A Love of Her Own

by Maggie Brendan

  April tossed her hair to one side and smoothed it with her hand. “That’s hardly your concern, now is it?”

  Miss Margaret straightened her spine, fingering the lace on her collar. “You’re right, it’s none of my business. But I did want to tell you that the stagecoach got in late last night, and your bags were left at the depot to be picked up. You may need assistance in getting them.”

  April could tell from Miss Margaret’s chilly tone that she felt rebuffed. “Sorry. I guess I’m still a bit on the weary side. How did you know they arrived?”

  “I saw Leon at Power Mercantile, the general store, this morning. You remember him, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do. I’ll see about getting them sent over today. Now, if you don’t mind . . .”

  Miss Margaret backed away and turned to leave, but then paused and tapped her finger to her face in thought. “Oh, there was a young lad there with him, looking for work. Said he knew you . . . I think he said his name was Billy?”

  April laughed. “Yes, the sweet kid who rode on the stage with Leon.”

  Miss Margaret said quietly, “I think he’s an orphan, but he seems like such a nice young man.” She clucked her tongue. “And him without a mother or father. He said he’d be happy to deliver your bags wherever you wanted them.”

  “That would be perfect! How do I contact him?”

  Miss Margaret gave her a motherly smile. “I’m not exactly sure, April. Like I said, he was at the general store this morning, but I don’t know if they hired him. I told him to check with the Stockton Hotel too.”

  “Thank you, Miss Margaret. I’ll locate him today.”

  Miss Margaret nodded with a smile, and April shut the door, leaning against it. Her eyes caught the clock on the secretary. Miss Margaret was right—she had slept most of the morning away. She’d get changed and find Billy. It’d be nice to have some fresh clothes, but for now she’d have to wear the wrinkled yellow dress that she’d worn to the wedding.

  Suddenly her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since the stagecoach stopped for lunch the day before. Hmm . . . she’d have to do something about that as well. She wasn’t used to having to find her own breakfast. Tilly saw to that. What had Natalie said about a café just down the block?

  But first things first. She’d freshen up, then get something to eat and see about getting her belongings sent to the boardinghouse for the time being.

  Margaret finished her lunch with her daughters, then retired to the parlor as was her afternoon habit. She wiped her spectacles with the edge of her knitted shawl and picked up her Bible and little brown journal. She flipped the journal open to where she listed all her prayer requests, and with great pleasure she placed a check mark and date next to Juliana’s and Josh’s names. Her prayers had been answered where they were concerned.

  Today she decided to make two more entries. She scrawled Billy’s name just under Jane Hood’s name. She’d prayed for Cynthia Hood to find a husband once she’d heard about Jane’s accident.

  Now why couldn’t that child walk? Dr. Barnum had said there was nothing physically wrong with her. Which left only one thing—it was a problem in the mind. The child was angry about her father’s death in the mining accident. It was similar to what Juliana had gone through, except for the horrible way Juliana had found her father after many years of separation. But she had come through it all a better and stronger person. Now Margaret had two young people to pray for.

  One more name was added to her list, right under her two daughters. April McBride. That one is going to need some special prayers or my name is not Margaret! Spoiled little rich girl. So unlike her brother Josh. One would never have known that he was from a wealthy family in Colorado. He was so gracious and kind. Just perfect for Juliana.

  Well, one thing I know for sure, she won’t get her way around here. All the more reason she’d pray for April as long as she was in Montana. Margaret laid her journal aside and picked up her Bible. She started reading from Proverbs and then saw April bounce down the front porch and walk down the street in her yellow party gown with a determined look about her. Margaret couldn’t help but chuckle.

  April loved how the lush mountain peaks jutted up from behind Lewistown, creating a pleasing backdrop to her visitor’s eye. Not as high as the peaks that she was used to in Colorado, but still impressive. The fresh outdoor air filled her lungs and the sun shone brightly. She was glad for her cape, if for nothing else than to cover her rumpled dress. Guess I could’ve asked Natalie for an iron. That would have been the sensible thing to do, but she was in a hurry to get something to eat and then see about her clothes.

