St. John, Cheryl

by Prairie Wife

  "I'm certain they would."

  Steaming plates of roast beef and mashed potatoes were delivered. Jesse and Cay picked up their forks.

  "Well, we'll just have to take him home with us, then."

  Their forks paused midway to their mouths and similar blue gazes turned to her. Jesse laid his fork on his plate, the bite uneaten.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Can we let a child spend the winter under a wagon or sleep in the back of a saloon?"

  He raised a brow and couldn't disagree. "I reckon not."

  Amy looked over at Cay. "What do you think? Do you object to inviting Scrap to come live with us?"

  Cay seemed to consider for only a few seconds. "I think everybody should have a family."

  Amy's smile made her appear less weary. "Then we'll go to the sheriff and tell him what we're thinking. Then we'll find the boy and ask him. If he wants to come with us, the sheriff will have to take whatever steps he must to make it legal. We should probably consult an attorney while we're here."

  Jesse had no objections. Amy made it sound like the only thing they could do.

  Cay set down his cup and grinned with a milk mustache. "Boy, will Sam be surprised."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jesse bought a springboard from a man selling his possessions to move back East. He made the best of the day, buying supplies and a few extras, and treating Amy and Cay to meals in the restaurant.

  In the afternoon, the sheriff sent for them, and the Shelbys entered the lawman's office. Jesse walked forward.

  "You wanted to see us?"

  "I rounded up the kid for you. I wired Denver and heard back that the foundling home there will send papers to make you taking him legal."

  Amy glanced around. "Where is he?"

  "In the rear."

  She took note of the solid door behind him. A terrible suspicion filled her mind. "Are you holding the child in a cell?"

  "Ma'am, he fought tooth and nail just getting him here—what was I to do with him?"

  "Let him out right now!"

  "He'll just run."

  Amy looked to Jesse for help.

  "Once he's turned over to us, that will be our problem, won't it?" Jesse asked.

  "It sure will."

  "Let's go talk to him." Jesse gestured for Cay to take a seat and wait for them.

  The sheriff opened the door and led them along a narrow corridor with half a dozen small, caged cells.

  "There he is. Name's Richards by the way. Toby Richards."

  The boy who'd come to their room the previous night sat on the end of a narrow cot. He glared at them, anger and resentment in his hazel eyes. Amy experienced a slice of pain in her chest. The urchin looked so alone and so young, and the inhumanity of locking up an innocent child chafed. She hoped he'd be open to their invitation.

  She moved to the bars. "Unlock the door and let us in, please."

  Apparently seeing no harm, the sheriff used a brass key to turn the lock, then ushered them in. Amy entered first and Jesse followed. The sheriff closed the cell door behind them.

  Amy turned and pointedly stared at the sheriff, and the man returned to the outer office.

  She took a step toward the young boy, deliberately keeping her distance so as not to frighten him. Beneath the belligerent scowl he wore, she recognized his apprehension. "You know who we are?"

  "Know I helped you catch your kid and then you done this to me."

  She didn't argue with him. Instead she asked, "How old are you, Toby?"

  "Old enough to know I don't want to live in no orphan asylum."

  "We don't want that for you, either. How about living with us? Think you could tolerate that?"

  The boy narrowed his gaze and scratched at his dirty neck. The action made Amy cringe inside. "What're you fixin' to pull?"

  "Nothing. You helped us, now we'd like to help you."

  "What for?"

  Jesse spoke up. "We can always use hands. We operate a stage station. Cay helps us, too. Did he tell you anything about it?"

  Toby nodded. "An' I told him he shoulda stayed long wise he had a bed and food and stuff."

  "We had a misunderstanding, the three of us," Jesse explained. "But it's all settled now. He's comin' home. We just thought—since you helped us and all—and since we could use the extra hands—that you might want to come along too."

  Amy appreciated Jesse's man-to-man approach and the way he spared the child's pride.

  The boy had a difficult time covering his surprise, but it was obvious he wasn't convinced the offer was plain and simple. "You'd pay me?"

  Jesse nodded. "Cay earns wages. You would, too."

