Frontier Secrets

by Anna Zogg

  “Where Mr. Callaway died?”

  “That was more Dakota Territory.”

  She wanted to ask him about his first father, but Rhett’s whole demeanor seemed to say, “That is off-limits.” Why? What made him so nervous?

  Backing away, Rhett peered at the sky. “It’s late. I need to return you to the ranch before your uncle worries.”

  He needed to? His choice of words struck her, reminding her that she now lived in a different place where people took the law into their own hands. If her uncle believed for one moment that Rhett had insulted her, he wouldn’t hesitate to string up his newest worker on the closest tree.

  “Let’s hurry then.” Without waiting for his help, Ellie leaped down from the back of the wagon. Soon, they were on their way.

  But for the remainder of the drive, she couldn’t help but think she knew so little about the man seated next to her. Yes, he was courageous, strong and a hard worker, but what did she really know about him?

  What secrets did he carry that he was unwilling—or unable—to share?

  Chapter Eight

  Rhett proved correct about Uncle Will. Although Ellie had left a note about where she’d gone, her uncle came down the porch steps to meet the wagon with a glower that made her gulp. A half-dozen men followed. From all appearances, her return interrupted a late Sunday dinner.

  Yanking a tucked napkin from his shirt, Uncle Will tromped toward them.

  She had just begun to speak when his gaze widened.

  “What is that?” He pointed to the gelding.

  “A horse. That I bought.” Without Rhett’s assistance, Ellie climbed down from the wagon. “He was one of the stagecoach horses that was injured in the—”

  “You paid for that hack?” Uncle Will’s derision appeared to override his earlier irritation.

  The crowd in the yard grew.

  “Yes.” Ellie lifted her chin.

  “I hope you gave no more’n two bits. Doubtful he’s worth even that.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the ranch hands sniggering or elbowing each other. She cleared her throat. “I haven’t yet settled on a price.”

  Uncle Will made a sound of contempt. “Regardless, you’ve wasted good money.”

  “Irrelevant.” She squared her shoulders. “Besides, it’s done. The gelding’s mine now.”

  “I suppose he had a hand in this?” Her uncle’s head jerked in Rhett’s direction.

  “No. It was my doing. He followed my orders.”

  The look her uncle shot at Rhett was pure disgust. “Then he’s a bigger fool than I thought.”

  Something snapped in her. “Rhett can’t do anything right in your eyes, can he?”

  As soon as she spoke, she regretted her words. How foolish to not only draw attention to him, but stir her uncle’s wrath. Especially in front of his men. But she plowed on. “Is this the way you treat all newcomers? Because I haven’t been exempt either. Ever since my arrival, you’ve kept me from doing what I love most—tending to people’s needs. And going to church. Or helping in any way. Do you expect me to sit around like a—like a trinket?”

  Silence met her rant. But strangely, she felt like a weight had lifted. She had grown weary of being ignored. It felt like a replay of what she’d experienced with her father after Mama passed. He paid attention to her only when he needed her—to help with patients or to pick up after him. Later in his life, she was his living crutch as she put him to bed when he was too drunk.

  However, Ellie realized that she should have chosen a better time for this conversation with her uncle. A dozen men crowded around them, eyes fixed on their boss, apparently waiting for his reaction. And from their faces, they expected an explosion of anger.

  “I’m sorry.” She stepped closer and spoke in a lowered voice. “Please forgive my sharp tongue. I should not have spoken out of turn.”

  Risking a glance at Uncle Will, she expected any expression but the one she saw. The harsh lines of his face relaxed while a bemused grin twitched under his mustache.

  “You sound just like your mother, Adeline.” A soft gleam settled in his eyes. “She put me in my place a time or two. And I deserved it.”

  Ellie snapped her mouth closed, not only to keep herself from speaking, but to hide her shock.

