by Nan O'Berry
“Maxwell Barringer, don’t you dare bust a single wall!”
He could feel the heat pool in his ears as Red snickered. “Yes, ma’am.” He shot Red a furious glare and the cowboy looked away. “Watch yourself.”
“Yep,” Red grunted, but kept his eyes adverted.
With great care, the two men wove their way through the living room and up the stairway to the four bedrooms upstairs. They paused at the landing to shift the trunk in their grasps before moving forward.
“Women sure do carry lots of things,” Red remarked.
Max could only nod. “Room in the middle,” he said with a nod of his head toward the door on their left.
Once the door was opened, they turned parallel to the opening and Max backed into the room.
“Where do you want to put it?”
“Foot of the bed,” Max grunted.
As gently as possible, the two set the trunk in place then backed away.
“How long she gonna stay?” Red asked.
Max shrugged his shoulders. “Not sure. At least a couple of weeks.”
Leading the way, Max moved from the room. “That’s sure gonna put a hitch in your giddy-up.”
Ignoring the comment, Max moved down the hallway. “Let’s get the supplies into the kitchen.”
The two made their way back down the stairs.
At the foot, he could see his mother pouring tea. “I’ll be right with you.” Dusting his hands against the side of his trousers, Max moved toward the large table in the dining room off the main living area. The huge oak table his father had handmade could easily sit six comfortably. He paused at the end and grasped the back of the chair. How small Caledonia appeared. He waited while his mother took her seat.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” Callie spoke softly.
Her words were soft and soothing against his ears.
“You are very welcome, my dear,” his mother murmured. “Sugar?”
She picked up the bowl filled with the cubes and held it out to her guest.
Callie scooped two out and placed them in her cup. Under his gaze, she picked up the silver spoon and stirred the contents. Her arms were so small; he wondered how she had the strength to churn butter. Watching her so intently, he didn’t see his mother gaze in his direction.
“Oh, are you joining us, Max?”
Her question jolted him back to reality. He shook his head. “No, ma’am. I just came over to let you know the trunk is at the foot of the bed.” He used his head to jerk toward the open doorway. “We’re going to bring in the other supplies to the kitchen.”
“Oh, good.”
He caught Callie’s shy gaze and their eyes locked. Max didn’t want to turn away.
“Thank you again, Max.”
His mother’s voice broke into his stupor. His gaze never strayed, but his mouth lifted to an easy grin. His next words were spoken for his mother’s benefit, but he hoped Callie would take them to heart as well, “No problem. Enjoy your tea. I will see you at supper, Mother.”
She nodded.
Callie blushed as she picked up her cup in both hands and lifted it to her lips.
He watched mesmerized.
“Max.”
He blinked.
“The supplies,” his mother prompted.
“Oh…” He grinned. “Yes.”
One last long look and he hurried from the room.
* * *
Bethany watched her son move through the door. An audible sigh from the young lady seated across from her reached her ears. Turning, she began, “So, you came out to be married.”
Caledonia glanced over to her. A slight blush reached her cheeks.
“Yes, that is the plan.”
Bethany nodded.
“If I may ask, how did you meet?”
“Through letters. I saw his ad in the newspaper and we began to write. His words were so wonderful. The descriptions of the hills, the land, even some of the people he’d meet. I felt as if I’d known him all my life. Then, when he asked for my hand in marriage, it seemed so natural.”
Callie shifted her gaze to the cup. Under Bethany’s scrutiny, she turned the cup around and moved her thumbs over the Blue Willow design. She waited and finally, the young woman looked up.
“You-you must think me a bit foolish.” Her voice lowered. “I mean to come all the way out here, not knowing the man who I am to marry except for his letters.”
A motherly smile crept into Bethany’s features. “Oh, I wouldn’t say you were foolish. I’d think your actions are very brave.”
Her cheeks turned the color of a bright red apple. “It feels a bit silly now,” she admitted. “I mean he wasn’t even able to meet me. I hope he hasn’t gotten cold feet.” She glanced over the table her eyes filled with concern. “He is out of town on business…or so they said.”
“Who said?”
She swallowed. “Well, Max.”
“Max.” Bethany’s brows rose in surprise. She sat back and took in the information before speaking once again, “Did he know you were coming?”
Callie lifted her shoulder in a slight shrug. “The train from St. Joseph got held up due to part of the track being washed away in a storm. We spent a week waiting. I can only assume that he thought I wasn’t coming. So he went away on business. I hope he won’t be too mad when he finds that I have arrived.”
“Well, it can be explained once you two get together.” Bethany leaned forward and patted her hand. “Let’s not make mountains out of mole hills.”
Callie seemed to relax. She blinked then raised her hand to cover a deep yawn.
“There, there,” Bethany crooned. “Here I am asking questions and you are dead on your feet. Let me show you to your room.” She stood as did Callie.
“I apologize. I’m just so tired.”
“Of course you are. A train through the prairie then a stage coach ride. You have a right to be tired.” Bethany rounded the table and placed an arm around her young protégé. “Once you get upstairs, you can lie down and nap. I’ll wake you in time for the evening meal.”
