Coming From California (The Pioneer Brides 0f Rattlesnake Ridge Book 2)

by Catherine Bilson

  A muscle ticked in Watson’s jaw, but he didn’t say anything. Just nodded slightly before walking out into the bright afternoon, then stopped to speak to a man riding past on a black horse. Daisy recognized him as the rude man who’d ridden in with her on the stage on her first day. Of course, he and Watson are friends, she thought, closing the door behind him and collapsing against it in relief. They’re both rude, arrogant men who think they’re better than everyone else.

  A knock on the door had her straightening up in disbelief, rage welling up in her breast. Whirling around, she yanked the door open, ready to tear Grant Watson to shreds and tell him exactly what she thought of men who were too arrogant and too dense to take a woman’s no for an answer.

  Except it wasn’t Grant Watson.

  It was Matthew.

  Looking into his kind face, she deflated.

  “Everything all right, Miss Daisy?” His expression transformed into one of concern as he took in her stance.

  “Yes…yes. Sorry.” Glancing around, she couldn’t see Watson anywhere. “I just had an encounter with Deputy Watson.”

  “That one’s no good.” Matthew shook his head. “Is he bothering you?”

  “Not really.” She shrugged. “He wouldn’t be the first man to think possessing a handsome face means all women must be interested in them.”

  Matthew snorted with disdain.

  She smiled, stepping back to welcome him into the schoolhouse. “What can I do for you?”

  “Well, I thought you might be tired after your first day, so I brought over a pie for your supper.”

  “Oh… you’re an angel. Thank you!” She took the covered plate from his hands.

  He beamed at her. “You’re welcome.”

  “I was wondering if I might ask a favor?” she asked impulsively.

  “Of course.”

  “I’ve offered to cook dinner tomorrow night for Mr. Hollis and Mr. Rockford to thank them for their help finishing the schoolhouse, and I invited Barb Jones and her children. I’d like to make a dish my mother taught me to cook, and I have all the ingredients except for chicken. I know you use chicken when you cook, so you must know someone who keeps them. Could you maybe get someone to drop off a freshly-killed one here tomorrow?”

  Matthew grinned at her. “The missus and I keep ‘em for the eggs, and I just so happen to have an extra rooster or two, Miss Daisy. I’ll pluck it and take the giblets out for you too. What’re you cooking?”

  “Honey and ginger chicken with rice and vegetables.”

  His eyes lit up. “That sounds real good, Miss Daisy! Is it a Chinese recipe?”

  “The chicken and rice is, but they have different vegetables in China, or so my mother always said. Not that I think my friends would know any different.” She winked, and Matthew chuckled. “Would you like me to save you a little to try?”

  “I’d like that very much, Miss Daisy, thank you kindly, and if you’d be willing to share the recipe, I’d be much obliged.”

  “You’re welcome to it, although I doubt it would ever measure up to your wonderful cooking!”

  Another knock on the open door had Daisy’s eyes narrowing, but this new arrival wasn’t Deputy Watson either. Instead, it was a young man wearing the uniform of the telegraphic service. “Telegram for you, Miss Jackson,” he said, offering the slip of paper.

  “Good Lord, really?” She accepted it, wondering who on Earth would be sending her a telegram. While she had friends in San Francisco she would be exchanging letters with, none of them could have anything urgent enough to inform her about by telegram.

  MUST GO VIRGINIA CITY SUPPER WEDS PLEASE SORRY ROCKFORD STOP

  “Change of plan.” She met Matthew’s quizzical expression, aware she was grinning like a loon but unable to help it. The fool man had gone to the expense of sending her a telegram to apologize for not getting back in time for their dinner. “Could you drop the chicken by Wednesday morning instead?”

  “No trouble at all, Miss Daisy,” he said before excusing himself.

  Alone at last, Daisy locked the schoolhouse door and walked back to her own house, holding the slip of paper to her breast. Luke’s thoughtfulness warmed her. Had he guessed she’d worry if he and Jack didn’t turn up, or was he just being considerate letting her know? Either way, the fact was he’d spent money to let her know of the change in plans, and she deeply appreciated it.