  “Well, it’s your money. I have no say.” Her uncle ran a thumbnail across his jaw. Minutes seemed to tick by while he seemed to ponder what to do. “All right. You want to do some doctoring? Here’s your chance. Prove you can keep that horse alive and you’ll have my support to treat anyone on the ranch.”

  Of its own accord, her mouth dropped open again. She hurried to draw herself up and press her case. “I’ll need Rhett’s help. He’s familiar with Tripper. And the horse trusts him.” Ellie risked a glance in Rhett’s direction to see his reaction. Still seated on the wagon, he stared ahead without moving, like he had turned to stone.

  “Tripper, eh?” A snicker escaped Uncle Will. “Apt name. Fine. Put the gelding in the barn. Then you can do what’s necessary to nurse him back to health.”

  She dared to clarify one point, especially in front of Guy and the other ranch hands. “And Rhett can tend to my horse? Anytime necessary?”

  Rhett wouldn’t abuse the privilege. She was sure of it.

  “Let it be so.” With a wave, her uncle dismissed that small point. “Now come inside before dinner gets any colder.”

  Uncle Will swiveled on his heel and tromped up the steps to the house. Gathering her skirts, Ellie hastened after him. However, when she reached the porch, she stopped to look back at Rhett.

  The sun, high in the sky, illuminated his face. He remained unmoving as the men in the yard dispersed. Only when most had disappeared did he click to his horse to head toward the barn. Before he moved past the house, though, he threw a glance her direction.

  His wink was all the approval she needed.

  * * *

  “There’s a boy. Good boy.” Keeping his voice low, Rhett ran his hands over the gelding’s neck and shoulder. Tripper was in bad shape, evidenced from his lackluster coat and weight loss. Most alarming was his dull eyes. Like life was not worth living.

  “Don’t give up.” Rhett gently scratched the horse’s head. “Your life promises to improve immensely.”

  The horse appeared not to care.

  The barn door, creaking open, warned Rhett that they were no longer alone. Already a few of the ranch hands had come in for a look, as though to gauge the horse’s survival chances. However, from the swish of skirts, Rhett ascertained that Ellie was the visitor this time.

  “Hello?” Her gentle voice called in the gloom of the building.

  Rhett kept his voice low to not spook Tripper. “Here. In the corner stall.”

  The rustling drew closer. Ellie’s lovely brown eyes met his before turning to her horse. Worry wrinkled her brow as she studied him. “I came as quickly as I could.” She took a deep breath, gaze still fixed on the gelding. “Is he really as bad as my uncle paints?”

  “Maybe.” Rhett clamped his mouth shut, not wanting to promise more than was wise.

  “What did they do to you?” she whispered as she stroked the horse’s cheek.

  “It’s what they didn’t do.” When Ellie tilted her head, Rhett went on. “They isolated him, then fed him too little.”

  Horses needed companionship. Neglect could kill faster than anything else he knew.

  For the first time since they’d returned from town, the horse gave a tentative nicker and nosed Ellie. Again, Rhett was struck by God’s gift to her. Tripper instinctively knew she was a friend.

  “Your touch is medicinal.” Rhett hadn’t meant to speak aloud, but he wasn’t sorry he had. Perhaps in bringing healing to this horse, she would find it for herself. He sensed her deep sorrow, evidenced by her distrust of God’s love. Who had wounde
d her?

  Ellie’s eyes widened. “I didn’t do anything yet.”

  “Yes, you have.” Rhett merely smiled. When her mouth puckered, he added, “You took him from a bad situation and brought him to a place where he knows he’s loved.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Don’t discount the value of your kindness. It can have an enormous impact on a horse. Or a person.”

  He had no doubt she knew he referenced himself. As he met and held eye contact with her, a pretty blush rose to her cheeks.

  She was the first to look away. “I brought—brought the salve I was talking about earlier. On our ride. To town.” She removed the lid from a tin.

  A strong scent tickled his nose, overpowering other barn odors. “Smells powerful.”

  Even Tripper’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared.

