Cowboy to the Rescue

by Louise M. Gouge

  Not wanting to encounter either Nate or his father, Susanna waited to fetch supper until she observed through the bedroom window that the two men had walked toward the stables, no doubt to tend to chores. In the kitchen, she found a tray laden with food and a note for her to take all that she and Daddy needed.

  As they ate in the bedroom, Daddy seemed to grow more cheerful, while Susanna’s heart grew heavier. How long must they stay in this place? After only two days of bed rest, Daddy’s leg hadn’t healed enough for him to find new horses, much less hitch them up and drive the wagon. She certainly didn’t have the strength to manage all the work required for traveling.

  After church, she’d thought about asking Miss Pam if they could stay with her and Charlie, maybe camp out behind the café. Before she could say a word, however, Miss Pam had told her how fortunate she and Daddy were to be in the care of such good people as the Northams. When Susanna thought to make her plea for other accommodations to Reverend Thomas, the young minister had gone on and on about what a good man the Colonel was.

  In this small, developing community, no hotel had been built, and none of the homes had been made into boardinghouses. Susanna found it more than frustrating to have plenty of money to move out of the Northams’ house, yet to have no place to go and no means to get there. All she could do was remember Mama’s everlasting optimism and try to make it her own.

  The next morning as she sat again beside Daddy’s bed as he ate breakfast, Nate came to the half-open door and gave them both a big smile. That cute smile of his, with one side of his upper lip higher than the other. Despite her determination to shield herself from his charms, her traitorous heart skipped.

  “Susanna, would you be able to help me with something?” The twinkle in his green eyes did nothing to fortify her resolve.

  “Well...” Having left Daddy alone too much these past two days, she’d turned down the invitation to go with Rosamond and her mother to deliver food to the needy. “I planned to read to Daddy—”

  “Nonsense, daughter.” Daddy gave her arm a little nudge. “You go on. I’ll be fine.”

  Her heart tried to pull her out of the chair, while her mind refused to budge. “Exactly what do you need help with?” In spite of herself, she couldn’t keep the sassiness out of her voice.

  He glanced back down the hallway, then ducked into the room and closed the door. “The Colonel wants me to make sure none of the china is broken. Mother and Rosamond are going out calling all morning, so this is the perfect chance to go through the boxes. I figure it’ll take two of us.”

  His eager expression added to his charm. Here was a man who loved his mother and delighted in doing things for her. As for the china, Susanna wondered how the Colonel could worry about it being broken when it was his wife’s heart that would be broken if his actions with Rita were discovered. Still, Mrs. Northam had been kind to Susanna and Daddy, so this was one small way she could pay the lady back.

  “Just exactly where do you plan to do this operation?” She pictured bringing the crates into the house and spreading the china out on the long dining room table. They would need to add the extra leaves, and there would be a mess to clean up afterward with all of that straw packing—

  “In the barn. We don’t want anybody to know about it. My brothers and all the hands will be out herding cattle or working in the fields all morning, but we’ll still have to be quick about it.”

  “Harrumph.” Daddy glared at Nate. “Young man, do you mean to say you’re going to be in the barn behind closed doors alone with my daughter?”

  Surprised by his concerns, Susanna held back a laugh. “But, Daddy—”

  “Oh.” Nate’s face turned red beneath his tan. “I didn’t even think how that would look. Would you approve if Zack worked with us? He’s the only person who knows the secret other than the Colonel and me.” His eagerness to do the job added to his already dangerous appeal. He was nothing if not persistent, another admirable quality to add to the list Susanna was trying not to compose in her mind.

  Daddy’s expression changed from a scowl to a smile quicker than a blink. “Why, that would do just fine, Nate. You have my approval.”

  Nate’s grin broadened. “Thank you, sir.” He focused on Susanna. “Will you help?”

  She couldn’t keep from smiling at his boyish enthusiasm. “Of course I will.”

