The Cowboy's City Girl

by Linda Ford

  He’d ask Pa to send him to one of the far line cabins, but something stubborn and stupid inside him wouldn’t allow him to do so.

  Friday dawned bright and clear. Since breakfast, Levi had laid out planks for the fence, driving long spikes into them with deadly blows of his hammer. He’d worked so hard at not looking toward the house that his back ached and he used the pain as an excuse to straighten. Could he help it if the house was in his line of sight? Beatrice bent over the rosebush, smelling one of the pink blossoms. She wore a pink dress that matched the color of the roses. Her blond hair had been twisted into some kind of pretty roll at the back of her head, but strands of it drifted about her face. She tucked a strand behind her ear as she straightened.

  She turned and looked in his direction.

  Even across the distance he felt her golden-brown eyes searching. For what, he could not say. He’d done his best to avoid her, running from his feelings, pretending his kiss hadn’t meant far more than he meant it to. To him, at least. He couldn’t say what it meant to her.

  Was she aware of his avoidance or did she put it down to Big Sam’s return?

  He gave a little wave and bent over his work again.

  Had he ever felt so keenly aware of everything Helen did? Been so attracted to her voice, her movements, her observations of nature and her assessments of the ranch?

  Of course not. She knew the ranch and ranch work as well as he. Things in nature that Beatrice commented on, Helen had known all her life.

  Another demanding question surfaced. Had he ever missed Helen the minute she stepped out of sight? He would not answer the question.

  Aren’t I supposed to be guarding my heart?

  He would continue to do so. He must.

  He might have succeeded in pretending he wasn’t so keenly aware of Beatrice except he heard the concern in her voice when she called, “Dolly?”

  His hammer dropped to the ground as he straightened to stare across the yard to her.

  She hurried from one spot to the next, calling the child.

  His nerves twitched and he trotted to the house. “What’s wrong?”

  She grabbed his arm, her eyes wide. “I can’t find Dolly. She was here a moment ago.”

  “She won’t have gone far.” The child never wandered. She only left Beatrice’s side to play outside with the kitten and even then remained by the door. He called her name. “We won’t hear her if she answers. Not unless she decides to speak above a whisper.”

  “What if...?” They looked at each other with the same thought. What if the intruders had taken her?

  “They’ve never done anything more than mischief.” Somehow he felt it was a personal attack directed at him. The fact there had been no sign of them since Pa returned reinforced the thought. Someone seemed to delight in tormenting him.

  Of course, if they’d seen him playing with Dolly, they might understand he cared about the child and think to hurt him by taking her.

  He bent over and studied the tracks in the dust. It wasn’t hard to pick out Dolly’s. “She headed for the trees here. Let’s see where she went.” He reached for Beatrice’s hand, relieved when she took it. He’d wondered if she might try to keep a safe distance between them after he’d kissed her.

  Just as he meant to. But present circumstances overrode the need.

  They entered the wooded area behind the house. The ground crackled under their feet—it was dry and dusty after a long, hot summer. It yielded no sign of Dolly.

  “Can you see her tracks?” Beatrice asked, her voice thin with worry.

  “She was headed this way.” He pushed aside a low-hanging branch and held it for Beatrice to follow. Her pink-rose scent wafted to him and he turned. “We’ll find her.” He would do anything to ease the pinched look about Beatrice’s eyes.

  She searched his gaze, at first uncertain and afraid, and then she nodded, confidence easing the strain in her eyes. “Then let’s do it. The poor child will be so afraid.”

  Squeezing her hand, they forged onward, calling Dolly but more often pausing to listen, knowing they would never hear her whisper. Crows flew from the trees, cawing a loud protest. Overhead, a flock of geese honked as they flew by in a V.

  But they heard no little girl.

  He stopped. “I can’t believe she would have gone this far. Let’s search closer to the house.”

  They searched through the tangled underbrush. But back at the yard, they had not found her.

  “I’m worried,” Beatrice said.

  “Me, too. But we will find her. I promise you.”

  “What if...?”

  His jaw clenched. “We will find her.” If those men had taken her, he would follow them to the ends of the earth. “Let’s try that direction.”

  She tugged on his hand and stopped him. “We need help.”

  He glanced past her toward the barn. Pa was nowhere to be seen and the cowboys were all away. “There’s only Soupy.”

  She looked toward the sky. “We need God’s help.”

  “You’re right.” He clasped both her hands to his chest as he bowed his head. “God of all creation, You see everything, including a lost little girl. Please guide us to her. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Beatrice repeated.

  They stood with hands together for another heartbeat, strength and assurance flowing through him. And something more. A fierce protectiveness toward Dolly. He would keep her safe. He’d do the same for Beatrice, only he didn’t have the right. And she would not give it to him.

  They again entered the trees, searching for the child.

  He stopped and looked at a bent branch. “She came this way.”

  “Dolly,” they called in unison, their gazes catching as they waited for any answer, even though they didn’t expect one.

