Thankful for the Cowboy

by Mary Connealy

  Oh, forget it. She was staying in the house.

  Shaking her head, she said, “It’s been a long night. And I have to get up early to put the turkey on. You’re right, let’s leave off arguing for another day. I’m sure we won’t run out of things to yell about.”

  “That’s fine, but I don’t know what you’re yelling at me for. I couldn’t do a blasted thing with those two headlong kids.”

  “Did you even know they were interested in each other?”

  “Nope. Were they interested in each other?”

  “You mean, did they realize in ten minutes they were interested in each other and decide to get married that fast? What a horrible thought, to make such a decision on an impulse.”

  She took a moment to remember how much thought she’d given to marrying Dougal. About none.

  “I don’t mean a thing. I had no idea about nuthin’.”

  Which sounded like most men. And, in fairness, probably most women.

  On a sigh, she turned and marched to the house. Conscious of not wanting to tip over again. His hands on her had made his comment about bed a little too real.

  A little too interesting.

  What she needed to do tomorrow was spend the day being thankful that he’d move out of here without delay.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tom was staying for the winter.

  He’d been evicted from his own house.

  The youngsters hadn’t exactly invited him to come home with them, now had they?

  He shook his head as he rose the next morning. He heard Lauren moving around out in the kitchen. She had a large Dutch oven and had the turkey all ready to go last night. He knew little to nothing about roasting a turkey but it figured it’d be like roasting a chicken or grouse, only it’d take longer.

  He dressed, eager to get out there and…get yelled at some more?

  On that thought, he slowed down and even considered sitting on his bedside in the small bedroom and reading his Bible for a stretch.

  Before he could decide whether he was showing good and decent faith for his Heavenly Father on this special day of giving thanks, or hiding out like some cowardly outlaw, he heard the other bedroom door open.

  Duncan’s deep voice said, “Good morning, Ma.”

  He’d suggest they read the Bible together later. For now, it was safe to go out.

  “Good morning, Lauren, Duncan. Happy Thanksgiving. I’ll go see to morning chores.”

  “I’ll come along.” Duncan reached for his coat.

  Lauren, bending over the fire, called, “I’ll have breakfast ready when you get back.”

  She wasn’t yelling at all. Then he was outside and safe. The barn was only a few paces away and the chickens roosted there.

  As Tom opened the heavy barn door, Duncan said, “You ought to marry Ma.”

  Tom turned to look at Duncan and slammed the swinging door right in his face.

  “What? What made you say that?” Tom slapped his hand on his aching face, and that had the side benefit of covering his face. Heaven knew what Duncan might see.

  Duncan laughed. Then looked closer, maybe between Tom’s fingers. The smile shrank, then turned to a scowl. “My ma’s a fine woman. Why did me saying you should marry her upset you so much?”

  Despite Duncan being a fully grown man, he was still a boy. A boy who loved his mother. That alone kept Tom from blurting out some fool thing.

  And because the only thing he could think of was foolish. About kissing and Tom’s own confusion, he took the time to think…something he’d done too little of lately.

  “Your mom is one of the finest women I’ve ever known. B-but…” Then he remembered, “I think your ma isn’t past grieving for your pa, Duncan. It’s not a good time for her to be thinking about a new husband. And I’d never push my attentions on her when she’s not ready.”

  Duncan nodded a bit too long. Studying Tom’s expression. Finally, with no further nonsense, he went into the barn. Tom resisted the temptation to swing the door back shut with Duncan inside and himself outside, then run for the tall grass.

  Instead he followed Duncan inside, wondering what in the world had put that thought into the boy’s head.

  And too afraid to ask for fear Duncan might answer, and it might be an answer Tom didn’t want to hear.

  Lauren spent a lonely morning preparing a feast. Niall and Megan would be back to eat. She was sure of it. She half expected them to show up for breakfast but, on further thought, it was no surprise they didn’t.

