The Rancher Inherits a Family

by Cheryl St. John

  Marigold’s hair was a bright nimbus in the sun. He imagined he could smell orange blossom and almond, and his gut tightened. Seeing the former sheriff standing so near to her gave him a sick feeling. “Whatever she puts her mind to, she does well.”

  “Buck is respected in town,” she added.

  “She could do worse.”

  A few others ventured over to the other pit and threw practice pitches. Old Horace and Gus showed up and stood watching.

  “Think Horace and Gus will be a team?” she asked.

  “Those two spend as much time arguing as they do playing,” Daniel said from behind them.

  Leah turned and slipped her arm around her husband’s waist. “Did you sign up?”

  “No. Did you want to join?”

  She shook her head. “Seth would make a fine partner, though.”

  Daniel glanced at him. “Want to compete? The prizes are good. We could get fortunate. Win a couple of Hannah’s shirts.”

  “I forgot about your arm,” Leah added.

  “Dr. Mason wouldn’t be happy with me using it, but I can try with my left arm. I’ve been forced to use it a lot.”

  “We’d better sign up and get in a few practice throws then,” Daniel suggested.

  Seth joined Daniel at the makeshift sign-up table, and then they waited in a line to do a little practicing. He noted Marigold and Buck had relinquished their shoes to others and stood together on the sidelines. She looked to be having a grand time.

  “Seth! Are you competing?”

  He glanced over and found Molly on her toes, waving. He gave her a polite nod.

  “I’ll be cheering for you!”

  Daniel raised an eyebrow, and Seth ignored the unspoken question. His partner only took a couple of throws and let Seth do more practicing. Seth didn’t get a ringer, as he likely would have with his other arm, but he didn’t do too badly. They joined the crowd gathering to watch the games.

  At last the bell rang and Reverend Taggart called for the teams to line up. They drew straws for positions, and Marlys Mason and Hannah took over the scoring position from chairs at a safe distance.

  “How has it gone with Miss Brewster staying at your place?” Daniel asked him as they waited their turn.

  “She and my mother get along,” Seth told him. “She’s good with the children, and they’re attached to her.”

  “We don’t seem to keep teachers in that position long. We’ve talked about a man next time.”

  Seth remembered Will expressing the same concerns. “I don’t see her giving up her teaching position,” Seth reassured him, as he had with Will. “She’s devoted.”

  “Even if she marries one of these suitors?”

  “I can’t speak for her.”

  “Well, Buck’s a terrific fellow. He seems to have earned her favor.”

  Seth glanced along the line until he spotted Marigold listening to something Buck was saying. “Can’t fault him for the attention.”

  Buck and Marigold’s turn came after a few rounds, and they took their places. She appeared nervous, but he spoke to her.

  “I reckon Buck has a few things to teach Miss Brewster!” one of the men called out, heckling from the sidelines, drawing laughter.

  “We’ll see if she’s been studying her lessons,” another replied.

  Marigold paused in her preparation and set a hand on her hip. “Give me a couple of turns here, and I’ll teach you how to spell ‘winner’!”

  A cry went up from the crowd, and the jester gave her a dismissive wave, but joined in the laughter.

  Beside Seth, Daniel laughed, too.

  Seth didn’t know the first thing about impressing or courting a woman. He was a rancher, spent his days with horses and his nights exhausted from the day’s work. He wondered what Buck said to her, what kind of things they talked about. Seth hadn’t missed her cozy lunch with Kip Lawson, either. The barber wasn’t a ladies’ man, but obviously he’d invited her, shared the meal with her. Perhaps it was to Seth’s disadvantage that she was living with his family. He didn’t feel right about intruding on her free time.

  What he knew about women he could fit on the head of a pin. But he’d barged right ahead and kissed her. How coarse did she think him now?

  Buck threw his horseshoe first and it landed against the pin. Marigold took her time with a few easy swings and let her shoe fly. It didn’t sail smoothly, but it landed within a shoe’s width of the pin.

