When she looked up, he glanced at the bucket then quirked one brow. Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I couldn’t possibly eat all this, and now I’ll have some for later.”
“Sounds like a wise plan.” He pushed the plate of rolls toward her. “I need some coffee after that delicious meal.”
When he looked around the café as if he was searching for the waitress, she dropped her thigh bone into the bucket, imagining the soup she would make from the leftover bones, and placed the remaining rolls on top.
Gabe’s dark eyes glistened with amusement. “I hope the waitress doesn’t think you were so hungry that you ate the bones.”
Lara darted a glance at the plump woman who was waiting on another table. Gabe tossed some money down beside his plate. “Shall we go?”
“What about your coffee?”
He stood and waved his hand. “I can always get some later, unless of course, you’d care for some pie.”
“No, but thank you for offering.” She allowed him to escort her outside, grateful that he didn’t embarrass her for taking the chicken. Now she was eager to make her getaway, lest he offer her a ride. She didn’t want to like Gabe Coulter, but he’d done nothing so far to make her dislike him, other than being overly insistent about things.
“I’ll go fetch the buggy. Would you like to wait here or walk to the livery with me?”
She looked up in his handsome face. If only he would spend some time outside, doing some physical labor to help him lose a little weight and allow the sun to darken his skin, he’d be close to perfect. Her eyes widened at that thought. She had no business thinking such things about him.
She ducked her head to avoid his questioning gaze. “I allowed you to buy me dinner, but I insist on walking home.”
“You insist?” He chuckled, making her look up. “That’s my line.”
Lara couldn’t help returning his smile. “Be that as it may, I’ll be walking home. Thank you for the lovely dinner. It was delicious.” She turned and started moving away, but he quickly caught up.
“It’s just plain crazy for you to walk. I’m bored half to death here. You’d be doing me a favor.”
She shook her head and looked around, hoping to see Jo. When her gaze landed on the heavyset man who’d told her about Tom’s death walking toward her, she took a step backward. What was he doing here again?
The man’s gaze darted apprehensively to Gabe and back to her. This time he had a different horse—a fine-looking buckskin with a black mane and tail. “Good day, Mrs. Talbot.” His gaze shifted toward Gabe. “Mr…. uh…”
“Coulter. Gabe Coulter.” He held out his hand, and the man shook it.
Lara wasn’t certain, but she thought she’d seen a spark of amusement in Gabe’s eyes for a moment, but she failed to understand why.
“I’m lucky to run into you here in town, Mrs. Talbot.” He tipped his hat. “Sorry to bother you again, ma’am, but my boss was mighty displeased that you refused to come to Kansas City to meet him.”
Of all the nerve! She stiffened her back and glared at him. “I don’t owe your employer anything, Mr. Jones, especially my valuable time. It’s quite rude of him to expect me to travel so far to visit a stranger. If he wants to see me so badly, why doesn’t he come here?”
He looked at Gabe, almost as if he feared the man. Was it possible the business Mr. Jones had with her was of a private nature?
He cleared his throat. “Well, anyway. He weren’t too happy. But we found out that your husband had this here horse stabled at the livery. My boss figured you’d want it.”
An explosion of hope burst in Lara’s heart before she doused it with a bucket of common sense. This wasn’t the old nag Tom had ridden away from home on over a year ago. This fine animal was young and strong. The horse danced sideways as a dog barked nearby. Lara’s gaze landed on the worn saddle. Her heart jolted again as she stepped forward. There, engraved on the back corner of the leather skirt, were two overlapping T’s—Tom’s brand. She rubbed her fingers over it.
“Looks like your husband left you a fine horse, Lara.” Gabe stroked the animal’s neck. “You’ll have a good chance in the race with him—if you decide to ride.”
Could it really be true? Dare she hope?
Grandpa had said that the Lord would provide. She spun around to face Mr. Jones. “You’re certain this was my husband’s horse?”