  “Rub the salve into his wound.” Ellie nodded toward the horse. “It’ll help your hands at the same time.”

  “Now?”

  “Please.” Her eyelashes fluttered.

  “If you would be so kind as to hold Tripper’s head...”

  They traded places. As he moved toward the horse’s rump, her grip tightened on the halter. Rhett ran his hand along the gelding’s ribcage, taking care to move slowly. Just because Ellie was there didn’t guarantee the horse would remain calm, especially with the wound appearing so inflamed.

  “Easy, boy.” With caution, Rhett inched his hand closer. The flesh felt hot.

  The gelding visibly shuddered.

  “It’s okay, Tripper.” In a noticeably lowered pitch, Ellie’s sweet voice soothed. “We are only trying to help. That salve will feel so good.”

  As Rhett scooped out a handful, he watched the horse’s ears. They would tell him when to proceed.

  As expected, Tripper’s ears only flicked back for a moment before pointing ahead. His attention seemed riveted on the blonde beauty before him, who stroked his face and murmured soft words. Rhett rubbed the salve on the wound, smiling to himself as he worked. If Ellie did that to him, he would forget everything but her too.

  In no time, he finished.

  “Put some salve on your other hand,” she instructed without looking away from Tripper.

  Grinning, Rhett did as she commanded.

  “Good boy.”

  He nearly laughed aloud when he assumed she was talking to him, but no, she appeared to be still talking to Tripper.

  She finally turned. “Is there anything else we can do for him?”

  “I provided hay and water. But he should have grain to help him recover quicker.”

  “A regular supply won’t be a problem.”

  He grinned, not doubting it for a minute. Ellie Marshall was a strong-willed and resourceful young woman.

  “Isn’t that better?” she asked Tripper as she resumed stroking his neck.

  Rhett studied his tingling hands. Whatever was in the salve felt good.

  “I, uh...” Ellie drew his attention back to her. “I wanted to apologize. For what I said earlier.”

  He spread his hands. “What do you mean?”

  “I shouldn’t have pried into your family.” She spoke slowly. “I could see that you didn’t want to talk. It’s a very great fault of mine. Being curious. Sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  “Friends get to do that.”

  She blinked. “Friends?”

  “Yeah.” He screwed the lid back on the tin. “Leastways, I consider you my friend.”

  Her lips still formed a little O. Then a shy grin softened her mouth. “Thank you.”

  He studied the metal container, wanting to share more of his life with her. But would she think him impertinent? “I made a promise. To my mother. She asked that I never mention the man who fathered me.”

  “Then I’m more than sorry for prying.”

  “I would tell you more. If I could.” But even as he spoke, he wondered at his boast.

  When will I be able to speak my true name without shame?

  But would he want to? The moment he accepted Mr. Callaway’s message and felt God’s work inside him, Rhett felt as though he passed from death to life. A new life replaced his old.

  Much like his name change from Walker to Callaway. He was less the son of Everett Walker and more the adopted child of God.

  “It’s late.” Ellie’s soft voice interrupted his thoughts. “Have you eaten yet?”

  “No.”

  She squared her shoulders. “From now on I want to see you at the table. Along with everyone else.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Why not? You need sustenance, like everyone else.”

  He cast about for the right words. “First, let me prove myself. To the men. To your uncle.”

  “But...” One hand clenched. “It’s not right.”

  “No, but it is wise.”

  Her chest heaved as though she wanted to continue arguing. But his mind was made up.

  Perhaps she saw that. She sighed into the silence.

  “Someday,” she finally spoke, her voice low and determined, “I promise, you will take a meal in the house. Without fear. Head held high.”

  Something tightened in the pit of his stomach at the sight of her, eyes blazing, cheeks darkened and mouth set. How he wished her statement would come true.

  With that came a desire for her to be seated beside him. He gloried in that beautiful possibility.

  Chapter Nine

  In the morning, Ellie slept until her usual time. The house sounded empty—the men must have already breakfasted and started the day’s work.