  "Cay also works on his lessons each night," Amy added, hoping that wouldn't scare him but needing him to understand what they would expect. "We would want you to learn to read and write so you could help Jesse with the lists and the ledgers and so forth. Have you been to school?"

  "No, ma'am. But before my ma died, she was teachin' me to figure."

  His polite address touched her. "Well, that's a good start."

  Jesse stood with one hand on the iron bars. "You understand, Toby, that we'd be wantin' to make this legal? You would become part of our family. It's more of a family position we're lookin' to fill than a job."

  The boy glanced from one of them to the other. "Couldn't nobody take me away after that? Make me go back to the orphan asylum?"

  "No one could do that," Jesse assured him.

  "What if you decide you don't like me? What if your boy don't like me?"

  Jesse shrugged. "What if you don't like us?"

  After scratching his head, Toby stood up. "Guess we'll all be takin' a chance, eh?"

  "We will need your word that you won't run away," Amy told him. "It's too fearful hard on parents when they don't know where their young'uns are."

  "Can I talk to Cay first? B'fore I give my word and say yes?"

  "Surely. A man's word shouldn't be given lightly."

  Toby's proud posture conveyed that Jesse had spared his dignity.

  Jesse stepped to the front of the cell and called for Cay. The sheriff let him in.

  "Toby would like to talk to you," Jesse said.

  Jesse and Amy followed the sheriff out, leaving the two boys alone. A few minutes later, Cay called, "It's okay. You can let us out."

  The sheriff opened the cell and Toby walked out beside Cay, obviously with no intention of bolting. He was thinner and shorter than Jesse's nephew, but Amy would almost have guessed him to be older. Perhaps it was just the life he'd been living and the lack of decent food that had added years.

  "I'm set to go with the Shelbys," Toby Richards told the sheriff.

  "All right, then, son. An agent will visit you before the papers are finished. You tell the agent then if you want to stay for good."

  If the boy felt awkward leaving with them, he didn't show it. He strolled along the boardwalk beside the Shelbys, big as you please, grinning at anyone who gave them a second look or stopped to gawk.

  "Let them look," Amy said. "If a one of them had a shred of decency, they'd have taken you home with them."

  Amy paused, and her three companions turned quizzical eyes on her. She looked Toby over, then surveyed the street. Her attention lit on a painted sign on the other side.

  Jesse, Cay and Toby turned to see what had her so interested. Then Jesse placed both hands on his hips and looked down at the boy. "Come with me, lad. We have a stop to make."

  Amy smiled encouragingly. "Cay and I will pick up a clean set of clothes and Cay will run them over to you."

  Toby accompanied Jesse into a narrow building boasting hot baths.

  Amy and Cay exchanged a glance, then hurried to run their errand.

  It was nearly an hour later that Jesse and his young companion located them in the dry goods store. Amy widened her eyes and flattened her palm over her breast. "Well, if you don't beat all! There was a handsome lad under all that dirt and hair."

  Jesse
had even seen to getting Toby's hair cut. It was wet and dark and parted on the side. The boy had a handsome forehead and dark brows. His hazel eyes sparkled. Amy gave him an impulsive hug. He didn't return her embrace, but he allowed it.

  She proceeded to select shirts and dungarees, boots and union suits for him. "And a coat," she told the proprietor. "He'll need a warm coat and a pair of gloves."

  That evening, they sat in the restaurant with the red-and-white checkered curtains and tablecloths. If the grin on his face was any indication, Toby relished sharing a place at the table more than the meal. Amy stared back at a couple who were unnaturally interested in the Shelbys, and they looked away.

  After one more night at the boardinghouse, this time with Cay and Toby on the floor, they rose before daylight, packed the wagon, and set out with the three horses tied to the rear.

  The light snow that fell didn't hinder the boys who sat in the back pretending to shoot Indians.

  Amy smiled at Jesse on the seat beside her, and he took her mittened hand.

  "Our family is really growing now, Amy."

  She leaned into him. "Is my father ever going to be surprised."

