That tears it. This afternoon after Reverend Thomas left, Nate would confront the Colonel in his office and insist that he quit insulting Susanna and start treating her with proper respect. In the meantime, when they all sat down to dinner, he couldn’t even look at his father, only stare at the empty chair across the table where Susanna should be sitting.
“A very fine sermon, Reverend.” The Colonel sounded as if he was awarding a medal to one of his soldiers. At least that was how it sounded to Nate.
While Mother and Rosamond added their agreement, Rand and Tolley were busy stuffing their faces. Nate wished they would pay attention. Several things the preacher had said would apply to one or both of them. Yet when Nate looked at the Colonel, he was staring straight at him, as though he was some reprobate sinner. Not that he didn’t struggle with his anger, but that wasn’t what his father referred to. Yes, they’d have a talk this afternoon, and if he lost his temper, so be it.
“Thank you, sir.” Like everyone else in the area, the preacher seemed to stand in awe of the Colonel, if his modest shrug was any indication. “I’ve been studying the Book of Proverbs for some time now and find its wisdom useful for the spiritual growth of an individual or a community.”
“Hmm.” The Colonel nodded thoughtfully. “An interesting insight. I look forward to seeing how you develop this series.”
A whole series on Proverbs? How had Nate failed to hear that bit of information? Maybe instead of talking to the Colonel, he should take Rand aside, give him a firm shake and warn him to listen next Sunday instead of dozing off.
Or, maybe instead of doing either one, he would take Susanna out for a walk and try to make up for the way his father treated her. That would be a much better way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
* * *
“So Alamosa is Spanish for grove of cottonwoods?” Susanna walked with her arm looped through Nate’s. Although she wasn’t concerned about stumbling over the roots and rocks on the uneven path, she did enjoy holding on to his muscular forearm. The last time she’d walked arm in arm with a gentleman was last Christmas, when a would-be suitor tried to talk her out of coming west. Even though she hadn’t wanted to leave her hometown, her promise to Mama that she would take care of Daddy defeated the arguments of every friend who wanted to keep her there. And now, of course, she found Nate’s company far more enjoyable than that of any other man she’d ever met. Even though he was a Yankee.
“That’s right.” Nate looked up toward the cottonwood branches swaying in the warm summer breeze. “You’ve noticed we have lots of Spanish names around here.”
“I recall you said so the day we met.” Had it been only nine days since he’d saved Daddy and her on that mountain pass? It seemed a lifetime ago. “But your ranch’s name isn’t Spanish. How did your folks come up with Four Stones?” She guessed it had something to do with the family’s four children.
Nate glanced at the house with obvious pride and affection. “The day we finished clearing this plot, the Colonel asked Mother how big she wanted her new home to be. She told each of us children to pick up a stone and mark out the four corners.” He chuckled at the memory. “I don’t think the Colonel expected us to make it so big because he walked away mumbling to himself. Of course, he eventually granted Mother’s wishes, saying the ranch would be officially named Four Stones.”
Susanna laughed with him, and it felt good deep inside. She needed to keep this conversation light before her foolish heart did something, well, foolish. “What do you think your town will be named?”
Nate shrugged one shoulder. “Don’t have any idea.” He stopped and gazed down at her, his green eyes bright in the daylight. “Don’t know how to say this in Spanish, but I’d like to call it the place where I hope Susanna settles down.”
She should answer with something saucy. Should laugh and walk away. Instead, she breathed out, “Oh, Nate, what a lovely thing to say.”
She had no idea how long they stood staring at each other. Yet she felt no embarrassment or awkwardness, just very much at home. Distant sounds reached her ears. Birds sang. Cattle bawled. Bess barked. None shattered the wrapped-in-cotton feeling that surrounded her. Against everything Mama had taught her, against her own sense of right and wrong, she longed for him to kiss her right here and now. She also hoped he would not. That was a bridge they must not cross, not now or ever.