  Yawning, she considered that she rather liked the quiet, so unlike her mornings in Chicago. Here, no one would be ringing the front bell. No servant would peek in to see if she were awake or enter to rouse her. Someone wouldn’t be lurking in the hallway to pounce on her to tell her that her father was already waiting. Or remind her she was already late for breakfast or a dozen appointments.

  After stretching, Ellie finally rose for the day.

  Her uncle surprised her when she emerged from the room, sitting at the table and frowning over a ledger.

  He looked up when she stopped on the threshold. “G’morning.”

  “Good morning.” After shutting her door, she sauntered closer.

  As if on cue, Mrs. Johnson appeared with a plate of flapjacks and ham, with a steaming cup of tea.

  “Thank you.”

  The woman merely nodded before disappearing into the kitchen.

  Ellie sat where her breakfast waited, uncertain about her uncle’s presence. After their showdown the day before, she felt a little hesitant to speak to him. Would he be the amiable man she saw last night at supper? Or the taciturn taskmaster she was more used to?

  After bowing her head to pray, she began to eat. He ignored her. As his pencil scratched the paper, she risked a few glances at what he worked on. It appeared to be an accounting. Of the ranch? A few more peeks let her know that he had experienced some losses over the last few years. The recent harsh winter had taken its toll on him like everyone else.

  She was just finishing her breakfast when a violent cough took hold of him. Uncle Will retrieved a dark kerchief and covered his mouth until the fit passed. After pocketing the material, he went back to his ledger.

  Feigning disinterest, Ellie took a sip of tea. “Does that often happen?”

  “My figuring?” He frowned as he bent over the paper, but she wasn’t fooled. He only pretended to misunderstand her.

  “Your cough.”

  He scratched some figures before answering. “Comes and goes.”

  “Hmm.” She let it pass, tamping down a growing worry. Would he let her examine him? No. She needed to prove herself with Tripper first. And Ellie would. Then she would attend to her uncle.

  “I was
wondering.” He set down his pencil. “Would you be interested in seeing the ranch? Been meaning to take you.”

  She sucked in a quick breath. “Today?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d like that.” Ellie smiled. “Very much.”

  “Good. Got different clothes? Or do ladies back east wear fancy dresses like yours to go riding?”

  “I’ll change.” She rose and smoothed down her skirt. The silk morning gown she wore was utterly unsuitable for horseback.

  When she reached her bedroom door, he called, “I’ll be in the yard, saddling up a couple horses.”

  She hurried to change into her riding pants, blouse and jacket. As she studied her boots, hat and gloves, she couldn’t help but think how out of place they were compared to western wear. She shrugged. They were all she had. However, she did forego the riding crop.

  As she walked across the yard, she couldn’t help but notice how the nearby men stopped working to stare. One man called to his companion who nearly toppled a wheelbarrow he was pushing. The tittering got louder by the time she reached her uncle.

  When he turned, he nearly leaped back. His gaze rose to the elaborate feathers on her hat, eyes widening like he’d never seen fine-crafted bonnets before. His whistle—somewhere between admiration and derision—went on and on until she felt like her face was on fire.

  She planted one fist against her hip. “Okay, say it. The hat’s absurd.” In Chicago, her bonnet had been quite fashionable seven months before. But here, elaborate accoutrements must appear ridiculous.

  His gaze strayed upward again. “We’ll stay out of the woods. Don’t want you to get caught in the tree branches.”

  Laughing, she pulled on her gloves.

  He stared downward now, frowning over her outfit. “But I’m afraid we don’t have a sidesaddle.”

  “Even though this looks like a skirt, it’s not. I can sit astride.”

  “Good.” He turned to adjust the height of the stirrups. “You take this gelding. He’s gentle.”

  She couldn’t help but smile at his assumption that because she was dressed in fancy clothing, she couldn’t ride. Perhaps she’d get a chance to show off her skills.