by Linda Ford
He tipped his head toward Dusty and raised his eyebrows. She knew he had the same concern she did as to the man’s mental condition.
With a sound of half growl, half exasperation, Dusty opened the door, letting cold and snow race across the room.
Dutch looked up from his book. “What are you doing? Close the door before we freeze.”
Dusty ignored the order and bellowed, “Weasel, where are ya?”
Louise and Nate stared at the man, then turned to Dutch for explanation.
“That’s his dog,” Dutch said, then spoke again to Dusty. “Do you think the dog isn’t smart enough to find shelter? He won’t come running to you in this weather if he has a lick of sense.”
Dusty bellowed again, “Weasel, get in here.” Then he slammed the door. “Confounded dog. Who needs him anyway?” He threw his bedding on the floor and lay down, pulling the covers to his nose. “I’m going to sleep.” Within seconds he was snoring.
The others looked about in confusion. The room was too small to provide the women any privacy and no one suggested the men should go out into the storm.
Nate made the first move. “I’ll turn the lamp down low and we’ll turn our backs so you women can prepare for bed.”
There didn’t seem to be any other option. Louise had never shed a few layers and crawled between the covers so fast in her life.
“We’re in bed,” Louise said when both Missy and Rowena had finished their preparations.
Missy giggled, the sound muted by the blanket she pulled to her face. “That was mighty fast.”
“I didn’t trust someone not to look,” Rowena answered.
“If I ever run a stagecoach business,” Louise said with utmost conviction, though it wasn’t something she’d ever consider doing, “I will provide separate sleeping quarters for the ladies, and some better-quality blankets.”
“Amen to that,” Rowena said.
Nate spread his blanket close to Louise. “I’ll sleep nearest the women in case my wife needs me,” he said to the whole group, but looked at Louise as he spoke.
She thanked him with a grateful smile. With Nate so close, Dusty would not be able to bother Missy, who crowded to her side.
“Time for you three to turn your backs,” Nate ordered, and turned out the lamp to ensure further privacy. The thud of boots and rustle of covers signaled the men retiring.
In the tiny room, the women were crowded into one corner and the men were equally crowded and but a few feet away. But Louise felt safe and warm knowing Nate was within reach. Even the whine and wail of the wind and the rattle of the snow against the walls did not keep her awake.
It felt like the middle of the night when a noise startled her from her sleep.
She made out the dark shape of a man bent over the table and then the lamp glowed yellow and harsh in the darkness. Dusty. What was he doing?
She reached out and found Nate’s blankets. He took her hand and held it.
Dutch sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Dusty, you old coot. What are you doing?”
“Gotta find Weasel.”
“I tell you that dog is safe and sound. He won’t stir in the middle of the night no matter how loudly you call or how many threats you holler.”
“It’s almost morning.”
“Too dark to be morning.” The argument continued between the two men.
“It’s dark because it’s still storming.”
Dutch groaned. “I don’t care for delays.”
Nate’s grip grew firmer and Louise squeezed back. He didn’t care for delays, either, but at least this one was weather related and, as he said, she couldn’t blame herself. Nor could he blame her.
“Please, God, bring an end to the storm.” She hadn’t planned to pray aloud, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the moment.
“Amen,” came from several directions.
“You could pray for my dog while you’re at it,” Dusty said, then slammed out of the cabin before anyone could stop him.
He’d taken the lamp with him, plunging them back into darkness.
“Go back to sleep,” Dutch said with a yawn. “No point in getting up until it’s light out unless Dusty returns with the lamp.”
Nate still held Louise’s hand and she wasn’t going to be the one to pull away. It felt strangely good to be held, secure and reassuring, as well as a feeling she couldn’t quite describe. If he didn’t want the touch to continue, he had only to release her hand and she’d tuck it back under the covers.
But he didn’t and she fell asleep wishing she could hold things this way forever.
