by Ana Seymour
After the hard day of riding, everyone was hungry, and the large portions disappeared quickly. Parker, whose appetite had finally returned in full force after his illness, went to the kitchen to serve himself a healthy second helping, and he would have gone for a third if he hadn’t heard his mother’s voice echoing in his head, admonishing him to mind his manners.
The tension of the impromptu roundup had dissipated with the comfortingly heavy food and the relaxing effects of a bottle of red wine that Molly had taken out of her father’s cabinet. “We’ve earned some of this today,” she’d said with a smile.
Parker had sworn off hard liquor after the night he’d been beaten up by thugs hired by Big Jim, the crooked saloon owner back in Deadwood who’d almost ruined him, but he decided that a glass of wine wouldn’t hurt him. It felt good to be sitting around a polished table set with real linen and crystal. For a moment he imagined himself back home with his father and mother in earnest discussion over the latest social outrage that they had set out to remedy through some organization or other. Sometimes some of their reformer friends would join them. He and Amelia had almost always been permitted to join the adults at the table, even when they were little, and he’d grown to enjoy the leisurely sessions of stimulating conversation.
There was little conversation at the Lucky Stars table, but he stretched his long legs out and relaxed anyway. It was enough to be eating good food and drinking fine wine, surrounded by three lovely women, each of whom was beginning to grow on him in her own different way.
He had gotten to know Mary Beth the least. When he addressed her, she always answered promptly, intelligently, her shy smile quick to come and go, like changing leaf patterns on a windy day. She had an air of secrecy about her that intrigued him, and she was such a winsome thing—shorter, smaller than her sisters, though nicely rounded with a moon face and huge eyes, a little like the pretty orphan calf they had brought back with them this afternoon.
Then there was Susannah. Though all three sisters were comely, Susannah was the one who fired his blood. He hadn’t decided yet exactly how he would handle the almost instant attraction that had sprung up between them. She had made it obvious that she felt it, too. The sense of it had been with him all day as he’d watched her slender, willowy grace and skill with her horse. She’d been the best rider in the group by far, yet never lost her femininity for an instant, unlike Molly, who at times had been actually down on the ground with reluctant calves, pushing and pulling them, shouting at them, covered in dirt, her baggy clothes getting wetter and wetter from the cold streain. By the end of the day she’d looked like a scarecrow built of mud.
“So, are we going back out to the hollow tomorrow?” Susannah asked her sister.
Molly nodded as she sipped her wine. “We’ll get the rest of that group across with the others. Do you think we could fence them in there, Smokey?”
The old cook shook his head. “There won’t be time before the snows come. They should stay put. There’s plenty of prime grazing. It’ll just be bad luck if they wander off again.”
“We don’t need any more bad luck,” Molly said fervently.
“Maybe we ought to ride over there every couple days and see that they’re staying together,” Parker suggested.
Susannah gave an enthusiastic nod. “Parker and I can ride over and check on them.”
Molly tilted back her head and gave her sister a long look. “I’m not sure you and Parker riding off alone is such a good idea. No offense, Parker. It’s just that it’s better if we keep things a little controlled around here.”
Susannah slapped her hand on the table, almost upsetting her wineglass. Parker reached across her to steady it. He wished he could steady her, as well. He had the feeling that Susannah was about to claim her independence, as she had told him she would.
“Now, Molly,” she said, her voice only a little out of its normal range, “it’s about time we all recognized that you and I are grown women. Of course, when Papa was here, I recognized that he had a certain authority over me, but with him gone…”
Molly’s blue eyes narrowed. “With Papa gone, I’m the head of the household,” she said quietly.
“Granted. You’re the head of the household..” but you’re not the head of me. You’re only a year older than I am, and we’re both adults now. It’s not right anymore for you to be telling me where I can go and who I can see. Or who I can ride with.”
Parker watched as Molly took a slow, deep breath. She was smart enough, he saw, not to reject her sister’s arguments out of hand. Susannah had a point. Most women her age were married by now with daughters of their own to raise.