  Though she couldn’t imagine what he might need in Virginia City that he couldn’t find in Reno. Weren’t they going to meet a cattle buyer for his stepfather or something?

  It was none of her business, in truth, and perhaps Luke would explain when he returned. She’d let Barb know about the change of plans tomorrow.

  The thought of not seeing Luke brought an unexpected ache to her chest. She paused in the act of setting the covered plate Matthew had brought her down on her table.

  What’s this, Daisy Jackson? she asked herself silently. You came to Rattlesnake Ridge to run a school, your lifelong dream, not moon after a cowboy with a tongue too clever for his own good.

  Even so, as she ate her lonely supper and made herself get up and stay busy, going out to plant some herb seeds she’d bought from the Handleys in a box on her windowsill, a pair of laughing blue eyes and a warm smile were never far from the forefront of her mind.

  Chapter 11

  They could have set off earlier, but Luke longed for one last glimpse of Daisy before he left. Jack had apparently felt much the same about Barb, suggesting they walk Barb and the eager children to school before collecting their horses. It was a perfect excuse for Luke to steal a few precious minutes with Daisy. As always when he saw her, he found a fool grin lingering on his face long after they parted.

  It was only fifteen miles to Reno—about three hours on their fit horses. The trip was easy, convivial, and well before noon they dismounted at the stables beside the hotel they planned to stay in.

  Which was when they ran into a major problem.

  “Where can we find a silver assayer in town?” Jack asked the stable master.

  The man shook his head. “Can’t help you, son. Mr. Wilkins up and died, oh, about ten days ago it were. Strangest thing, it was. Young and healthy man, but he didn’t open the assay office one morning and the sheriff went to check up on him, only to find he’d died in his sleep.”

  “What?” Luke and Jack both stared at him in astonishment.

  “Heart gave out, the doctor said. Not sure I believe it. Seems awful fishy to me. Young man dying like that; some folks are even talkin’ poison. Sheriff's looking into it.” The old man tapped the side of his nose meaningfully. “The city’s advertisin’ for a new assayer now, but until we get one, nearest one’s in Rattlesnake Ridge. ‘Bout fifteen miles from here.”

  “We know where the Ridge is, we just came from there!” Jack snapped, scowling.

  The stable master took a step back from the big man, hands up defensively. “Hey now, wasn't to know that, was I? What, is your man in Rattlesnake Ridge dead too? Funny, that…”

  “He’s not dead,” Luke shot a quick glance at Jack. “He’s just no friend of ours.”

  “Ah, that’s how it is.” A sage nod, and then the man said thoughtfully, “Well, Virginia City’s a bit more’n twenty miles from here, an’ I reckon that’s the next closest.”

  Catching Jack’s arm, Luke drew him aside for a brief conference.

  “I don’t like this at all,” Jack muttered.

  Luke agreed. For a young, apparently healthy man to die in his sleep like that wasn’t normal, and it left Mr. Blake in Rattlesnake Ridge as the only silver assayer to cover a very large area. “There has to be an assayer in Virginia City, maybe more than one, and if not then Silver City ain’t but a few miles further on.” Luke was thinking aloud, but this development had him concerned. “There’s six or seven mines there. If we leave now and push a bit, we can make Virginia City by sunset.”

  “Or we could travel at a sensible speed, spend a night on the
trail, and still be in Virginia City by the time the assay office opens in the morning,” Jack pointed out.

  Although he didn’t like the delay, Luke knew Jack was right. Exhausting their horses wouldn’t do anyone any good. “But we’ll have to wait for an appointment with the assayer, and it’s a good fifteen miles from Virginia City back to the Ridge. We won’t be back in time for dinner with Miss Daisy tomorrow night.”

  The scar on Jack’s chin pulled his grin askew as he laughed. “Should’ve known that’d be your first worry.”

  “Shut up.” Luke aimed a half-hearted punch and Jack dodged, laughing. “I suppose I could send her a telegram,” he muttered thoughtfully.

  “You go do that. I’ll pick up some supplies and get ready to go back out again.” He grinned. “Besides, I promised Ishmael a hat from Reno, and I keep my promises.”