“Are you sure? I should be helping you.”
Bethany held up her hand, silencing her. “I won’t hear of it. You follow me.” She led the young woman up the stairs and to the bedroom next to hers. Pushing open the door, she smiled.“Here are your things. Make yourself at home.”
She watched as Caledonia moved past her and brushed her fingers across the quilt that covered the double bed.
“What a beautiful quilt.”
“Do you sew?”
Caledonia nodded. “I do, but I haven’t made a quilt in years.”
“Well, we’ll have to remedy that.”
Caledonia looked back and smiled. “I’d like that Mrs. Barringer.”
“It’s Bethany, dear.” She turned back toward the door only to pause. “Oh, I forgot to ask, who is your intended?”
“Seth. Seth Nolan.”
Bethany could feel her smile become more plastered. “Did you say Seth Nolan?”
Caledonia yawned and nodded. “His letters were so sweet. I’ll show them to you one day soon.”
“Yes, tomorrow,” Bethany murmured and began to close the door. “You rest.”
The door clicked closed and her brow furrowed. “Seth Nolan,” she whispered as her feet hit the stairway.
All the way down, she pondered over the words from Callie and what she knew as fact. A feeling of dread washed over her as she came to a stop on the first step. “Seth Nolan.”
Her eyes focused on the kitchen. Pressing her lips together, her gaze narrowed and she stepped off the stairway.
Crossing her living room, she pushed her sleeves up to the elbows as if preparing for battle. “I think Maxwell and I need to have a little talk.”
Chapter 5
Max dumped the sack of flour into the bin and sighed. Already, he was getting in deeper than he had planned. Every time he glimpsed that girl, his insides all went funny. “Best thing that could
happen would be for me to be killed by lightning.”
“What’s that?”
Red’s voice made him jump. Max turned and found the cowboy standing at the pantry door. He groaned. “I said, we could use a little rain, but not the lightning.”
“Yeah.” Red rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand. “A might bit humid out there.”
Coming out of the small room off of the kitchen, Max closed the door. His eyes spied a box of spices and other small items his mother requested. Still, feeling the need to get his mind in order, he seized on the opportunity. “I’m going to put these things up for Mom. You start getting the feed out of the back and I’ll join you.”
“Sure thing.” Red nodded.
To Max’s relief, he sauntered out the door. Heaving a sigh of relief, he moved to the box and began setting the items out on the cutting block. “Got to watch what I’m doing, or the guys are going to think I’m plumb loco,” he grumbled.
Still thinking, he didn’t hear the soft footsteps of his mother until she spoke.
“Max, there you are.”
He jumped and put a hand to his chest. “Ma, you scared me to death.”
She gave him a cautionary glare. “Did I? Hmm, perhaps I have a good reason.”
Max swallowed. He had a feeling things were going to get worse. “What’s the problem?”
“Problem? Perhaps you could tell me.”
Immediately, Max felt ten years old again. “Ma’am?”
His mother turned, her face as stern as he had ever seen it. She seemed ready for battle.
He gulped as she crossed to stand in front of him, and then draw her arms over her chest. He waited, but not for long.
“Did you realize who Miss Caledonia came to marry?”
“I-I…” he paused. The words didn’t want to come.
“Maxwell.”
The low warning tone had him shuffling in his boots. “Momma,” he began and stopped.
There were no words for what he was about to say. Sorry wouldn’t cut it. He knew it. His mother would know it. The best thing for him to do would be to come clean.“Momma, it’s a bit complicated.”
“Oh, Maxwell.” The disappointment in her voice caused him to wither. “What have you done, son?”
He lifted his hands. “I was only trying to help. When Lou and Teddy spoke to me—” He stopped as she held up her hand.
“I think this will be better with a cup of coffee. You, young man, sit down right over there and get your story straight.” His mother moved to the kitchen stove.
Max shuffled his feet across the floor to the kitchen table. Pulling out a handmade chair, he sat down and stared at the grains of wood. If only that table could talk, he mused. He ran his hand along the broad pine boards. Before the ranch was profitable, his father had handcrafted the table for the little cabin that once stood on this spot. His fingers moved over a set of initials carved into the wood.
The pocketknife he had been given for Christmas had been the culprit. Shut in during a January snowstorm, he’d ‘practiced’ his art. At first, his father had been furious. The knife was confiscated and extra chores added. Yet, his father hadn’t sanded them away. It served as a constant reminder of what was expected of a Barringer.
“I’ve failed again,” he murmured.
“Let’s not go that far, just yet.”
He glanced up as his mother handed him a mug.
“I suggest you start at the beginning.”
“The beginning?”
She gave a nod.
“Well, it all began when I saw Lou, Teddy and D.W. go into the saloon without Seth.” He explained how the men had written the letters and saved the money to bring Caledonia to Rattlesnake Ridge without Seth’s knowledge. “But the kink in their lasso was that Seth went off on business and fell in love.”
“Lord, have mercy!” his mother exclaimed. “So, what now?”
Max took a deep breath. “The idea is for me to keep her on the ranch while they raise the money to send her back to Virginia.”
