When Charlie didn’t respond, Nell turned back to find him staring at Maddie. His gaze was one she’d never seen before. Tortured. Sad. She touched his arm. “Charlie?”
“She is,” Charlie finally said.
The words were soft and low, and something in his tone gave Nell pause. Had he ever married? Or longed for children of his own, as she did? “She’s blind. Came to town one day on the stage. She was all alone and won’t tell anyone her last name or where she’s from.”
“She was all alone?”
His question was gruff, and the golden flecks in his eyes blazed with something akin to horror. Baffled, she just looked at him.
“Yes. The mystery seems to stem from Brenna’s aunt. The old woman died on the way here, just passed away in her sleep the night before they arrived. The child had a note in the aunt’s handwriting asking that she be taken to Brenna’s house. No one knows who she is or where she’s from.”
They watched while Penny stepped forward and took Maddie by the hand, then led her down toward the food table. The two girls chatted as if they’d been friends for years.
Charlie turned away, pushing the brim of his hat lower on his forehead, his expression unreadable. “So, she lives with Brenna?”
“Yes. And with Brenna’s three children, and one orphan boy.”
“Do they get along?” He cleared his throat. “I mean money-wise. Do they have enough to eat?”
Nell could see where this was going. But what would be would be. She had no power to stop it, and even if she could, she wouldn’t try. Brenna had a heart of gold. With a man like Charlie by her side, she’d be able to accomplish anything.
“Now she does. For a few years, her money was tight but the people of Logan Meadows helped supply her needs. Made sure she had food for their supper, clothes to wear, wood to burn. She does mending and odd jobs. Now that she’s presiding over the school council, she’s picked up new customers and is doing much better. I guess some people didn’t know her before.”
“Yoo-hoo, Nell,” Mrs. Hollyhock called. “Come sit with us. I saved ya a spot on my blanket.”
Nell waved, then turned to Charlie. “Do you mind sitting with some of my friends?”
“Any place is fine, just so I can dig into this plate.”
Nell led the way. “Thank you, Mrs. Hollyhock. “We’d be delighted to join you.” She sank onto the lemon-yellow blanket spread across the grass. “This is Charlie Rose, our new ranch hand. I thought I’d bring him into town today so he could meet some people.
“Charlie, this is Chase and Jessie Logan, ranchers and friends. They have the spread next to ours.” Chase smiled at Nell. He’d been a good neighbor. Helping out when times got difficult. “And this is Mrs. Hollyhock. Four years ago she sold her store in Valley Springs and followed the Logans here and bought the Red Rooster Inn. And that’s Shane,” Nell finished, smiling at the robust toddler Chase corralled on their blanket. Shane was tall for his age, and he knew it. Messy dark-blond hair stuck out from his head and his overalls already had grass stains on both knees. The child stomped his foot. “Want t’ pway wif Sarah an’ Mark,” he cried, tugging on Chase’s shirt sleeve. His watery eyes tore at Nell’s heart.
Chase picked Shane up and bounced him in his arms. “Just as soon as you eat something, son.” He took a previously cut chunk of meat from his plate and handed the food to the child. “And not a second before.”
Shane blinked the tears away and stuffed the food into his mouth, chewing vigorously.
Tantrum averted, Mrs. Hollyhock took stock of Charlie as only she could do. One had to be made of strong stuff to stand up to her squinty-eyed scrutiny. Jessie caught Nell’s eye and winked. Charlie was oblivious, having lashed into his potatoes. Guess he really had been starving.
Soon everyone was eating.
Mrs. Hollyhock wiped her mouth. “That secret do-gooder struck the inn last week. I found a purty handful of wildflowers tied up with a blue ribbon stuck behind the handle of my chicken coop where I’d be sure to find it.” All eyes focused on Violet. “The sight sure made a nice feeling in my heart. I wonder who the perpetrator could be.”
She stared at Jessie for so long Chase’s wife finally had to speak up. “It’s not me, Mrs. Hollyhock—I’ve told you that before. When do I have time to get off the ranch and come to town?”