  “One point!” Reverend Taggart called.

  The crowd cheered.

  Marigold laid her hand on Buck’s sleeve and jumped up and down, her red-gold curls bouncing.

  Seth didn’t do poorly when it was his turn. He landed a few shoes near enough to earn points. After several rounds, however, he and Daniel were eliminated and watched those still in the final competition.

  Marigold and Buck were holding on in third place. One team fell out. Timothy Watson landed a ringer that earned him applause, but Buck landed a shoe on top, which canceled both their points and made Marigold’s shoe leaning against the pin the winning point.

  They accepted their prizes amidst the shouts of their friends and the good-natured teasing from their opponents. Marigold was so lovely, so bright and effervescent, the sight of her smile took Seth’s breath away. Her scent was in his head, and just looking at her from this distance, he could smell citrus and almond. His chest ached with suppressed feelings for her.

  Before he could obsess on her another minute, the tables were uncovered, and the bell rang to invite townspeople to help themselves to the remaining dishes and desserts.

  His mother brought him a slice of apple pie, which was his favorite. Little John followed closely at her side. “You did very well for being at a disadvantage,” she told him.

  Which disadvantage did she mean? Yes, his arm, of course. He took the pie. “Thank you.”

  With Tate and Harper in tow, Marigold found him. Each of them carried a plate of food.

  Tate looked up at him with an eager expression. “Will you teach us to play horseshoes?”

  “You want to learn to play, do you?” He picked up on their excitement. “Maybe Marigold would be a better teacher,” he teased. “She’s the winner after all.”

  Marigold’s face was prettily flushed, her eyes bright with good humor. “I think it was just a fluke.”

  Tate looked from her to Seth. “You can both teach us.”

  He grinned. “That sounds like a grand idea.”

  “The boys were hoping we could all sit together for a while,” she told him.

  Evelyn gestured for them to follow her. “I’ll unfold our blankets.” She spread two blankets, giving them all room to sit. She gave Little John half a buttered biscuit. “I’m going to get myself a little something.”

  She was immediately sidetracked by one of her friends and stopped to talk.

  Tate situated his plate on his lap. “Are them real honest-to-goodness horseshoes, Seth?”

  “Yep.”

  “Like what’s on the horses?” Harper asked.

  He swallowed his bite of pie. “Yep.”

  Tate picked up a drumstick. “They sure sound loud when they hit together.”

  “You should hear the sound when the blacksmith is pounding the iron into shape.”

  Tate’s eyes got wide. “He bends that iron into a shape?”

  Seth nodded. “Holds the iron with tongs, gets it glowing hot over a forge and hammers it until it bends to the shape he wants.”

  “I wished I could see that.”

  After finishing his pie, Seth picked up the crumbs surrounding Little John. “I’ll take you boys one day soon and you can watch Colton Werner.”

  Harper jiggled where he sat, showing his excitement.

  “That’s Mrs. Werner’s husband,” Marigold told them.
“Little Joseph’s daddy.”

  “I can’t wait to see that,” Tate told them with a serious expression.

  “I grew up on a big ranch with a lot of horses,” Seth said. “I remember being your age and watching the farrier shoe them.”

  Little John got up and tripped on the wrinkles in the blanket, picked himself up and backed up to sit on Seth’s lap. Seth adjusted him more comfortably. “Did you have enough to eat?”

  The child looked up at him and nodded. His imploring face and solemn eyes grew more dear each day. Immediately, he stuck his thumb into his mouth and leaned against Seth’s chest. His outdoorsy little-boy scent held a touch of soap and a splash of sunshine. His solid little body relaxed until he was sound asleep. Seth ran his fingers through his silky pale hair, threading the locks away from his face. With three boys and himself, they would soon become very good customers at Kip’s barber shop.

