Sadie patted her shoulder. “I’m sure that won’t happen. Stagecoaches make it through all the time.”
“I’m not the luckiest of people,” the woman said.
“God will go with you.” With one last smile and pat, Sadie moved on to the next table.
The stagecoach left immediately after the noon meal. Sadie plopped into the nearest chair and put her feet up. The dishes could wait a bit. “It’s nice to see people, but it exhausts me.”
“You work too hard,” Luke said, sitting down and taking her feet in his lap. “I’m doing this strictly as a doctor.” He flashed a grin and removed her boots.
As he massaged the sore pads of her feet, knowing right where to apply pressure, she bit her lip to keep from moaning. How could he serve her so and expect her not to look on him as the handsome man he was? Frank had never rubbed her feet, not once. This man, a virtual stranger, didn’t think twice about relieving her pain. Thank goodness he left her stocking in place.
“There.” He set her feet on the floor. “Better?”
She nodded, then yanked her boots back on. Without meeting his gaze, she darted from the room and outside, not stopping until she got to the creek that ran along one side of her property. There, she knelt in the damp soil and splashed cool water on her hot face. Mercy, the things that man did to her without thinking.
“My apologies, Sadie.” He spoke from behind her.
She tried to wave off his apology, but her hand fell feebly to her side. “I’m a widow and shouldn’t be acting like a silly schoolgirl.” Bracing her hands on her thighs, she pushed to her feet. “I’m tired is all.” Not to mention worried about Indian attacks and Mark’s return.
“It won’t happen again.”
Oh, but she wanted it to! She enjoyed being handled like a delicate treasure. She forced her gaze to meet his. “What are your plans for the rest of the afternoon?”
“Fishing.” He glanced at the water. “This is a beautiful spot, and I saw a couple of poles in the barn. Once I dig for worms, we’ll be eating fish for supper.”
“What a great idea.” She matched his smile. “I’ll fetch Ruth and Josiah and we’ll have a picnic right here.” She shook the dirt from her hem and headed back to the house, Luke falling into step beside her.
“Is it wise to leave the station?”
“If someone comes, they’ll ring the bell.” Nothing would stop her from having an afternoon of fun.
She headed for the house while Luke made a beeline for the barn. With a few hard-boiled eggs, cheese, and the last of the baked bread in a basket, Sadie grabbed a jar of fresh well water and called for the children.
“You two will need to help Dr. Stetson dig for bait,” she said. “Then, as a reward, you can go downstream and splash in the shallow water.”
“Yippee!” Hand-in-hand, they raced for the creek.
Sadie laughed and waited for Luke. In companionable silence, they made the short walk to the water’s edge. Sadie spread an old quilt on the ground and got comfortable where she could keep an eye on her children. Luke moved a ways upstream and flicked his line across the water.
The day couldn’t be more perfect. Leaning back on her hands, Sadie lifted her face to the sun’s rays finding their way through the foliage overhead. She needed to find time to relax more often.
Ruth squealed, forcing Sadie to peel one eye open. Not seeing anything more alarming than an older brother splashing his sister, she closed her eyes again and allowed herself the luxury of dreaming.
As a child, she’d often spent time playing the “what if” game. She indulged herself now. What if…Luke decided to stay and asked her to be his wife? What if…he wanted a life on the prairie with a widow and her two children? What if…she were to get a bit of bravado and propose marriage herself? She giggled. She’d dismissed those very thoughts a couple of days ago, but the lure remained. What wasn’t proper in the city was often overlooked on the prairie.
She lay on her back and stared through the branches. Luke had been there three days, and the changes to the station were noticeable to stagecoach passengers and Pony Express riders alike. Two more days and Mark would return. Just like that, a cloud skittered across the sun, dimming the day in the same way her last thought shadowed her joy. With the younger man’s return, the Stetsons would leave.
After a dip in the creek to cool off, Luke leaned over Sadie’s sleeping form and let water drip from his hair onto her face. He laughed as she swiped at the droplets. Then he shook his head vigorously.
