Cowboy Charm School

by Margaret Brownley

  Ignoring her concerns, he pulled off his hat and set it on his empty seat. “Katie…” He cleared his throat and pulled a scrap of paper from his shirt pocket. He quickly scanned it before beginning again.

  “Katherine Anne Denver,” he began, surprising her. She couldn’t remember him ever saying her full name.

  Looking as serious as an old cat, he continued, “I love everything about you. I love the way you smile, the way you make me smile. I love the kindness you show to others—”

  Touched by his words, Kate covered her mouth with her hand and gazed at him through misty eyes.

  Frank’s eyes widened in alarm. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, it’s just”—she brushed away her tears—“you’ve never said anything that nice to me before.”

  He jerked his head back. “Sure, I have. What about the time you changed the wagon wheel? I told you that a man couldn’t have done it any quicker.”

  “Well, yes, there was that.”

  “And I praised you to high heaven when you caught that twelve-pound bass.”

  “Yes, yes, you did.”

  “And don’t forget how I complimented you for winning the yodeling contest at last year’s county fair.”

  She leaned forward. “What I meant to say is that I didn’t expect you to say such nice things here. On the train.”

  He pulled out his handkerchief and mopped his brow. “Is it okay if I continue?”

  “Well…” She glanced around, but the other passengers were either sleeping or had their heads buried behind newspapers. She looked back at him. He looked so earnest, so hopeful, that she didn’t have the heart to tell him no. Yet neither could she tell him yes. Not while the memory of another man’s kiss was still so fresh in her mind.

  Evidently taking her silence as acquiescence, Frank replaced his handkerchief and studied the scrap of paper in his hand. “Katherine Anne Denver, I love…”

  Kate listened in disbelief as Frank cited everything about her from her hair to the way she wrinkled her nose. Never had she imagined that he could be so sensitive. He made her brassy-red hair sound like gold, and her freckles… Oh my, he even had something nice to say about those.

  How could she not have known that he thought this deeply? Cared this much. “Oh, Frank,” she whispered.

  “Wait. I’m not done yet.” He held up the ring. The setting sun turned the diamond into a flash of white fire.

  “Katie. I mean Katherine Anne Denver…”

  Someone shouted, drowning out his next words. Kate craned her neck to see over the heads of the other passengers. At first, she didn’t see anything, but then everything changed. Three men with flour sacks over their heads ran down the aisle, brandishing guns.

  Watching in horror, Kate drew back, hand on her mouth. Still kneeling in front of her, Frank asked what was wrong, but before she could answer, one of the bandits stopped by her seat. He pointed his weapon straight at Frank’s head.

  Kate gasped, and a shiver of panic raced through her. “Oh, please, don’t hurt him!”

  “I’ll take that,” the bandit said, voice muffled, and just like that, he snatched the diamond ring clear out of Frank’s hand.

  25

  News of the train robbery raced through town like wildfire. It reached Brett as he was having supper at the boardinghouse where he was staying.

  One of the other boarders had burst into the house yelling, “The train has been robbed.”

  The words were hardly out of the man’s mouth before Brett was on his feet. He shot up with such force that his chair went flying across the floor.

  Not wanting to take the time to saddle his horse, he ran the half mile to the train station.

  He had been so certain—so absolutely certain—that his trap would work. He and Sheriff Keeler had stayed hidden in the underground cavern nearly all afternoon waiting for the Ghost Riders, but they’d failed to show.

  Instead, Sweeney arrived by his lonesome with the unwelcomed news that the stage had reached town unmolested.

  Now more bad news. Something had gone terribly wrong. Was Kate all right? Why had he talked Foster into taking her to Austin? It had never occurred to him that the trip would place her right in the heart of danger. That his carefully laid plans would go astray.

  He reached the train station out of breath. Others had raced to the station upon hearing the news, and mass confusion reigned. The sheriff and his deputy had already arrived, and everyone was talking at once.

