A Love of Her Own

by Maggie Brendan

  He just stood there. What a temper she had! What had he done that was so wrong? Somebody had to tell her about the odor, didn’t they? Otherwise he’d never be able to get close to her, even if she’d let him. Aw, heck, he could just hear Josh say, “Don’t you have a lick of sense when it comes to women?” Wes decided it was easier to live without ’em. They were just too hard to unscramble.

  11

  Lengthening afternoon shadows fell across the dusty trail by the time April neared the wagon road that would lead her back to town. After galloping away from the Rusty Spur, she rode back around to the meadow, then stopped the horses to allow them a cool drink in a small rushing creek. She sat there staring across the stream watching a bald eagle fly to his nest high up in the towering ponderosa pine trees. All was peaceful and quiet—in total contradiction to how she was feeling inside.

  What was happening to her? In just a short time after being on the stage ride, then meeting Billy, Wes, Mr. Kincaid, and Miss Margaret and her daughters, she was beginning to feel inadequate somehow. Before, she could have cared less what other people did, how they made their money, or what struggles they faced. But now, after being here only a few days, she noticed her outlook included a more serious consideration of some of her new friends. Maybe because they cared about her? Oh, April had been cared for—her father had given in to her every whim, but did he really want to know her and what she was thinking? April chewed her bottom lip. If she was honest with herself, the answer would be no. She was more like a pet or a trophy to introduce to his friends, just like her mother was.

  These intruding thoughts scared her. She’d never considered them before now. It was shameful to admit, but it was true. Now April found herself wanting to do something for Billy and Jane. But what? She realized that she’d never devoted one minute to helping out someone else.

  Suddenly, April wondered what people thought about her. That had never seemed important to her until now.

  From her afternoon experience with Wes, it was obvious to her he owned very little other than a few good horses, a run-down house, and a few measly acres—along with a very hard head! He acted as though he owned half of Montana. His place was disgusting to her. If he was the only one occupying the place, wouldn’t he keep it up? Mend a fence, cut the grass, repair the rickety steps, or replace the shingles?

  She’d never understand someone like him, and didn’t want to. So why did she find him attractive? He wasn’t her type at all. He had a scruffy jawline, which told her shaving was hit-or-miss with him. But he sure wore fine, supple boots and a nicely rolled Stetson. He was leaner and more wiry-looking than she cared for. April was normally attracted to men who could wrestle a bear or erect a barn in one day flat, and for a brief moment she thought of Luke back in Colorado. But this time her heart didn’t hurt.

  She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was about Wes, but something was there, all right. From what he’d said, he already had a lady he had a fondness for, and on top of that, April had noticed how he and Natalie flirted at church.

  It seemed that her good sense had flown right out the stage– coach door during the arduous ride. April blamed it on the clear mountain air or Montana’s big sky.

  With annoyance, she tugged on the reins, guided Gus out of the creek while still holding the rope tethered to Sassy, then started back to Lewistown. How ridiculous that she was even contemplating a man like Wes when she was going back to Colorado after Josh and Juliana returned.

  “April, you got yourself a horse!” Billy shouted when April came riding into the depot clearing.

  April was grateful no one else was around to see her beltless and bootless and her hair a tangled, wet mess.

  He reached up to grab Gus’s reins as she stepped down. “My, she is a beauty.” He frowned, looking at her dirty socks caked with dried mud. “What in tarnation happened to you? Where are your boots? Did you forget them?”

  “Never mind that, Billy. Please tell Mr. Kincaid I appreciate the use of his horse,” April said, climbing onto Sassy’s back. She looked down at Billy. “Her name is Sassy. You can ride her just about anytime I’m not riding her, but right now, I need to get on back to the boardinghouse. It’s getting dark.” April’s voice softened. “Do you think you could give Gus a rubdown? I’m going to owe you for helping me out. I do appreciate it.”

  Billy stepped back. “Sure thing, Miss April. And I’d love a chance to be able to ride your horse.”

  “I appreciate that. We’ll talk more later on.” She made a clicking sound against her teeth and set off down the street toward Miss Margaret’s.