“Ah!” She lunged to her feet. “That’s cold.”
He lifted a stringer full of fish. “Supper.”
“You don’t deserve supper after that naughty trick.” She wiped her face with her sleeve. “But I’ve sandwiches for a picnic. We’ll save the fish.” She grinned up at him. “I can’t let my children go hungry.”
“What about your man?” He reached out and twirled a curl around his finger. He knew he was playing with fire, but could stop himself no more than a starving man could stop from approaching a boiling pot of stew. “Would you let your man go hungry?”
Her cheeks grew pink, giving him courage. Would her lips taste as delicious as they looked? He lowered his head.
Ruth’s shrill shrieks pulled him back to logic. He straightened. “I’ll help you get the food.” Shaking his head at his close call, he draped the fish stringer around a stick in the water. What was he doing? Sadie wasn’t the type of woman he could toy with. She would want commitment. Not something he could give until he figured out his own plans for the future.
He’d always thought he would follow in his father’s footsteps. He was a good doctor. But the life Sadie offered here, the beauty and simplicity…it had a strong lure. Still, the life of the Pony Express was limited. What would she do after it was replaced by the railroad? What would he do if he chose to stay? What would she do if she chose to leave?
Too many unanswered questions to be decided on by the time his brother returned. He headed back to the quilt where Sadie and the children were settling down to eat.
“How do you like the life of a farmer?” he asked, sitting cross-legged.
She chuckled. “I’m not much of a farmer. A milk cow, a couple of pigs, a few chickens. Most of our supplies come from trade or I order from the city. I keep the garden small enough to manage on my own.”
“How close is the next station?”
“Fifteen miles.”
Not one closer than where he came from, then. “Have you ever lived in the city, Sadie?”
“Yes.” Her dark eyes settled on him. “Before Frank brought us here. My father owned the mercantile. Ma and I helped. This”—she waved her hand—“is…was Frank’s dream, not mine.”
Hope sprang in his heart. Perhaps it wouldn’t be difficult to persuade her to go. While he couldn’t as yet say he was in love with Sadie Mathewson, he did know he didn’t want the time getting to know her to end.
“Have you thought about what you’ll do when the railroad stops the riders from being a necessity?”
She nodded. “A lot of ideas have flickered through my mind, but I’m not decided on one. I’ll see what presents itself when the time comes.”
“I want to stay here,” Josiah said, having glanced from one to the other during the conversation. “Life in the city is too noisy. I want the fresh air of the country. Where else can we run free and play in the creek and fish? Nah, you can have the city. I’m staying right here.”
“Son, you’ll go where I go.” Sadie patted his leg. “We’re a family, and that is not a decision we need to make at this time. Although I have thought of opening a boardinghouse at one of the places along the railroad. That would give me a good income, and my experience here would be an asset.”
That was an idea. Luke could start over somewhere new, too. Open his own practice out from under his father’s critical eye. He studied Sadie’s beautiful profile. Maybe his future wasn’t as decided as it had been last week.
The clanging of the bell outside the station got them to their feet. “I’ll go,” Luke said to Sadie. “You and the children can follow when you’re ready.”
He grabbed the string of fish and set off at a fast pace toward the house. A stagecoach sat out front.
The driver was slumped in his seat. A man in a dark suit yanked the bell rope.
“Indians. Driver is shot,” he said, letting go of the rope. “Got a dead man inside who wouldn’t give up his gold watch.”
Luke dropped the fish and darted for the injured man. “Any more?”
“A woman”—his lip curled—“took a bullet graze to the upper arm, but she seems to be fine.”
“Help me get them inside. I’m a doctor.”
By the time the injured were inside the station, the driver prone on two tables pushed together, Sadie and the children had arrived. Her eyebrows rose at the soiled dove with the dirty bandanna around her arm, but rather than shun the woman, she called her to action in the kitchen.
“Come along. The doctor will need hot water and bandages. After we fetch them, I’ll look at your arm.” Sadie glanced at Luke.
“That’s exactly what I need. Thank you.” He bent back over the driver and cut away his shirt.