“Yes, ma’am. The livery man talked with him when he first arrived, and they swapped names.” He coughed then cleared his throat. “Took him awhile to realize that the horse’s owner was the man who got hisself shot in the alley.”
“So this really was Tom’s horse?” Lara patted the horse’s golden neck, a bit stunned at the realization that God had answered her prayers for the first time in a long while.
The man nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” His thick lips lifted in a tentative smile.
She accepted the reins and looked at Gabe. “What a surprise!”
His wide smile warmed her heart. “Yes, it is. Do you ride?”
“Yes! I rode a lot when I was young.”
“Can you manage the reins with one hand?”
She nodded. Gabe took the bucket from her and hooked the handle over the saddle horn. Then he stepped behind her and took hold of her waist, surprising Lara to the core, and lifted her onto the horse. She quickly arranged her skirts for modesty and found herself unable to stop smiling. “I can’t believe this. It’s such an unexpected surprise.”
Delight brightened Gabe’s expression.
“I sure don’t need that buggy ride now. Thank you for dinner, Mr. Coulter, and thank you so much, Mr. Jones, for bringing Tom’s horse all this way. I sincerely appreciate that.” She waved and turned the horse for home, excited to tell Grandpa their prayers had been answered.
Chapter 10
Jo sat on the well-cushioned sofa in Alma Lou’s parlor, elbows on her knees, and stared at the colorful Persian carpet. Saying good-bye to her best friend was harder than she’d expected.
Alma Lou bolted upright on the sofa. “I know! You can stay here with me.”
Jo’s heart jolted. “You’d let me do that?”
“Of course, but it would only be for a few months. Once I’m married you would need to find your own place.” Alma Lou clutched her hands to her bosom. “Oh, it would be such fun. You could help me prepare for the wedding.”
Could she do that? How would she support herself? The only work she’d done other than gardening was trap and skin rabbits, hunt, fish, cook over a campfire, and help Lara with the laundry. She’d worked with the horses before Grandpa lost his land, but no one would hire a woman for such work. And could she leave her family?
Yes, she actually could. She longed to be free of Lara’s bossy dominance, but leaving Grandpa and little Michael would be much harder. What if she never saw them again?
“What are you thinking? I thought you’d be more excited by my offer.”
She shrugged. “Just wondering if I could find work and if I could actually leave my family.”
“You’ll leave them once you find a man to marry, and with your pretty looks, I doubt it will be too much longer.”
Jo wrinkled her nose. “I’m not sure I want to marry—at least not yet. I want to do something fun, go on an adventure, to experience life before I settle down to being a wife and mother.”
Alma Lou’s eyes grew bigger with each word Jo said. She shook her head. “I’ll never understand you. Why, there is no greater adventure than meeting the man who is the only one for you, getting to know him, and planning your future together. Courting is an adventure all its own.”
Jo rose and walked to the large picture window. Her friend was right. She would never understand. Alma Lou’s parents had been married over thirty years, and as far as she knew, had a happy marriage. Jo’s parents died when she was only five, and she barely remembered them, much less had their marriage as an example to follow. Tom and Lara’s marriage had been a joke. She’d never told her si
ster about the times Tom had tried to get her to take a walk with him or when he’d captured her alone and stole a kiss or two. How was a woman to find a good man when she didn’t know what to look for? If only she could find someone like her grandpa—not old, but loving and kindhearted.
A knock at the door drew Alma Lou from the parlor. She squealed, and Jo walked to the foyer to see what was happening.
“Mama!” Alma Lou hurried to the bottom of the winding staircase and shouted up, “Miss Moss is here for my dress fitting.”
Alma Lou spun toward Jo, her brown eyes dancing. “You get to see my wedding dress.”
Forcing a smile, Jo nodded. Seeing the dress would only reinforce that she wouldn’t be here for the wedding—unless she could figure out a way to stay. She’d leave right now if it wouldn’t hurt her friend’s feelings.