  After getting Sassy settled in Miss Margaret’s barn with fresh water and oats, April led her into a stall and swung the gate shut. I’ll have to ask about boarding her and the cost of food, she thought as she hurried toward the house. Her feet were beginning to get cold now that they had come in contact with the ground. In the mountains, no matter the seasons, the temperature always dropped near dusk. Her own stomach rumbled a bit, reminding her it was nearly supper time, and she knew how Miss Margaret was about punctuality. It’s was almost five o’clock. She decided to try to slip up the stairs without being seen before supper. She could just imagine Louise’s scoffing.

  The back door opened quietly enough, and April started tiptoeing down the long hallway past the kitchen toward the foyer. So far, no one was around. Good. With only her socks on, no one would hear her . . . or so she thought.

  “April,” Miss Margaret called. “What are you doing in dirty socks, leaving a trail of footprints down my clean hallway?”

  April spun around to see Miss Margaret in the doorway of the kitchen, wiping her hands on the white apron covering her housedress. April could hear Natalie and Louise chattering in the kitchen along with a bang of the oven door and the rattling of pans.

  “I was hoping no one would see me like this. This is the second time I’ve come back looking like a drowned rat. I must look a mess.” April removed her hat and hitched up her jeans drooping at the waist.

  Miss Margaret gave her a quizzical look. “Well, I must say it’s disconcerting to see you like this twice in a row. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had a penchant for swimming in the creek with your clothes on.” Her mouth twitched sideways, suppressing a laugh.

  April was glad Miss Margaret didn’t scold her. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Perhaps you’d like to tell me about it later? Don’t look so sad, April. I tend to look at the inside of people, not the outside. That never reveals one’s true character.”

  April didn’t know what to say to her comment. “Excuse me. I’ll run upstairs and get cleaned up.” But suddenly she realized she didn’t have anything to change into that didn’t have a smell clinging to it.

  Miss Margaret stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Not until you take off those muddy socks. No need to leave another trail on my rugs on the stairs.” She wrinkled her nose as April held on to the stair railing for support and stripped off her socks. Miss Margaret reached out and took them with the tips of her thumb and forefinger, holding them away from her body. “April, I fear there’s no need to try to wash them. Do you agree?”

  April smiled. “You’re right, of course. I guess tomorrow I’ll have to do a little shopping.”

  “Mother,” Natalie called from the kitchen.

  “I’ll be right there,” Miss Margaret called back. “See you at supper, April. We just have light sandwiches and refreshments in the parlor on Sunday nights, unless you have other plans.”

  April paused on the stairs. “Hardly, but later I would like to talk to you about something.”

  Miss Margaret tilted her head to look up at April with a questioning look. “I’ll be looking forward to it.” She turned back to the kitchen, and as she did, May and Willard burst through the front door, laughing and chattering away. Not wanting to get waylaid by them, April hurried up the stairs to clean up.

  Preferring not to be alone after April left, Wes saddle
d up Dakota and decided to pay a little visit to Jane. Josh had asked him to look in on her until they returned since Juliana had sort of taken an interest in Jane and her mother, Cynthia. It was not yet dark, so he had time for a short visit.

  On his ride he kept remembering the tips Josh had given him on how to act and talk around females, if he ever intended to court someone. Wes hadn’t held out much hope and hadn’t been trying . . . until April came along. At the wedding, he was hardly able to tear his eyes away from her. She looked so lovely in the pale yellow dress with her big luminous eyes. Well, the outward appearance was nothing like what the inside was, apparently. She was in a different class than he was.

  He supposed it had been a dumb thing to dump her in the water trough, but at the time, it seemed the best way to handle the smell quickly before she had a chance to argue with him. He chuckled, thinking about how fetching she’d looked as she angrily floundered around in the water. Well, he figured he could give up the idea of courting her after that. She’d never forgive him. If Josh were here, he might be able to help Wes figure out what he should do. But for now he’d put April out of his mind.

