Cowboy Homecoming

by Louise M. Gouge

  “No, sir. Those were more than mischief, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am. But I’m working real hard to change, to make up for all of it. In Boston, I attended a Bible-teaching church every Sunday and listened real hard to the sermons. I worked hard to get good grades at Harvard, and I’ve been admitted to the Colorado judicial system.” Tolley couldn’t stop his pathetic self-defense, even though he wished he were addressing the Colonel. “I even—”

  “That’s enough.” Scowling, George stood and stepped toward the door. “You make sure you don’t do anything to hurt Laurie. As anybody with eyes can see, you two ain’t children anymore.” He slapped his hat on his head and marched from the building.

  Tolley rested his arms on his desk and his head on his arms and breathed out a long, deep sigh. If George Eberly, one of the founders of Esperanza, wouldn’t trust him with his daughter, that boded ill for his future here. If the Lord weren’t using him to help Mrs. Foster, he’d pack up and leave. He didn’t know where he’d go, but surely someplace in this world would grant a man a new beginning.

  * * *

  That evening, seated at the kitchen end of the dining room table, Laurie ladled out the chicken stew and passed the first bowl to Mrs. Runyan.

  “Mrs. Foster tells me this is one of your favorites.” Laurie smiled at the woman. “Of course it won’t be as good as hers, but I hope you’ll enjoy it. We Irish do like our cabbage, don’t we?” Perhaps being both chummy and self-effacing, she could forestall any complaints.

  Mrs. Runyan’s eyes widened. “Why, yes, we do. I didn’t know you are Irish.” As she spoke, the brogue she’d never used before crept into her words.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Laurie served bowls for Tolley and Mr. Parsley and passed them down the table. “You can see it in the red hair my sisters and I inherited from our Irish ma.”

  “She’s the Irish one, you say?” The woman took a bite of her chicken stew. “Not bad, though I think it needs a dash of pepper.”

  Pleased her strategy worked, Laurie glanced down the table at Tolley. He’d been awful quiet since coming home. In fact, he’d gone to his room until time for supper. Now a little smile crept over his face, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  “Say, Mr. Parsley.” Tolley handed the basket of rolls to the man. “My watch needs to be cleaned. Could you look at it tomorrow?”

  Mr. Parsley stared at Tolley as though surprised by the request. “I shall have to consult my schedule. I am currently making a watch for an important client, and he expects it to be completed by the end of this week. Then I have other clients...”

  “Of course.” Tolley caught Laurie’s gaze and shrugged. “Fit me in where you can.”

  She made sure the others weren’t looking her way before rewarding him with a wink. Oddly, Tolley frowned and gave a little shake of his head. Did he mean she shouldn’t wink, as they’d always done? She sighed. Now that they were grown-ups, would she and her sisters lose all of their fraternal camaraderie with the Northam brothers?

  “Miss Eberly.” Tolley gave her a bland look. “Would you grace us with a piano performance this evening?”

  Why did he act so formally, as though they hadn’t grown up together like brother and sister?

  Mr. Parsley perked up. “I do miss Mrs. Foster’s lovely playing of an evening. While I doubt your performance could match hers, I should greatly enjoy such entertainment.”

  When Mrs. Runyan echoed their request, Laurie could only acquiesce. After all, if it brought unity among the boarders and improved the atmosphere of the house, she’d gladly do it. Of course, that generated an important question. If she spent an hour or so entertaining them, would any of them help her afterward with cleaning up the kitchen and taking care of Mrs. Foster? Quite unlikely.

  As she retrieved the applesauce cake from the kitchen and served it to the others, she struggled against resentment. Ah, well. This situation wouldn’t last long. Summer would end, and she’d return to Denver, where she could concentrate on the career the Lord had set before her.

  * * *

  Seeing the distressed look on Laurie’s face, Tolley would’ve bent his rule about women’s work and carried some of the dishes to the kitchen, but he couldn’t be alone with her in a room with the door closed. Neither of the other boarders gave any indication they’d changed their minds about helping. But George’s angry charge made Tolley determined to avoid any hint of impropriety. Even sharing winks, something he’d done all his life with the Eberly girls, must now cease. The same went for sociable banter. Yet if he couldn’t enjoy his friendship with Laurie, he’d feel more alone than ever in a town full of people who shunned him.