  Running a thumb over the boy’s soft cheek, he imagined these children growing up, turning into strapping youths and eventually young men. He had a big responsibility ahead of him. Perhaps bigger than any other that had come before.

  He glanced at Marigold, finding her watching him, studying his expression. He wished he knew the thoughts behind those wide hazel eyes. He wished he was a smooth talker, comfortable with initiating conversations, a man with the ability to be charming...or at the very least agreeable. He wanted to make her smile, take her hand, win her favor. He wanted to kiss her again.

  Her gaze fluttered across his face, to his mouth, as though she knew his thoughts—as though she was thinking about that kiss, too.

  Evelyn returned, disrupting his reverie. “Have you heard anything about a coal-mining operation around here?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Seems they put up a sign on a building yesterday. Mitchell Coal and Mining Company, it says.”

  “Where at?”

  “On the corner of Lincoln Boulevard, across from the lumber yard. All the way south of Remmy Hagermann’s store.”

  “By the railroad there? No, I’ve heard nothing about it.”

  “I’m sure we’ll hear news of it soon.”

  The dinner bell rang again, garnering the attention of everyone in the wide churchyard and those still around the horseshoe pits behind Booker & Son.

  “Gather around, if you will!” Will Canfield called. “We have something more we want to do before this day ends.” He and Daniel stood near the corner of the church, their wives and children with them. The townspeople gathered to learn what was happening.

  Seth stood with his family and Marigold, Little John still sound asleep over his shoulder. Eventually a hush fell over the people.

  “Daniel, you go ahead, please,” Will said.

  “You all probably know that this community started out as a dream. Our friend Noah Burgess moved here and staked a claim. He saw the potential in the land and the location and, after the war, sent word to Will and me, asking us to come and see what he’d discovered. It was a small quiet town with a stage stop and a few scattered homesteaders. And then the Union Pacific approached, bringing Texas cattlemen looking to ship beef east. Before long this spot was chosen for a terminus.

  “Will, here, ever the entrepreneur, knew we needed to buy up land, so we did. Obviously, he bought more than I did.”

  The people laughed.

  “I built the stockyards and lured in the cattlemen. It wasn’t a year until Cowboy Creek went from a few storefronts and settlers with sod houses to the town the newspapers back east were calling the next boom town.”

  A cheer went up.

  Little John roused and looked around. Seth patted his back.

  Daniel gave Will a nod.

  “This town wouldn’t be anything without all of you,” Will told them. “Without the merchants, the ranchers, farmers, businessmen. Without the families who left everything behind and took a chance on a little Kansas town. Without the women who have traveled all this way to meet husbands and start families.”

  Whistles and whoops prevented Will from talking for several minutes.

  “And this town would be nothing without the sense of community and family and the sacrifices each of you has made. Aunt Mae takes in these ladies, watches over them and makes them feel at home. Thank you, Aunt Mae!”

  Aunt Mae waved an apron in the air and smiled from ear to ear.

  “Each one of you had a part in helping out recently when the train carrying our newest brides and our schoolteacher derailed just outside our town. The town council wants to show our appreciation. If you helped search cars for trapped or injured passengers, if you housed a passenger, if you doctored someone or had a part in the rescue that day, please come up here.”

  Men hesitated at first, and then slowly made their way forward, encouraged by their friends.

  “Go on up there, Seth,” someone behind him said.

  With an encouraging smile, Marigold reached to take Little John from his arms.

  Someone else gave him a little shove. He joined a growing line of men and one or two women, including Marlys Mason, until Will and Daniel thought the line was complete. At least thirty people stood with the two founders.

  Will studied the men and women standing with them. “This isn’t nearly enough to say thanks, but the council has a little something for each of you. We want you to select six of these, and any remaining are going to the park across from the school.”

  “Come on, James!” Daniel shouted.

  Dressed in buckskins and a dun-colored hat, James Johnson drove a team from the other side of the church, the wagon behind coming into view. In the back was a forest of young trees, all tall sturdy saplings.

