Reading the Rancher (Cowboys and Angels Book 28)

by Kit Morgan

  “Did you really not read the poem?” Levi Carter whispered next to him.

  Cooper felt his back stiffen and his gut knot. “Nope.”

  “Oh, well, neither did I, to tell you the truth. Are you looking forward to reading this week’s?”

  Cooper looked at him. “Not really …” He shrugged, as if implying he had so much work to do he couldn’t possibly wedge it in.

  Levi’s eyebrows rose, but he left it at that.

  “… Now let’s discuss what we’ll be reading this week,” Tobias said. He seemed to drone on forever, and it was all Cooper could do to sit still. Sweat dripped down his back and chest (no thanks to Levi), and he hoped his shirt wasn’t soaked by the time the meeting was done.

  For a moment he thought he’d have to read something as Tobias handed out more sheets of paper. His arms broke out in gooseflesh as he took one. One would think he was about to face some notorious outlaw in a shootout, not get handed a poem by bookish Tobias Redfern. He quickly folded it and put it in his shirt pocket – well, he wouldn’t lack for firestarter tonight.

  “And that concludes our meeting this week, gentlemen,” Tobias said. “Thank you all for coming, and I look forward to seeing you next week.”

  Cooper slumped in his chair, relieved it was over. And there would be no next week for him – if Baxter tried to drag him along once more, he’d deliver that promised punch. Baxter could show up by himself with a steak over his black eye if he wanted.

  Wes Field, sitting in front of Cooper, stood, looked at him and smiled. “Nice to see you here again. I thought after last week you wouldn’t be back.”

  “That makes two of us.” Sweating, Cooper put on his hat, shoved past Baxter and hurried outside.

  Chapter Two

  “I can’t thank you enough for showing me to the boardinghouse, Mr. …?” Hattie waited for an answer. Her guide was mute, she wasn’t sure how he’d give her one.

  His eyebrows shot up, then his eyes. He removed his hat, looked inside and grinned.

  “What is it?”

  With a look of wonderment, he pulled out a card and handed it to her.

  She took the card and read:

  Albert Dunst

  Bookseller and Scribe

  Albert blanched, glanced upward again and frowned.

  Hattie followed his eyes to the shop next to them. “Is that where you work? Is this bookshop yours?”

  Albert turned, looked at the bookshop and frowned again. He turned to her and shrugged.

  “What do you mean – you don’t know?” she asked incredulously.

  A couple of cowboys hurried out the door. They were handsome in a rugged sort of way, lean with muscular builds, and were arguing. “But it’s the perfect opportunity, Cooper,” one said to the other.

  Hattie looked at the other man, noticed his scowl, and glanced at Albert her guide. He looked at them and shrugged again.

  “No,” Cooper declared, poking the other one in the chest. He was taller and broader than his companion, and the poke actually knocked the other man back a step. “I’m not attending any more meetings, Baxter, literary or otherwise. Do you understand?” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped the back of his neck, then his brow. “I don’t feel so good.”

  “You do look a little pale,” Baxter said. “Who knew Tennyson could have such an effect on you?”

  Albert put his hand to his ear, as if intent on listening to their conversation – or signaling for her to. Hattie noticed the action and arched an eyebrow at him. “It’s none of our business,” she whispered.

  He winked, smiled and scrunched up his face. What a strange little man.

  “Have you thought of trying a tutor?” Baxter asked.

  “Like that’s going to help,” the other growled. “If my mother couldn’t …”

  Hattie turned to leave, but Albert tugged on her sleeve and nodded in the cowboys’ direction. “What?” She glanced between the men, then back at Albert. “I don’t understand.”

  “Besides, what better way is there to meet women?” Baxter added. “She could teach you to read and write and who knows what else?”

  Cooper turned an interesting shade of red. Hattie wondered if he was going to hit the other man.

  Now Albert elbowed her in the ribs. He obviously wanted her to speak with them, but why? And then an idea hit her, one that could keep her safe from Bart and her father. She took two steps toward the men …

  Baxter looked at her and smiled. “Well, hello there.”

  “Hello. I hope you don’t think me rude, but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”

  Cooper arched an eyebrow. “Eavesdropping?”

  “Not meaning to, sir. But I wondered if I … could, um …” She glanced at Albert, who nodded in encouragement. “… offer my services?”

  “Services?” Baxter fellow said.