  With a grateful smile at Jack, Luke returned to the stable master, who’d lost interest in their affairs and was inspecting the hooves on a mule which was doing its best to bite him.

  “Where’s the telegraph office, sir? I have a message to send, and then we’ll be off again for Virginia City. Sorry for your trouble.” He paid for a feed and water for the horses, apologizing again that they wouldn’t be spending the night as they’d planned. The old stable master just shrugged and gave him directions.

  * * *

  The first part of the journey was easy enough—level, flat land—and the horses kept up a good pace while Luke and Jack sat at ease, more than accustomed to long days in the saddle. Around mid-afternoon they entered a more mountainous section and had to slow their pace.

  There were plenty of other horses and riders on the trail running beside the Virginia-Truckee freight railroad, so they’d no fear of getting lost. One or two disreputable-looking characters eyed their good horses with interest, but the size of the two men and the rifles strapped across their saddles should discourage anyone other than a complete idiot from trying to rob them.

  Nevertheless, they found a spot well off the trail to camp when the sun set, behind a great outcropping of rocks and out of sight of anyone who might be searching for them. There was enough grass to keep the horses happy, and both were too well-trained to wander away.

  They didn’t bother with a fire. The nights weren’t getting cold yet, even up in the mountains, and both were hardy men who’d slept more nights under the stars than they could count—many while exhausted and injured in the muddy aftermath of battles during the war. A soft bed of grass beneath clear, starry skies was luxurious by comparison.

  “Thanks,” Luke said as Jack passed him a packet of oiled paper. Biscuits, ham, and cheese would be a decent enough supper and breakfast for both of them. They’d eat well tomorrow before starting back to Rattlesnake Ridge.

  Jack grunted in response, taking a bite of his own food. Washing it down with a swig of water from his canteen, he asked, “You serious about Miss Daisy?”

  Luke choked on a crumb, scowling at Jack who roared with laughter and reached out to thump him on the back. “Yes,” he said once he had his breath back.

  “Whatcha gonna do?”

  It was a simple question, but one which immediately set off a whirlwind of thought in Luke’s brain, as everything concerning Daisy seemed to. “I plan on courting her.”

  “Thought you said you hadn’t nothing to offer?” Jack’s expression wasn’t visible in the dark, but Luke could hear the accusation in his voice. “Said a respectable woman deserved a man who could give her a house of her own an’ all that?”

  “Well...” Luke took a deep breath. “I’ve got a plan for that. And it’s a plan which could benefit you too, if you’ll see your way clear to helping me.”

  He’d been thinking about his stepfather’s offer all last week, figuring how he could work things around to benefit Jack as well. After consulting with Mr. S on Sunday he was pretty sure he had it all worked out. Explaining how Mr. S had offered to make him a partner in the Shooting Star ranch now and to inherit when Mr. S died, he said, “Mr. S and Ma think I should build a house, a proper modern one, up on that hill just north of their cabin.”

  “Well, that’d be fine enough for Miss Daisy,” Jack said in agreement, “and it’s, what, four miles from the Ridge?”

  “Exactly; she could ride in to town any time she wanted.”

  “Might be a bit difficult once she starts popping out little Rockfords,” Jack teased.

  Luke laughed, glad Jack seemed to be supportive of his plan. “Let’s not count our chickens just yet. Could take a year or more to build a house. She might marry someone else before that.”

  “I see the way she looks at you, even iffen you don’t,” Jack disagreed. “She’ll wait.”

  “I hope you’re right. But this could help you too. With a share in the ranch, I get a share in the profits. I’m hiring you away from Mr. S to help me build the house so I can get it done faster, and after that you’ll have a foreman’s job, with some more pay… and a cabin of your own.”

  “A place of my own,” Jack said after a long moment of silence, a wondering note in his voice.

  “If you’re willing to wait for it, a new one. We’ll build it right after mine. And my house will be big enough for a couple families to live in, so if you happened to have a wife and children, they could live there while we build a new cabin for you. With extra bedrooms and all.”