Some time later the sound of stove lids rattling woke Louise. She opened her eyes. Dutch was putting wood in the stove and shaking the blue enamel pot. The aroma of coffee pushed away the remnants of sleep.
“I see you’re awake.” Nate sat on his rolled-up bedding. The Adams men and Sam held similar positions.
At Nate’s words, all the men turned to look at her.
From the heat racing up her cheeks, she guessed they grew bright red.
Nate turned away. “We’ll give you ladies some privacy.” The five men lined up facing the wall.
The women hurriedly adjusted petticoats, stockings and dresses.
When they were done, the men returned to their activities.
“Dusty hasn’t returned?” she asked.
Dutch grunted. “He’s crazy to go out in a storm looking for a dog. My guess is the dog has more sense than old Dusty.” He poured coffee for each of them.
Dutch was on his third cup and there was still no sign of Dusty. Or breakfast.
Louise’s stomach growled loudly. She’d eaten nothing the night before and she was hungry. “Does anyone object to me finding something for our breakfast?”
She turned to Dutch. Seemed he was the only one who could give permission.
“You go right ahead.”
“Dusty won’t mind?”
Dutch shrugged. “He’s not here to mind.”
She rummaged through the cupboards and found a store of flour, cornmeal and oatmeal, as well as a few vegetables and a stack of canned goods. Surprisingly little for a man facing a Montana winter.
With an ease born of preparing meals most of her life, she mixed together a large batch of biscuits and after they were baked golden, served them with a jar of preserves that were so out of place with the rest of Dusty’s supplies that she wondered if some woman friend had given it to him. The idea of Dusty with a woman friend gave her the shudders.
“That was wonderful,” Rowena said. “Maybe you should run a stopping house.”
Nate’s eyebrows jerked toward his hairline.
Louise explained her comment.
Dutch considered her. “I believe there will come a time when accommodations such as you describe will be the norm. Though I wonder if the stages will continue to run. The Canadian Pacific Railway will soon bring passengers and freight across Canada from the East. And lines are coming from the East in the States, too.” He sounded so morose, Louise wished she could assure him the railway wouldn’t change anything. Trouble was, she knew it would.
Missy and Rowena helped clean the kitchen, then there was nothing more to do but wait for the storm to end.
Dutch reached for his heavy outerwear. “I’m going to look for that crazy Dusty.”
“I’ll help you.” Nate slipped into his coat.
“Me, too.” Sam followed suit.
Louise gripped her hands together in front of her. She wanted to beg Nate to stay inside. The storm had not abated one bit. It was impossible to see more than a foot ahead.
But she sat quietly as the three stepped outside and the door closed behind them.
“What if they don’t come back?” Missy croaked.
“Think any of us can drive a stagecoach?” Louise looked about, hoping the others would know she spoke in jest.
But both Missy and Rowena looked worried and the Adams men shook their heads.
Louise turned
to the door, a spasm clenching her stomach muscles.
Nate better come back. He’d promised to see her and the baby to Eden Valley Ranch.
*
Nate, Sam and Dutch went to the barn and stepped inside.
“Dusty,” Dutch bellowed. The horses neighed but no human voice answered.
The three of them searched each stall but didn’t find Dusty.
“Are there other outbuildings?” Nate asked.
“An old soddy,” Dutch said. “But not much left of it.”
“Should we look there?”
“I don’t know that I could find my way to it in a storm and I don’t fancy getting lost in this.” The wind battered the walls of the barn.
“My sentiments exactly,” Nate said, and Sam echoed agreement.
Nate perhaps had more reason than the other two to avoid foolish decisions. Louise and her baby depended on him. He’d given his word.
Last night, he’d held her hand until her fingers relaxed and her breathing deepened, signaling she’d fallen asleep again. Only then did he let go of her and reach over to tuck her arm under the covers. He’d been happy to offer her comfort and the promise of protection should Dusty do something strange—stranger than going out into a storm to look for a dog that, as Dutch said, likely had enough sense to find shelter and stay put until the storm ended.