  “Plumb stole my watch,” a male passenger yelled.

  Not to be outdone, a woman shouted, “That’s nothing. They stole my purse.”

  Brett almost bumped into Lucky Lou. For once, he didn’t have his dog. “Have you seen Kate?” Brett asked.

  “No, can’t say that I have. Was she on the train?”

  “Yes, yes, she was.” Or at least she would have been had Foster played his cards right.

  With growing anxiety, Brett moved through the crowd. At last, he spotted Kate, and relief washed over him like a tidal wave. At that moment, it seemed that no one else existed. Elbowing his way to her side, he unthinkingly took her by the arm.

  “Are you all right?”

  She whirled about, startled. “Oh, Brett, it’s you. Yes, yes, I’m fine. We both are.”

  Drawing a blank, he released her, and only then did his brain begin to function. “Oh, you mean Foster. What happened?”

  She gazed at him with quivering lips, her blue traveling suit emphasizing the color of her eyes. “Oh, Brett, I was so afraid. A man held a gun to Frank’s head.” Her voice wavered as she spoke, and she looked like she was on the verge of tears. As she recounted the chain of events, her expression reflected horror and disbelief.

  Taking her hands in both of his, Brett squeezed them tight. “You’re safe now,” he said. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  He heard her intake of air. “Frank too,” she said, beseeching him. “Please, don’t let anyone hurt him either.”

  “I…I won’t.”

  “Had something happened to him…” She shook her head. “I can’t bear to think about it.”

  Brett watched her intently as she spoke. If he hadn’t known it before, he knew it now. Kate’s feelings for Foster ran deep. He could see it in her eyes, her face, hear it in the tremble of her voice.

  Not wanting to dwell on how he felt about that, he got down to business. “Was it the Ghost Riders? Were they the ones who robbed the train?” He already suspected the answer, but he needed confirmation.

  “Looked like it,” she said. Her forehead creased. “There were three men, and they wore flour sacks over their heads. And one of them was shot.”

  “Shot?”

  She nodded. “Somehow they got the train to stop before reaching town. As they were making their escape, a passenger pulled out a gun and fired out the window. I saw one of the bandits grab his shoulder and fall to his knees.”

  That was encouraging news. In a town this size, it shouldn’t be that hard to find an injured man. “What happened then?”

  “I don’t know. The train took off.”

  With a jolt, Brett realized he was still holding her hands. That’s because he had suddenly noticed her ringless finger. Releasing her, he glanced around at the still-milling crowd.

  “Where’s Foster?”

  “He’s talking to the sheriff.” Kate’s gaze softened, and she touched his arm. “I don’t understand, Brett. Why would they hold up the train?”

  He grimaced. He’d told her some of the plan, but not all. “Somehow they must have found out that the gold was not on the stage. We made a last-minute switch to the train.”

  Her eyes softened in sympathy. “That means your plan didn’t work.”

  He drew in his breath. The feel of her hand threatened to burn a hole through his sleeve. Her touch w
as pure torture, and the only way he could think straight was to pull his arm away.

  Through the crowd, Brett spotted the sheriff talking to Lucky Lou and Hoot Owl Pete while Deputy Sweeney questioned a woman holding an infant.

  He’d previously discounted the idea that the sheriff or his deputy was involved, but now he had second thoughts. Only the three of them had known that the shipment of gold had been sent on a circuitous route to Haywire by train. That certainly pointed the finger of suspicion at the two lawmen. One or even both of them could very well be a Ghost Rider. But how was that possible?

  The sheriff had been with him all day, and the deputy’s whereabouts were accounted for. How could Keeler and Sweeney be in two places at once?

  But if it wasn’t them, who else knew of the switch?

  Dear God, who else?

  26

  After tossing and turning all night, Kate rose just as the silver fingers of dawn crept along her windowsill. Already, the air blowing through her open window was warm, promising another hot day. It felt more like summer than spring.

