The Cowboy Tutor

by Linda Ford

  Judd had not followed. She told herself she wasn’t disappointed as she watched him walk around the house. A few minutes later, he appeared with two half-grown kittens and handed one to each of the girls. “Found some lonely kitties just begging for attention.”

  The girls buried their faces in the soft fur and murmured affectionately to their pets.

  Madge’s eyes stung with appreciation at his gesture. “Thank you,” she mouthed.

  He nodded and sat by Rosie. As with Madge, the closed door to the house seemed to have an unusual pull on his gaze.

  Her heart lifted with relief when Mary came out and stood motionless. Then she saw the girl wasn’t motionless at all. Her shoulders shook.

  “I’ll stay here. You go talk to her,” Judd whispered.

  She left him with the younger girls and hurried over to pull Mary into a hug. But Mary resisted.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Momma.”

  “How is she?”

  Mary rocked back and forth and sobbed gently.

  Madge did not like the way Mary acted. As if… What should she do? She shot a desperate glance at Judd.

  He eased away from the little girls, making sure they remained with their attention on the cats, and came to her side. “What’s the matter?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Wait here,” he said to Mary and, taking Madge’s hand, pulled her into the house. She knew the way and led him to Mrs. Burns’s bedroom where she lay abed, Conrad at her side, his hair tousled, his eyes shadowed as if he hadn’t slept in days.

  Joanie pressed to his side, rubbing his shoulder. Tears streaked her face.

  Judd stepped forward and touched his fingers to Mrs. Burns’s throat. “She’s gone.”

  Conrad nodded. “I know,” he choked out.

  “How long?” Judd asked.

  “This morning. But I couldn’t bring myself to admit it. Mary only just realized when Joanie came.” He shuddered, then reached up and claimed one of Joanie’s hands.

  Judd looked around, then murmured to Madge, “Didn’t you say there was a younger boy?”

  “Quint.”

  “Where is he?”

  Conrad glanced about, as if only now aware of his brother’s absence. “Likely gone to the barn.”

  Judd stood. “You need to inform the pastor. Let the neighbors know.” But no one moved.

  “Can you do it?” Joanie murmured.

  “Of course.” He captured Madge’s hand and pulled her from the room with him. “Get Mary doing something. I’ll find Quint and send him to the neighbors to ask them to go for the pastor.”

  She didn’t move. The shock of seeing Mrs. Burns lying there dead and cold, of seeing Conrad so shaken, left her stunned.

  “Madge, they need our help.”

  Suddenly her fears and concerns exploded. “How will they manage? Their father is already dead. The girls are so young. Mary only fourteen, and now she’ll have to be the mother. I can’t even think.”

  He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him.

  She clung to his dark gaze, searching for and finding strength, encouragement and something she knew she must deny, but at the moment needed so badly she couldn’t move.

  “Madge, don’t try and solve all their problems at once.”

  She nodded. And shuddered. She wanted to collapse in his arms and pretend none of the past few minutes were real.

  He squeezed her shoulders. She sucked in a strengthening gasp.

  “You’ll be fine.” He seemed to know she was now ready to face the difficult task ahead and dropped his hands from her shoulders before going to find Quint. For two quick breaths she felt rudderless, lost, then she hurried outside and found Mary shivering against the corner of the house. “Let’s make tea for everyone.” Mary allowed Madge to lead her indoors. Over the girl’s shoulder she saw Judd talking to Quint, and then the boy raced across the field to the nearest neighbor. He smiled encouragement as he strode over to join her.

  Together they managed to get Mary busy in the kitchen and persuade the little girls to have sandwiches. Joanie drew Conrad from the bedroom and convinced him to eat something.

  By then the neighbors had arrived. Quint tried to escape to the barn again, but Judd gently urged him to join the family in the kitchen.