  With a jolt, he realized he had never felt so connected, so in tune with anyone before as he did to Beatrice at this moment. It was only mutual concern for a frightened child, he insisted. But it was more. It was like they could communicate without the use of words.

  Like Maisie and Big Sam did.

  The thought slammed into his mind and he jerked his gaze away. He caught a movement in the distance. “That wasn’t leaves.” He pointed in the general direction. But it was too far above the ground to be Dolly. Were the intruders lying in wait for him?

  He drew Beatrice behind him and eased forward. In twenty feet he knew what he saw and it wasn’t intruders. It was one little girl huddled in a branch about ten feet from the ground.

  Beatrice saw her, too, and would have rushed forward but he held her back. “We don’t want to frighten her and make her fall.”

  She stopped and called softly, “Dolly, are you okay?”

  Dolly shook her head no.

  Levi and Beatrice edged closer.

  “Can you get down?” he asked.

  Again she shook her head.

  He reached up toward her. “Jump and I’ll catch you.”

  She shook her head. “Smokey,” she whispered, pointing above her head.

  Smokey sat on a branch higher up. Levi couldn’t tell if the kitten was afraid to come down or content to be sitting there. “You come down first and then I’ll get the kitten down.”

  “You don’t need to be afraid,” Beatrice soothed. “You know Levi will keep you safe.”

  His insides swelled at her confidence in him. He would keep both of them safe if he had the right.

  And if he didn’t mean to keep his heart from danger.

  Ignoring the obvious that Dolly could have been hurt and that would have touched his heart deeply, he lifted his arms toward the child. “Let go and let me catch you.”

  Dolly edged forward.

  Beatrice gasped. “Please be careful,” she whispered, more for her sake, L
evi thought, than for the child’s.

  Dolly clung to the trunk of the tree.

  “You have to let go to get down.”

  Dolly’s eyes widened and she shook her head.

  “I’ll have to go get her,” Levi told Beatrice.

  She caught his arm. “Please be careful.”

  He took a minute to enjoy the concern in her eyes before he stepped on the lowest branch and pushed upward. He edged between branches and climbed to another. The branches were far enough apart to allow Dolly to climb upward, but didn’t allow much room for a grown man.

  A branch caught his hat and sent it spiraling to the ground, where Beatrice picked it up.

  He shifted and a dry branch jammed into his cheek. He felt the wet trickle of blood. He was now close enough to reach Dolly and pried her from her perch. With a whimper, she wrapped her arms around him and held on.

  The poor child trembled with emotion. He realized he did, too. If something happened to her...

  He could not let that thought go any further and he held her close with his free arm, her breath warm against his neck. It took a few seconds for his heart to beat normally again, sending strength to his limbs.

  The way she clung, he was free to use both hands in descending.

  He dropped to the ground in front of Beatrice and pried Dolly from his neck. “You have to let me go so I can get Smokey.”

  Dolly shifted into Beatrice’s arms, clinging to her neck as she’d clung to Levi’s.

  Levi cupped his hand over the little girl’s head, gave Beatrice a smile full of promise then climbed the tree again, careful to avoid the branch that had scratched him on his first ascent. He reached Smokey.

  “Come here, kitty.”

  Smokey meowed.

  Levi glanced down. Both Dolly and Beatrice looked up at him, hope and fear mingled in their expressions. He liked to think at least some of the fear was on his behalf. He managed to get his hand around the kitten and lifted her from her perch. She dug her claws into him, afraid of falling. He wasn’t sure how he’d hold her and still hang on to branches as he descended. Only one way he could think of, so he stuck the kitten inside his shirt.

  The kitten turned around twice, realized it was safe and curled into his body. Now he could climb down.

  “Where’s Smokey?” Dolly whispered as he stood in front of the pair.

  He patted his shirt at his waist. “Right here.” The lump wriggled and meowed.

  Dolly leaned from Beatrice’s arms, and Beatrice set her on the ground. Dolly held out her arms to receive the kitten.

  Levi pulled his shirttail from his waistband and lifted Smokey to her owner.

  “Thank you,” Dolly whispered, then sat down, drew her knees up and buried her face in the kitten’s fur.

  Levi smiled at Beatrice. “It’s good to see them both safe and sound.”

  “Thanks to you.” She set his hat upon his head and drew her finger down his cheek. “You’re bleeding.” She pulled a beautiful white, monogrammed hankie from her pocket and dabbed at the wound. “It must hurt.”

  “It’s nothing.” Indeed, the touch of her fingers had erased all pain.

  She caught his chin and turned his face so she could see the scratch better.

  His heart kicked into a gallop that stole away his breath.

  “I think it’s stopped bleeding.”

  He swallowed hard. “I expect I’ll live.”

  “Good to hear.”

  The husky tone of her voice brought his gaze to hers and he felt as if he had missed the last three steps of a stairway and hung suspended in air. He knew he’d hit bottom, and reality, with a thud, but for now he let himself enjoy the sensation. The sounds of the woods were distant, like something in a dream. All that mattered was the warm look in her eyes. Like sunshine poured from her. To him.