  Be thankful.

  She repeated that thought to herself often.

  After breakfast, the men had offered to help cook. But she didn’t want their help. She politely (more or less) threw them out of the house. There was plenty they could do.

  Um…set the table…which wasn’t needed for hours. Bring in more chips to burn though she already had a whole lot of them.

  All right, fine, she couldn’t think of anything else.

  But she’d gotten rid of them so she had time alone with her thoughts.

  Her oldest son was gone. Maybe forever. It felt as if her throat was swelling, her eyes burned with unshed tears as she prayed.

  I’m thankful. Conall is a healthy, intelligent, strong man. Of course, he wants to go out into the world.

  Look at Tom. He’d taken off from his family and hadn’t come back until his ma died and his father was near death.

  That didn’t help. A single, hot tear rolled down her face. Conall, her first-born.

  Shaking her head against the waste of salt and water, her hands sticky with bread dough she was punching down, she swiped the back of her wrist across her eyes, then got back to being thankful.

  I’m thankful my second son found a good woman to marry. A very young woman, granted. And it didn’t appear as if Niall had given it a great deal of thought and, despite them living near, Niall was now lost to her in a fundamental way. His first thoughts, his first concern would now be for his wife. And that was as it should be.

  She wanted her son to find happiness and he and Megan would be happy. A ma was supposed to cry over her son getting married, and then let him go with her blessing.

  A broken sob escaped her throat but only one.

  She stiffened her spine against the foolish hurt and shaped the rolls with quick, practiced skill. Then spread a cloth over them and sat them near the fire to raise.

  I’m thankful for Duncan. He’s still here and young and loyal and wise.

  And he wanted his own homestead. When Niall talked of it being legal to homestead if you were married, Lauren had seen Duncan’s eyes light up. With Fort Niobrara so close now, he could probably go round up a wife with little trouble. She’d be lucky if he waited until spring. And every piece of land claimed was farther and farther away from her.

  Selfish, selfish woman. This time the tears came faster. She was filling the pie crusts with pumpkin and it was a good thing a pie needed a little salt.

  I’m thankful for Rory. A good boy who was growing like prairie grass. But she had her youngest son with her…for a time.

  And as for Tom—she was furious with him for not putting a stop to this impulsive marriage. And at the exact same moment she blamed him, she knew it wasn’t his fault. She was just so shocked, and she couldn’t exactly start yelling at Niall and Megan. She wanted to get things off on the right foot with Megan. She now had a daughter, and she wouldn’t begin being a mother-in-law by being unpleasant.

  But she needed someone to…to…to talk to.

  Struck by that thought her tears ceased. She really did need someone to talk to. And not just about this. She needed someone who wasn’t her child. Someone she didn’t have to be a leader with. The adviser and disciplinarian.

  How long since she’d been able to really tell someone what she thought and how she felt. All her fears had to be hidden to keep her children’s spirits up.

  Oh, they knew she’d been worried about water, but they’d had no idea of the true depth of
the disaster that was looming.

  Except, of course, Conall must have at least realized it was very serious. She couldn’t quite believe he’d just sent Tom out here with two wagon loads of windmill parts.

  Had her son really left, not entirely to strike out on his own, but hunting for a way to help Lauren save this ranch?

  And wasn’t that an even bigger reason why she needed a grown up to share her burdens? So she didn’t have to fight to keep everything inside and perhaps let it leak out in small ways that had driven her son off in his quest to help.

  Her son had left because of her.

  He’d left to save her.

  It was only because she was so tired of the strange emotions that were swamping her, that she didn’t break down and cry again.

  But she would really like to talk this over with someone. With Tom. A burden shared is a burden halved. Her ma had said that. And Lauren hadn’t shared a bit of her burdens, not with an adult, since Dougal had died.

  She tucked the pies into her fireplace, shifting and building up the fire so it wouldn’t burn but would stay good and hot.

