A Love of Her Own

by Maggie Brendan

  “Thank God you’re all right!” Miss Margaret rushed toward her. “If my hair wasn’t already white, it certainly would be turning now!” Miss Margaret continued to cluck like an old hen. “I never should have let you go on that trip, not that I have any power over what you do.”

  April was too tired and frazzled to even laugh at her comment. “I’m all right now that it’s all over with, though I left Billy with a heartache at the depot. He’d taken to Leon immediately when he first arrived in Lewistown, and poor Leon . . . he . . . I just don’t want to think about it now, Miss Margaret. It’s just too sad . . .” April’s voice trailed off.

  Louise and Natalie came hurrying downstairs, already dressed for bed in their robes. April almost laughed when she saw the white cream on their faces. “April, we heard what happened. You look a fright!” Natalie said.

  “You would too if you’d just driven a team of horses with an injured man all day and into the night,” Louise admonished her sister. “How do you think we must look with our faces covered in thick cream?”

  “Well . . . thanks for the compliment, I think,” April said. “But if you don’t mind, I really must go to bed now.”

  Miss Margaret stopped her. “I’ve kept a plate warm for you on the stove. Don’t you want something to eat?”

  April looked at the older lady, patting the hand that rested on her cane. “I really couldn’t eat a thing right now . . . You understand, don’t you?” Without waiting for a response, she wearily climbed the stairs, grateful for her own room and somewhere to lay her head. April pulled her boots off but didn’t even bother to remove her clothes. She dropped onto the bed facedown and let her aching muscles slump in exhaustion. Right before she closed her eyes, she wondered what Morgan could have possibly done with the money.

  Margaret prepared a tray with hot tea and toast with a bowl of oatmeal and placed the tray on the dumbwaiter. Her daughters were busy attending to chores. Louise was at the market for tonight’s supper, and Natalie was cleaning the Wingates’ room. May had taken Willard out for a visit with their daughter and grandchildren.

  Margaret carefully climbed the stairs to the end of the hallway where she unloaded the tray onto a cart Louise had left there. She almost hated to knock on April’s door. The poor dear had been through so much. Certainly life had been an adventure for her since arriving in Montana. Margaret had promised Josh she’d watch over April until Josh returned, and she intended to keep her promise as best she could.

  Margaret knocked softly, and April answered the door, looking less enthusiastic than the person Margaret had come to know. April’s eyes were swollen—from crying or lack of sleep, Margaret wasn’t sure. “Good morning, April. I’ve brought a little nourishment for you.” April murmured hello, then waved her arm for her to enter.

  “Are you feeling rested? As if I even need to ask. One look at you and I know the answer.” April was still dressed in her dirty jeans and shirt, and Margaret made a clicking sound and shook her head. “Have a seat over there next to the dressing table.” Margaret rolled the tea cart next to it, lifted the teapot cozy, and began pouring the steaming brew into a china cup.

  April watched and accepted the cup of tea. “Miss Margaret . . . why do you treat me so well? I’m certainly not worth all your attention.”

  Margaret lifted her eyes from the tray and looked at April. “Oh, but you are, my dear. Everyone has value and worth. Just look at what you did. If you hadn’t been along on that route yesterday, we may have lost Leon and Morgan. And you drove that stage safely to Lewistown.”

  “I don’t know . . . I only did what anyone would have done.” April sipped her tea.

  Margaret adjusted the spectacles on her face before responding. “I don’t believe that for one moment. You kept your head and were able to think clearly about what to do, and you gave support to Lenora. I think that was God-ordained.”

  “Mmm . . . don’t count on that, Miss Margaret. I still didn’t return with the strongbox full of money, only the mail. So I’m afraid that I’m still going to be beholden to you awhile longer. I’ll understand if you want me to look for another place to stay.” She reached for the toast and took a small bite.

  “You’ll do no such thing. I thought the sheriff said no one made off with the money?”