  Jack didn’t say anything, and Luke hoped he was just stunned. “We could build it a bit closer to town, if you wanted,” he hurried on. “Another mile or so north, still on Shooting Star land, there’s that nice little creek running down to the lake, you know the one. Crystal clear water. Barb would have to give up her job at the tavern, but she could keep singing at the church…”

  “Stop talking about my daydreams, Luke,” Jack said.

  He subsided with a quiet chuckle. “What do you say?”

  “I’d be mad to say anythin’ but yes!”

  “Well, I’ve seen you fight like a madman a time or two,” Luke teased. He toppled off the fallen log he was sitting on with a laugh as Jack jumped him with a roar, giving him a great bear hug.

  “You’re the best friend a man could ever ask for, Luke Rockford,” Jack said in a voice choked with emotion once they’d regained their seats. “Don’t reckon I’ll ever be able to repay this.”

  “Ah, well.” Embarrassed, Luke shrugged, knowing Jack would see the slight movement even in the darkness. “Barb’s like a sister to me. I’d like to see her and the twins happy, and I know you love her and them. You take care of her, give her the life she deserves, and we’ll call it even. You’ll be helping me make my dreams come true too, you know. If you grumbled about a few splinters from fixing up the schoolhouse, you’ll never want to see a length of lumber again once we’ve built two houses from the ground up!”

  Jack laughed, rolling himself up in his blanket. “Reckon I won’t care about no splinters if it means me and Barb can be man and wife and I can be Isabelle and Ishmael’s father.”

  “No,” Luke agreed quietly, picking up his own blanket. “Reckon you won’t.”

  Head pillowed on his saddle, he lay staring up at the stars thinking of all the things he’d need to do to get a house fit for two families to live in. Drifting off to sleep, he dreamed of Daisy at the door of a beautiful house on a hill overlooking the lake. Greeting him as he dismounted his horse and took the front steps in a single bound to kiss her breathless, she took his hand and placed it on her stomach, dark eyes shining like stars.

  “Our own little family, Luke,” she said softly. “Our own baby.”

  * * *

  “What baby?”

  He woke to Jack shaking him awake, laughing that he’d been talking in his sleep. The sun wasn’t yet showing behind the mountains, but the sky was a much lighter shade of gray, telling him the day was well underway.

  They had less than ten miles to go to reach Virginia City and made it handily, in time to eat breakfast and get in line outside the assay offi
ce. The office wasn’t inside the bank as it was in Rattlesnake Ridge, Luke noted.

  A whinny made them glance around and they saw a familiar black stallion prancing down the street, an even more surprisingly familiar man on its back.

  “What in the world is he doing here?” Luke whispered to Jack as he tried to place who the horse belonged to. It niggled at him like a worm on a hook, and all he knew was that the animal didn’t belong to the man riding him or the town’s stables. Both of them pulled their hats lower to shade their faces as Mr. Blake, the very assayer from Rattlesnake Ridge who they were trying to avoid, rode by.

  “No idea.” Blake had ridden out of an alley next to the assay office. Jack jerked his head at Luke, who stepped out of the line and went around the corner to look.

  There was a house and a small stable behind the assay office before the alley ended. Luke stood lost in thought for a moment before returning to join Jack and sharing in a whisper what he’d found.

  “Reckon it’s the assayer’s house and stable.”

  “Do you think Blake stayed here overnight?” Jack hissed back.

  “I don’t know, but I do know I don’t like it.”

  There were only two men in line ahead of them, so within the hour they were meeting the assayer, a Mr. Murray. There was a bottle of whiskey on the man’s desk, Luke noted, eyebrows rising as he read the label. Expensive whiskey.

  “A gift from a guest,” Murray said as he saw the direction of Luke’s gaze, picking up the bottle to prudently deposit it on a shelf behind his desk. “Now, how can I help you gentlemen?”

  “I don’t suppose the guest was Mr. Blake, the assayer from Rattlesnake Ridge?” Luke blurted out.

  The assayer looked startled. “Yes, it was.”

  “Are you friendly with Mr. Blake?” Luke was ready to walk out at the wrong answer; he only relaxed marginally when Murray shook his head.