  A collective cheer went up, and everyone applauded.

  “Fruit trees,” Will said. “Shipped from Vermont. There’s enough for each of you to choose half a dozen.”

  The generous gift took Seth by surprise. Freddie Simms slapped him on the shoulder. “How long will it take to get fruit?”

  “Couple of years, I suppose.”

  The men good-naturedly chose their trees. Aunt Mae just laughed and told Will to plant hers over at the park. “And then send someone to pick apples for me!”

  “We’ll do just that!” he replied.

  Seth selected three apple trees, and one each of peach, cherry and walnut. He loaded them in the wagon and told Evelyn what he’d chosen.

  “I knew you’d get those apple trees,” she said with a laugh.

  Six trees and rope to steady them took up a lot of room. On the ride home Marigold rode on the seat with Little John beside her, as Evelyn led the team. Seth had squeezed into a corner of the wagon with Dewey and the other two boys.

  “Who’s going to help me keep these watered?” he asked, as the boys watched Dewey help him unload them into a spot where they’d be shaded near the house for now.

  All three shouted and jumped in their willingness to help.

  Marigold joined his mother in corralling them into the house for their bedtime ritual. Seth waved them on. “I’ll be there shortly.”

  As Evelyn opened the door, Peony shot around her ankles and darted across the porch. “Oh, Marigold, I’m sorry. I didn’t see her there.”

  “Peony!” Marigold turned to run after her.

  Chapter Eleven

  At Marigold’s sharp cry Seth ran toward the house.

  The orange cat stopped in her tracks and sat on her haunches, looking around, apparently confused over her sudden freedom.

  Seth stopped as well, hoping not to further frighten the animal. He crouched low and spoke softly. “C’mere, Peony. Here, kitty. Here, girl.”

  Marigold gathered her skirts and descended the porch stairs, moving slowly and quietly.

  Peony’s head swiveled to look at her.

  “Hello, sweetheart,” she cooed. “Be a good kitty
and stay right there.”

  Peony lowered her head and flattened her body in a crouching position. She glanced around and got back on her feet.

  In the distance, the sound of the stable door sliding open startled her, and she darted off at a run.

  “Peony!” Marigold chased after her.

  Seth joined her and ran ahead. With both the cat and Marigold fraught with fear, he didn’t hold much hope of catching the feline. He stopped at the corner of the barn.

  Marigold ran up beside him. “Which way did she go?”

  “If we keep calling and chasing after her, she’ll only run farther. I think the best thing is to wait her out. She’ll come back.”

  She grabbed his upper arm with both hands. “But how? She doesn’t know her way around. She’s never been outside alone. She could get lost. Or a bigger animal could get her.”

  “Did you see how fast she is? And she has instincts. The only thing faster is probably a fox or a coyote, and she can climb or hide.”

  Marigold released his arm and promptly burst into tears. “A coyote?”

  He turned to face her. “No. No. I haven’t seen a coyote in weeks. She won’t go far. She was cooped up alone in the house all day and probably needed to go out. She’ll do her business out there alone, and then she’ll come back.”

  Tears streamed down Marigold’s cheeks. She turned those anguished hazel eyes up to him.

  He felt dismally helpless. “Have you seen the barn cats? They get by just fine. We’ll set out food for Peony.”

  “Those other cats will eat it, won’t they? Or a raccoon or something will take it. She’ll be afraid if she sees those other animals.”

  Her anguish seemed out of character. She was always so poised and optimistic. This was a side of her he’d never seen—or she’d never allowed him to see. Seth pulled a bandana from his rear pocket, shook it open and blotted the tears on her cheeks. She reached for the cloth and he took her hand in his. “Peony will come back. I know she will.”

  Marigold grasped his hand. Hers felt slender and small within his. She looked into his eyes. Her lower lip quivered. “She’s all I have.”