“All right,” she said finally. “Ride with whom you please. But it won’t be with my hired hand. I may not have authority over you anymore, Susannah, but I sure as shooting have it over him.” She stabbed a finger in Parker’s direction, then pushed back her chair.
The rest of the table watched as she turned without another word and left the room. The benevolent mood had disappeared. “Don’t take what Molly says too much to heart, Parker,” Susannah said after a moment. “She’ll come around. If we want to go riding, we’ll just go.”
Parker didn’t argue. But there’d been something in Molly’s eyes just now that had confused him. Before when she’d warned him off her sisters, she had looked like a mama bear protecting her cubs. But this time it had been different. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear that the look in her eyes had been jealousy.
It seemed to Molly that Susannah was going out of her way to establish a foothold on her newly proclaimed independence. She had skipped breakfast the next morning and had come down just in time to head out to Cougar Creek once again with the rest of them. But instead of the buckskin riding outfit she normally wore out on the range, she was wearing a blue velveteen habit that their father had bought for her on a trip to Denver, saying that it was a perfect match for her sky blue eyes. In the past, Molly would have ordered her back to her room to change, scolding her for her impracticality. But after the confrontation last night, she decided to stay quiet. Nor did she say a word all morning long as Susannah blatantly teased and flirted with Parker, never quite to the point of abandoning their work, but enough so that it was noticeable to all the rest that there was much more on her mind than herding cattle.
To Parker’s credit, he never seemed to lose focus on his work. He met Susannah’s advances with his usual charm and courtesy, but he did not respond in kind. He rode hard and seemed to become more adept at maneuvering the tricky animals with each passing hour. By midday, when they stopped to rest and eat a quick meal of cold meat pies, Molly found herself marveling at how quickly he had started to look like a seasoned cowpoke. Her admiration warred with the irritation, that flared every time she saw him turning that ready smile on her sister. It was no less irritating to realize that Parker, himself, had little blame in the byplay. Today it was definitely Susannah who was being forward. And Molly knew that their argument last night was a large part of the reason for her behavior.
The ominous clouds were gone today. If they had held a storm, it had blown off to the south. But it was definitely colder. They all were blowing on their reddened hands during lunch and didn’t linger to talk once the food was finished.
“There are four or five more over in that gully,” Molly told the group as they mounted up once again. “That appears to be the last of them around here, anyway. Tomorrow Parker and I will ride out here to see if we can spot any others.”
Parker swung into his saddle, a half smile on his face. He was feeling a small flush of triumph today. For most of his life, learning new things had come easily to him, and it had frustrated him yesterday when he seemed to be having such a difficult time figuring out something as simple as cow herding. But today he’d finally begun to get the idea. Even on the lousy horse he’d been traded, he was learning how to make just the right cuts and turns to keep the dogies rolling.
And then there was his unasked-for ro
le in the drama between the two older Hanks sisters. Susannah was asserting herself, proclaiming herself a woman, for perhaps the first time. And Parker, while he was careful to do nothing that his boss lady could possibly criticize, was secretly tickled to see her discomfiture. He had grown to genuinely like all three young women, but Molly did tend to be somewhat of a bully where her sisters were concerned. Parker figured that if Susannah wanted to use him to teach her sister a lesson, he wouldn’t make any objection. As Susannah had said, it was something that needed to be done if either of the two younger girls was ever going to have a chance for a life on her own. Why, Molly had Mary Beth so cowed that the poor girl probably wouldn’t dare look twice at a male. And it just wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t as if Parker didn’t see Molly’s side of it. He remembered when Amelia had first admitted to him that she’d kissed a young beau. He’d wanted to tear the boy’s head off.
Keeping his smile banked, he rode over to Molly. “If we’re finishing up early today, I’d like to ride into town and reclaim my horse from the livery. I’m afraid I didn’t make a very good bargain with this one.”