  The turkey filled the house with delicious, warm aromas. Her bread needed to rise a bit more. She’d timed it so it would go in when the turkey came out. The rolls would be warm and perfect by the time she’d carved the turkey and made gravy. For now, she had a free moment to tidy the kitchen and set the table for…heavens, there’d be no more of them than every other day, but it would be very different.

  Setting the table, she put out butter and jelly, bowls for the potatoes and the last of the fall squash that she’d baked with sugar and butter. She had a platter for the turkey ready when it was done. All of it was almost ready except for baking time.

  As she inspected the turkey again for signs of it being done, the door opened and Tom came in leading the way. He smiled and she managed a smile back as the whole family trouped in, Niall and Megan included.

  She was determined to remember all she had to be thankful for. She wouldn’t forget windmills.

  Tom had saved her herd.

  Amid much chatter, the family took a moment to say thank you, then dug into the meal.

  The door slammed open.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Ma!” Conall swept into the cabin. That was the only word for it. He came in with a cold wind and all the energy of the wild west. He came fast, straight for Lauren.

  She jumped to her feet, her heart lifting as if it had wings to see her son, the image of his pa. Blond hair tinged with red, blue eyes and a smile that came straight from his heart.

  “Conall.” She rushed toward him.

  “Hi, Ma.” He caught her around the waist. “I’m home.”

  “You’re home.” She buried her face against his shoulder as he lifted her and swung her in a circle.

  “Oh, Conall, how I’ve—”

  Someone else came in and Conall plunked Lauren down on her feet, let her go so fast she stumbled backward and charged back toward the door and the shy young woman who’d come with him.

  “I brought my wife.”

  Lauren wasn’t sure she could take one more surprise.

  Tom braced himself to catch her if she collapsed.

  Then Conall came to the young woman’s side and slid an arm around her and guided her forward.

  “Ma, meet Cindy.” He grinned down at her and Cindy blushed and smiled bright enough to shame the sun. “My wife.”

  “Cindy?” Lauren extended both hands and Cindy reached out to take them. Neither woman was quite sure what to do.

  In fact, the whole family seemed a bit frozen as if the surprise was just too much.

  Tom decided to take charge. He bit back a smile to think how Lauren would act if he announced he was taking over. He was a much wiser man than that.

  “We’ve just sat down to a Thanksgiving feast.” He lifted his plate and stepped away from the table. He kicked Rory, he hoped he sneaked that in. “Let Conall and Cindy have a seat at the table.”

  Rory looked mutinous, like he might just grab hold of the table and have to be torn loose.

  Then he shook his head and got up, then grabbed hold of Conall. “Welcome home.”

  That burst some kind of dam and Niall got up. Duncan whooped and jumped at his big brother.

  The whole family was in a snarl, hugging and laughing and welcoming Cindy to the family. Tom gave Megan a look, the two of them hanging back to let the family reunite. Then Tom reached over and poked her.

  “Go on. Meet Cindy. Tell Conall hello. Niall might’ve forgotten he got married.”

  Megan got a strange smile on her face, an intimate kind of smile Tom didn’t really understand. Then she said, “I doubt it. Least ways, not for long.” Then she turned with a different smile, warm and bright, and went straight to Cindy.

  Beneath the din, he heard Megan say the words sister-in-law, then she gave Cindy a hug.

  Tom almost belonged here. Megan definitely did and he was her brother. But he wasn’t sure quite where he fit.

  Tom wasn’t given to delicate feelings but he felt a little left out. He leaned back against the nearest wall, his plate still in hand, and decided there was no sense letting his meal get cold.

  He was well into his second serving, feeling sad for no good reason when everyone calmed down and returned to the table. Rory got his plate and came to lean beside him. Rory grinned up at Tom and suddenly Tom’s mood shifted.

  Maybe he did fit, at least a little.