  “That’s true. They didn’t, but I don’t know what became of it. I guess we’ll have to wait until Morgan wakes up and tells us.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do.” Margaret reassured April with a quick hug. “I wanted to personally thank you for giving Louise just the right push that she needed with her appearance. She would never listen to her mama. Since you took her in hand, Louise has a bounce in her step and a smile most of the time now. I wish I knew if the kind doctor was really interested in her.” Margaret knew she couldn’t interfere, but she wanted to see her daughters happy before she died.

  April shrugged. “Time will tell. We mustn’t let her run after him. He has to see what he’s missing.”

  “Spoken like someone who’s had some experience with love.” Margaret’s interest piqued, but she simply opened the curtains and pretended to look out at the street below.

  “Only a little, yet enough to know that I forced my love on someone who had a hard time saying no, but he loved another,” April blurted out.

  Margaret jerked around to look at April, beginning now to understand what made April tick. “April, I’m so sorry.”

  April tossed her hair. “Don’t be. I’m finally over him now, but I won’t be letting that happen again.”

  Margaret watched as April added sugar to the oatmeal and poured cream over the mixture. Changing the subject, she asked, “How did the riding lesson go with Jane?”

  “Ha! It was really something, I’ll tell you. I’ve not had much experience with children, but she can be a little conniving.”

  “I thought as much. I believe Cynthia needs to be firmer with her. Tell me about Wes. Was he good with her?”

  April squirmed in her chair. “To a fault he was. He was very tender and encouraging with her, and she caught on quickly.”

  “Were you able to get to know Wes a little better?” Margaret watched April’s face for clues, but she stared down at her bowl of oatmeal.

  “You might say that . . . but I hardly think we’re a match just because we share a common love of horses. I already told you my father would never approve.” April stirred the oatmeal before scooping a spoonful to her mouth. “This is so good.”

  Margaret wouldn’t be deterred. “You’re very lovely, April, and I know he’s attracted to you. So what did he say to you? That he wanted to court you?”

  April smacked her lips, then blotted them with a napkin. “He did more than that—he kissed me!”

  Margaret pretended shock before suppressing a smile. She poured another cup of tea for April. “Did you like his kiss?”

  “Miss Margaret, do you really think you should be asking me that?”

  Margaret smiled and said, “Probably not, but I’m an old lady with nothing else to be concerned about except other people’s welfare. And Wes and you, my dear April, are at the top of my list.”

  April gave her a funny look. “I suggest you take me off your list. I couldn’t care one whit what you do about Wes. He hasn’t two pennies to rub together and lives in a run-down ranch on a few meager acres.”

  Margaret looked at her sharply. “May I remind you that you don’t have two pennies to rub together either?” she said, poking April gently in the side with her cane. “If it wasn’t for the kindness of Wes, you wouldn’t have even had a clean dress to wear.”

  April blushed to the roots of her blonde head. “If it wasn’t for Wes, I wouldn’t have lost my boots and belt to a spoiled child either. My situation is temporary and you know it,” she snapped back.

  Margaret walked to the door and opened it. “Forgive me if I was a bit too inquisitive. I’ll leave you to finish your breakfast now. But everything in this world is temporary, April. Tr
y to remember that.”

  April sighed, her shoulders lifting in resignation. “How well I know that after yesterday . . . but thank you for breakfast, Miss Margaret.”

  Margaret nodded stiffly, knowing that she’d been too meddlesome, then slipped through the doorway and down the hall. In her own way, she wanted to help April be the best she could be. If only she’d see Wes for the nice young man that he is . . .

  19

  The clear October sky beckoned to Wes while he was out mending breaks along the property line. He was grateful for the barbed wire that kept his few steers from wandering off, but he’d snagged a hole in his shirt as he did the repair, and he had a small cut on his finger for his trouble despite his leather gloves. The weather was still warm but comfortable, and the brilliant sun was high in the sky.

  He’d been working longer than he realized. He paused, removed his hat, and wiped his brow with his handkerchief, gazing at the trees along the edge of the mountain ridge. They were just beginning to change from green to a hint of subtle gold beauty. The wind stirred through their boughs, making them sway like dancers along the horizon.