  After dessert, Mrs. Runyan and Mr. Parsley settled themselves in the parlor and watched expectantly, even impatiently, through the arched doorway into the dining room while Laurie cleared the table. Arms loaded with dishes, she pushed through the kitchen’s swinging door, and soon the clatter and clink of plates and silverware reached Tolley’s ears.

  He couldn’t help her, and he couldn’t bring himself to join the others in the parlor. Instead, he went out the front door and around the house to make sure the chickens had enough water in their low metal trough. He pulled the few weeds from among the corn and bean plants, appreciating how well Laurie kept up the garden. When he finally heard music wafting through the parlor window, he went back inside to join the others.

  “In Dublin’s fair city where girls are so pretty...” Laurie played the Irish ballad and sang the tragic story of fishmonger Molly Malone.

  Tolley had often heard Mabel Eberly sing the ballad but never so sweetly. Laurie had an uncommonly pretty voice. In a city like Boston, she would receive many invitations to give recitals and concerts. As he watched her get lost in the music, the delicate timbre of her voice caused his own heart to swell with emotion. Apparently Mrs. Runyan felt the same, for she sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with an embroidered white handkerchief. When Laurie finished the song, Tolley and Mr. Parsley clapped their hands. Mrs. Runyan applauded enthusiastically, bouncing in her chair as she clapped.

  “Thank you.” Laurie gave them all a gracious smile and went on to play two more pieces.

  His request for the impromptu recital had been a good idea. However, if he expected the older boarders’ music appreciation to carry over to approval in other areas, he found himself mistaken within seconds of Laurie’s final song.

  “I must say, Miss Eberly.” Mr. Parsley stood and straightened his jacket. “You do have a prodigious talent. However, I caution you to avoid developing the character flaws afflicting many entertainers.”

  “Why—” Tolley’s hands bunched into fists, and he took a step toward the little man.

  Laurie stepped between them. “Why, thank you, sir. With all of the temptations this world offers, we younger folks can’t have too many warnings.”

  “Humph.” The man marched from the room and climbed the front stairs.

  “You’d do well,” Mrs. Runyan said, “to keep company with Anna Means or Mrs. Wakefield. They will provide the proper moral examples for you.” Nose thrust into the air, she traipsed out of the room after the watchmaker.

  Tolley felt as if the top of his head might explode. He turned to Laurie, who stared up at him, her eyes rimmed with red. “They aren’t worth the grief they’re giving you.”

  “Why don’t you retire, too?” Her voice wavered as she spoke. “I have things to do.”

  Tolley longed to tug her into his arms and comfort her, but he didn’t dare. “Very well. I wish...”

  “Good night, Tolley.” She spun around and marched toward the kitchen, her posture stiff.

  He lay awake wondering what he could have done to help her. The unwelcome idea of washing dishes came to mind, but he quickly dismissed it. First of all, it was women’s work. Second, and most important, he still couldn’t be in the kitc
hen alone with Laurie, especially with the others in the house. Even if he did help out, she’d probably stick around to make sure he did it right. He could tell his quietness had hurt her this evening, yet he certainly couldn’t tell her about her pa’s harsh words. He just couldn’t win.

  * * *

  Teardrops splashed into the dishpan as Laurie washed the supper dishes. She was so tired. Beyond tired. Again the question came to mind: How had dear Mrs. Foster managed all these years? Mr. Parsley and Mrs. Runyan added insult to injury. How awful of them to ruin a perfectly good evening with their baseless accusations and suggestions. Befriend Anna Means? Why, the girl was barely sixteen. As for Rosamond, she was already a friend, a very busy friend whose father lay seriously ill. Laurie wouldn’t think of requiring anything of her, no matter how much she longed for help. Nor would she consider going home. Mrs. Foster needed the meager income from her boarders, her eggs sales and her piano students, and no one could help her but Laurie.