  ***

  The closer they drew to home and the more Amy thought over everything that had happened, the more she worried about what had made Cay run away. She considered what she'd said that had hurt him so. She loved Cay. She hadn't meant to feed his insecurities. She'd just been so afraid. Afraid of the new baby. Afraid of hurting Jesse more. Afraid she didn't deserve to have children.

  Saying what she had so that he could hear it was quite likely proof that she couldn't be trusted with kids. All she'd ever wanted was a husband to love, a home and children. Lots of children. Amy drew her coat tightly around her and felt the chill air seep into her bones. She'd nearly ruined things with Cay. Now she'd taken on Toby. She might make more mistakes. Might make mistakes with the new baby. That thought terrified her. Could she do this? Could she really do this?

  Mr. Quenton's photographs had been unavoidably realistic. She'd seen herself, her father, Jesse, the hands all looking so natural and so genuine. Pictures pointed out details. They were memories a body could see.

  And some of those memories haunted her. Those she'd wanted hidden. Those she couldn't face.

  Still couldn't face.

  But they were there, nonetheless. And each feeling she admitted drew her closer to those she couldn't allow. Dark memories just under the surface. Huge responsibilities. And the worry of a new baby.

  A baby.

  Amy let herself really think about it, finally. Just like Rachel, she would have a tiny life to nourish and cherish. She was being entrusted with a life much more helpless and needy than Cay or Toby.

  That grave in the photograph proved how well she'd done the last time.

  The station came into view, and the boys scrambled to stand behind her and hold onto the back of her seat for balance. Jesse smiled ear to ear, and Cay shouted, "There's Sam!"

  Inside, Amy was a jumble of doubts and regrets, but she plastered a smile to her lips. All along she had

  thought she'd let things go, but just as Jesse accused time and again, all the turmoil had been right there inside her, waiting for her to open herself up and let it churn.

  She felt so different from others. Like the shell of a person she pretended to be on the outside, while underneath hid the real person, the Amy no one would love or accept if they knew her true identity. She felt alone in her guilt.

  Now that all these emotions had been stirred up, it took a lot more effort to tamp them down. Determinedly, she chose to lay all that aside and share the joy of this reunion, as well as the introductions.

  Sam met them in front of the stables, a grin on his face. He opened the double doors and stood to the side. Biscuit gave an excited yelp and appeared from the interior, tail wagging.

  "We've been waitin' for you," Sam called.

  Jesse led the team inside.

  Sam helped Amy down and hugged her soundly. "How'd you do, girl?"

  "Just fine, Daddy."

  Cay bounded down from the wagon and ran to where they stood. Biscuit sniffed at his ankles and trotted alongside. He paused to pet the animal's fur and received a lick on the chin. "I'm back, Sam!" he called, standing up and taking a step forward.

  Sam released Amy and hooked the boy around the neck, bringing him up against his coat in a gruff hug. Cay's hat fell off and Sam ruffled his hair. When Sam released him, Cay picked up Biscuit.

  Sam's attention centered on the other young person who still stood in the bed of the wagon. His curious gaze shot to Amy.

  "Come on down, Toby," she called, and gestured for him to join them. "This is my father, Sam Burnham."

  Toby approached the older man hesitantly. Biscuit barked at the new arrival and Toby glanced at the dog in Cay's arms, but spoke to Sam. "How do, sir."

  "Toby helped us find Cay," Amy told him. "We asked him to come home with us."

  "I see," Sam replied, but it was obvious he didn't.

  She would tell him all about it later.

  Jesse closed the stable doors and unloaded the crates.

  Cay set down Biscuit and picked up a stack of brown-paper-wrapped packages containing their new clothing. "Where's Toby gonna stay?"

  Amy turned toward Jesse, who paused in his work and removed his coat. They studied each other thoughtfully. They hadn't discussed sleeping arrangements. She didn't want Cay to feel they were crowding in on him, but neither did she want Toby to think he wasn't part of the family. And the only empty bedroom would be needed for the baby. Of course, the baby could always sleep in their room for some time....

  "Can he bunk with me?" Cay asked. "I'd like havin' the company."

  Relieved, Amy smiled. "I think that would be perfect."