Susannah, who had been a few yards behind him, suddenly spurred her horse forward. “I need to go to town, too,” she told her sister.
Molly looked skeptical. “What for?”
“Supplies,” she answered vaguely. “We need some soap and blueing for the wash.”
Molly let out a laugh of disbelief. “Since when have you been so interested in the laundry, Susannah?”
“We can pick up whatever you need,” Parker said mildly.
Molly looked from her hired hand to her sister. Just last night she’d sworn they wouldn’t ride out alone together again. This was definitely a test of wills, and, after two days of pushing cattle, she didn’t much feel up to it. But then, there were lots of days she didn’t feel up to things and she managed to get through them. She set her chin and answered, “We could all use a break. We’ll call off work for the rest of the day and go in together.”
Smokey and Mary Beth had been herding along a frisky heifer who had wanted to head everywhere but the box hollow. They had finally got the critter situated and were riding back up the creek, laughing over a shared joke.
“Go where together?” Smokey asked.
“Into town.”
“Sounds good. I wouldn’t mind stopping for a shot of Clem’s red-eye to chase down that wine we had last night. I’m getting too old for the grapes, I think.”
“I don’t see how whiskey is going to be any better than wine,” Molly observed.
“That’s ‘cause you’re lacking in experience, Molly lass. The grapes’ll give you a headache, whereas a shot of real liquor in the gut just gets the blood running through your veins.”
Molly shook her head, but she was smiling. Nothing Smokey said ever seemed to rile her. “So we’ll ride on back, clean up and then head into town. We can all have supper at the Grand tonight.”
“I think I’ll just stay home, Molly,” Mary Beth said hesitantly.
Molly looked at her sharply. “Why? Are you feeling poorly?”
“No, I’m fine, just a little tired. And I’d like to catch up on the cleaning.”
Molly studied her for a moment. One sister rebelling was enough to handle. She would hate to think that Mary Beth had the same intentions. But her youngest sister looked anything but rebellious. She had her typical shy expression, a little like a puppy dog waiting to see if it was deserving of a scratch behind the ears. And Mary Beth did look a little peaked. There were circles under her eyes. “All right. You can stay home. But forget the cleaning, and don’t wait up for us. Get to bed early.”
Mary Beth looked relieved. “I will.”
The laconic Mr. Fister at the livery had traded Diamond back without so much as a murmur. People sure were different out West, Parker noted. In New York City he’d have had to pay a hefty sum for the deal. It felt good to be with his own horse again. Diamond had been his first purchase when he’d reached the Black Hills, and she had served him faithfully ever since, until she’d hit the hole out on the prairie.
It hadn’t taken as long as he’d thought to finish up his horse trading, so he had some time before he was to meet Molly and Susannah over at the hotel. Smokey had gone off to the Grizzly Bear Saloon for his shot of whiskey.
He walked along the main street, leading Diamond and trying to decide what to do. He could go shopping over at the general store. If he’d been back in New York, along about now he’d be thinking about buying some fancy little furbelow for a girl who had caught his eye. But if he bought something for Susannah, he’d feel obliged to find something for her two sisters, and somehow he just couldn’t imagine that Molly would particularly appreciate a fancy furbelow.
He stepped back as a buckboard clattered past him, sending a cloud of dust up into his face. As he wiped grit out of his eye he caught sight of the bathhouse sign across the street. Now, there was a sensible idea— he’d pay a visit to the irrepressible Miz McClanahan and clean the range dust off his body at the same time.
The man who had helped him on his first visit was not around this time. Instead, Max McClanahan herself was sitting in the old rocker by the front door. She greeted him heartily.
“Hey there, pilgrim. I hear you almost got your ears froze off over to Copper Canyon the other day.”
“You heard right, Max. I guess I’m just as much of a pilgrim as you claimed.”
She pushed her bulky frame out of the chair, leaving it rocking wildly in her wake. “Hope you didn’t freeze up any other important parts.” She winked at him. “That would be what I call a real tragedy.”