An hour later, Jo was kicking herself for not leaving sooner. She’d sat in the corner, watching Miss Moss and Alma Lou’s mother fuss over her, pinning and rearranging and gushing about how lovely she was. When Miss Moss packed up, Jo gave Alma Lou a hug, with a promise to let her know soon if she planned on staying with her, then she slipped out the door.
When she cleared the house, she glanced at the sun. It was setting a bit later these days, so she could piddle around town another half hour before she needed to head home. She’d never been a fearful person, but with all the strangers in and around Caldwell lately, she didn’t want to be caught alone on the road after dark.
She turned onto one of the streets in the business district and moseyed past the shops. Even on a good day, it would be hard for a woman her age to find work in Caldwell, but with so many people in town, she doubted anyone had an opening for help. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to take a look at the corkboards in the general stores. Maybe one of the wealthier families needed a nanny or housekeeper. Caring for children wasn’t her favorite thing to do, Michael not included, but if it meant she could stay in Caldwell, it might be worth the trouble.
Jo paused in front of a dress shop to admire a beautiful burgundy gown with ivory accents. Wide ivory-colored buttons ran down the front with matching cuffs trimmed in lace. The front of the skirt opened, revealing a frilly underskirt with more lace and ribbons. She sighed. What would she look like in such a creation?
“A brighter shade of red is more suitable to your coloring.”
She spun at the masculine voice and was stunned to silence at the decidedly handsome man whose attention was solely focused on her. His fancy camel-colored sack coat and vest rested on a wide set of shoulders. Sandy brown hair and deep blue eyes accentuated his comely features.
“Ah, now that I see you full on, I’ve changed my mind. Blue is definitely your color, to match your lovely eyes. A royal blue or perhaps cornflower would go best.”
Jo’s cheeks felt warm, more than likely because her bonnet rested on her back instead of her head. “And who are you?”
“My apologies. I’m Mark Hillborne, of the Hillbornes of St. Louis.”
He stated his name as if it should hold some meaning to her, but she’d never been to St. Louis. “I’m Jo—Joline Jensen.”
“A lovely name for a beautiful woman.”
She’d received many compliments on her beauty, so she knew a charmer when she saw one, but few rogues had intrigued her like this man. She’d guess he was a few years older than Lara, maybe twenty-three or -four. “I haven’t seen you around town before. Are you here for the land rush?”
“That I am. I assume you live here?”
“For now,” she mumbled as she turned back toward the dress. Suddenly she swirled around again. “How do you know what colors would look good on me? That seems an odd thing for a gentleman of your age to know. Or is that your usual opening comment when you meet a woman you don’t know?”
He smiled and looked even more appealing. “My family is in the general store business, so I’ve worked there my whole life. My mother insisted I learn which colors look nice with the various complexions in order to help women with their fabric selections.”
“I’ve never known a man who was interested in fabrics.”
He leaned casually against the building, crossing one leg over the other. “Maybe interested isn’t the proper word.” He ran his thumb and forefinger down his lapel. “I do appreciate fine clothing, and I learned what I had to about fabric in order to assist our customers. Wouldn’t you prefer to purchase a dress that enhances your beauty rather than diminishes it?”
Jo blew a puff of air from her nose. As if she’d ever own a store-bought dress.
“What is that look I see in your expression?”
She turned away from the window and started walking. She might just as well leave this dandy with a fair memory than let him know the state of her financial poverty, not that he probably couldn’t tell by her patched dress and bare feet.
“Wait! What did I say?”
She shook her head. “Nothin’. I just need to be getting home.” Lara would need help with dinner since her hand was still bandaged.
“Miss Jensen, please wait.” He tugged on her arm, not really giving her a choice but to stop or make a scene. And with hundreds of people on the street, it would be a big scene.
“What?”
He smiled. “Would you allow me to escort you home?”
Jo shook her head. “It’s too far. By the time you walked back to town, it would be dark and you’d probably get lost.”