One bullet had caught the man high in the shoulder, the other in the side. Neither was life threatening, although he had lost an alarming amount of blood. “Josiah, find me a strip of leather for this man to bite on.”
“Yes, sir!” The boy raced outside, returning seconds later with a piece of harness. “What else can I do?”
“Help hold him down. This is going to hurt. You…” Luke motioned for the man in the suit to come next to them. “You need to help, too. The poor man is going to thrash until he passes out.”
Luke stuck a small pair of forceps into the shoulder wound and fished for the bullet. The man’s screams filled the room.
“Here.” The woman helping Sadie handed Luke a flask. “Fine whiskey. It will help.”
“Dribble it into his mouth. It’s all hands on deck here.”
Luke worked feverishly to repair the driver the best he could. Once the man was stitched up, the prostitute bandaged, and the suited man finishing off the whiskey, Luke plopped, exhausted, next to Sadie. He rested his arms on the counter behind him. “It looks as if I’ll be here more than a couple of days. That man will need close watch for nigh on to a week.” He turned his head toward her and grinned.
Chapter Five
Sadie straightened from where she bent over the tub of laundry and, placing her hands on the small of her back, stretched the kinks out. Her gaze landed on the horizon where a cloud of dust rose in the air. Grabbing the rifle next to her, she headed for the house as Mark Stetson rode to a stop.
“How are you feeling?” She held the reins as he dismounted. “Is your breathing okay?”
“Never better.” He handed the mochila to his replacement. “Where’s Luke?”
She explained about the injured stagecoach driver. “What’s the news up the line?”
“That band of renegade Indians is creating havoc. I had to outrun them at one point.” His eyes widened. “Don’t tell my brother.”
“Oh, Mark, be careful.” She nodded toward the house. “Come eat and rest. Are they sending a replacement for you, or are you planning on heading out again?”
“They’re short on riders right now. I don’t have a choice.”
Luke would not be happy. Sadie showed Mark to a table and hurried to the kitchen to fix him something to eat. While she cooked, she prayed. For the boy’s safety, for forgiveness over feeling a sense of relief that Luke would be around a while longer, and for the healing of the man battling infection upstairs.
“Can I help? I used to be a fair hand in the kitchen.” Greta, the saloon girl, now wearing one of Sadie’s more modest gowns, entered the kitchen.
“I’d be pleased. Could you knead that dough on the counter?” Sadie cut her a sideways glance. Without the face paint, the girl didn’t look much older than sixteen and was quite pretty. Given half a chance at a better life, she’d be snatched up as someone’s wife before she could bat her long eyelashes.
“Don’t you get lonely way out here?” Greta asked. “There ain’t another soul for miles and miles.”
Sadie laughed. “I was lonely, but now I’ve plenty of company. I guess you’re ready for the stagecoach to come tomorrow so you can head to wherever it is you’re headed.” She ladled soup into a bowl.
“Not really. It’s just that I’ve got nowhere to go other than California.”
“Do you like the life you’re headed to?”
Tears shone in Greta’s eyes. “No, but there isn’t much future for an orphan with not a penny to her name.”
“Stay here.” Sadie wasn’t usually the impulsive type, but the girl’s tears tore at her heart. “I could use the help, and men come through here all the time. Oh!” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “I didn’t mean for you to resume your profession, though.” Her face heated. “Only that you might find a husband.”
Greta giggled. “I’d like that, Mrs. Mathewson, iffen you don’t mind me being around your children.”
“Everyone deserves a second chance.” Sadie patted the girl’s shoulder on her way to the dining room.
Mr. Brooks, his dark suit now showing more wrinkles than smooth spots, rummaged under the counter. “How am I supposed to pass the time without more whiskey?”
“This is a nondrinking establishment, sir.” Sadie set the soup in front of Mark. “Let me pour you a cup of coffee.”
“That won’t drown the boredom threatening to smother me. Where’s the loose girl? I can while away the time with her.”
Sadie stiffened. “That child is no longer for sale and is now under my care. You will treat her with respect.”
