Cowboy to the Rescue

by Louise M. Gouge

  Susanna hated that he wanted to maintain their pose of poverty. Why couldn’t they just tell them all who they were and be done with it?

  “Zack.” The Colonel was the only one who hadn’t dismounted. Susanna suspected he wanted to maintain a more intimidating position. “I’m assuming you’ll be returning my horses once you park these people someplace far away from here.”

  Zack started to answer, but Daddy held up a hand to silence him.

  “Colonel Northam.” His voice cut through the air like a steel rapier, something Susanna had rarely heard from her mellow father. “I paid for these horses, a fact to which both your man Wes and my man Zack will attest. You’ll find your money in young Rita’s care, and I have the bill of sale right here.” He patted his tattered jacket right above the pocket.

  Thunder rode across the Colonel’s brow. “Your man Zack?”

  Zack cleared his throat. “Um, yessir. I’ve decided to go to work for Mr. Anders.”

  Colonel Northam snorted out his disgust. “So much for your loyalty to me.”

  His arrogant remark must have stung Zack because he spat over the side of the wagon and pulled his hat lower on his forehead.

  “But where will you go?” Nate reached for Susanna’s hand, and a pleasant shiver went up her arm. Oh, they really must leave before his protectiveness undid her.

  “As Daddy said, we have a place.” She refused to look into his eyes, even when he tugged on her hand.

  “Where? When can I come see you?” He looked up at Daddy, then briefly at the Colonel.

  “Let them go, son.” The Colonel dismounted and handed his horse off to Rand, then gripped Nate’s shoulder. “We’re well rid of them.”

  “No, we’re not. I—”

  Puppy yips from inside the wagon interrupted him, and he gave her his lopsided grin.

  “I’m glad you didn’t forget her. Did you take the kitten, too?” His sweet look tore at Susanna’s heart. It was all she could do not to throw herself into his arms.

  “I told you,” the Colonel barked, “she can’t have that dog.” He marched to the back of the wagon and lowered the tailgate. “Angela, what are you doing here? Are you deserting us, too?”

  Nate started. “What’s going on?” This time he spoke to Daddy.

  “Well, son, Miss Angela and I have decided to get married.”

  Susanna broke away from Nate and hurried to the Colonel. “This puppy is the runt of the litter and has a bum leg, so she won’t do you any good for herding cattle. And I paid for her. Ask Rita.” She waved a hand toward the girl, whose round eyes revealed her anxiety and who quickly held up the gold coin.

  “What else did you buy?” The Colonel began to fling aside the blankets. “Well, well, well. Nate, get over here, boy. Take a look at what your sweetheart and her thieving father decided to carry off along with some of my employees.”

  * * *

  Nate heard Mother’s buggy arrive, but Tolley had just come over from the barn. He’d have to take care of helping her down. Nate walked to the back of the prairie schooner on wooden legs, terrified of what he would see. Casting a glance at Susanna, he noted that her chin jutted out and defiance blazed in her eyes.

  “Now, don’t those boxes look familiar?” The Colonel reached in and pulled one crate onto the lowered tailgate. He lifted the lid to reveal Mother’s silver tea service. “See anything amiss here, son?”

  Nate couldn’t speak for the sick feeling clogging his throat. Nor could he look at Susanna. What a fool he’d been. While Mr. Anders’s injuries had been real, everything else Nate had believed about the two of them was surely a lie.

  “What’s happening here?” Mother joined them, with Rosamond and Rand right behind her. She first saw Angela and started to address her. Then, seeing the silver set, she gasped. “Susanna, what have you done?” Mother reached out to touch Susanna, but Susanna jerked away.

  “What have I done?” She moved toward the front of the wagon. “Why don’t you ask your husband what he has done?”

  “Now, wait just a minute.” Nate could feel his temper rising at her angry tone of voice. Standing here with his family, he knew where his loyalties lay.

  “No. You wait just a minute.” Susanna glanced up at her father. “Am I going to tell them, or are you?”

  “Well, daughter, you were there when it happened, so you go right ahead.”