Jessie laughed and her husband smiled at the sound, love shining in his eyes. The picture created a deep longing inside of Nell. She wanted a love like that. True and enduring. Something that would last through any hardship.
“I wish I could claim responsibility,” Jessie went on. “Because whoever is accountable is making a lot of people happy. But surely the person must live close by. Maude told me on my last visit that the back porch of the mercantile had been swept clean after an afternoon windstorm. You know how the draft pulls down behind her store. She said one minute the porch was a mighty mess and then an hour later, clean as a whistle. She never heard a thing.”
Nell caught Charlie’s puzzled expression. “Someone in Logan Meadows is doing helpful or nice things for no reason at all. It’s really very sweet. Sort of like Christmas every day.” When she finished she found Mrs. Hollyhock watching her. “Surely, you don’t think it’s me.”
Violet shook her finger. “I don’t know what I think, missy. Could be you.”
“No, no, it’s not. I promise.”
“Well, I’m going to keep going until I find out who’s responsible. So I can thank ’em for all the good they’s doin’. Fer now, I’ll jist have to be satisfied with enjoying this fine supper.” Mrs. Hollyhock graced them all with her elderly, well-used smile, and Nell couldn’t stop a surge of affection. Violet was the closest thing to a grandma she’d ever had—the sort of grandma who would scold you if your parents were looking, then wink at you when their backs were turned. More than anyone, she’d given Nell a feel for what it might have been like to grow up with parents. Just like now, inviting her and Charlie to eat on her blanket as if they were family.
“I heard tell of a bit of news,” Violet went on. “And it ain’t gossip because the juicy tidbit came straight from the billy goat’s mouth.” With that statement, Mrs. Hollyhock had everyone’s attention. Seemed she liked the audience she had and wasn’t going to waste it. “Won’t be but a short spell before the old Donovan farm is plunked back on the market.”
“Really?” Chase asked, interested.
“I jist said it, didn’t I.” The old woman rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why he always feels the need to question me. You think I’m makin’ it up?”
Irritation rippled across Chase’s face. Fond irritation, Jessie liked to say.
“Wilson Nelson and the missus is going back where they come from,” Mrs. Hollyhock said. “Seems she’s never taken to living so far away from her family. Being she’s jist got in the family way, she’s puttin’ her wifely foot down to go home. Didn’t think those city slickers would stay for long.”
“That’s a nice piece of land,” Nell said on a breath, wishing she had the money to buy the place herself. “Nice house, as well.” Real estate like that wouldn’t last long. She could see Chase Logan over there tossing ideas around like a juggler at the fair. He had the means to buy it tomorrow if he wanted. “What about Thom?” she asked. “Does he want to buy back his family home? Take up ranching and farming again?” Though with acting as the sheriff’s deputy and all that he did helping out Hannah at the Silky Hen, that might be tough.
Mrs. Hollyhock shook her head. “Nope. That chapter of his life is over and he’s on to the next—at least that’s what he told me when I asked. The place is fair game t’anyone int—”
Mrs. Hollyhock stopped speaking—an occurrence so rare that for several moments everyone just stared at her. Then the old woman sucked in a breath so hard she started coughing.
“Mrs. Hollyhock?” Alarmed, Jessie reached out a hand. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, yes,” she wheezed. “Gist got the stuffin�
� surprised out of me.” Her crooked, hawk-like talon of a finger pointed toward the road leading to the train station. “Take a gander at who’s coming.”
Approaching on the boardwalk was a tall, thin woman who looked as if she’d seen better days. One ragged carpetbag was all she carried, and she switched the bag back and forth as if the thing were heavy.
“Who is it?” Nell asked. “She must have come in on the train and walked the quarter mile from the depot. She looks tired.”
“No.” The word came out of Jessie slow and shaky. “It can’t be.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Oh, yes siree, it can be. And it is,” Mrs. Hollyhock said in a conspiratorial tone from her spot on the picnic blanket. Nell leaned in to be able to hear. “That’s Beth Fairington, all right. For those of you who don’t know her, she was my clerk back in Valley Springs, in the mercantile—that was afore she run off with some smooth talker passing through town.” The old woman’s face hardened, then the firm line of her mouth faded away into sadness. “Didn’t even have the mind to tell me afore. Near broke my heart at the time. I didn’t even know if she was still alive. I’ve sent many a prayer to heaven on her account.” Mrs. Hollyhock’s tone held censure and affection at the same time.