He watched his mother shake her head from side to side; as she tried to wrap her mind around all the information he’d laid before her. “You know,” she began, “those three haven’t been able to hold on to a nickel if their life depended on it.”
“They got her here.”
“But, how long did that take?” His mother questioned.
Max voice dropped. “Six months.” He glanced over. “But you know Lou and the boys.”
Bethany stared at him. “Yes, it could have been even longer.”
Both stared at the cups of coffee. “You plan on keeping her here for six months or maybe even year and come up with a different story every time she asks about Seth?”
“No ma’am.”
“Max. Max. Max.” She sighed heavily. “Well, you’re a grown man.” He watched as she got to her feet. “You are going to have to figure this out for yourself.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“But hear me out.” She turned to face him. Her finger pointed to the upstairs bedroom where he knew Callie was staying. “That young lady has stored up a lot of hopes and dreams. Her heart will be broken. She’s going to feel betrayed, lied too, and made fun of. I don’t think she will be one bit happy with any of you.” She paused for a breath. “And furthermore, Seth and his new bride will be furious. You may have just lost your best friend.”
Listening to her words, Max heart sank.
“I suggest you come up with a plausible explanation for your actions. I think you’re going to need it.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” He stared at the table as his mother left the room.
* * *
She wasn’t sure how long she’d slept. When Callie opened her eyes a cool breeze and long shadows danced across the floor to greet her. Yawning, she turned and rose from the bed only to stop and gaze out the window at the ranch yard below. Six sleek horses dozed in the corral while just beyond the open barn doors, hands moved to fill a line of wooden buckets up with grain making ready to settle the animals down for the night.
“Apparently, it’s later than I think. I wish there were a clock on the wall.”
A knock on the door drew her attention. “Yes?”
“Miss Caledonia.” A young woman’s voice echoed through the wood. “Momma says supper will be ready in just a few minutes, if you’d like to come down.”
“Yes, thank you. I’ll be down as soon as I freshen up.”
She listened as the boot steps faded. Moving to the trunk, she knelt down and flipped the two brass locks on the front. The lid squeaked as she lifted it. Pushing a few things away, she came across a deep emerald green skirt and a white lace blouse. “Yes, perfect. It will be a delight to have something fresh to wear.”
Tossing them on the bed, she walked over to the wash stand and was delighted to find the pitcher half filled with water. She lifted the container and poured a generous amount into the bowl. On the rack, a washcloth sat waiting.
“A quick wash up won’t take long.”
Her fingers worked the buttons on her waist front free. In a few minutes, she had skimmed down to her camisole and petticoats. She plunged the cloth into the bowl and filled it full of lather from the cake of soap. As she brought the rag over her arms, she closed her eyes savoring the feel of skin free from the dust of the trail.
When she finished, she placed the rag over the rack and turned to her clothes. Fully dressed, she paused at the mirror to take a brush to her hair. With her braid secure to the nape of her neck, she opened the door and headed downstairs. She was about to step on the second landing when the sound of voices drifted up to her. Callie paused.
“You’ve brought home a lot of abandoned things, but this one takes the cake.”
A male voice deeper than Max reached her ears.
Oh, yes, Max said he had a brother.
She leaned further hoping to hear more.
A female voice giggled, then spoke. “You remember that scrawny horse Mr. M
atheson pawned off on you?”
The male voice snorted. “Told him it was broke to ride, didn’t he, Max?”
The girl chuckled again. “How long did it take your leg to heal?”
“Are you two finished?”
Max voice sounded strong and steady. It made her smile.
“As long as Miss McBride is our guest….” She recognized Mrs. Barringer’s voice.
“You two will refrain from this sort of teasing.”
“Ah, Momma,” the girl whined.
“Melinda.” The tone of her voice was enough to silence her. “Max is correct. Teasing will not be tolerated in this house.”
A small silence followed.
“So, where is this mysterious guest?”
That was her cue. Straightening her shoulders, Callie continued down the stairs.
“I told her we were eating,” the girl answered.
Her foot pressed on the last step which gave a slight squeak.
All eyes at the table turned and focused on her.
Her smile trembled. “Sorry, I am late.” With her eyes focused on the floor, she crossed the living room to the table.
Chairs scraped the floor as Max and his brother snapped to their feet.
“You are not late at all,” Max replied and stepped to the chair on the right. “Please sit beside Melinda. I’m sure she’ll mind her manners.”
Callie glanced at the young girl with the bright smile. “I’m sure she will, thank you.”
She moved to the chair. Glancing back at Max, she caught his smile and her heart beat a little bit faster. She took her seat and Max moved back to his chair at the end of the table.
Callie pulled the napkin into her lap. “My, this all looks so good.”
“I’m sure it’s been a while since you’ve had a good meal,” Bethany murmured.
Caledonia nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’m very grateful for your hospitality.”
Melinda handed her a platter of roast beef. “Momma’s best dish,” she whispered.
Caledonia took a good slice and passed it to Max. Soon the rest of the bowls followed and her plate was quickly filled.
“I guess I should do the introductions,” Max began. “You have met my mother and you have already met my sister.”