  Shortly afterwards the pastor drove in, accompanied by his sweet wife. But the girls clung to Madge, Conrad to Joanie, and Judd looked to Quint, who watched for signals as to what he should do. Just as Madge watched Judd for smiles of encouragement and nods of approval. He seemed to know exactly what to do and took care of a hundred details no one else had the heart to deal with—like the scrawny cow bellowing to be milked and the eggs waiting to be gathered. He filled the water pails from the well and replenished the coal bucket so they could keep the kettle boiling as neighbors continued to arrive and offer help. According to the custom of the area, the body would lie in the house, with neighbors and family keeping constant vigil until the funeral service.

  He must have also sent a message to Madge’s family, as Sally arrived bearing a chocolate cake. She rushed over to hug Madge. “Are you okay?”

  Madge clung to her sister. “I can’t stop wondering how they’ll survive. The children are much younger than we are, and yet I wonder how we’d manage if Mother left us.”

  “Pray to God we won’t have to find out. Now let’s see what needs to be done.” She glanced around. “Seems pretty organized already.” Surprise filled her voice.

  “Judd—Justin got things going.”

  “Very good.” Sally practically rubbed her hands together as she headed for the kitchen to add her help.

  Madge stood in the yard watching neighbors slip in and out of the house, clustering in knots to discuss the loss. Then the conversations shifted to other things. It all felt impossible. Like a dream from which she would awaken and thank God it wasn’t real. Only it was. It had left her shaken to the core. She looked about. Judd talked to a couple of the men, Quint at his side.

  Not giving herself a chance to consider her actions, Madge made her way to him. She longed to press close, feel the comfort of his arms around her. But such comfort did not belong to her. She would allow herself only the strength of his presence.

  Chapter Seven

  Judd glanced around the gathering crowd. He aimed to help the family cope, but most of all, he wanted to take the look of shock and sorrow from Madge’s eyes.

  He’d found Quint in the hayloft huddled to the wall, a cat nuzzled against him. The boy had understood his mother had died but didn’t know how to react. He’d been grateful for something to do when Judd sent him to notify the neighbors.

  Joanie seemed incapable of doing anything but clinging to Conrad, whose eyes were wide and unfocused.

  Madge opened her arms and her heart to the younger girls and shepherded them through the day. She managed very well once she’d shaken her initial shock.

  Watching her kindness convinced him his feelings for her were growing ripe, ready to mature. Was it love? Whatever it was, he couldn’t let it distract him from his reason for being here—George Gratton.

  Madge crossed the yard and stood close to him. Sensing her need for reassurance and comfort, he squeezed her shoulders. She stiffened momentarily, then sighed and leaned closer. They broke apart in a heartbeat rather than cause gossip among the neighbors, but Judd hugged her shape and memory to him even though she now stood a circumspect twelve inches away. Seemed he needed her as much as he hoped she needed him.

  More people arrived, and Madge moved off to welcome them. One of the neighbor men beckoned to Judd to ask him about the chores.

  For the next two days their lives were like that—passing silently as they went from one task to another. Only the daily ride back to the Morgan place provided them with a chance to be alone, and then the conversation dealt with details of the Burns family.

  As soon as they reached home, Madge hurriedly changed into her chore clothes—overal
ls and an old cotton shirt that must have been her father’s. She rolled the sleeves up to her elbows and set to work. Despite her protests, he insisted on helping.

  “I’ll get the cow and calf.”

  She hesitated only a moment. “Thanks. I’ll start the washing.” Several women held back on their regular orders, understanding Madge had her hands full helping the Burns family, but a couple insisted they must have clean laundry.

  He brought home the cow and calf and did the milking. Not the sort of job a cowboy often did, but he discovered it surprisingly soothing to lean against the cow’s flank as warm streams of milk filled the bucket. Sally took the pail when he carried it to the house.

  Louisa sat at the table where they usually did their studies. “Justin, I wonder if you could help me with this lesson?”

  He glanced over his shoulder. Madge had already put in a long day at the Burnses’, serving neighbors, managing to do some laundry so the children would have clean clothes for the funeral tomorrow and helping Joanie and Mary keep the children occupied and the confusion organized. She must be worn out. He wanted to help her, but of course, Louisa was feeling neglected. So he buried his sigh. “Certainly. We can work until you’re tired.”

