The ride to the schoolhouse hadn’t silenced the buzz in her. Not even the smell of the flowering sage bushes she’d passed had been able to quiet her nerves. And even now, as she looked up into the big oak tree they’d all played under as children, fear—or excitement—coursed through her in a way she’d not know before.
What was there to be nervous about? She already knew Adam, Luke and Andy and she was going to meet a girl close to her own age. She couldn’t understand why that would be a problem—but she couldn’t understand her eagerness to meet this person who couldn’t walk, either. She was probably just like anyone else in every way that counted. Her mama had always told her that people were all they same inside and they all wanted to same things, too—to help, to love and to feel part of a community. She doubted that this Carol was any different.
“There you are, right on time,” Rose said as she closed the door of the schoolhouse. She tugged her gloves on and pulled herself into the buggy beside Saffron, tying her bonnet under her chin. Saffron had always thought Rose was one of the smartest, most big-hearted people she’d ever met, and she felt no different now.
Rose reached down toward the basket. “What have you got here?”
Saffron brushed her hand away and laughed. “Empanadas, but for the Bensons, not for you.”
Rose stuck out her bottom lip, a trick that had worked on all of them when she was a child. Now that she was an adult, it just made Saffron laugh.
“All right, just one, but not because of the pout.”
Rose smiled and bit into the flaky pastry, closing her eyes as she chewed. “I sure miss Maria’s cooking. Michael’s a great cook and I’ve really learned to love Italian food, but I do miss a good empanada.”
Saffron concentrated on the road before her as Rose finished and brushed flakes of pastry from her skirt.
“Why so quiet?” she said, turning to Saffron.
“Rose, have you ever thought about what it might be like not to walk?”
Rose turned to her sister and then looked back out at the horizon. “I suppose I haven’t. It never occurred to me.”
“Ever since I heard about this girl, I think about it a lot.”
Rose patted her sister’s shoulder. “You don’t need to worry, Saffron. It won’t happen to you. I think those things happen in childhood, usually, and you’re all grown up.”
“What?” Saffron turned to her sister.
“I said that you don’t need to worry. It isn’t going to happen to you.”
Saffron shook her head slowly. “No, I’m not worried about me. I can’t stop wondering what it must be like for her.”
“Oh!” Rose said, her eyes wide. “I don’t imagine it’s very easy, now that you mention it.”
“It can’t be easy at all. Not to even be able to do the simplest things, like get from the parlor to the kitchen without assistance—I find myself wondering how she manages. Especially without another woman in the house to help her.”
Rose placed her hand on her chest. “Oh, my, I hadn’t thought of that. The poor dear.”
“I hope she won’t mind that we’re calling today. Do they know we’re coming?”
“I asked Michael to tell the boys, so let’s hope he did. If he didn’t, maybe the empanadas will be enough of an apology for dropping in unannounced.”
Saffron guided the horses down the dirt road leading to the north of town. The house that Adam had moved to had been owned by a friend of her mother’s previously, and they’d visited several times. It had been a while ago, and she remembered it differently, her eyebrows rising as she caught a glimpse of the broad porch with new railing and a swing, and the house looked like it had a new coat of whitewash. She wondered how Adam had time to do any of this when he was building a business as a farrier.
They passed the last of the cactus and sagebrush, coming to a stop in front of the house that now belonged to the Bensons. In the windows beyond the porch, Saffron thought sure she saw the white lace curtains pulled up, then dropped closed as they pulled up. She reached down for the basket and handed it to Rose and then hopped down herself.
As she tied the reins to the post, she turned to Rose. “Are you certain this is a good idea?”
“All we’re doing is bringing some books for the young lady. How can that be wrong? You know him better than I do, but certainly he can’t be opposed to her having something to read, don’t you think?”
Saffron tugged at her bonnet. “I certainly do not know him better than you. He splashed me with mud and spoke to me briefly at the ranch. That’s hardly knowing someone.”
Rose reached for the books she’d brought on the floor of the buggy. “Well, I can’t imagine anyone would mind. What’s wrong with books? Especially for someone who can’t go outside much? You spend most of your time in the house even when you don’t have to.”
“I do not.” Saffron lifted her skirt and climbed the wooden stairs to the front door—right behind her sister.
“Then something must have changed dramatically since I’ve married and moved.” Rose gave her sister a sidelong glance before she lifted her hand to knock on the door. It opened before she had a chance to even look back at the door.
“Hello, Mrs. Tate.” The older boy, Luke, opened the door and smiled at Rose and Saffron.
“Good afternoon, Luke. It’s nice to see you. You remember my sister, don’t you?”
Luke nodded at Saffron. “I do remember. Hello, Miss Archer. It’s nice to see you as well.”
“Were you able to mention to your brother that we’d be dropping by? With books for your sister?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Tate. He hasn’t been back yet from the ranch he’s visiting today, so I wasn’t able to ask him.”
“Oh, well, that’s all right. I’m sure he won’t mind. We’ve just brought you some books—well, for your sister—and some apple pastries for you.” Rose took a step forward as if she expected Luke to allow her to pass.