  At the old man’s smug look, Nate wanted to plant his fist on his jaw. “Dad, why don’t we just send for the sheriff and be done with it?” He was gratified to see his father didn’t correct the way he addressed him.

  “You can do what you like, Nate.” The curl of Susanna’s lips shouted her disgust. “But first you and your whole family will hear what I have to say.” She pointed an accusing finger at the Colonel. “This fine, upstanding leader of your community is nothing but a thief and a murderer.”

  “Now, just a minute,” Nate repeated. Every good thing he’d ever thought about her now made him sick to his stomach.

  “Quiet, son.” The Colonel crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “Go on, girl.”

  She faltered for a moment and, oddly, Nate wanted to help her. What a foolish, lovesick puppy he was. No wonder his father had wanted him to listen to Reverend Thomas’s sermon on Proverbs. This truly was one deceitful woman in front of him now.

  “First of all, our name isn’t Anders. It’s MacAndrews.” She gave the Colonel a piercing look. “Does that sound familiar, Colonel? You should know it seeing as how you tried to wipe it off the face of this earth.”

  His glare softened, replaced by a look Nate couldn’t identify. Worry? Shame?

  “Y’all are so proud that Colonel Northam rode with General Sherman,” Susanna said. “Well, I’m going to tell you something you don’t know about that little excursion. On November 29, 1864, he and his troops rode onto my father’s plantation. Daddy was away fighting, so of course those coward Yankees took great pleasure in terrifying the women and children he’d left behind. When my brother, just twelve years old, tried to stop them, this heroic soldier ordered him hanged. Hang a twelve-year-old! If my mama hadn’t given him the buried silver tea service and her own sapphire necklace—our family heirlooms—he would have murdered a mere boy who was just trying to protect his mama and baby sister.” She went to the back of the wagon and returned with a black jewel box, then held it in front of Mother. “Look. You can still see Georgia soil imbedded deep in the velvet.”

  “Oh, Frank.” Mother held a hand up to her lips, and her eyes filled with tears.

  Nate still felt sick to his stomach, but for a different reason. Why wasn’t the Colonel denying these charges? Instead, his face had gone pale, almost ashen, and his arms dropped to his sides.

  “As if that wasn’t enough.” Susanna’s eyes also filled, “this brave officer ordered my brother’s arms broken and the house burned down with everything in it. His men killed our livestock and even our pets.” Her voice shook, but she seemed to force herself to continue, “My sweet old widowed grandmama died of apoplexy right out in the field while those coward Yankees rode away laughing.” She looked around at each member of Nate’s family, her accusing gaze settling at last on him.

  He quickly turned to his father, whose face bore no denial of her charges.

  “Frank, is this true?” Mother dabbed at her tears with a handkerchief.

  “MacAndrews. Yes, I remember the place.” The Colonel eyed Susanna’s father and studied him briefly. “I remember.” His shoulders slumped, and he walked to his horse, mounted and rode south.

  As the hoofbeats died away, quiet settled over the front yard. The rest of the family stared around at each other.

  Mother stood to her full height of five feet nothing and marched to the wagon. “Mr. Anders, I should say, Mr. MacAndrews, I never would have worn that necklace
or used that lovely tea service if I’d known they were spoils of war. I thought my husband bought them in New York on his way home from the war.” The pain in her voice sent shards of remorse through Nate for the way he’d spoken to brave Susanna. “Please keep your heirlooms with my blessings. You will have no trouble from anyone named Northam on this account.” She looked at Nate, Rand, Rosamond and Tolley, silently ordering each of them to obey as only Mother could.

  Mr. MacAndrews tipped his hat to her. “Ma’am, I can see you’re entirely innocent in this matter. And now, please accept my humble gratitude for taking such good care of my daughter and me in our ill fortune. I don’t know what we would have done if Nate hadn’t come along.” He spared Nate a smile and a nod. “We’ll be eternally grateful.”