  Her gaze shifted to his mouth.

  Was she remembering the way he kissed her? Was she hoping he’d do it again?

  He dipped his gaze to her mouth then back to her eyes. She watched him. “Beatrice.” His throat was so tight the word barely escaped.

  She looked toward Dolly. His gaze went the same direction.

  There would be no kissing with the child right there.

  In fact, if he cared to remember his earlier decision to guard his heart, there would be no more kissing at all.

  “Let’s get them back home,” he said, and despite every word of warning he’d ever given himself, he reached for Beatrice’s hand. His heart rejoiced when she did not resist.

  “Come on, Dolly,” Beatrice said and the child followed them, the cat safely cradled in her arms.

  * * *

  Beatrice had watched Levi climb the tree, her heart stuck in her throat. What if he fell and injured himself? What if Dolly fell? She held Levi’s hat, somehow finding strength and courage in the warm felt between her fingers. Levi was a man of the West, used to all sorts of challenges. In fact, his mixed race uniquely prepared him to face any number of things, such as city girls stranded in the river or a kitten and a little girl stranded in a tree.

  She knew with her mind that he was safe and Dolly was in good hands, yet she couldn’t pull in a satisfying breath until he stood in front of her.

  She had placed his hat on his head, almost hugging him in the process and wanting so much to hug him because he’d saved Dolly and because he was safe. But she must remember her goals. And remember she didn’t belong here. She was only helping Maisie and then she’d move on. It was what she wanted, what she needed, but oh, how hard it was to believe that at the moment.

  With a muffled cry she had realized he bled and tenderly wiped at his wound. And if her fingers should linger longer than necessary, who was to know? Except her.

  It was getting harder and harder to remember why she had come west and what she must do.

  And yes, when their gazes had locked, she had wished for another kiss. There had been something about the gentle way he’d kissed her that had...what?

  She tried to convince herself it had done something she didn’t welcome—like shatter the walls she had erected around her heart. But the truth was, his kiss had melted the walls.

  It must not be. Neither of them wanted it. Yet when he reached for her hand, she took his willingly.

  Only, she firmly informed herself, because both of them had been frightened by Dolly’s disappearance.

  They reached the house. “I best get back to work,” he said.

  “Me, too.” Yet neither of them moved.

  “I’m relieved she’s safe and sound.” His gaze went to Dolly and then back to her.

  “Me, too.” She crumpled the soiled hankie in the palm of her hand.

  “Sorry to ruin your pretty handkerchief.”

  “It will wash.”

  “You’ll be okay now?” His gaze drifted from her eyes to her mouth to her chin and back again, as if assuring himself she hadn’t suffered because of their adventure.

  “We’re fine. You’re the one that got hurt.” She resisted an urge to touch his cheek again.

  “It’s nothing.”

  Somewhere in the far distance, a pot banged against another.

  He blinked. “Soupy’s making supper. I better get my work done.” He slowly eased away to return to whatever he’d been doing.

  And she must return to her work. She would take Dolly inside with her to make sure she didn’t wander away again, but before she did, she knelt before the child. “Honey, what happened?”

  Dolly’s eyes were big as she whispered, “Smokey ranned away and climbed the tree. I tried to get her down.”

  “Next time Smokey runs away, you tell me or Levi and we’ll help you find her. Okay?”

  “Was you scared?” Dolly said.

  Be
atrice tried to think what the child meant. Scared Dolly was lost? Or scared the kitten was stuck in the tree? She settled for an answer that would address both issues and reassure Dolly and herself. “I knew Levi would take care of us.”

  Maisie looked up from her mending as they entered the kitchen and smiled. “I heard Levi out there.”

  “Yes, Dolly followed Smokey into the trees and they both got stranded up a tree. Levi helped me get them down.”

  Maisie turned to the child. “Are you okay? Were you frightened?”

  Dolly clung to Beatrice’s side. “I thought no one would find me.” Her whisper was barely audible.

  Tears sprang to Maisie’s eyes. “You poor child. But if you got lost everyone here would search for you day and night until we found you.”

  “Levi found me.” Her whisper was stronger, more confident.

  “Levi knows how to find people,” Maisie assured Dolly.

  Dolly settled nearby, content to play with her kitten, and Beatrice turned her attention to preparing supper. Levi knows how to find people. The words echoed in her head. Could he find her? How could he when she hadn’t found herself?

  Chapter Eleven

  “I’ve asked Big Sam to send messages to Johnny and Tanner and their families to join us on Sunday. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen everyone.”

  Beatrice stared at the dishpan full of Saturday breakfast dishes without seeing them. She’d heard about the lovely, practical, courageous and hard-working wives the older Harding boys had married. If they came here, she would be exposed as the opposite. A city girl with city ways and little experience at practical things that they would take for granted.

  “I’ve asked them to bring food so don’t worry. You won’t have to cook for them all.”

  Beatrice smiled and nodded as Maisie continued, little knowing preparing a meal was but a fraction of things she felt incapable of doing. And now her ignorance was to be revealed before the whole family.