  Fall was Wes’s favorite time of year. He loved the pungent smell of firewood burning on a leisurely afternoon. He enjoyed sitting on the front porch, a cup of coffee in his hand, or raking leaves while the delicious smells of simmering soup and corn bread in the oven tantalized his senses. In fact, he looked forward to the day he would be sharing the scene in his mind with someone close to his heart.

  From the looks of things, it wouldn’t be April. Wes felt a rock in his chest when he recalled what she’d said about the way he lived. He knew he was frugal and hadn’t worried about keeping the place up. But now that she’d pointed it out, he realized that he’d neglected the ranch too much. Instead, he’d spent most of his time training horses and, if he was honest, at the saloon in Lewistown.

  But that was before Wes started seeing life differently. He was grateful for the change in his heart. He’d always thought no one would look at him as a possible love interest in the first place. He knew he wasn’t what a body would call handsome, so he’d relied on his wit and humor to get attention from the ladies. Except he had to admit it hadn’t worked in the past . . . or at least not for any long-term relationships with the opposite sex. And it sure hadn’t worked on April.

  This week he’d taken a critical look around him and decided that his ranch had little to be desired in the way of welcoming a woman, so he’d gradually started cleaning up the place. Since he tended to get distracted easily, he made a list of things that needed to be done. He removed the pile of extra lumber from a repair he’d made on the porch last year and discarded items that until now lay covered in tall grass. He needed to replace some shingles and knew a trip to the hardware store for supplies was necessary. He knew nothing of how to make his house inviting. Maybe he should ask Juliana’s advice about the inside of his home when she and Josh returned. Even Josh had asked her for suggestions on building his kitchen before the terrible fire.

  Thankfully, Wes’s place had been spared from the fire. Had that been just a short time ago? It seemed like years now. He smiled, thinking how God had given back so much to Josh after all his losses. He wished Josh were here to give him insight into his sister—what she was like and what made her tick. There you go again, Wes, thinking she’s gonna give you the time of day. Would you stay if you had a sprawling cattle ranch in Colorado?

  Wes just shook his head and gathered up his tools. This kind of thinking was getting him nowhere. He threw his tool bag across Dakota’s back and headed back to the house to change his shirt before riding into town. He planned on taking the horse Morgan had ordered for his wife since he was going into town anyway and could save Morgan a trip.

  He wondered when April would be going back to Colorado. Maybe he’d run into her somewhere around town. Best not to get my hopes up. She made it very clear that she wouldn’t live in Mon–tana. Maybe she has a beau back in Colorado waiting on her return. That’d make perfect sense since she was pretty and well-to-do.

  He gave Dakota some oats to eat while he washed his face and hands. He stared at his reflection in the mirror as he patted his face dry. Just an average cowboy with sun-streaked hair and light stubble on his jaw, with a tinge of sunburn on an already tanned face in spite of wearing his hat. A slow smile spread across his face. He may not be the best-looking man around, but he was certain April had shared the spark between them when he’d kissed her.

  He stopped, recalling the taste of her sweet lips. Had his breath smelled okay? He sure hoped so. Wes tried to be scrupulous about that because of all the times he’d smelled alcohol on his dad’s breath.

  Time to get going. He slicked his hair down, then donned a clean flannel shirt over his undershirt, quickly tucking it in with a cinch of his leather belt. He suddenly remembered that he needed to check on an order he’d placed at the general store too. He sighed. His list was growing. After he delivered the mare to Morgan and went by the hardware store, he’d check on little Jane before going home. Maybe she’d be ready for another lesson, and Cynthia should be home from work by then.

  The town was bustling more than normal in the late afternoon when Wes rode Dakota down the street to the depot, the mare trailing behind. He wasn’t expecting the stagecoach to be parked outside. He assumed Morgan was going to be gone most of the week, but he must have misunderstood him. Before he could tie the reins around the hitching post, Billy came running out and in a breathless voice told him Morgan had been shot.

  “What do you mean, Billy?” Wes asked, taking the steps two at a time.