  An hour later, after Rosamond and Mrs. Northam had left, she followed Nate’s instructions on going to the barn. She left the house by the front door and meandered around the grassy yard smelling the roses and checking on the columbines. Some of the transplanted flowers had wilted or lost blooms, but none looked as if they wouldn’t make it. She next wandered toward one of the corrals, where several horses munched on a pile of hay. Several barn cats called out to her, and she took a moment to pet them. Then, following Nate’s instructions on how to avoid being seen from the kitchen window, just in case Angela looked out, she found a door on the far side of the barn and quickly entered.

  A medium-size black-and-white dog wandered out of a stall and eyed her curiously, tail wagging. Susanna bent down to pet her and noticed a litter of four or more puppies amid the straw and burlap on the stall floor. Her heart melting at the adorable creatures, she rubbed behind the mother’s ears. “Hello, little girl. What’s your name?”

  “That’s Bess.” Nate sauntered over. “She’s been keeping to the barn since having her pups, but I expect her to get out more as time goes on.”

  “Will she let me hold one?” Despite a strong urge to cuddle a puppy, she didn’t want to upset the mother.

  “Sure.” Speaking to Bess in soothing tones, Nate picked up one of the pups and set it in Susanna’s waiting arms. “This little girl is the runt of the litter, but she’s pretty healthy.

  “Oh, how sweet.” Susanna held her up to one cheek and received a good lick. “My, you’re friendly.”

  Bess danced around as if worried, so Susanna set the puppy back among the others. “I must have one of them, Nate, unless they’re all promised.”

  “I think we can work that out once they’re weaned.” Nate walked toward the specially rigged wagon where Zack stood awaiting orders. “Let’s get started.” He grabbed a crowbar and started to pry open one of the crates.

  “Now, you just hold on a minute, Mr. Nate Northam.” Susanna marched over to the wagon, suddenly feeling the weight of responsibility for this endeavor. “Just exactly where do you plan to lay out the pieces as you unpack them?”

  The two men exchanged a look.

  “Um...” Nate looked around the barn as if he’d never seen it before.

  Zack pushed his hat back and scratched his head. “Well, I’ll be. Hadn’t thought of that.”

  “What did you do when you inspected the shipment at Pueblo?” She glanced around, not sure what she was looking for. All she saw were stalls, bales of hay, harnesses and other items used for the care of horses.

  “The trading post owner’s wife let us use her dining room.” He and Zack traded a look and a laugh. “I think that man’s going to have a hard time when his next anniversary comes around.”

  “Well, he should.” Susanna fully understood the lady’s feelings. Mama had always expected something special to celebrate her wedding anniversary and always gave Daddy something special in return. “Do you have some blankets we can lay out?”

  The two men scrambled to pull out several large blankets used for horses in the winter. After shaking out the dust, they laid them on the flat dirt floor.

  “Don’t know what we would have done without you.” Nate gave Susanna that charming grin of his, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

  He opened one crate, removed a handful of straw and lifted out a plain oak chest. “As you can see, it’s all in smaller boxes.” Inside the box were four crystal goblets, each safely nestled in its own flannel-l
ined compartment.

  “This is like a treasure hunt.” Susanna couldn’t wait to see what the next box held. “My brother and I used to hunt pretend treasures.” She wished back the words as soon as she said them. Would Nate think she was a “money-grubbing prospector,” as his father had accused?

  “My brothers and I did, too.” Nate winked at her as he pulled out another box, and her heart warmed. Not for the first time did she consider how different he was from his father.

  The box he held contained plates separated by flexible, flannel-covered dividers. All in all, they counted twenty-four place settings, plus numerous serving pieces. Platters, serving bowls, finger bowls, creamers, sugar bowls, all in the same blue, silver-rimmed Wedgwood pattern.

  As they began to repack the items, Susanna felt close to tears. Not one piece was broken. Mrs. Northam would be so pleased, and she deserved this wonderful gift. Susanna could only pray that she would never know how her gift was tainted by an unfaithful husband.