Luke lowered his head as he stood in the doorway, not moving to allow them to pass. “I thank you kindly, Mrs. Tate, but I don’t think it’d be a good idea for you to stop in without Adam knowing first. I mean, he—well, I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Rose took a step back and frowned. “What harm could there be in us meeting your sister, and delivering what we’ve brought? We’ll only stay a moment.”
Luke shifted from one foot to the other, looking increasingly uncomfortable. “I know it doesn’t seem so, Mrs. Tate, but I just think it’d be better if—”
Saffron smiled at Luke as he looked up at her with pleading eyes. She held out the basket of empanadas to him and took the books from Rose, placing them in the side of the basket. “Please give these to your sister with our warmest regards, and tell her we do hope she likes them. And that you all enjoy the pastries. Good day, Luke.”
“But—” Rose started to say before Saffron nodded at Luke, took her sister’s elbow and guided her down the stairs and back to the buggy.
Once they were out of earshot, she whispered, “There’s a reason he can’t let us come in, and he’s not any happier about it than you are. No point arguing and making him even more uncomfortable.”
Rose’s hands fell to her hips and she looked from Saffron to the closed front door and back again. “Oh, all right. But this will not be my last attempt to help someone have access to the outside world.”
Saffron sighed as she untied the horses, knowing full well that Rose was telling the truth. It wouldn’t be her last attempt.
Chapter 12
Adam rubbed his hand along the cool metal of the hoof nippers, the familiar feeling comforting. The same ones his father had given him as a boy, the ones he’d taken for granted—he cherished them now. Memories of riding from ranch to ranch with his father crept in unbidden, and he shook his head as if that would keep them out.
So much had changed, but these tools never did. He set the last of his farrier tools back in the soft leather, making sure they were ready for
tomorrow’s calls. He was thankful for his good fortune—or good luck—in finding work so quickly. People told him his reputation had preceded him, but he didn’t believe it. He was just an average farrier, and a pretty young one at that. But if his father had left him that legacy, he’d gladly take it. It might help with the other things his parents had left him.
His hands clenched at the memory of the unfortunate friend who’d had to deliver the news. Adam had been out at the gatepost, nailing on a stray board, and had stood slowly as Mrs. Buchanan drove up. He should have known something was terribly wrong when she wouldn’t meet his gaze.
He knew he’d slumped back against the gatepost, sliding until he was sitting on the ground. He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, but long enough that the boys had returned from school to find him, his hands on his knees and his forehead in his hands.
However long it had been, it was long enough for him to decide that he had to find a way to keep them together. He might find a relative who could take the boys—they were old enough to work hard—but they had no relations brave or honest enough to take on Carol, and all that meant. And if he was going to look after her—which he surely was—he might as well find a way to keep them all together.
He squared his shoulders as he walked toward the house, his ears still burning at the scolding he’d gotten from the teacher at the schoolhouse. All he knew was that they’d been turned away, and he was glad of it. It had been hard enough to keep track of the boys going to school, and he didn’t need more people coming and going.
He hung his hat on the peg by the door and listened for a moment for any sign of movement. In the quiet, he lifted the lid to the pot of beans he’d put on to soak before he’d left in the morning, and he’d have had supper ready by now if he hadn’t had to stop by the mercantile for some bacon to fry up with the beans. And if he hadn’t had to get bacon, he wouldn’t have run into the schoolmarm.
Her words rang in his ears as he lifted the red checked curtain to the window out the backyard. The boys had taken Carol outside—not too far, which was all right—and she sat on a blanket on the ground with a basket by her side, laughing as they climbed the tree out back, the only one among the cactus that surrounded their house.
“A young girl like that could use some company, Mr. Benson, and I for one would be happy to do that. I’m sure she’d like to hear about the outside world, and maybe even read some books,” Mrs. Tate had said as he took a step back from her on the boardwalk.
He’d told her he’d think about it. But he wasn’t particularly inclined to accept. The only way he was managing was to keep things simple, and that didn’t sound—simple. Besides, he’d vowed to keep Carol safe, and she was safest here, at home, where he could watch her. Just him and the boys.
Carol looked up and smiled as he sat down on the blanket beside her, the boys waving from up in the tree before they scrambled to climb down.
“Hey, Adam, you’re home!” Andy said as he ran over and skidded to a stop on the blanket.
“Whoa, there, buddy,” Adam said as he grabbed Andy and sat him down proper, patting his shoulder. “Watch your step around Carol.”
“We’re always careful, Adam. You don’t have to remind us.” Luke stiffened, his shoulders tight.
Luke was right. He was always careful. Especially according to Mrs. Tate.
“What’s in the basket?” Adam said as he lifted the cloth.
Carol’s eyes darted to Andy before she looked at Adam. “Um, some very nice ladies brought them over. They’re apple turnovers.”
“Some ladies?” Adam took a bite of the turnover, his stomach grumbling. He wasn’t the best cook in the world and his siblings didn’t seem to mind, but heck if he’d ever had something so sweet and light.