“I just wanted you to know—” He hesitated, shook his head, then took her hand to resume their walk. After several moments, he added, “I’m getting used to having you around.” The deep tremor of emotion in his voice said far more than his words.
Was he experiencing the same hopelessness about their...friendship as she was? Did he realize, as she did, that they had no hope of happiness together? If only she could forget that fact, maybe she could enjoy this day, this hour. Tomorrow a new week would begin and—
A happy little jolt reversed the downward spiral of her emotions and sent them bubbling upward. Tomorrow she would discover whether Angela would mind her using the ingredients for her special dessert. If she didn’t mind, Susanna would give Nate a delicious treat he’d never forget.
Chapter Fifteen
Nate stood in a row with a dozen other men, each of them gripping a rope. At George Eberly’s shout, they all pulled, and the wall frame of the barn slowly rose to an upright position. Other men scrambled to pound in nails to join this section to the adjacent raised wall, while more workers removed the ropes and attached them to the opposite frame. With each successful part of the work done, a cheer went up from the crew.
The needs of the Eberlys’ livestock had outgrown the original barn, so George had torn it down to build the new one. The barn raising had begun before first light, with George’s cook, Joe, providing breakfast to everyone who came early. By midmorning, close to fifty men, all of them the Colonel’s handpicked settlers of the community, had joined in the work. The air was filled with the aroma of Joe’s side of beef and a whole pig roasting over open pits, so everyone labored with enthusiasm as they looked forward to their reward at the end of the day.
Nate never felt more content than when he was working with his friends on a community project, whether it was a barn, the church, a home for a newcomer or a building to house a business. Each success inspired the next one and fostered a sense of community among the settlers. He had to admit the Colonel had a gift for gathering his troops, so to speak, and motivating them to do great things. Nate would be foolish to leave all of this, even though his father’s constant criticism was hard to deal with, not to mention his groundless disapproval of Susanna and Mr. Anders.
Thoughts of Susanna drew his attention across the barnyard to where she and the other ladies were preparing the noon meal in the shade of several elm trees. To his surprise, she was looking his way, so he gave her a little wave. She was by far the prettiest girl there, even prettier than the five Eberly sisters, all of them too young for him. Rosamond wasn’t bad-looking, but as his sister, she didn’t count. Nor did any of the married ladies. No, Susanna had them all beat. For the past four days, she’d been holed up in the kitchen with Angela, and they’d refused to let him in. Since she’d accepted his challenge, he couldn’t wait to see what she’d concocted for today. In fact, he’d better be close to the front of the line, or her dessert might be all gone by the time he reached it. Even if it didn’t measure up to Angela’s desserts, he would say it was the best he’d ever eaten.
“Watch out, Nate.” Wes caught a board that had fallen from the frame and nearly hit Nate on the head. “What are you thinking about?” He glanced toward the ladies. “Never mind. It’s obvious.”
“Thanks, pal.” Nate gave him a friendly shove. “But mind your own business.”
And he’d better mind this business of building, or the next loose board might just knock him senseless. Not that he wasn’t already senseless when it came to Susanna.
With a gasp, Susanna caught the empty platter before it hit the hard-packed ground. She’d been watching Nate and had seen his close call, so it took a moment to regain her composure. Thank the Lord one of the other men—Wes, if she wasn’t mistaken—had caught that board just in time. When she started to return Nate’s wave, he’d already gone back to work. Maybe it was best that he not look her way again.
“Here, honey, just lay these sandwiches out on that platter.” Mrs. Eberly, a rounder version of Maisie and her four sisters, set a large basket on the cloth-covered plank table beside Susanna. “Do you think we’ll have enough to feed everyone?”
Her question was aimed more toward the older ladies who’d busied themselves with food preparations. Several spoke up, some certain they’d have no trouble feeding this army, others just as certain they needed to go inside and cook more food.