  As for Tolley, she couldn’t imagine what got into him this evening. First his coolness toward her, then his bright idea that she should give a concert. She didn’t mind playing. In fact, she loved “Molly Malone.” Growing up, she’d often sung it with Ma and her sisters to make their chores seem to pass more quickly. She supposed Tolley had meant to help. She released a mirthless laugh. If he really wanted to help her, he’d be with her right now drying these dishes.

  She washed the last pot and poured the dishpan and rinse pan down the drain that emptied into the garden, then went to the back door, planning to step outside and gaze up at the stars. Standing here in the dark and looking at the splendors of the night sky always gave her a sense of peace and wellbeing, even made her feel closer to God, no matter how tired she felt.

  Running footfalls and a moving shadow on her right shattered all feelings of peace. As the shadow disappeared around to the north side of the house, she gasped and withdrew back inside, locking the door behind her. Who was out there? She stared through the window into the dim moonlight. The gate to the chicken pen appeared to be open, and perhaps the henhouse door, as well. The hens would be sleeping now, but they’d surely wander away if they found the gate open in the morning.

  That wasn’t going to happen. Mrs. Foster needed those hens, needed their eggs. Laurie locked the front door, something folks didn’t do around here because they trusted their neighbors, unlike the people in Denver. She made quick work of drying and putting away the last of the pans before tiptoeing upstairs and checking on Mrs. Foster. The dear lady lay fast asleep, so Laurie quietly retreated to her own bedroom. There she took her Colt .45 from its holster and made her way down to the backyard in the dark.

  A soft evening breeze stirred the air, and she inhaled deeply to check for unusual smells, such as human sweat or even cologne. Nothing caught her notice. She closed the henhouse door and secured the latch on the chicken pen gate. It wasn’t broken, so somebody had opened it.

  She turned back to the house in time to see a large, dark shape moving toward her, silhouetted by the dim lantern light shining through the kitchen window. A violent shiver swept through her body. With great difficulty, she pulled up her gun and aimed with a shaky hand. “Wh-who’s there?”

  Chapter Seven

  “Laurie?”

  “Tolley!” She sank to her knees, barely able to contain her relief. She felt him kneel beside her and grip her shoulders.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  When she could find her voice, she told him about seeing the open henhouse door and chicken gate.

  “I came out a while ago to check their water, but I made sure the latches were secure.” He chuckled as he helped her stand. “It only takes one time of letting chickens out to never do it again. They’re awful hard to catch.”

  “That’s for sure. But that’s not all. Somebody was out here. I saw a shadow move around to the north side of the house, heard heavy running feet.”

  Tolley stiffened. “Let’s get you back inside. Then I’ll have a look-see.”

  Laurie and her sisters knew how to protect themselves, but it felt surprisingly good to turn the situation over to him. “All right. Get your gun. And be careful.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He held her arm as they walked back to the house.

  They entered the kitchen to find Mr. Parsley in his dressing gown, arms crossed. “What is the meaning of this late-night tryst?”

  Standing at his elbow, Mrs. Runyan mirrored his posture. “Miss Eberly, I am ashamed of you.” She glared at Tolley. “As for you, young man, I’ve heard about your reputation. I am not in the least surprised at your—”

  “Oh, hush!” Laurie stamped her foot for emphasis. “We had a prowler. Mr. Northam found me in danger and kept the man from creeping into the house.” Not quite what happened but enough to stop their foolishness.

  Again performing their imitation of a Greek chorus, the two boarders gasped in unison.

  “A prowler!” Mrs. Runyan’s voice rose to a shriek.

  “Shush!” Laurie hissed out the word. “You’ll waken Mrs. Foster. Now go back to bed. Mr. Northam will go outside and make sure the man’s gone.”

  “Yes, ma’am, Miss Eberly. I’ll get my gun and check the yard.” Tolley edged past her, carefully avoiding touching her. Only five minutes ago, his grip had felt so reassuring. Now he was doing his best to protect her, not from a prowler, but from wagging tongues.