  When Amy pushed open the kitchen door, Rachel and Mrs. Barnes were drying and stacking dishes from the noon meal. Her arms were filled with packages.

  "Amy!" Rachel ran forward. "Sam told us you'd be back today."

  Amy dropped her packages and spontaneously hugged the young woman, then found herself giving Mrs. Barnes a hug as well. Mrs. Barnes looked surprised, but she didn't let Amy's greeting fluster her.

  "Something agreed with you. You seem different."

  "I am. And it's so good to be home. I ate out at a restaurant every day we were in Fort Crowley. But by this morning I was ready to be in my own kitchen. She took off her coat and hung it. "Where's that little girl?"

  Catherine, as Jack and Rachel had named her, was sleeping soundly in a cradle beside the fireplace, a soft knitted blanket tucked around her. She lay with her head to the side, her fists at her ears and her dark lashes against her cheeks. Amy's heart tugged at the sight. She reached out and her finger grazed her tiny knuckles. "She grew while I was away."

  "She's such a good baby," Rachel told her proudly.

  Amy turned back to pick up the wrapped bundles and place them on the table. "I have gifts."

  Rachel came forward with a hand pressed to her breast. "For us?"

  Without wasting a moment, Amy untied and unwrapped, revealing her purchases. "These are for you," she said, presenting Mrs. Barnes with a pair of white gloves and a belt with a filigree buckle.

  The woman carefully dried her hands before accepting the accessories with obvious pleasure. "I have just the dress to wear these with—thank you, Amy."

  "And this is for you." She handed a stack of fabric with spools of matching thread atop to Rachel. "I'll help you, and we can make dresses for you and for Catherine."

  "This is too generous," Rachel said with tears in her eyes. She'd gotten by with very little until she and Jack had started earning wages at Shelby Station. New dresses must seem like a luxury to her.

  "I couldn't get along without either one of you," Amy said truthfully. "And I don't just mean the work you do." She knew she'd never been quite so forthright with her feelings, and Mrs. Barnes wore an expression of appreciation and pleasure.


  "I have a few things for Adele and Maggie, as well," she said. She wrapped the last items and set them aside. There was something else she needed to say. Gathering her courage, she faced the two women. "I'm going to have a baby."

  "Oh! A baby!" Rachel squealed and hugged her again.

  Mrs. Barnes gave Amy an assessing look of concern. "Is it going to be all right?"

  The woman had been around Amy long enough to know this was a change of heart. "It's going to be all right," she assured her.

  After wiping the corner of her eye on her apron, Mrs. Barnes said with all sincerity, "I'm so happy for you and Jesse."

  Amy read relief on the woman's face.

  The commotion of feet hitting the porch floor and the dog excitedly barking arrested their attention.

  Amy drew a fortifying breath. "There's someone else I need to tell you about."

  Both women eyed her curiously.

  Just then the back door opened and Cay burst through the opening, Toby on his heels. "Is there any dinner left?" Cay asked.

  The two women looked at the pair of boys in surprise. Then both smiled and hurried to bring the youngsters a meal.

  Toby ate like there was no tomorrow, and for much of his life he hadn't been certain there would be. Amy had excused his manners until now, but she knew she wouldn't be doing him any favors by not teaching him correctly. In order not to single him out, she would incorporate mealtime etiquette into their lessons. True, they would be sharing a table with the hands most of the time, but many city travelers came through. Besides, Cay and Toby would be young men someday, and they should know how to present themselves.

  That evening, she set the table for the four of them— Jesse, Cay, Toby and herself. She poured drinks, placed a napkin at each setting and served apple strudel. With patient tutoring, she taught the lads to use their napkins, eat slowly and swallow each bite instead of washing it down. Apparently amused by her calm lesson, Jesse listened with half a smile and joined them in each step.

  "When you're finished, thank the cook and ask to be excused."

  "What for?"

  Toby's puzzled frown almost made her laugh. "Simply say, 'Thank you for the fine meal. May I please be excused?'"

  Toby leaned toward Jesse and said man to man, "I din't pass no gas."