“Seems she found you, Violet,” Jessie said under her breath. “I wonder what she’s doing here.”
Jessie’s face had all but gone white. Chase scowled.
“What’s she doing here?”
“Can’t say as I know, but it won’t be long afore we find out.”
Mrs. Hollyhock was right. The woman had spotted them on the hill. Her dress, made of some sort of heavy fabric adorned with fancy stitching around the sleeves and plentiful brown buttons up the front, appeared stifling. The cream-colored ribbons of her bonnet fluttered in the warm September breeze. A strawberry splotch on each of her cheeks told Nell she wasn’t as composed as she tried to appear.
“What’s wrong with her?” Nell asked quietly. “I mean, from the sound of it, there isn’t any love lost between you two.”
“Malicious mule of a woman, why—” Chase rumbled.
Jessie and Mrs. Hollyhock gasped. Jessie lunged and pressed her hand against his mouth, successfully shushing him. Charlie started to laugh.
Jessie leaned forward. “She’s a horrible gossip, and didn’t think twice before saying unspeakably mean things about people in Valley Springs. But, I guess we should at least give her a chance. It’s the Christian thing to do. Maybe she’s changed her ways and wants to start over. And Violet likes her well enough, isn’t that right?”
Mrs. Hollyhock’s brows couldn’t go any higher.
Jessie’s head tilted in question. “Violet?”
“That’s right, dearie. Now hush up. We don’t want Beth ta think we’re gossiping about her.”
“Violet?” Beth Fairington stopped a few feet away. Her eyes darted around the group before returning to Mrs. Hollyhock. “Is that you? I can’t believe we’ve run into each other after all these years.”
Mrs. Hollyhock, unable to do anything but, climbed to her feet with some help from Charlie. The two women embraced. Nell overheard a few whispered words exchanged.
Charlie leaned down and tapped Nell’s shoulder. “What do you say we take a walk?”
She set down her plate. “That’s a good idea.”
He held out his hand to help her up. When she placed her palm in his large one, a tickle as soft as a snowflake danced in her belly. She could daydream all she wanted about Charlie, but his asking about Brenna told her everything she needed to know.
Relief rippled through Brenna when Mr. Lloyd approached the side of the schoolhouse where the quilt hung. Wouldn’t be too much longer and this day would be over. She sat beside Mr. Hutton on some brown chairs, and was ashamed to say she’d not dredged up the courage to ask him about Maddie going to school. She hadn’t confessed about the math books, either.
“May I have your attention, please?” Mr. Lloyd called through cupped hands. When he motioned to Brenna expectantly, her insides frosted over. “Mrs. Lane? Would you like to say a word or two before we select the winner of this beautifully stitched sampler quilt?”
Did he expect her to make a speech? This was the first she’d heard of it. She smiled graciously, gathered her skirt and stood. Oh my. She wasn’t a practiced speaker. Her children were the largest group she’d ever addressed. Making her way toward Mr. Lloyd she spotted Penny with Maddie, Jane and Markus. The pride on their faces gave her courage. How could she let them down? Please, oh Lord, put some words in my mouth.
She smiled, then swallowed once. “Th-thank you so much, Mr. Lloyd. On behalf . . . of this year’s . . . school council, as well as our new teacher, Mr. Hutton, I’d like to thank everyone . . . for coming out today to make the open house and fundraiser a success.” She took a deep breath and let the air out slowly, stunned she’d had something to say. Two whole sentences to be exact. Everyone watched her expectantly, maybe even a bit—approvingly. “There are so many people to thank; I really don’t know where to begin. Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Brinkley, for the beautiful new curtains for the school, Hannah and Thom Donovan for the side of beef and desserts for our meal today. Gabe Garrison and Jake for chopping and delivering the wood Mr. and Mrs. Logan donated from their ranch.”