  “He and Leon was robbed! Somehow the bandits knew he was carrying a strongbox with the money from the bank.” Billy’s eyes were big and animated.

  Wes reached past Billy for the door. “Is Morgan all right?”

  “He’s going to be okay,” Billy answered.

  “Let me talk to Leon then,” Wes said, striding through the door. When Billy didn’t follow him and was quiet, he turned around. “Well, what are you waiting for? Tell me where they are—are they upstairs in the apartment?”

  “No.” Billy looked down at the floor, his voice choking. “Leon didn’t make it.”

  Wes stopped dead in his tracks. “What? Leon was shot too?” There was a moment of silence. “Are you telling me that Leon is dead?”

  Billy’s brown eyes misted as he stared up at Wes. “That’s what I’m telling you,” he said, his face solemn.

  “Morgan’s at Dr. Mark’s place,” a voice answered. A woman walked down the stairs and stood before him. “And you are?”

  “Wes Owen, ma’am,” he said, removing his hat. “You must be Lenora. I’ve heard some good things about you.”

  “I’m glad to meet you, even under these sad circumstances. I’m about to go over to see my husband. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

  “Mind if I come along?” Wes’s fingers absentmindedly rubbed the felt on his hat. “I brought Morgan’s mare for you.”

  Lenora pulled her shawl around her shoulders and shrugged. “Suit yourself,” she said, then turned to Billy. “I may not be back until late. I’m not sure when the doctor will let him come home.”

  “I’ll stay right here, Miss Lenora. Tell Morgan not to worry about a thang!”

  Lenora reached out and tousled his head affectionately. “I’m sure he’ll thank you himself when he returns.”

  Wes followed Lenora, then pulled Billy to the side and spoke quietly. “Billy, think you could take Dakota’s saddle off? I’ll just leave him here and walk with Lenora. Take Lenora’s mare to the barn out back. She can take a closer look at the mare when she’s got her mind on it.”

  Lenora was polite, but they talked little on their short walk to Mark’s office. Wes thought her gentle personality seemed well-suited to Morgan’s. When Wes pushed open the door, a bell jangled, and he was surprised to see Miss Margaret and April talking with Mark.

  Mark walked toward Lenora. “Morgan’s
doing well and asking for you. He’s still weak and spiked a fever during the night. Beth is in there tending to him now.”

  Lenora’s shoulders drooped in obvious relief. “I’m so glad to hear that, Mark.”

  “You can go on in and see him.” Mark gave her a nudge.

  “I just want to thank April for her quick thinking. If she hadn’t been driving that stage, I don’t know what I would’ve done,” Lenora said, reaching out to take April’s hand. “You’re the kind of woman we need here in Montana.”

  April blinked her eyes and seemed embarrassed but squeezed Lenora’s hand. “Just doing what came naturally to me.”

  “Maybe, but you are our hero, like it or not.” Miss Margaret thumped her cane against the floor for emphasis and winked at Wes.

  “Excuse me,” Lenora murmured, and slipped past them to the room where her husband lay.

  Wes stood as if his feet were nailed to the floor. He was seeing a different side of April. Softer . . . more caring. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised, but he was. What did he think—that she was always looking after herself and speaking her mind? Well . . . maybe so.

  “Well, boy howdy! I guess this deserves a celebration of sorts.” Wes captured April’s hand in his, pumping it in a firm handshake. “You’ll have to tell me all about it.” She was the picture of creamy churned butter in her beige homespun dress, which gave her a more feminine look than the jeans she’d worn to his ranch. Wes found her delightful and wanted to crush her to him in an embrace. Could she feel the tension in his body? He swallowed hard and blinked to clear his thoughts.

  April’s gaze never left his face. “You’ll have to pick up the afternoon edition of the Gazette and read all about it. I’ve said about all I have to say.”

  “You’re being modest, April, but if you folks don’t mind, I have other patients to check on today,” Mark said. “Morgan’s in good hands with Beth and Lenora. Perhaps tomorrow he’ll be up to going home when he’s a little stronger.”