  Thumbs hooked on his gun belt, Nate shrugged and scuffed the toe of his boot across a piece of driveway gravel. He noticed Susanna struggling to lift the tailgate and hurried over to help her. Just brushing his arm against hers sent a bittersweet pang through his chest. Wordlessly, he helped her into the wagon beside Angela, then secured the gate. Through no fault of their own, their love was doomed never to blossom. This must be the way Romeo and Juliet felt when their families’ feud kept them apart.

  With no little difficulty, he walked around to the front of the wagon. “Ready to go, sir.”

  “Thank you, my boy.” Mr. MacAndrews touched the brim of his hat. “Shall we go, Miss Angela?” he said over his shoulder. “We have an appointment with the preacher, and we don’t want to keep him waiting.”

  As they drove away, Susanna peered out at Nate just as she had weeks ago while they’d crossed the Valley in their separate wagons. Only now, instead of her cheerful smiles and friendly waves, her lovely face exuded the same sense of desolation weighing on his chest like a one-ton bull. And with her went every hope he’d ever had for happiness.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Susanna and Zack stood up with Daddy and Angela for their wedding ceremony in the church. Afterward, as they all sat in Reverend Thomas’s small parlor sipping coffee and eating the cake Angela had cleverly brought along, Daddy retold their story.

  The minister listened with great interest. “As a Southerner, I understand how you must feel, Mr. MacAndrews. My father fought for the Confederacy, but his brother chose the Union. They still don’t speak to each other. Some of that same animosity still runs deep in the South, especially with the failure of Reconstruction.” He accepted Angela’s offer of more cake and dug into it before continuing.

  “Like everyone else growing up in a divided family, I’ve had to sort out my own opinions about the war. In truth, I’m glad the Confederacy failed. I’m thankful to the Lord for bringing us back together as a country. After growing up in Virginia, then attending seminary in Massachusetts, I just couldn’t go back to a town where President Lincoln’s assassination is still celebrated. That’s why I accepted Colonel Northam’s invitation to serve this community as their pastor. Maybe out here in the West, we can put all of that behind us and start doing the Lord’s work in earnest.”

  He smiled at the newlyweds, then focused on Daddy. “I can see you’ve already set aside some of your old ideas.”

  “Reverend, we will say no more about those old ideas.” Daddy took Angela’s hand and gazed at her fondly. “Miss Angela is a gift from the Almighty, a light in my dark, lonely world.”

  Susanna watched them through tear-filled eyes. The minister was right, of course. They needed to leave the past behind and find out what the Lord wanted for their future. While Susanna had no hope of ever marrying Nate, she couldn’t help but be happy for Daddy. Even Mama wouldn’t want Daddy to be alone the rest of his life, but what would she think of his marriage to a Mexican lady? Then again, Mama was in heaven, so it didn’t matter. That thought shocked Susanna, but it also rang true deep in her soul.

  Now she had to figure out her own opinions. She already liked Angela and had enjoyed working side by side with her in the kitchen. Her generosity and faith in God set an example, especially considering all that she’d suffered. And although she’d been a servant, she knew how to manage Daddy. That alone was an admirable feat.

  “Daughter?” Daddy touched her hand and winked. He must have noticed her preoccupation. “What have you decided to call your new stepmama?”

  Susanna saw the lady’s apprehensive smile, and her heart warmed with the desire to reassure her. For a Southerner, that meant only one thing.

  “Why, if it’s all right with both of you, I believe I’d like to call her Miss Angela.”

  * * *

  Nate settled uneasily back into his old room. Oddly, not a trace of Mr. Anders—MacAndrews—remained, not a single gray hair or scent of liniment. Either Angela had cleaned it before they left, or Rita was eager to show the family she could manage all of the housekeeping chores. Still, Nate missed sitting at the bedside chatting with the old man. He’d felt closer to him than he ever had the Colonel.

  That wasn’t true. During those long months ten years ago as the family had traveled across the country, first by train, then by wagon train, he and his father had worked side by side taking care of the others. He’d been only thirteen years old when they started out, but the Colonel had treated him with respect and depended on him as if he were a grown man. Sometime after they arrived in the San Luis Valley and began to build their ranch, his father changed. He gave Rand his head, ignored Tolley, doted on Rosamond and just barked orders at Nate. Nate still had no idea what had happened to bring about that change.