Glad not to be in charge, Susanna arranged the square sandwiches in a random fashion so they would be easy to pick up, then spread a linen towel over the platter to keep the flies away. She looked around for another task, but the other ladies seemed to have everything in hand. Her dessert lay tucked away in the Northams’ wagon, ready to be brought out when she was certain Nate would get a healthy serving. Because of all the time she’d spent in the kitchen, she’d had to tell Mrs. Northam her secret. Of course, she hadn’t mentioned that Nate’s teasing had motivated her, so her kind hostess kept complimenting her willingness to contribute to the feast.
With nothing to do, Susanna wandered in the shade watching the hum of activity. Countless workers buzzed about like a hive of bees, everyone seeming to know just what to do in building the massive barn. Even some of the children who were too young for such strenuous work carried water or lemonade to the men.
“Susanna, come over here,” Rosamond called from the back porch of the large, two-story house. Beside her stood Maisie and two of her sisters.
Pleased to be included in whatever was happening, Susanna had to force herself not to run. Even in this informal setting, she could not forget Mrs. Sweetwater’s teaching, Ladies do not run. Ever.
“What are you all doing?” Treasuring the generous way they’d accepted her, she climbed the two steps onto the wide, covered porch.
Rosamond giggled. “I just couldn’t wait until this evening to give Maisie her present. Is that all right with you?”
“Oh, yes.” Susanna had delighted in making the white shirtwaist, especially when Mrs. Northam had produced some lace from her sewing supplies.
Giggling as they went, the five girls scurried inside the house and upstairs to Maisie’s bedroom, which she shared with one of her four sisters. On her bed lay the brown paper package tied with red grosgrain ribbon.
With no ceremony whatsoever, Maisie tore into the package and pulled out the shirtwaist. And stared at it as if she had no idea what it was. “Oh. How nice.”
Susanna and Rosamond exchanged a worried look.
Maisie’s sisters, on the other hand, squealed with delight and reached out to touch the cotton garment.
“It’s beautiful. Can I borrow it?” Grace asked.
“Me, too,” Beryl said.
“You don’t like it.” Rosamond seemed near to tears.
“Oh, no.” Maisie flung her arms around her friend, squeezing the blouse between them. “It truly is beautiful. I really will wear it.” Her eyes reddened, too. “Someplace.”
“Maybe church,” one sister volunteered.
“Yes. Of course.” Maisie gave Rosamond a weak smile. “Church.”
Susanna felt like backing out of the room and disappearing. She’d insisted on the lace and frills, and now she understood her mistake. Here in this very nice, very plain bedroom, she could not see a single other frilly item. Maisie was a cowgirl, not a debutante, and had no use for such fripperies. The shirts she and her sisters wore with their split skirts looked just like men’s shirts, and they wore the same style to church with plain skirts. Even their boots didn’t have a single feminine design etched into the leather. Having no sons, Mr. Eberly must be training his daughters to run the ranch.
“Well.” Rosamond dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “That’s that. At least now we have one fancy shirtwaist among us, so if anyone needs something a bit more elegant than our usual clothes, they can borrow it.”
The other girls laughed rather boisterously, as if they wanted to help her smooth over the awkward situation.
“It’s about time to eat.” Maisie tossed the shirtwaist onto her bed. “Let’s see how we can help.”
While the other girls dashed from the room and thundered down the staircase to the back door, Susanna stifled a sigh and descended the stairs at a more ladylike pace. To Rosamond’s credit, she did not blame Susanna for the gift, and it would be pointless to claim responsibility now. Maybe later she could explain it all to Maisie. These girls were younger and less genteel than she was, but they had good hearts, and she despaired of ruining their budding friendship.
* * *
Nate lined up with the other men to clean up at the washtubs, then made his way to the food lines. After his near accident, he’d lost track of Susanna, but now saw her behind one of the tables serving food. He could always tell when she was sad or depressed. Although her posture never sagged, he could see the smallest difference in the tilt of her head or the turn of her shoulders. If the Colonel had said something to hurt her feelings, today of all days when she was working as hard as any of the ladies, he’d have to find a way to make it up to her when he reached her spot.