He blinked, as if not used to being turned down—or maybe her comment about him getting lost challenged his masculinity. “I can hire a buggy and get back in plenty of time before dark, unless, of course, your home is an extraordinary distance from here.”
Jo kept walking, hoping he’d take the hint. When she saw a ragged land rush announcement, posted on a wall, she paused and read over the information once more. Just imagine, one hundred and sixty acres—all for one family…
Mr. Hillborne stopped beside Jo. “I’m participating in the land rush. Are you planning to?”
She shook her head. “I wish I could, but I’m not old enough.”
He frowned. “You’re not? That surprises me.”
She stood a bit straighter. Most people recognized she was still somewhat young, even though she was old enough to marry—if she wanted to. Alma Lou was only sixteen, and a few months older than Jo.
“I’m hoping my grandpa can ride, but he’s been sick lately.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you.” Jo turned toward her charming admirer. The man truly was handsome. She stole a long peek at him while he was scanning the announcement. “So, do you have a fast horse?”
“No horse at all.”
Jo blinked. “But how will you get land if you don’t have a horse to ride? You don’t have one of those odd-looking contraptions with the big wheel, do you?”
“You mean a bicycle?” He laughed. “No, I wouldn’t be caught dead on one of those neck-breaking things. The first big rock you run over, you’re likely to end up flat on your face in the dirt.”
Jo smiled at the image in her mind. “I suppose they would be difficult to ride.”
“Not so much on a smooth city street, but I fail to see how anyone could have success with one on the open prairie.”
“I feel the same way. Give me a fast horse any day.” She started walking and repeated her earlier question. “How are you going to get land if you don’t have a horse?”
“I’m riding the train and plan to get a plot in town at the Guthrie Station and open the first general store there. No horse is needed since the town plots are near the depot.”
Jo had to admit his plan sounded like a good one. “I’m sure you’ll do well.”
His eyes glowed as he basked in her praise. “I’ll need employees. Why don’t you come and work for me?”
Her heart took flight for a moment before landing back at its roost. “That’s kind of you to offer, but I’m hoping to find something here in Caldwell. All of my friends are
here, and I don’t want to leave.”
“I see. Well, I wish you good luck in your search, and if you ever get down to Guthrie, be sure to look me up.”
“I will.” Jo smiled and glanced down the street. The sun had sunk lower than she’d expected. “I’d better go. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Hillborne.”
“It’s Mark.” He took her hand, bent, and kissed it. “I have a feeling we’ll meet again, Joline.”
Lara worked hard to stifle her grin as she rode into the yard in front of the soddy. The female goats rushed to the side of the fence and bleated a greeting, hoping for a handout, but Bad Billy only lifted his head, stared at her for a moment, then returned to eating.
She dismounted and patted the gelding’s neck. “You’re a good horse, aren’t you, boy?” She combed the tangles from his black mane with the fingers of her left hand, wishing she had some grooming tools. She’d have to be satisfied with rubbing him down with a burlap sack.
Lara stared at the trail to town. Jo would be jealous that she’d had to walk home when she learned about the horse, but Lara had no idea how long her sister would be visiting. She couldn’t wait until Jo was finished, because she had many things to do to prepare for their move. She shook her head, still amazed that the ride from Caldwell had taken only ten minutes instead of the normal thirty-minute walk, and she hadn’t even galloped the horse. If she needed to get to town in a hurry, she now had the means.
She walked around the horse, checking his legs and hooves. At first, she’d thought there had to be something wrong with the animal for Mr. Jones to hand him over to her without expecting payment of some sort, but his tale about the horse belonging to Tom must be true. The initials on the saddle proved it.
Grandpa could ride in the land run now, and she knew just what he would say when he heard her story about how she’d inherited the horse: “Praise the Lord!” And then he would tell her he knew God would provide for them. And God had provided. Guilt nibbled at her like a mouse at a loaf of bread because her faith hadn’t been stronger.
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