  * * *

  “I can hardly believe nothing’s broken. That’s answered prayer.” Nate tucked the inventory list into his shirt in case Mother returned early and asked about the fancy parchment paper he was carrying. “And once again, I have you to thank.” He eyed Susanna, who was daintily dabbing her face with a handkerchief. “Sorry you had to work up a sweat, but this barn gets mighty hot during the summer.” He tried to think of a clever comparison as to how hot it got, but nothing came to mind.

  “Mr. Nate Northam!” She glared at him in that cute way of hers. “Ladies do not sweat. We perspire.” She sniffed with mock indignation. “And you’re very welcome about the china.”

  Zack snorted out a laugh at the lady’s remark. “I should go, boss. The boys will wonder why I’m not out there working alongside ’em.”

  “The boys can wait. I need you here another minute.” Nate wouldn’t give Mr. Anders any cause to worry about his daughter’s reputation. “Susanna, do you give your stamp of approval on the way we stored the boxes?”

  “Now, wouldn’t I have said so if I didn’t?”

  “Yes, indeed, I’m sure you would have.” He loved it when she got sassy. It showed spirit and optimism, maybe even faith in the midst of her difficulties. Yet one small thing nagged at him. As they’d opened each of the boxes, she hadn’t viewed their contents with the same covetous glint he’d seen in the eyes of the trading post owner’s wife. In fact, Susanna had inspected the dishes with a critical, even knowledgeable approach, searching for possible blemishes. She appeared to be familiar with Wedgwood and named other china patterns made by the company.

  Were the Anderses truly poor, as he’d assumed? Had they fallen from wealth into hard times? Was a patrician background the reason Susanna carried herself with such dignity? Did Mr. Anders want to seek his fortune in the San Juan silver fields so they could return to some former social status? Nate didn’t dare ask Susanna these questions, for that would be the worst side of rude. Maybe it was time he got better acquainted with her father so he could disguise his questions as friendly interest.

  He sent Susanna out first, then waited a few minutes while Zack shuffled his feet impatiently.

  “Good work handling that china, Zack. You’ve been a big help with it all along.”

  The old cowboy grinned and shrugged. “My ma never had anything that fancy, but she did teach me how to treat nice things.”

  “Good, because I want you to meet me in the addition tomorrow morning first thing. There’s nobody I can trust to help me finish it.”

  As expected, the other man rebuffed his praise. “I’ll be glad to, boss. Now, I’d better head out.”

  As Zack left, Nate gave one last appraising look at the stall where he’d stored the boxes of china. The men, and even his brothers, knew better than to go poking around the barn, and the dust-and straw-covered canvas on top of the boxes would keep anyone from prying.

  He ambled out of the barn and headed toward the house to take the inventory list to the Colonel’s office. He didn’t particularly want to see his father, but if he was in, Nate would have a chance to tell him how much Susanna had helped with the china...again.

  Entering the house through the back door, he followed his nose to the kitchen. There he found Susanna up to her elbows in dishwater and Angela pulling bread pans from the oven.

  “I sure did come in at the right time, didn’t I?” Nate swallowed hard at the overwhelming aroma of the freshly baked bread.

  Always accommodating, Angela dumped a loaf onto a cloth on the table and cut a large slice for him. “Butter, Señor Nate?” She brought a crock from the side table, then went back to her work.

  Nate slathered butter on the slice and started to take a bite, then paused. Susanna hadn’t spoken to him or even looked his way since he came into the room. That was taking their secret a bit too far. If she’d just look at him, he could give her a surreptitious wink. Since she didn’t seem inclined to do so, he broke off a bite of bread, stepped over to her and put it up to her lips.

  “Want a bite?”

  She pulled back from him. “From those dirty hands?” She sniffed in her haughty way. “No, thank you.”

  Laughing, he popped the bite into his own mouth. This little gal got under his skin in the worst—or the best—way. What he wouldn’t give to just consider courting her.

