Wenghold girls arrived safely and in time to see their sister. I thought it best not to apprise them of her condition since they were traveling alone. I hope that didn’t cause undue anxiety when they arrived.
It is difficult for me to write this letter. Lionel Wenghold was one of my dearest friends, and I would never want to be accused of dishonoring him in any way. However, your mother and I are very concerned over your seemingly over-exaggerated need to marry Robin to insure her future well-being. She is a fine girl, but you must consider your future as well. With her known infirmity and the unknown complications that might arise from this injury, you would, we fear, be taking on not a helpmeet, but rather an unnecessary burden. Lionel’s wish was only to see that his girls were provided for, and I’m prepared to purchase their home at above-market price. By investing the money, and their being able to live so unpretentiously out on the prairie with their uncle, they would be assured of a rather substantial monthly income.
This matter concerns us so greatly that we’re asking you to return to Chicago as soon as you can make arrangements. In time, I believe you will see the wisdom behind this appeal. Your mother’s cousin sent word her daughter, Lucille, will travel to Chicago for the summer and wishes to stay with us. She will need an escort to the various functions she will attend while here. This would be a very advantageous arrangement, William, and there is no room for further discussion.
William Arthur Benson, II
William wadded the letter and threw it at the wall. This was absurd. He was a grown man, not some irresponsible boy. His father knew why he’d made the trip to Kansas. He also had to be aware of how much he desired to carry on the family tradition of banking.
He slammed the door behind him then stomped to the house. With any luck at all, he would find John alone and––
“You better think twice before you go marchin’ into the house like what you is doin’ now.”
William stopped short. The light from inside spilled onto the porch, revealing John and Emma in the swing.
John eyed him. “You come lopin’ up here like you got a race to win.”
“I guess you might say I do. I hoped you could maybe help me.” He propped one foot on the porch. “But I don’t want to interrupt anything.”
Emma smiled. “You’re not interrupting a thing, William. I need to check on Robin, anyway, if John will just stop this swing so I can get up.”
“Well, I say he done come between me and a nice breeze what was a blowin’ in my face, but I reckon I can stop it long enough for you to get to your feet.” John helped
Emma stand. “Now, you get some rest, you hear?”
Emma patted William’s shoulder as she passed him. “Watch him, William—he’s bossy tonight.”
John waited for Emma to enter the house then moved to a chair on the porch “Now, what’s got you in such a lather?”
William handed him the letter from his father and waited while John positioned himself to see it from the light which filtered from inside—then waited for what seemed a lifetime while John mouthed each word. Finally, he methodically folded the paper and handed it back.
“You ain’t thinkin’ I’m gonna tell you what to do, are ya?” John drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair.
“I hoped you would, but I knew you wouldn’t.”
“Seems to me we done had this conversation before, but I’ll ask ya again—why did you come here in the first place?”
William shrugged. Why did he come? Guilt? Duty? Maybe his parents were right in calling his motives overly exaggerated. “I promised her pa I would look out for her. I thought by making her my wife I would be doing that.”
“Do you love her?” John leaned toward him. “Can you look her in the eyes, like I’m a lookin’ into yours, and tell her you love her?”
“I’m willing to marry her.”
John leaned back, his arms across his chest. “That’s the wrong answer, son. Let me ask you this—are you just as willing to give up a position in your papa’s bank?”
“I don’t know anything else. It’s what I’ve been trained to do since I was old enough to tell a dime from a nickel.” He wiped his forehead with the flat of his hand. “It’s the only way I know to provide for Robin."
“You worked on your uncle’s ranch, didn’t you? That ain’t providin’? Tell that to Ty if you got the nerve.”
“Ty’s working his own ranch, sir, not his uncle’s. There’s a difference.”
John leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. “And they’s a difference between money and providin’. See, you can trot on down to your fancy bank ever’ day and count money and loan money and lose money and bring home money, and still not be providin’ for your family. If you don’t love her, you can’t tote home enough dimes and nickels to call it providin’.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms again. “Now, you be thinkin’ on that before you go tryin’ to convince Robin, or yourself, that marryin’ up with you is what’s best for her.”
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