  Mrs. Runyan tugged her dressing gown closer to her round form. “I do not care for your tone of voice, missy.”

  “Watch how you speak to me, young lady,” Mr. Parsley added.

  For Mrs. Foster’s sake, Laurie swallowed a cross sigh along with a large measure of her pride. “Please forgive me, both of you. I saw the chicken pen open and knew you’d want your fresh eggs in the morning, so I went out to close it so the chickens wouldn’t run off and lay their eggs who knows where. Seeing that prowler distressed me terribly, causing me to forget myself. I will not speak so rudely again.”

  “See that you don’t.” Mrs. Runyan turned and pushed through the door.

  Mr. Parsley apparently couldn’t think of a rejoinder to outdo the lady’s comment, so he resorted to his usual “humph” as he followed her out of the kitchen.

  Laurie sagged into a chair beside the table and lay across the flat surface. Seeing the leftover applesauce cake, she pulled the plate toward her and removed the glass cover. She didn’t bother to fetch a fork, but used the triangular silver server to eat bite after bite. Funny how sweets could soothe a body’s ravaged emotions. Funny how she’d much rather have Tolley’s reassuring brotherly arms enfold her instead.

  * * *

  In keeping with the methodology learned at Harvard, Tolley formulated a schedule to accomplish all of his goals. After exercising Thor and taking care of the chickens, he spent his mornings in his law office and his afternoons working on the bathroom. However, at first light today, he added inspecting the grounds around the house. A good thing he hadn’t found the time to trim Mrs. Foster’s lawn. Large footprints pressed down the long grass in several places, and now a dewy film clearly marked the depths of the dented spots. Tolley couldn’t see anything remarkable about the prints. Maybe he should have Sheriff Lawson check them. With his tracking experience, he’d notice anything significant.

  At breakfast, Tolley told the others of his plan to report the incident to Lawson today. Annoyed with the boarders’ behavior last night, he didn’t care what they thought, but he spoke to the whole table so Laurie would be reassured.

  “You should have gone to his house right away and reported the prowler.” Mrs. Runyan poured a long stream of cream into her coffee and stirred up a whirlpool in her cup, her spoon clinking loudly against the china. “He could have caught the man.”

  “If you had any sense, you’d have done so.” Mr. Parsley broke custom and
agreed with the milliner for once.

  “Tolley... Mr. Northam thought it more important not to leave us unprotected.” Laurie spoke in her sweetest voice, causing Tolley to come near to choking on his jam-covered biscuit. Where was the spitfire who’d rebuked these two last night? “Didn’t you, Mr. Northam?” She tilted her head and glared at him, commanding him to agree.

  He smothered a teasing grin. Mustn’t tease her anymore. “Yes, ma’am. I feared the varmint might come back while I was gone. I wanted to be sure you all were safe.” He set his napkin beside his plate. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go see the sheriff right now.” He didn’t dare to look at Laurie for fear he’d start laughing. Didn’t these older adults hear themselves? Hear how foolish they sounded?

  After breakfast, egg basket in hand, he strode up the dusty road toward Main Street. Behind him a horse approached, and Doc Henshaw drew up beside him.

  “Was out at Four Stones. Thought you’d want to know there’s some change in the Colonel’s condition.”

  Tolley’s pulse began to race. “Is he awake?” If he were dead, Doc wouldn’t beat about the bush in telling him.

  “He’s still not fully conscious, but he’s able to take some broth. It’s a good sign.”

  “Thanks, Doc.” How long would it be before his family let him see for himself how the Colonel fared? Even so, he felt encouraged. If all went as planned, he’d have plenty of good deeds to present to his father when they finally had a conversation.

  With Doc’s good news, the day seemed a bit brighter. Tolley hastened his pace toward Main Street. This time when he turned the corner, he gazed with pride at his sign swinging gently in the morning breeze. A woman stood at the front door, and Tolley’s heart kicked up. His first client? As he drew near, he recognized Effie Bean.