  “I won’t get tired very early. I napped all afternoon so I could do lessons this evening.”

  Yes, she napped while her sister slaved. Not that he had any right to resent the fact. Louisa wasn’t strong like Madge. Strong and kind and helpful and independent—

  He struggled to keep his thoughts on Louisa’s lessons as Madge carted baskets of wet sheets upstairs to hang. If only he could stop pretending to be Justin, the schoolteacher, and be Judd, the rugged cowboy. Then he would have no qualms about refusing Louisa’s request and helping Madge.

  The funeral was the next day. Everyone hurried through morning work so they could be ready to go to the church right after lunch.

  The building was crowded, the yard full of those who couldn’t fit inside. Room had been reserved for the Morgans in the church but Judd remained outdoors.

  The family followed the simple casket in, Joanie at Conrad’s side, practically holding him up. Quint and Mary each held the hands of one of the younger girls.

  Judd ducked his head at the sight of such grief and confusion.

  Following the service and interment in the nearby graveyard, the ladies of the church set up a lunch. People filed by the family and offered condolences.

  Quint slipped away, unnoticed by the others. Judd followed him to where the buggies were hitched. He dropped his arm across the boy’s shoulders but said nothing. Simply was there for him.

  Quint shuddered. “Why did God have to take my momma?”

  “Son, I really don’t know.” Why did God allow such awful things to happen?

  “She used to say plants need deep roots to survive. Said roots grew deep when the plants had to fight wind and drought and other bad stuff.”

  “Guess that’s so.” But plants didn’t have hearts, feelings. They couldn’t wonder why or resent the elements.

  “Momma told me I’d be a better man for having to deal with hard things. Said God would help me through them.”

  “Your momma sounds like a wise woman.”

  “She was.” He sucked in air. “But I don’t like hard things.”

  Judd nodded. “Don’t guess any of us do.” He tried not to think of his own circumstances. Nor how God hadn’t seemed concerned enough to help his mother.

  “Momma would be disappointed in me if I didn’t stand up like a man.” The boy straightened and Judd’s arm fell to his side.

  “All of you have a heavy load to carry now.”

  Quint’s shoulders sank. “I know.” He pulled himself tall again. “But I aim to make Momma proud.” He glanced toward the crowd around his older brother and sister. Saw the younger ones playing, unconcerned about the future. For a moment his gaze lingered on the little ones. Judd sensed he struggled with wanting to stay young and carefree like them, a child, then he looked back to Conrad and Mary. “I better go.” His stride faltering only once, he returned to their side and faced the greetings of the neighbors.

  Judd glanced about for Madge, found her surrounded by a knot of women. She seemed to be in a heated discussion. He slipped to her side.

  She shot him a grateful glance as she continued to speak to one of the women. “I think it’s up to Conrad and Mary to decide what happens to the younger girls.”

  Judd jerked his attention to the circle of ladies. “What’s going on here?”

  Only Madge seemed inclined to answer. “Some think Pearl and Rosie should be taken away.”

  “They need to be in a proper family,” one of the women murmured. “Or the orphanage where they will be cared for.”

  Judd cleared his throat and gained their attention. “Aren’t you forgetting they have a family? Would you deprive them of that after they’ve had the misfortune of losing their parents?”

  Some women shuffled about, but the speaker wasn’t convinced. “The older children are way too young to be parents.”

  “Conrad is eighteen. I venture to say many of you were married and had a baby by then.”

  “That’s so,” several acknowledged.

  “But Mary is only fourteen.”

  Madge shook her head. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation with the grave over there not even filled in.”

  Judd took her elbow, hoping to calm her. “My grandmother was but fourteen when she moved west as a newlywed. She didn’t have a home to go to. She and her new husband had to build one with their own hands. They faced challenges most of us have forgotten about. Mary and Conrad, Quint and the little girls have each other. They have a warm home and a farm—”

  “Farm is more of a burden than anything.”