She took another breath. “Mr. Frank Lloyd for his generous gift of two new blackboards and chalk, as well as the desks that were needed this year for new students.”
She paused again. She hadn’t made a list and was going off memory. “Oh, I don’t want to forget Albert and Winthrop Preston for their contribution of a second wood-burning stove so our children will be toasty when the temperatures start to drop. We wouldn’t want them to get frostbite.”
Laughter actually rippled through the crowd. She spotted Hannah in the audience, smiling. Happiness filled her.
She glanced around again, not wanting to leave anyone out. She noticed Mrs. Hollyhock in conversation with a woman she’d never seen before at the back of the crowd. She’d almost forgotten one of the most important people. “And especially to our dear Mrs. Hollyhock and her circle of lovely quilting fairies who spent hours creating the beautiful Logan Meadows quilt for today’s raffle. They alone raised twenty-three dollars and seventy-five cents. A good amount that will be used this coming year for books and supplies.” A round of applause went up and Brenna waved her arm behind her to direct the attention to the quilt.
“A final thanks to everyone who came to support the school and brought a dish to share for the potluck. Everything was delicious. I hope I didn’t forget to mention anyone. Please forgive me if I did.”
There. I can’t believe it. I’m finished and I didn’t stumble, sputter, or go blank. Brenna hid her smile, unable to stay her temptation to sneak a peek at Mr. Hutton. Their eyes met. He gave an imperceptible nod, and then started to clap, and another round of applause went up. Penny’s face glowed brighter than the sun on a cloudless day.
“Now, for those of you who haven’t had the opportunity yet to meet Logan Meadows’s new teacher, who comes to us on the highest recommendation all the way from Pennsylvania, I’d like to introduce him and ask him to say a few words.” She held out her hand and their gaze met and held again. “Mr. Hutton.”
Mr. Hutton smiled and nodded as he came forward. “Thank you for your gracious introduction, Mrs. Lane.”
She felt the intensity of his eyes. She couldn’t decide if they were browner than they were green. Certainly, whichever, they made a flutter in her tummy akin to butterflies racing in the wind. She was relieved when he finally turned to the crowd.
“Thank you so much for the hearty welcome your town has shown me. I’m eager to teach your children. I hope to make a mark in their lives. If any of you have questions anytime throughout the school term, I encourage you to come and see me. The door is always open.” Short and sweet. He stepped away and glanced back at Brenna and Mr. Lloyd as a round of applause filled the air.
Fra
nk Lloyd motioned for the pickle jar. He stuck his hand in and swished the papers around for several seconds, then shook the whole jar up and down. “Mrs. Lane, will you do the honor of selecting our winner?”
This was the best day of her life. “Of course.”
He held the glass container high enough that she wouldn’t be able to see which paper she selected. Stretching up, she reached inside and let her fingers walk around on the papers for a few seconds, smiling at the anticipation written on the children’s faces. She pulled out the winner and looked at the name.
“And the beautiful sampler quilt goes to our new man in town, Mr. Rose.”
Charlie stood behind Nell, watching the proceeding from the back of the crowd. He only had eyes for his little girl. The trip here must have been awful for Maddie. He cursed himself for putting her in that frightening position and grieved, as he knew she must have grieved in silence, the loss of Miss Baxter. He swallowed down a lump of regret, wondering if the trip had proved too much for his old friend, or if it had just been her time to go. Either way, he wished he could save Maddie the heartbreak he knew his child had suffered, and perhaps still did.
Beside the quilt, Brenna Lane laughed and held up the winning ticket. Miss Baxter, God rest her soul, hadn’t exaggerated when she said her niece was pretty. More than that, she was an angel. She’d taken in his little girl, protected her. There wasn’t enough money in the world to repay her for what her kindness to Maddie meant to him.
At his side, Nell gasped with excitement, and Charlie heard the tail end of his name. Guess he’d won. Nell was practically jumping up and down, reminding him of a surprised little girl. He couldn’t resist and chucked her under the chin. “And there you go. Who would have known?”
“Me, Charlie Rose.” Nell grinned. “I had a feeling you were going to win. Down in the pit of my stomach.”
West Winds of Wyoming Page 8