  The rest of the family fussed over who’d sit and who’d stand. They were two chairs short. And Lauren was stumped because they were two plates short, too.

  Tom finished his meal in a few quick bites.

  He headed for the basin Lauren used to wash dishes, poured some hot water in and, with the soap handy, scrubbed the plate. “I’m done. Maybe Conall and Cindy can share a plate.”

  Finally, everyone was eating. Except Tom, the odd man out again.

  “We stopped at Fort Niobrara and claimed a homestead,” Conall said.

  Niall talked about doing the same.

  “I found your name and the land agent talked about you finding water. We homesteaded on past where you live.” He gave Cindy a sheepish grin. “We were already well and truly married so there was no claiming two, not for us.”

  He reached over and took Cindy’s hand. “But I’m glad we didn’t think of it. I didn’t want to wait another day to marry you.”

  There was much to discuss.

  Tom kept busy. There was meat left on the turkey carcass that Lauren hadn’t picked clean for leftovers, so he did that. Lauren’s gravy dish emptied and there was extra keeping warm by the fire. Tom started washing the pots and pans while he listened to the happy chatter. There were two more sod houses to build, but it might need to wait until spring. They’d have to check to see if the ground was too frozen to cut sod.

  It occurred to Tom that what he really ought to do was leave. He didn’t want to lose his homestead, but the drought that was plaguing Lauren was widespread. He couldn’t dig sod for a house in the winter but he could dig wells. A small circle like that would be thawed by building a fire on the ground. And the frost only went down a few inches right now, and even later, if it went a foot deep, the fire would make digging possible, especially in this sandy soil.

  He could build windmills all winter, then come back and live in his soddy for six months in the summer. In the meantime, there’d be a place for Conall to live…at his house…with Megan and Niall, until they could both build in the spring.

  And there was no need for another strong back. Lauren had four strong sons to work at her side. And two bright, hard-working daughters now.

  Yes, his spirits sank, he’d leave. He’d tell Niall he could finish the windmill they were building by himself. No sense taking Niall and Megan along, especially when they needed to get settled as a married couple. And Megan needed to get acquainted with her new sister.

  It was Thanksgiving. Tom struggled to be thank
ful, and there was plenty of reason for it. Megan was happy and settled, and no doubt safe.

  “We met a man in Fort Niobrara asking after Megan.” Conall’s voice broke into the general, cheerful din of planning and laughter and love.

  “What?” Tom asked. Silence hit the room like a mallet. Everyone looking at Conall, hanging on his every word.

  “He said he was a relative. MacKinnon, he said and he had a heavy Scottish accent. It was so unexpected I didn’t speak to him. He was talking to a man near me. I can’t say I liked the look of him. I remembered how recently you’d come to this country, Megan,” Conall glanced over at Tom and realized how heavy the silence was.

  “Did you tell him we were coming out this way?”

  “I didn’t. Like I said, I didn’t like the way he acted. An arrogant man who seemed to push at everyone he spoke to. And he had several men with him. All with Scottish accents as fresh and strong as the Nebraska wind.”

  Tom didn’t relax, not exactly, but he did start breathing again.

  “But I homesteaded right next to Niall. It was easy to do because the land agent had maps all laid out. I saw that you’d homesteaded here, Tom and Megan’s name is right there beside yours. It would be there for anyone who looked.”

  “Laird MacKinnon.” Megan shuddered.

  “It’s Murdo MacKinnon, Megan. In this country he is no one’s laird, and he won’t be called that by me, nor any of my kin.”

  Nodding, Megan fell silent.

  Niall said fiercely, “He must be a madman to come all the way out here. Why would he leave his clan and his land?”

  “As to that,” Conall went on, “I did a bit of sneaking about.”

  Cindy reached out and clutched his hand. “You shouldn’t have. It wasn’t safe. Those men looked hard and dangerous.”

  Conall, leaned close to her. “I’m sorry that upset you. I’m going to try to never upset you again.”