  She quickly dressed, and after fixing herself a hasty breakfast of coffee, cold bread, and jam, she headed for the shop. Instead of waiting to ride to town with her aunt, she walked the mile, hoping to clear her head.

  It wasn’t just the holdup that had been on her mind all night; it was Frank.

  Dear, sweet Frank. She still couldn’t believe the nice things he’d said. He’d touched her deeply, maybe more deeply than he ever had.

  So why the confusion? It wasn’t like her not to know her own mind, but her emotions were so tied up in knots that she couldn’t begin to unravel them.

  Frank had been about to propose. He’d been on his knees, ring in hand. Had it not been for the holdup, he would have asked her to marry him, and she had no idea how she would have answered him.

  It was true he had changed. She’d had to keep blinking to make sure it really was him and not another man who had taken over his body. He’d been so sweet and thoughtful in recent weeks and seemed to have his jealousy under control. There really wasn’t any reason not to marry him. What woman wouldn’t want a husband like him? The mind was certainly willing, but the heart held back, and she had no idea why.

  Was it Brett Tucker? No, no, no, that wasn’t it. There was no denying that she found him attractive. What woman wouldn’t? The combination of blond hair, blue eyes, and winning smile made him the most attractive man she had ever set eyes on. But that didn’t make him suitable as a husband.

  In any case, he wasn’t interested in her. He wouldn’t be so eager to leave town if he were. At heart, he was a roamer and had even said as much. Men like him could never settle down. He’d also made it clear how much he regretted his part in stopping her wedding.

  He never missed a chance to put in a good word for Frank and try to convince her to take him back. He’d also told her in every way possible that their kiss had meant nothing and would never happen again. What more proof could she possibly want?

  Maybe knowing that he wasn’t interested—knowing he was out of bounds, knowing that he would soon leave Haywire behind—maybe that’s what made him so attractive. Wasn’t it the forbidden fruit that people found most tempting? Every day, she watched her customers try to resist the mouthwatering display of confections in her shop. Few, if any, succeeded.

  So, was that the answer? Was knowing that Brett was out of reach the real attraction?

  Whatever the reason, she owed it to Frank to be honest with him. It wasn’t fair to let him go on thinking things could go back to the way they were before their disastrous wedding. She loved Frank, she did, but not in the way he deserved to be loved. She knew that now. The question was what to do about it.

  Pushing her thoughts aside, she inhaled the fresh morning air. Since it was still early, the town was relatively quiet. She waved at Old Man Gordon, who was erecting a sign in front of the general store announcing that day’s specials. Already, Hoot Owl Pete had taken up residence in front of the shop, next to the carefully arranged pyramid of plump peaches.

  The window of Frank’s saddle and leather shop still displayed a closed sign. From the door of the boot and shoemaker shop, Shoe-Fly Jones waved, and she waved back. The tantalizing scent of fresh bread wafted from the bakery, and two horses were already tethered in front of the Feedbag Café.

  Arriving at her own shop, she turned the key in the lock and entered. The sweet smell of caramel and cinnamon greeted her like an old friend. Today, she would master her uncle’s recipe if it killed her. Losing herself to the task of candy making was the only way to take her mind off things she’d rather not think about.

  Donning her apron, she immediately set to work. Tossing sugar and water into the large copper pot, she placed it on the stove and stirred the mixture with a wooden paddle until the sugar reached the hard crack state.

  No sooner had she poured the mass onto the cold slab and set it aside to cool than her aunt entered the kitchen, complaining about the high price of molasses. “Sixty-seven cents a gallon, can you believe it?” Dumping her bag on the counter by the sink, she glanced at the white, misshapen glob on the counter and shook her head.

  “Land sakes, I should have known. You’re at it again. Whenever something happens to you, out comes your uncle’s hard candy recipe.”

  Kate poked a finger into the sugary mass to see if it was cool enough to pull. “Uncle Joe said that only a true artisan can make this right.”