  Judd went on as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “They have a cow and chickens and a garden Mary has been responsible for for the past two years. They are family. They love Rosie and Pearl. They’d never consider them a burden or extra mouths to feed. I think if we are concerned about them we should do what we can to assist them.”

  One by one the women nodded agreement and moved off, except for the most vocal one who lingered a moment, then marched away.

  “I hope she won’t make trouble for them,” Madge said, still clinging to his arm.

  “I doubt she will if she doesn’t have the support of anyone else.”

  She faced him. “You handled that very well. Thank you.” Their gazes held and said so many things they had never confessed. Judd allowed himself to believe her lingering look echoed his own thoughts. Something special and real was developing between them.

  “Madge.” Mrs. Morgan quietly took her daughter’s arm. “I need you.”

  Madge jerked her head to one side, avoiding Judd’s eyes. “Of course, Mother.”

  As they edged away, Judd wondered what Mrs. Morgan said to cause Madge to nod and look regretful.

  Over the next few days they all struggled to get back to their normal routines, but Judd found himself more and more restless—a feeling he could not explain. It was as if some inner, unidentified purpose drove him. He tried to force that nameless feeling into the shape of George Gratton but found it impossible. He scolded himself. He could not let sweet thoughts of Madge steal away his resolve to deal with the scoundrel. He’d bring Gratton to justice, then his heart and thoughts could seek after Madge.

  Evenings he often accompanied her to town, but more and more, he waited and slipped away as Judd Kirk. George had moved in before Mrs. Burns’s funeral. Judd watched the house, seeing the man cooking his own meal, sitting at the chair reading or sometimes standing on the porch enjoying the air.

  Judd wondered whom he intended to take advantage of in this town. Whomever and whatever Gratton had in mind, Judd planned to find out and reveal it before anyone was duped. It would require patient observation for the right timing. Judd would have to wait for the man to reveal his hand enough that he could be proven t
he shyster he was.

  Over supper that night, Madge barely waited for them to all be served before she spilled her news. “I met Mr. Gratton today. You know, the man I cleaned the Sterling house for. He asked if I would be willing to work two afternoons a week for him.”

  “Of course, you agreed to,” Louisa said. “Seems you are always looking for more work.”

  Louisa’s voice was gentle, but Judd sensed an unkind dig. From the hurt flitting across Madge’s eyes, he knew she felt it, too.

  “I’m only trying to earn enough to pay some bills.”

  He wondered why she didn’t lay the truth before them—if not for her hard work, they might lose their home. He supposed she wanted to protect them from worry.

  “Anyway, what I really wanted to tell you was what a nice man he is.”

  Judd’s heart twisted so hard he clenched his fists to keep from protesting.

  “He thanked me for doing such a good job of cleaning the house, then asked me if I could make a meal or two a week for him. I told him I wasn’t as good a cook as my sister, Sally, but he said he was willing to give it a try. Then he asked if I thought the small parlor could be made into a bedroom. He’s planning to move his mother in with him, and she’s apparently not well enough to be going up and down stairs. I said I thought it would suit very well, so he wants me to prepare it for her.”

  “How good God is to provide you with another job,” Mrs. Morgan said. “Perhaps you can give up some of your laundry customers now.”

  “I don’t think so, Mother.”

  “I can help with the laundry,” Sally offered.

  The sisters studied each other for several seconds. Judd guessed Madge had grown used to seeing her sisters as frail and unsuitable for heavy work. Madge needed to see Sally was no longer a little sister needing protection. He sensed Louisa was also far stronger than any of them were willing to believe.

  Finally Madge nodded. “I’d appreciate your help.”

  Judd was pleased for Madge’s sake. At the same time, he wanted to grab her and warn her not to take George Gratton at face value. Was the man figuring to gain something from his contact with Madge? Perhaps to be introduced to Mrs. Morgan? But the woman had nothing to steal. Of course, Mr. Gratton didn’t know that. Or perhaps this woman he planned to bring to the house was not truly his mother. Maybe she was part of some scheme he had cooked up.