  She spied a faded sign swinging just ahead of her, boasting Maggie’s Café, and she picked up her steps a little. A delicious whiff of fried chicken assaulted her nostrils, making her mouth water, and her stomach growled so violently that she placed her hand over her waist. Chicken would be just the thing. Reaching for the doorknob, she was suddenly overshadowed by a burly man in a red flannel shirt and suspenders. She noticed an odious smell of perspiration as he leaned over to get the door for her. She paused at first, but he indicated with a sweep of his hand that she should go first, so she nodded slightly and stepped through the doorway.

  The lunch hour was a busy one this day, and she scanned the room for a seat, hurrying to get away from the burly man behind her. She located a vacant small table nearest the window, but as she reached it, she saw a gentleman’s hat lying in the chair. It was obviously taken, so she turned away, but as she did she felt a tap on her shoulder. Please don’t let it be the man in the flannel shirt . . . Even as hungry as she was, she knew his smell would surely keep her from taking the first bite of food.

  When she turned around, she recognized the doctor from the stagecoach. Except now he looked quite spiffy in his gray suit with matching vest and bat-wing tie. Without his hat, she noticed his chestnut hair was parted slightly to the left and combed straight down, which April thought very fashionable for the times.

  “April, how good to see you! There’s room at my table.” He motioned to the table where he reached down to lift his hat. “Please, allow me,” he said, pulling the chair out for her.

  “Oh, then this was your hat? Well, if you’re sure . . .” She looked up at his eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

  “I’m sure. Take a seat.”

  April did his bidding, and he pushed her chair in, then took his seat as he laid his hat in the windowsill. She picked up her napkin and started to speak just as he opened his mouth to say something, and they laughed.

  “Excuse me, April. You go first.” He smiled and leaned back in his chair.

  April let her cape drop to the back of her chair. “I was just going to say that I was starving. I haven’t eaten since I don’t know when.”

  Mark returned a dimpled smile. “Oh, I thought you were at the wedding last night.”

  “I was, but to tell you the truth, all I saw was cake and punch, when what I needed was a meal. I’m not much on sweets,” she said, unfolding her napkin. Drat! She hadn’t much money on her.

  “Ha! That’s what I like, a gal with an appetite!” His laughter reverberated about the room. “And not too shy to admit it!” Mark motioned to the waiter, a skinny young man with thick brown locks falling across his face. “Pete,” he said, taking the menu from the lad’s hand, “we need to feed this lady right now. Give us two minutes and we’ll order.”

  Pete pushed the lock of hair out of his eyes and bobbed his curly head. “Right away, sir. I’ll be right back with two waters and take your order.” He sped back to the kitchen.

  April laughed softly. “You must eat here often, if you know the waiter by name.”

  “It’s usually where I have lunch before seeing patients in the afternoon.” His eyes were soft and warm as he stared back at her. “Take a look at the menu, April. I highly recommend the roast beef sandwich.”

  “I’m tired of beef. I think I’ll take the chicken and dum
plings!”

  “Does that mean you eat a lot of beef?” Mark asked as he opened up his napkin.

  April did likewise, smoothing the napkin over her dress. “I guess so. On a cattle ranch, it’s the most common staple served.”

  “Josh told me that your dad raises quite a number of cattle. Do you help out, or do you just enjoy being a cattle baron’s daughter? From what I’ve seen of you in the last few days, I’d say it was the former.” He chuckled.

  “And you would be correct, sir. I can’t imagine being indoors all the time, tending house and children. I don’t mind getting dirty, and I enjoy being with horses. I pretty much grew up on horseback. My daddy used to tease that Mama had me while on the back of a horse!”

  Mark laughed and remarked, “Then I would say that’s why you had the skills to take off on your own out there in unfamiliar territory after the stage broke down.”

  April watched as the waiter returned and filled their glasses with water. “I had to be here for Josh’s wedding.” She turned to the waiter. “I’ll have the chicken and dumplings, and make certain they are hot!”