Parker grinned. “Everything’s still in working order as far as I can tell.”
“Glad to hear it.” She pulled towels and soap out of a cabinet and handed them to him. “You can go in the small room or wait a minute for the big one. There’s…ah…someone occupying it at the moment.” Her glance at the curtained doorway was oddly bashful.
“Tub size the same?”
“Oh, sure. And the boiler, too. There’s plenty of hot water in either place.”
“Well, I reckon I don’t need a ballroom to take a bath in,” he said, heading for the doorway to the right of the one he had used on his first visit.
“You be sure to call if I can help you with anything,” Max teased in her booming voice.
Parker was about to duck under the rough cotton drape when the curtain to the bigger room was pulled open. On the other side stood Smokey, dressed only in red long underwear. His feet were bare and his gray hair was dripping.
“Max, I thought you were coming…” He stopped when he saw Parker. “Whoa, tenderfoot. What’re you doing here?”
“Same thing you are, I’d suppose. I’m going to scrub the smell of cattle off my hide.”
Smokey grinned at Max. “I did stink some when I came in today, didn’t I, Maxie?”
She wrinkled her nose. “You smelled pretty much like you always do, you old goat.”
Smokey walked across the room and, to Parker’s amazement, gave Max a smacking kiss on the lips. “I tell you, Parker, this gal likes me—smelly or not.”
Max pushed him away indignantly, but her plump cheeks had turned bright pink. “You’ve been out on the range too long, old timer.”
Parker laughed at their banter. He wondered if Max, unlike the teasing offer she had made to him, actually did “help” Smokey out with his bath. And just how far that might have taken them. They were an unlikely duo, but, then again, who was to say what made two people come together. With him and Claire it had been an instant, painfully fierce attraction that had not let up until the day she died—not even then.
“Don’t mind me, folks,” Parker told them, pulling back the curtain to the bathroom. “I’ll just take my bath and be on my way.”
“We’re supposed to meet Molly at the hotel,” Smokey reminded him.
“I know. I’ll be there on time.”
Smokey’s w
et beard curled in ashy grin as he turned toward Max and asked, “I don’t suppose you’d want to join us for some supper, Maxie?”
She looked pleased at the invitation, but her voice was gruff. “I guess if the pilgrim’s going to be there, I might consider it. At least I’d have one good-lookin’ feller to ease my tired eyes.”
Smokey looked equally pleased with her answer. “That’s settled, then. Go on in and get yourself cleaned up, Parker. We’re taking the ladies to dine.”
Molly’s father had never entirely approved of Max McClanahan, but that hadn’t stopped Molly from being fascinated by the the strident, plainspoken woman. One day when Molly was twelve, she’d run away from school in tears after a group of boys had called her the ugly Hanks sister. She’d never been envious of her sisters’ dainty ways and pretty blond hair, but the teasing had cut into a place deep inside her that up to that moment she hadn’t even known existed. It had been Max McClanahan who had found her that day, had taken her home and given her lemonade and cookies, and had talked to her for two hours about all the good and powerful gifts a woman had to give to this world, the very least of which was how she looked.
Molly had listened and pondered, and not long after that she’d taken to wearing men’s clothing. She’d told her family that the garb was simply more practical for working on the ranch, but in her heart she’d known the change had been her way of stating that she did not have to compete with her sisters’ beauty—and that she did not even intend to try. Her father had been at a loss on how to change her mind. They’d had a cook at the time named Mrs. Barter who’d been horrified by the situation and had tried to force Molly to wear the frilly dresses her father continued to bring home to her. But eventually Mrs. Barter had been called back East to live with her ailing sister. Instead of hiring someone new, Smokey had gradually assumed her duties and had never once commented on Molly’s style of dressing. Finally everyone had simply come to accept the situation. And whenever Max saw the Hankses, she’d make it a special point to single out Molly for some earnest woman-to-woman talk.