Too bad his owner didn’t have the same healthy sense of self-preservation.
But Nate did. “Let’s return to the house.”
They tromped through the snow, squinting into the swirling powder. Nate knew how easy it was to grow disorientated in such a storm. He only hoped Dusty had found shelter someplace.
Louise rushed to him as he stepped inside the house. “You’re back. I was afraid—” She didn’t finish but helped him out of his snow-covered coat and scarf, and draped them next to the stove to dry.
“Any sign of Dusty?” Archie asked.
“No, but we only went as far as the barn. We decided we couldn’t risk getting lost out there.” Nate watched Louise. Her hands fluttered as if she wanted something but couldn’t remember what.
He caught her hands and pulled her close. “We’ll stay here until it’s safe to move on.”
She nodded and edged closer.
He touched her chin. “I’ll make sure you’re safe.” It seemed to be what she wanted to hear, because she nodded and the worry fled from her eyes.
He led her to the table and they sat down. Soon the others gathered around. Rowena poured them coffee.
Dutch chuckled, bringing all eyes toward him. “I know we’re stranded here until this storm passes and maybe to some of you, it seems primitive. But I gotta tell you, I’ve endured far worse. Worse surroundings. Worse company. One time I was holed up for three days with an old miner who only opened his mouth to spit ʼbaccy juice.” He shuddered, as did Louise, who was still sitting close enough to Nate that he felt her every breath.
He kind of liked knowing she wanted to be so close, even if it might only be because she feared the storm.
Dutch nodded sagely. “I’ve hated chewing tobacco ever since.”
That brought a chuckle from everyone.
Sam leaned forward on his elbows. “That reminds me of the time I got stranded in a storm. I might have been willing to trade places with you, Dutch.”
Dutch snorted. “I doubt it.”
“I got stuck in a house with a preacher and his maiden sister. The preacher wasn’t too bad, but the sister—” He shuddered. “Any of you ever hear of a woman who was a man hater?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “This one was. I was only there one day and overnight, but I have never been so happy to ride out in breath-freezing cold in my life.” He rolled his head back and forth as if trying to erase the memory.
Miss Rolfe wasn’t about to let him stop there. “What did she do?”
Sam made a great show of drawing back. He held up his hands. “Please, I’d rather forget.”
“Well, I want to know,” Miss Rolfe insisted.
“Me, too,” Missy said.
Beside Nate, Louise laughed softly. “He’s making it up. Stringing us all along.”
Sam shook his head. “I’m not. It was awful, I tell you. She kept ordering me to sit up straight.” He jerked to rigid attention to illustrate. “Square my shoulders.” He did. “Mind my manners. ‘Please, ma’am’ and ‘Thank you so much.’”
“That’s not so bad,” Miss Rolfe said. “No reason to complain.”
“You weren’t there. If I stood up, she told me to sit down. If I opened a book, she pointed out I held it wrong. Shoot, she even complained that I closed it wrong. Too loudly.” He illustrated the right way to close a book by slowly bringing his palms together.
As he continued, he soon had them all laughing at the fussiness of his hostess.
A lull followed his story. Louise turned her face toward Nate. “You must have had some exciting experiences while out cowboying. Tell us about them.”
Nate thought of a storm he’d been in a couple years ago. “Me and three other cowboys got stranded in the open for two days and a night. In a storm that sounded like it came from the depths and felt like it came right off the North Pole.”
Louise’s eyes widened and she reached for his hand. Was it as natural to her as it felt, he wondered, or did she do it on purpose to convince the others they were truly married? But why would she care what they thought? Except for Missy, they would likely never see any of them again after this trip.
“What happened?” Louise asked.
“One by one we perished.”
She blinked, gave a mirthless laugh, then flicked her hand against his shoulder. “You did not.”
The others laughed.