  Before he knew it, he was at the home of Cynthia Hood. He looped Dakota’s reins around the white picket fence and grabbed the sack from across the saddle horn. Cynthia had a green thumb from what he could tell. Her small yard was immaculate. Fall chrysanthemums of yellow and orange decorated the stone pathway, and potted plants that he guessed were ferns framed either side of the front door. Wes didn’t have much knowledge about plants, and he sure didn’t know how to put together the look he saw, but he knew he liked it. Maybe that’s what his place needed.

  He rapped on the thick door and could hear Cynthia’s heels on the floor just beyond the door as she approached and swung it open. “Well, Wes. What a surprise.” Cynthia stood looking at him, waiting for the reason for his visit.

  “I hope it’s not too late to drop by for a few minutes.” He felt awkward holding the bag in his hands.

  Cynthia paused, then swung her arm inside. “Where are my manners? Please come in.” She moved aside to let him enter. “Jane and I were in the parlor reading and taking it easy this afternoon. You know, I work at the boardinghouse on weekdays.” Cynthia walked toward the parlor with Wes behind her.

  “Josh and Juliana asked if I would just drop in from time to time, to check on Jane or see if you needed anything.” Wes remembered to remove his hat, but only because Josh had insisted he do that when he entered someone’s home.

  “I’ll take your hat and hang it right here on the coatrack.”

  Jane sat in her wheelchair with a cat curled in her lap and a book in her hands. She looked up as Wes walked into the homey room. “Wes, I’m so glad you came to see us! What have you got in that bag?”

  “I’ll tell you about that in a little while, after we talk,” he said, taking a seat in the stuffed chair near Jane.

  “Would you like to share some tea or coffee with us? We were just about to have a light snack.”

  “No thank you, Cynthia.” He placed the bag next to him.

  “Then I’ll go make Jane and myself something and be back directly.” Cynthia proceeded to the kitchen, leaving the two of them to talk.

  “So, little miss. How do you think you’re doing? Have you tried to stand or walk?” Wes watched Jane’s reaction to his question. Her young face registered surprise, but Wes didn’t know how to be anything but direct and to the point. He wanted to get to the real reason he was there.

  “Why . . . you know I can’t walk!” Jane shoved the sleeping cat off her lap, and he leaped with surprise and ran out of the room. “I can barely stand with assistance.”

  “I wasn’t sure, Jane. But I have an idea. Are you interested?”

  “Maybe,” Jane answered with a weak smile. “What’s your idea?”

  “You know I raise horses. I thought that it might be fun to take you riding sometime—let you get some outdoor exercise. Might be good for your legs,” Wes said. “What do you think?” Jane’s face was too pale, he thought. The fresh outdoors would be good for her.

  “I . . . I’m not really sure. I might fall off. Besides, I have no proper riding clothes.”

  Wes opened the sack. “I have something to get you started.” He pulled out the soft leather belt and the matching brown boots. “You can wear these boots, and I guess your mother could go over to the general store and buy you a small pair of Levi’s.”

  “You mean I’d have to sit astride the horse?” Jane seemed curious about the whole thing now.

  “That’s the idea. I think it would help you use your leg muscles and stimulate circulation.”

  “Hmm. I don’t know . . .” Jane looked at him, but he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Was it fear?

  “Don’t know about what?” Cynthia said. She carried a tray laden with a silver teapot and cookies, placing them on a nearby table flanked by chairs.

  “Wes has invited me to go riding!” Jane answered, taking a cookie off the tray.

  “Is that so?” Cynthia poured the tea into their cups, added sugar, then handed one to Jane.

  “It’ll get her outside, and the action of riding may be beneficial,” Wes said as he watched Cynthia sip her tea with a brooding eye on her daughter.

  “I see. What an unusual idea. Would you enjoy that, Jane?”

  Jane shrugged. “I guess so. It might be fun. I’ll go if you think it’s okay.” She held up the boots and belt. “He brought these for me to use. I’d need to ride like the men do.”

  Cynthia reached down to finger the belt. “Very nice. What a clever idea.”

  “If you could get her a pair of jeans and bring her over one day, say, the middle of the week, we could give it a try.” Wes stood up to leave.

  “I guess there’s no harm in trying, and Mark told me that you have the best-trained horses around.” Cynthia set her cup down. “I’ll have to make arrangements for her to be taken by wagon to your place, since I work all week at the boardinghouse.”