  Aunt Letty rolled her eyes. “There’s no money in that. It takes too long to make. You can make a week’s supply of toffee in the time it takes to make a small batch of that stuff.”

  “This isn’t about money,” Kate said. “It’s about art.”

  Aunt Letty shook her head. She was far too practical to worry about art. In that regard, Kate took after her uncle.

  Transferring the sugar mixture to a heated plank to keep it pliable, Kate pinched out a strand and blocked out the design, using a strip of green dough. Later, she hoped to master a more complex design, but for now she would keep it simple. She wrapped the strand in a length of white sugar mixture. To this, she added a layer of red and rolled the mass into a strip several inches thick.

  She stretched and pulled at the strips until at last she had a thin, narrow rope. She then cut off an inch. Holding her breath, she picked up the piece and yelped with joy. “Look! I did it, I did it!”

  Dancing around the room, she held the piece so that her aunt could see the design in the center.

  Her aunt’s eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

  “What? Oh, it’s a leaf.”

  “It looks like a vase.”

  Kate examined the piece in her fingers and turned it. “That’s because you were looking at it upside down.”

  Aunt Letty squinted for a closer look. “A leaf, eh?”

  Kate shrugged. “Okay, the design still needs work. But it’s a start.”

  “Yes, it is.” Aunt Letty shook her head, but she looked pleased. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you and your uncle were blood relatives.”

  At the mention of her dear adoptive uncle, Kate sighed. “I just wish he were here.”

  Her aunt’s face softened. “I have a feeling he’s looking down on us this very minute.”

  Kate set the piece on a plate. “And probably laughing at my leaf.”

  “Vase,” Aunt Letty said, and they both laughed.

  “Oh my, look at the time,” her aunt exclaimed. “I’ll open the shop while you finish up here.”

  By the time Kate had cut up the rest of the candy and cleaned the kitchen, the store was filled with customers. Unfortunately, Kate’s candy got nowhere near as much attention as yesterday’s train robbery.

  Brett walked in, and Kate’s heart skipped a beat.

  “Just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he said.

&nb
sp; Touched by his concern, she drew in her breath. “Thank you, I’m fine.” The candy shop was her refuge, and no matter what happened, she always found comfort there.

  Lucky Lou pulled his dog away from the display case and tutted. “Honestly, I don’t know what the world is coming to. It’s getting so you can’t leave the house for fear of being robbed.”

  “Ah, but I have just the solution for that,” Harvey Wells said and held up what looked like a woman’s purse. He waited until he had everyone’s attention. “Let’s say you’re out shopping. Suddenly, a man comes up to you and points a gun at your head.” He indicated that with a pointed finger to his temple.

  A couple of women gasped and, reminded of the holdup, Kate ran her hands up and down her arms.

  “Ah, but not to fear, ladies,” Harvey said in his best peddler voice. “When he tells you to hand over your purse, simply pull the string that’s attached to the handle, and there you have it!” He yanked on the string and the bottom of the purse opened, allowing the contents to drop to the floor. “The thief won’t want to stick around long enough to pick things off the ground. He’ll take off, and your valuables will be safe.”

  As he was explaining his invention, Ringo pulled his leash out of Lucky Lou’s hand, snatched the roll of money that had fallen from the purse, and ran.

  “Hey, come back with that!” Harvey yelled.

  Lucky Lou and the other men tried to corner the dog, but when another customer walked into the shop, Ringo escaped through the open door.

  Harvey chased the dog outside, waving his hands and yelling at the top of his lungs, “Stop, thief!” The other customers spilled out of the shop like ants scrambling out of a nest, all of them shouting. Even Aunt Letty joined the pursuit.

  Kate burst into laughter. She couldn’t help it. All those people running after a single dog was just too funny for words. Brett, however, didn’t seem to see the humor. Instead, he stood watching Lucky Lou through the window.

  “What’s he doing?” he asked.