  “We wouldn’t serve them any other way,” Pete said, eyeing her warily.

  “Well . . . just make sure you’re as good as your word.” Her solemn tone held no hint of good humor, especially when she caught him looking at her wrinkled dress.

  “I’ll have the roast beef sandwich, Pete,” Mark said, handing him the menus. “It’s the best.”

  “Right you are, sir.” Pete winked and shoved his pencil behind his ear, then slipped away.

  “So, tell me about the wedding. Was Josh nervous?” April saw Mark’s eyes sweep over her crumpled dress. “And do you normally wear your evening gowns to breakfast?”

  April laughed heartily. “Actually, no. I’m not comfortable in this type of dress for very long.” She paused and reached up to scratch where the edge of lace met her collarbone. “I’m normally in jeans or a split skirt. It’s all that I brought with me when I left the stagecoach.” She caught his raised eyebrows. Let him think what he likes. She didn’t have much choice. Her riding gear was filthy. “As soon as I eat, I’ll go collect my bags from the depot.”

  “Mmm . . . I see.” He leveled a look at her. “But you didn’t answer my question—how was my friend? Nervous?”

  April hooted. “If he was nervous, he didn’t show it.”

  “He married a very nice lady.” Mark glanced away momentarily.

  Did she detect a bit of regret in Mark’s voice? “I guess so. I haven’t had a chance to get to know her, really, but it’s apparent he’s smitten with her. She seems very young.”

  “She’s not that young. Innocence always makes someone look younger. She’s had a hard life for one so young and recently lost her mother. But I think she’s a determined young lady.”

  “Maybe you can tell me what you know about her. Is she from Montana?”

  “I believe she’s been here awhile, but that’s all I know.” Mark’s eyes narrowed in thought. “So, April, tell me a little about your father’s ranch.”

  April had no problem talking about her home or her father’s success. She told him about the cattle her father raised, her participation on the ranch, and how she’d learned everything firsthand by trailing her father around. Mark seemed to enjoy listening to her talk.

  The waiter appeared and placed their lunch on the table and slipped away. April picked up her spoon and dug into the bowl of dumplings. Before long, she turned sideways in her chair, motioning for the waiter. When he sauntered over, her lips drew into a tight line and she said, “I thought I told you to make certain the dish was hot!” She shoved the bowl toward him. “Take this back to the kitchen and heat it up. You must have allowed it to be dipped up awhile before bringing it to me.”

  With a slight bow, Pete lifted the bowl and felt it. “But it is warm, madam.”

  April nearly rose from her seat but instead crouched forward. “Are you arguing with me, young man? There is no steam coming from this bowl of dumplings!” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mark pause with his sandwich nearly to his mouth, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

  Pete backed away with the bowl, stuttering, “I’ll see that it’s reheated.” He started toward the kitchen, shaking his head.

  “You bet you will.” April turned and waved her hand at Mark. “Don’t wait on me. Please go ahead and eat. I don’t know whatever happened to good help!” Her mouth watered at the size of his thick roast beef sandwich, and her stomach growled loudly. She hoped Mark hadn’t heard its noise.

  “I can wait. I’m sure he’s really busy. There’s quite a lunch crowd today,” he said rather sharply. He looked around and waved to the table across the room, and April turned to see the lady with the crippled girl she remembered from the wedding. The lady beamed back at him.

  “Who is that?” April asked just as Pete returned with her bowl of dumplings. This time there was steam rising that could be seen with the naked eye as he plunked it down in front of her. April ignored the fact that he stood waiting to see if it was to her satisfaction, and she continued to eat as if he wasn’t there.

  Mark nodded his thanks, so Pete went on to another waiting table to replenish their drinks.

  “That’s Cynthia Hood and her daughter Jane. Jane was hit by a speeding carriage this winter and hasn’t regained the use of her legs. But as her doctor, I’m not sure why. I can find no medical reason whatsoever. I’m beginning to think this is all psychological.” He chewed his sandwich with a thoughtful look.