  “Don’t you worry about that, ma’am. Just leave that to me and I’ll see to it.” Wes reached for his hat and walked toward the door. “I might be able to get Billy over at the stage depot to give me a hand.”

  Jane squirmed in her wheelchair. “Do you have to go? We could play checkers or something.”

  Wes almost said no, but the pleading in her voice made him change his mind. “Okay, but just a couple of games. I don’t want to keep you ladies up late,” he said with a wink, making Jane laugh. “We’d be glad for the company, wouldn’t we, Jane?” Cynthia beamed at her daughter.

  “Oh yes. Mother, can you pull out the checkerboard?”

  “In that case, I’ll take a cup of that coffee,” Wes said, hanging his hat back up.

  Soon the three of them were having a wonderful afternoon. Wes noticed more than once how the little girl seemed to manipulate her mother into jumping at her every request. But then Wes remembered she was crippled. When Wes got up to leave, the doorbell sounded, and he said good-bye to Jane while Cynthia greeted Mark Barnum.

  She turned to Wes. “You know Dr. Barnum, don’t you, Wes?” Mark nodded, and Wes reached his hand out to shake the doctor’s. “Yes, we’ve met a time or two.”

  Mark looked from Wes to Cynthia. “I hope I’m not interrupting your evening.”

  Cynthia clasped her hands tightly, looking uncomfortable.

  “Not at all, Doc. I was just leaving. I came by to check on Jane as a favor to Josh.”

  “I see. That’s wonderful. Jane needs friends,” he said, smiling. “Wes thinks horseback riding may encourage Jane to regain the use of her legs,” Cynthia remarked.

  “Is that so? Well . . .” Mark clapped Wes on the back. “It certainly can’t hurt. Good thinking, Wes.”

  “Mother!” Jane yelled.

  “Excuse me.” Cynthia left the two men talking and hurried back into the parlor.

  Mark walked with Wes to the front door and looked at him intently.
r />   “Is there something on your mind, Doc?”

  Mark cleared his throat before speaking. “I don’t mean to interfere or be nosy, but are you planning on courting Cynthia?”

  So that’s why he’d stiffened when he saw Wes there. Wes’s face broke into a wide smile. “The answer is no. It’s as I said—I really came to talk to Jane about going riding at my ranch.”

  Relief flooded Mark’s face. “Wonderful. I mean, that’s good. Please don’t take offense. I’ve been trying to get to know Cynthia better since her daughter’s accident.”

  Wes reached for the doorknob. “No offense taken. But you may have your hands full where her daughter’s concerned.”

  Mark rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I know exactly what you mean, Wes. It’s something we’ll have to work on.”

  “Be seeing you around, Doc.” Wes stepped out into the dark night and paused, listening to the night sound of the sighing wind through the trees. He dreaded going home to a cold house once again and longed for companionship. A vision of April crossed his mind. Give it up, man! You two are from different worlds. About the only thing they had in common was a fierce love of horses.

  The more he thought about it, the more agitated he became. He needed a drink. He hadn’t been to the saloon since that night he’d been reading Scripture and wrestling with the Lord, and he’d finally accepted His Word about who He was. If it hadn’t been for Josh, he never would’ve even picked up the Good Book. But just for tonight, maybe he’d drop over to the saloon and have a quick drink before hitting the trail. One little drink couldn’t hurt, could it?

  12

  When April reached her room, she could hardly wait to remove the heavy, wet jeans. She had to nearly peel them off, which only made her madder than a rider being thrown from a horse. She threw them into the corner and started to unbutton the chambray shirt when she spied something draped across her bed, which mysteriously had been made while she was out. What in the world . . . ? Someone had left a simple calico dress in a soft shade of rose trimmed in delicate velvet piping, and a fresh set of undergarments were laid out next to the dress. She almost squealed in delight. She had something fresh to wear! She didn’t know whether to be insulted or flattered. But Wes was right. Her clothes held an odor despite the bath in the tub of tomatoes and a rinse in the creek. The dress was an older style but looked almost new.