  “Yes. My name is Miss …” She paused. Should she give them her real name? But for Heaven’s sake, no one here knew her. “… Miss Dodge, and I’m a teacher. A tutor, rather – a private tutor.” She squared her shoulders and looked at the broad-shouldered cowboy. “If I understand you correctly, you want some help learning to…”

  “I don’t want anyone’s help,” he interrupted and stepped onto the boardwalk.

  “Cooper, don’t be rude.” Baxter turned to Hattie. “He’s very interested in finding out what you have to say.”

  “No, I am not,” Cooper snapped.

  “Never mind him.” Baxter waved dismissively. “I’m Baxter Hicks, and my crabby companion here is Cooper White.” He glanced at his friend and back. “We’d love to buy you some coffee and hear what you have to say.”

  “Don’t rope me into this,” Cooper groaned.

  “He’s had a bad day – ignore him until he has some coffee. Hearth and Home isn’t far from here.” He glanced at her satchel. “Did you just arrive in town?”

  “Yes.” She began to turn. “Mr. Dunst was just taking me … to …” She stopped and turned a full circle. “Where did he go? He was here a moment ago. I don’t understand …”

  The cowboys exchanged a look. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I didn’t see anyone,” Mr. Hicks said. “Did you, Cooper?”

  Mr. White frowned as he studied the area behind her. “No. Least no one that looked like they were with you.”

  She sighed in frustration. “Well that’s just wonderful. He was taking me to a respectable boardinghouse, and now he’s gone.”

  “Did he tell you where it was?” Mr. White asked.

  “No, I’m afraid he didn’t.”

  “That’s too bad,” Mr. Hicks said. “But if the two of you were heading in this direction, it must be Hearth and Home.”

  Mr. White nodded. “Seems likely.” He studied her a moment. “It’s just up the street and easy to find. You should have no trouble.”

  “Thank you,” she said with a smile. “Thank you very much. Now about the tutoring?”

  Mr. White cringed. “I won’t need your services, ma’am. Now if you’ll excuse us, we need to get going – hey!”

  Mr. Hicks grinned as he grabbed Mr. White’s arm. “Now about that coffee?”

  Mr. White’s jaw tightened. Hattie knew that look – her father did the same thing when he was getting angry. Maybe she’d better leave and try to find the boardinghouse. “I’ll be on my way. Thank you, gentlemen.”

  “Whoa, whoa,” Mr. Hicks said. “Wait a minute, we haven’t discussed my friend’s need for a tutor yet.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Hicks, but I think we have – and he’s said he’s not interested at this time.” More’s the pity – she could use the cover. As a schoolteacher, she’d be too exposed, but if she taught privately, who could find her? She took a deep breath to brace herself. “However, my schedule does have an opening. So if you change your mind, Mr. White, I’d be more than happy to oblige you.”

  Mr. Hicks slapped him on the back. “There, you see? She’s available.”

  Mr. Whi
te glared daggers at him.

  “Aw, come on, Cooper, it’ll be fun. You’ll love it.”

  “Baxter …,” he said through clenched teeth.

  As much as Hattie wanted to continue to the boardinghouse, secure a room and collapse, she couldn’t pass up this opportunity. But how could she convince him to hire her on? “I can give you my credentials if that would help. I’m a recent graduate of Smith Women’s College.” She pulled out a card – thankfully, she’d thought to write out a quick curriculum vitae on the train west.

  Mr. White shook his head. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but my friend is speaking out of turn. I don’t need your help.”

  She handed the card to him. “Very well, then. Read that.”

  He froze, looking like she’d just asked him to go hang himself.

  “Go ahead, Cooper,” Mr. Hicks said. “Read it for the lady.”

  Mr. White stared at her, then handed the card back. “I’d rather not.”

  She glanced at the people leaving the bookshop. “If you prefer a more private setting …”

  “Hearth and Home will work fine,” Mr. Hicks volunteered.

  Mr. White pinched the bridge of his nose. “Baxter, I will deal with you later.” He looked at Hattie. “Best of luck at the boardinghouse, ma’am.” He walked away.

  His friend glanced between the two before chasing after him. “Cooper!”

  “I can guarantee results!” Hattie called out.

  Both stopped, turned and stared at her. “You can?” Mr. Hicks said with a huge smile.

  Hattie swallowed hard. What was she doing? Had she gone mad? “Of course I can. I was educated at Smith, after all – I can teach anyone.” She hoped.

  Mr. Hicks slapped Mr. White on the back. “Did you hear that, Cooper? Guaranteed! Why don’t you give her a try?”

  Mr. White looked at him, his jaw as tight as before. “Will it make you leave me alone about this?”

  “Of course,” he said happily.