  Even though she had sat across from Mark on the stagecoach, she was struck afresh with his dark good looks and easy way of talking. He had nice hands and fingers that picked up his food with certain gentleness. Almost as if it were someone’s heart he was tending to. She dragged her eyes away.

  “Mmm . . . interesting. But what would cause that?” April was now enjoying her bowl of dumplings and felt like licking her lips.

  “I’m sure I have no idea. I just started to get to know Cynthia a little after the accident. She’s a widow now.”

  Ah, so the wealthy doctor must have his eye on the little blushing widow. Why else would he be gazing at her and her crippled child when I’m sitting directly across from him?

  “Jane is a very beautiful young girl,” April commented, looking again at the young woman with large hazel eyes and blonde hair. “Perhaps she needs something to take her mind off her situation.” April patted her lips with her napkin.

  “Do you have an idea?”

  April’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Hmm, I just may,” she said, polishing off the last bite of her lunch.

  “I’ll be glad to introduce you to Cynthia and Jane after lunch.”

  April scooted her chair back. “Maybe another time. I’ve got to go now.” She pretended to look in her handbag for money, stalling for time.

  Mark stood. “You’re leaving? I’ll take care of the lunch,” he said as she rose and picked up her cape.

  She closed her handbag. “Oh, thank you, Dr. Barnum. I hope I’ll see you around town.” She pressed the sleeve of his arm with her hand and gave him her sweetest smile.

  He tilted his head toward her. “I’m sure you will. If there’s anything I can do for you before Josh returns, please let me know.”

  “I certainly will. Thanks.”

  Stepping out into the brilliant sunshine, April squinted, wishing she had worn a cowboy hat. Then she thought how ridiculous it would have looked with her fancy yellow dress. I could get some attention fast that way. She laughed to herself.

  She made her way toward the depot, her tummy full, feeling satisfied that she’d just had lunch with a well-to-do doctor. April intended to make certain that he would want to see more of her while she was here. She’d keep an eye on Cynthia just in case Mark had more than just a friendship with her. She couldn’t let that happen as long as she was in Montana, or she wouldn’t have a ready escort. It couldn’t hurt to be seen around town with a prominent membe
r of Lewistown either. No reason not to have some fun away from home while in this boring mining town.

  6

  Morgan jumped down from the stagecoach seat and directed Leon to get the horses unharnessed while he headed inside the depot office. He was glad that he had the rest of the week free before the next scheduled departure on Thursday. He’d been going for two weeks now with no respite. He intended to make the most of his time off. Although he loved his job because he met interesting people along the stage run stops, it was time to rest up in his own bed tucked away above the depot, perhaps visit a few friends, and maybe catch a church service. His soul needed it.

  The stiffness in his hips reminded him that he was getting older, and sooner or later he’d be forced to cut back on the long hours of driving the stagecoach anyway. His rheumatism would see to that. He made a mental note to ask Miss Margaret if she used any tonic for her aches and pains. Maybe he’d see her at church or run into her around town. Could be soon that he’d just work behind the scenes and run the stage operations. Not a bad idea at all.

  He couldn’t help but notice out of the corner of his eye that a trunk was sitting off in the edge of the clearing underneath the towering ponderosa pines. He paused, placing his hands on his hips. Now what in tarnation was it doing over there? Did one of his passengers forget to pick up their luggage last night?

  He strode through the door and walked up to the ticket counter where Will was counting the day’s receipts. Will paused and glanced up, looking through the grilled window.

  “Well, howdy, Morgan!”

  Morgan nodded. “Whose luggage is piled out there under the trees?”

  “A lady by the name of April McBride. Don’t know why she hadn’t come for it, but we had a skunk problem out back yesterdee, and her trunk may have picked up some of the odor, so I drug it off a ways, until she can come and have it hauled off.”

  “Ah . . . yes, April.” Morgan took a deep breath. “She’s not gonna be too happy about this.”