“What’s going on here?” Luke descended the stairs, a bowl of used bandages in his hand. “You bothering our hostess, Mr. Brooks?”
“No.” The man scowled and fell into a chair, propped his feet on a table, and crossed his ankles. “Seems our little Greta has changed her ways.”
Luke met Sadie’s gaze and shrugged, then grinned at Mark. “Nice to see you in one piece.”
“Don’t yell, but I’m leaving on the next run.”
Luke frowned. “Why do you assume I’ll yell? You’re a man now, or close enough. You can make your own decisions.”
Sadie smiled on her way to the kitchen, not envying Luke the job of explaining to his father why Mark didn’t return home. She glanced out the window to where Josiah fetched water from the well. She might very well be in the same boat in a year or two. Already her boy showed signs of wanting to make his own way. She could only pray he would choose a safer path than the one Mark had chosen.
“I heard what Mr. Brooks said.” Greta bowed her head. “Maybe I can’t change. Maybe a soiled dove is all I’m ever going to be.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. He’ll be leaving tomorrow and no one needs to know your past until you’re ready to tell them.” Sadie opened the back door. “Ruth! Did you gather the eggs yet?”
“Coming, Ma.” Her daughter raced toward her, a woven basket hanging from her arm. “One of the chickens was bad.” She held out her hand, revealing three long scratches. “I’m going to go see the doc.” She plunked the basket on the counter and dashed away.
Greta grinned. “You ain’t the only Mathewson lady who likes to spend time with the handsome doctor.”
Sadie’s cheeks heated. “I suppose not.”
“I wish you wouldn’t,” Luke said, sitting across from his brother. “But I respect your decision.” He pulled a vial of eucalyptus from his bag. “Take this with you in case your asthma acts up. It’s better than nothing.”
“I need a doctor.” Ruth swayed dramatically at his side. “I’ve been attacked by a chicken.”
“You have?” Luke bit back a grin. “Let me take a look.”
“Am I going to die, Doc?”
Mark
shook his head. “That girl belongs on the stage.”
Luke fought to remain serious. “I’ll get this cleaned right up, miss. You sit there and put your feet up. You should rest.”
“Hear that, Ma? I gotta rest.” She flounced onto a chair.
“For heaven’s sake.” Sadie shook her head, handing Luke a bowl of hot water. “Anything to get out of work.”
“I’m injured.”
Sadie licked her finger and ran it down the red marks on her daughter’s hand. “I’ve never known berry juice to be so dangerous.”
Luke laughed. “Now, ma’am, we need to show compassion here.” He took Ruth’s hand in his and gently washed away the painted stripes. “The first thing a good nurse needs is empathy for the patient.”
Ruth’s gaze flicked from him to her mother. “You saw through my ruse?”
“In a heartbeat.” Sadie ruffled her hair. “But you can sit and rest with Mark until he leaves.”
“Thank you!” She bolted to her feet and fetched a checkerboard. “We need a rematch.”
With one patient taken care of, Luke glanced around the room. Where was Mr. Brooks?
A stifled cry from the kitchen had him lunging to his feet. He barged into the room to see Greta pinned against the counter, the lecherous fool’s hands flickering around her skirt.
Luke grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him to the ground. “Never lay a hand on a woman in this house again.”
“Who’s going to stop me?” Mr. Brooks got to his feet. “You? You won’t want to fight me and take the chance of injuring them lily-white hands.”
Luke doubled up his fist and landed a hard right against the man’s jaw. “I think I can work well enough with swollen knuckles.”
“You just want the women to yourself.” Mr. Brooks made a move toward him.
The click of a gun being cocked halted him. Sadie stood in the doorway, a pistol in her hand. “You, sir, will sleep on the porch tonight. Go.”
“Y’all ain’t heard the last of me.” He shoved past Luke.
“You’ve got more grit than sand,” Luke said, grinning at Sadie. He supposed a woman living alone on the prairie needed more than her fair share.
The Pony Express Romance Collection Page 22