Dust rose as Andy kicked the ground with his boot, his hands in his back pockets. “Yeah, some ladies came to see Carol. We didn’t let them in, though.”
“Was one of the ladies Mrs. Tate, from school?”
Andy’s eyes grew wide and he looked at his older brother, who stood silently behind him, his arms folded over his chest.
“It was. I mean, she was one of them. The other lady was Miss Archer, the one you got all muddy the other day.”
Carol laughed. “I sure wish I could have seen that.” She took a bite of the pastry. “And I wish I could have met them both when they stopped to visit.”
Adam’s heart tugged as he looked at his sister. He knew why Luke had barred entry, and he’d basically taught him to. There was only one of him, and he couldn’t be everywhere he wanted to be, keeping Carol—and the boys—safe from harm. He imagined Luke had seen that and wanted to do the same thing. At least he understood.
Carol tossed one of her blonde braids behind her and straightened her blue cotton dress. She looked up at him, and as his eyes met her blue ones—the same as his and his parents’ and his brothers’—he sighed. She’d once been so outgoing, running in the yard, and she’d always loved school. Now, though, everything was different.
“I just did what I thought you’d want me to, Adam,” Luke said as he shoved his hands in his pockets and lowered his head.
Adam patted his younger brother on the shoulder and Luke looked up at him, relief spreading across his young features.
They’d all had it rough, no two ways about it. They’d been here a month. Maybe the schoolmarm was right, and Carol could use some company. Female, at that.
He knew Carol would never ask, wouldn’t complain and he squatted, cupping her delicate chin in his hand. “Carol, would you like some company? Mrs. Tate said she could come over after school some days and bring you some books. Maybe read together.”
Carol smiled and wrapped her arms around Adam’s neck. His heart tugged as he lifted her off the blanket and she buried her head on his shoulder.
“Thank you, Adam. I would very much like that—that is, if you don’t mind.”
“No, I don’t mind,” he said, hoping that he wasn’t opening a door that should have been left closed.
Chapter 13
Saffron set the book she’d been reading down on the weathered pine table. She ran her hands over the rough wood that she’d tried to polish over and over—but it still looked worn and old. Nothing she’d ever tried had been able to change that.
She’d finally given up, and when she’d come out onto the back porch of the ranch house today to lie in the shade and read her book—a moment she’d earned by helping in the kitchen all day—the sight of it comforted her. The streaks of gray and white from wind and rain spoke of a long life, giving pleasure but also withstanding hardships.
She looked out over the rolling hills dotted with cactus and sage bushes behind the house, small beds of flowers lining the house but not moving much further out. Water was scarce here, and most of it was used for growing things they could eat. Saffron was grateful that her father had let her keep the small rows of flowers near the house that had been planted by her mother, and she smiled at the sprouts popping up now that spring had arrived.
She sighed, content in the garden with her book. She wondered if Carol had been given the books she and Rose had taken over. Had she eaten the empanadas? Had she liked them?
She shook the curiosity out of her head. Nothing to be done about it as they weren’t welcome, and Luke had made that clear as a bell. Maybe she would run into her at the mercantile—but that would require leaving the house, which she became less inclined to do by the day. Everything she needed was right here.
She turned the last page of the book she’d been reading and sighed. Another good one. She closed the cover, running her hand over the cool leather as the grandfather clock struck four. She had just enough time to replace it in her father’s library and choose a new one—she was working her way from A to Z—before Maria would ask for her to help start supper.
“I thought I’d find you here,” Rose said from behind her as Saffron was on her tiptoes replacing the book she’d just finished to its appropriate shel
f.
She turned and smiled at her sister, who had taken off her bonnet and wrap and plonked down in the dark leather chair by their father’s desk.
“It used to be that I’d say the same to you.” Saffron ran her fingers along the spines of the books...the last one had been short, the last of the authors in the R’s. It had only been since Rose had married that she wasn’t a fixture in that chair, working her way through all their father’s books just like Saffron was now.
“Ah, you’re all the way to S. Not too many left to go. What will you do when you’ve read them all?” Rose leaned toward the bookshelf, her eyes moving slowly over the titles. She’d loved reading as much as Saffron—but wanted to visit all the places she’d read about. Saffron had no such desire, perfectly content to stay home, help Maria and read more. She visited plenty of places inside her head and had no need to see them in person.
Rose crossed to the bookcase and ran her finger along the A’s. “Don’t tell me you want to read them all again. There certainly must be other things you’d be inclined to do, Saffron.”
“I don’t believe so. I’m perfectly content here. And besides, what would all of you do if I weren’t here to listen to your woes when you needed me?”
Rose laughed. “You certainly have done your fair share of drying our tears since Mama passed. Lucky for us,” she said as she rested her hand on her sister’s arm.
Saffron chose her next book and pulled it from the shelf, anxious to begin. She tucked the book under her arm and turned to her sister. “Are you here for supper? Maria and I haven’t started yet, but I’m sure we will shortly. I believe it’s chili and biscuits and I know you love that.”
Saffron: A Sweet Western Historical Romance (Brides of Archer Ranch Book 1) Page 5