“Won’t you have one of Mrs. Barkley’s pickles?” She poked a fork into a Mason jar and pulled out a plump one that carried a powerful briny smell.
In the corner of his eye, he saw Mrs. Barkley nearby, so he smiled at Susanna. “Yes, thank you.” With memories of how the older lady’s pickles tasted, he decided he could bury it later when nobody was watching. “When do I get some of that dessert you made?” He waggled his eyebrows in the hope that she would give him one of her sassy responses.
She didn’t even look directly at him, didn’t even smile. “Mrs. Eberly said dessert will be served in the middle of the afternoon. That way nobody will get too full and not be able to go back to work.”
“Good idea.”
He touched the brim of his hat and moved on. Something had caused her sadness, and he intended to find out what it was. Once work resumed, he’d look for an opportunity to come back to ask her. But after he finished eating and returned to the rhythm of working on the walls side by side with the other men, no such opportunity arose.
In midafternoon, a one-horse buggy rolled onto the property. The driver, a youngish-looking man in a black suit, clearly wasn’t looking to be a part of the work crew. When Nate noticed the Colonel and George Eberly striding toward the newcomer, curiosity got the better of him. He turned his job of toting siding boards over to another man and followed his father.
“Dr. Henshaw.” The Colonel greeted him with an outstretched hand. “Welcome. Let’s secure your horse away from the work area, and then I’ll introduce you around. This is George Eberly.”
While they talked, Nate ambled up as though just passing by. “Can I take care of your rig for you?” So this was the doctor the Colonel had summoned to serve their community, the son of the doctor who’d been his company’s physician in the army.
“Why, thank you.” He wrapped the reins around the brake and took great care in climbing down. Once on the ground, he straightened his jacket and bow tie.
Dandy. The word popped into Nate’s mind before he could stop it. It wouldn’t do to judge this man too hastily.
“Doc, this is my oldest boy, Nate.” The Colonel jerked his head in Nate’s direction. “How’s your father?”
“He is well, thank you.” The doctor removed leather gloves to reveal
soft, pale hands. Even Preacher Thomas had a workingman’s hands and had labored all day beside the others on the barn. “He said to give you his regards.” The doc chuckled. “And his thanks for getting me out of his hair.”
“Sounds just like him.” The Colonel snorted out a laugh. “I guess he did all his bragging about you when he wrote to me.” He clapped the other man on the shoulder. “Let me introduce you to the folks you’ll be taking care of.”
The three of them walked away while Nate led the horse to a corral by a shady stand of cottonwoods. There he unhitched him to graze with the other carriage horses. Nate would send one of the younger boys with water for all of the animals, but now he needed to get back to work.
Boy. That was what the Colonel had called him to this fellow who couldn’t be more than a year or two older than Nate. And he’d shown more respect for the doctor than he’d ever shown Nate. He wouldn’t fault the doc. That wouldn’t do any good. But it soured in his belly like one of Mrs. Barkley’s pickles to practically run Four Stones Ranch for his father and yet still be called a boy.
Would he get more respect if he became a doctor? A preacher? An army officer? He’d never know, because the Lord sure hadn’t called him to any other profession than ranching. If his father had so little regard for that occupation, why on earth had he ever come west?
* * *
Susanna joined the other girls in washing dishes so the older ladies could rest before starting supper preparations. Several large washtubs were set on benches, and the stronger girls carried hot water from a cauldron over an open fire.
Despairing of ever having soft, white hands again, Susanna plunged into the task with all the energy she could muster. Before leaving home, she’d never had a callus on her palms or sunburn on the backs of her hands. But complaining or feeling sorry for herself wouldn’t help, so she tried to join in the good humor of the other girls. All of them were as brown as berries and didn’t seem to mind at all.
Cowboy to the Rescue Page 14