  Now the Colonel had changed again. He did his work and showed up for supper every evening, but his eyes bore a haunted look, and he took no interest in conversation. That was the final proof Nate needed to believe everything Susanna had said. No wonder she hated his father.

  Although Nate had been shocked to learn of the connection between his family and hers, he couldn’t condemn the Colonel. He and Sherman and Grant had done what they had to do to end the war and preserve the Union. From the way the Colonel had reacted to Susanna’s story, he no doubt felt a hefty measure of guilt for some of his actions. Nate just hoped his father took up the matter with the Lord before his guilty feelings made him sick. He also hoped never to go to war himself, but a man had to go when duty called.

  Nate already felt pretty sick about losing Susanna. As much as he wanted to ride up to the settlement and find where she lived, maybe go see how she and her father were doing, he had responsibilities on the ranch that couldn’t be put off. In the next week, he and some of the hands would ride up into the hills where the largest part of their cattle herd had grazed all summer. They’d round them up, drive them down to the ranch, check them for disease and injuries, brand any calves that had been born and then send the healthy ones off to market before winter snows closed all of the passes.

  All that was left to him was to pray for Susanna to find peace. And maybe remember him from time to time. He knew he’d never forget her. Only one bright thought cheered him. Her father had bought property and wouldn’t be likely to leave it. When Nate came home from roundup, he couldn’t think of a single thing to prevent him from going to see her. Whether she wanted to see him was an entirely different matter.

  * * *

  “You silly puppy.” Susanna removed Lazy Daisy from the burlap bag beside her on the ground. The pesky pup seemed determined to dig out every potato Susanna placed in it. With Shadow, the dog’s favorite playmate, back at the house, she was doing her best to get into mischief while Susanna worked.

  Bending over to retrieve the scattered potatoes, Susanna straightened carefully, holding one hand against her aching back. Several yards away, Miss Angela hummed as she plunged a pitchfork into the ground beside a withered plant, pressed down on the handle and pushed the round, red potatoes to the surface. No matter how much she watched her stepmother, Susanna could not figure out how she could work so hard without h
urting her back or complaining. With her example and Mama’s before her, Susanna tried to maintain a cheerful attitude, even as her heart cried for Nate. If he’d truly cared for her, wouldn’t he come see her? Or had his father forbidden him?

  The season’s first hard frost had come early, setting the sugars in the fruit and berries, and signaling harvest time for the potatoes and other produce. Today Zack had driven them in the prairie schooner to a farm north of their new home, just across the Rio Grande, where for a small fee the farmers allowed people to dig their own supply of potatoes. These vegetables were not Susanna’s favorite, but they were an important staple to keep on hand. She did look forward to enjoying the corn they’d already picked and dried. The widow who’d sold Daddy the property left behind some chickens and a hog, and Zack located a milk cow. These provisions, along with what they could purchase at Winsted’s General Store, just opened beside Williams’s Café, would see them through the winter.

  Like the Northams’ house, the foundation, fireplaces and chimneys of her new home were built of stones gathered from the surrounding fields. Zack explained that the man who’d built the house had wisely chosen a rocky bluff above the flood plain to lay his foundation. There in the shade of cottonwood, elm and pine trees, they could enjoy the river flowing beside their property without worrying about spring floods washing them away. They could also add to their larder all the trout Daddy and Zack could catch. Susanna and Angela put up elderberry and chokecherry preserves and dried slices of the plump green apples from the tree beside the house.

  While they worked, Susanna questioned Miss Angela about her life. What began as a means of forgetting Nate ended up as an education.

  “In 1840, the government of Mexico gave my father a land grant north of Mount Blanca. After the war between Mexico and the United States, the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo said we must leave. My father had been a wealthy man, and he put all of his money into his ranch. When his land was taken without payment, he would not leave my mother’s grave. He stayed in the San Luis Valley, working as a horse trainer for the American man who was given our land.”