Missy leaned forward. “Tell us how you survived.”
He brought his gaze from Louise back to those around the table. “We were smart enough to pull down a bunch of willow branches to form a canopy. Then we banked up snow until we had a snug little cave. We weren’t exactly warm, but we survived with all our fingers and toes.”
“It sounds so exciting,” Gabe said. “Like the North-West Mounted Police crossing the country. They encountered snowstorms, thunderstorms that stampeded their horses. They ran out of supplies, couldn’t find water and yet they persevered and set up the fort where we are headed. I can’t wait to see Fort Macleod.”
Nate decided he wouldn’t inform the young Adams that the fort was not as glamorous as he might expect.
Gabe proved to be a good storyteller and continued with tales of the Mounties’ trek west and then turned to stories about the railway that was meant to unite the eastern colonies with the West.
“Seeing as Dusty isn’t back, should I make some dinner?” Louise asked during a break in the conversation.
The door rattled and they all turned toward the sound. But no one came in.
“It was only the wind,” Dutch said. “I surely wouldn’t mind something to eat.”
Louise bustled about the kitchen and soon a savory smell filled the room. The group continued to share tales as Louise served up the vegetable soup she’d managed to concoct.
“You’re an excellent cook, Mrs. Hawkins,” Archie said after he’d cleaned his bowl. “Nate here is a privileged fellow.”
“Thank you. I hope he remembers it.” She nudged Nate in the ribs.
He grinned at her. “I will.”
She tore her gaze away and grabbed up the used dishes.
Missy and Miss Rolfe hurried to help wash them, and in a few minutes returned to the table.
“What about you, Miss Rolfe?” Sam said, bringing their attention back to storytelling. “Tell us about yourself.”
She sighed softly. “This is the biggest adventure I’ve ever been on. My mother passed on when I was fourteen and I stayed home and ran my father’s house.” She worried a fingertip. “He began to forget things about five years ago. It got worse and worse so he couldn’t remember ordinary things. Like whether to put sugar or flour in h
is tea. I couldn’t leave him alone for the final two years of his life. He passed on last winter. It’s taken me that long to decide to do something different with my life.”
Archie smiled. “Good for you—both for caring for your father in difficult circumstances and being brave enough to take hold of life with such courage.”
“Why, thank you. But you and your son are moving on, too, it seems.”
Mr. Adams nodded, his expression sober. “My wife died of consumption a year ago.”
“I’m sorry,” Miss Rolfe said.
The others murmured sympathy.
Archie looked around the table. “This is about as much adventure as I care for, though I’m excited about starting a new business and a new life.”
Nate thought of how many of them were hoping for a new life. “My wife’s father raised her in a mining camp. Louise, you must have seen some strange things there.”
She laughed. “There were plenty of odd characters.” Her gaze went to the door as if the thought of odd characters made her think of Dusty. “Guess the one that impressed me most as a child was the man who slept beside his donkey.”
Nate didn’t find that unusual; he knew plenty of cowboys who spread their bedroll close to their horse at night.
“Maybe it would be more accurate to say the donkey slept beside him,” she said.
“What does that mean?” Missy asked.
Louise lifted her hand as if to indicate it was nothing. “Just that the donkey went inside the man’s house and slept on the bed with him.”
Stunned disbelief turned her listeners silent for a moment, then Miss Rolfe said, “Eww, that’s awful.”
Nate wondered if it was true or just a good story.
“I think the man was a little touched.” Louise tapped her forehead to indicate what she meant. “Last I recall hearing of him, he’d taken his donkey and an ax into the woods.”
“Louise, what a dreadful story.”
She shrugged. “People do strange things when they lose their minds, sometimes without any warning.”
A scratching came from the outer side of the door, along with a sound—half growl, have moan.
Missy’s eyes were so wide, the whites were visible. She grabbed Louise’s hand. “Dusty’s come back. Maybe with an ax.”