  He whistled as he strode up the hall to the Colonel’s office at the front of the house. Maybe his father would be out in the fields, although this summer he was spending less time working side by side with the hands than in previous years. If he wasn’t in, Nate would tuck the inventory list in his desk drawer, where Mother never looked.

  At his knock, the Colonel called, “Enter,” in his gruff, commanding voice.

  A sigh of disappointment escaped Nate as he obeyed the order. He crossed the room, removing the inventory paper from inside his shirt. “All there and in perfect condition.”

  “Hmm.” The Colonel didn’t look up from his ledger. “That was fast. You sure you didn’t break anything?”

  Clenching his teeth, Nate placed the paper on the desk. “If it hadn’t been for Miss Anders, I could well have broken some. She made suggestions on how to go about it, then on how to store everything until the party.”

  At the mention of Susanna’s name, the Colonel’s head snapped up, and he glared at Nate. “She helped you, did she?”

  “Yessir, she and Zack.” Better get that information out there right away so the Colonel didn’t assume they’d been alone. Yet at his father’s harsh expression, rebellion kicked up inside Nate. “And by the way, I promised her one of Bess’s pups.”

  The Colonel placed his knuckles on his desk, stood and leaned toward Nate. “They are not yours to promise. You know very well we’re going to raise those dogs to herd cattle, and we need every one of them. Why do you think I sent for an expert dog handler all the way from Scotland? To train them, that’s why.”

  Nate glared back at his father while a half dozen retorts came to mind. In the end, he just spun on his heel and strode from the room, not bothering to shut the door. He stormed out of the house and across the yard back to the barn. Up in the loft, he grabbed a pitchfork and started tossing down hay. Lots of hay. And when he’d tossed down more than the horses would need that evening, he climbed down and tossed some of it out the door into the attached corral, where the horses already had plenty to eat. Then he kicked a fence post. Which only served to send pain shooting up his leg. Now he had to move the extra hay back to the loft so the horses wouldn’t overeat and get sick.

  Court Susanna? What was he thinking? Two unchangeable things kept him from it. His father’s vise grip on his life, and his own inability to manage his temper. That last one worried him most. He didn’t really want to use that pitchfork on the Colonel, but someday he might just give in to the temptation to land a punch on his fath
er’s square, stubborn jaw.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Before coming here, I never ate anything made from chokecherries.” Susanna stirred a bite of pancake into the dark red puddle on her plate. “This syrup is delicious.”

  “Just don’t eat the berries raw.” Nate sat across the kitchen table from her, his teasing smirk not getting in the way of his polishing off his griddle cakes. “There’s a reason they’re called chokecherries. Right, Angela?”

  Working as usual at the stove, Angela nodded her agreement. “Sí. Never eat them without sugar or honey, or you will be sorry.”

  Seated next to Susanna, Rosamond ate her breakfast with the same enthusiasm as her brother. “Maybe you’ll still be here in September when we gather the berries and help Angela put them up. Won’t that be fun?”

  “Oh, yes. I always loved—” she stopped before blurting out that she’d helped the family’s cook put up jelly “—making blackberry jelly. I’m sure this will be just as enjoyable.”

  His mouth too full for speaking, Nate nodded and arched his eyebrows, as if he was saying he also hoped she would still be here. If it wasn’t for the Colonel, Susanna could almost wish for the same thing.

  As these few days had passed, it had become harder to remember all the reasons she’d been taught to hate Yankees. She found this family not just tolerable, but worthy of her friendship. Except for the Colonel, of course. A lady couldn’t be expected to sit at the supper table every evening under his angry looks without feeling a bit uncharitable in return, especially knowing what she did about his treatment of young Rita. But otherwise, Susanna’s days had been fairly pleasant as she basked in the hospitality of the rest of the family.

  Still, she must keep Nate at arm’s length and not let their friendship go any deeper. She’d always had her heart set on marrying a Southern gentleman just like Daddy and Edward Jr., and she must not lose sight of that dream. The South was her world, the place where she belonged, where she was welcomed by everyone. This small community could not compare to all she’d left behind.