  Mr. White sighed. “Fine.” He looked Hattie in the eye. “Show me what you’ve got.”

  On their way to Hearth and Home, Hattie debated what to say to the men when they got there. But why worry? She was educated at one of the finest women’s colleges in the country. It’s not like she couldn’t teach a man to read, even one as taciturn as Mr. White.

  “If it isn’t Baxter Hicks,” a woman said as they entered. “And Cooper White too. Am I right?”

  Mr. White nodded. “The lady here needs a room.” He motioned Hattie forward.

  She studied their surroundings. The place had a decent-sized dining room, which must also serve as a restaurant. She smiled. This would do nicely.

  The woman also smiled and looked Hattie over. She had a long red braid hanging over one shoulder and kind eyes. “And whom might you be?”

  She cringed. Once again she debated on whether or not to give her real name, but as she’d already done so … “Miss Hattie Dodge.”

  “Right, one room for Miss Dodge. Staying long?”

  “That depends,” she said, unsure of what else to say. She’d be staying only so long as it was safe. If the woman knew what might be coming after her, she might not let her stay at all.

  “Thanks, Millie.” Mr. Hicks gave Mr. White an expectant look.

  Mr. White glanced at Hattie and back. “Yeah, Millie, thanks.” He had the expression of a man about to face a firing squad.

  Hattie signed the register, then turned around. The few patrons in the dining area looked up. Great. The last thing she wanted was for folks to know her business. She’d have to be more careful.

  The trio found a table and each took their seats. “Now, what can you do for my friend here?” Mr. Hicks asked.

  Hattie sighed and softly asked, “Firstly, are you completely illiterate?”

  Mr. White’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I can read some.”

  “Splendid. Then there shouldn’t be a problem.”

  He sighed, snarled at Mr. Hicks, then faced her again. “Look, no offense, but my mother was a schoolteacher before she married my father. She didn’t have any luck teaching me. What makes you think you will?”

  Hattie did her best not to gulp. “Perhaps she hadn’t my education, Mr. White. I’m sure I can help you.” Hattie! her mind screamed. Listen to the man! He said his mother couldn’t do it. How can you?

  Shut up, she told herself. You’ve managed to bluff this far – ride it out. Or would you rather go back to Bart Sullivan?

  “Something wrong, Miss Dodge?” Mr. White asked. It sounded more like a challenge than concern.

  “Nothing.” She straightened in her chair. “When can we start?”

  Mr. White exchanged a look with Mr. Hicks but said nothing. He faced her again and smiled. “How about tomorrow?”

  Okay, that was a challenge – she could see it in his eyes. The man was daring her to teach him. “Fine. Where do you live? Or would you rather come to town?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “You’d come to my ranch?”

  “Er … yes, why not?”

  He exchanged another look with Mr. Hicks. “Kind of improper, don’t you think?”

  Heat crept into her cheeks. She was so intent on securing the job, she hadn’t thought of that. “We could meet here if you prefer.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Then what do you suggest, Mr. White?”

  “I can chaperone,” Mr. Hicks volunteered.

  “Can you spare the time?” Mr. White asked with a glare.

  “Sure,” Mr. Hicks said, eyes glued to Hattie.

  She cleared her throat as a waitress approached. They ordered coffee and, as soon as she was gone, continued. “Is that agreeable to you, Mr. White?”

  He sighed and sat back in his chair. “You don’t have any idea what you’re getting yourself into, do you?”

  She looked him over. “What do you mean?”

  “No one can teach me to read, Miss Dodge. Others have tried and failed. I’m a lost cause.”

  “Don’t say that,” she said emphatically. Now where did that come from? But then, he really shouldn’t talk about himself that way. It didn’t sit right with her, even if she was, well, using him. She shouldn’t care at all. “Give yourself a chance.”

  He chuckled sardonically. “I’ve given myself plenty of chances. None paid off. This won’t be any different – you’ll see.”

  A chill went up her spine. “So we shall.” What was his problem – his eyesight? Was he slow in the head? Did he lack the work ethic? What?

  “Well, now that that’s settled, how about some pie?” Mr. Hicks offered. “My treat.”

  They each ordered a slice when the waitress brought their coffee, then fell into an awkward silence. This was uncomfortable enough without the three of them staring at each other like dolts. “I was educated at Smith,” she repeated.

  Mr. Hicks nodded. “That’s the college you mentioned.”

  “Yes, a women’s college in Northampton, Massachusetts. I graduated near the top of my class.”

  Mr. White swallowed hard. “Really?”

  She sat proudly. “Really.”

  “And you’re educated in what, exactly?”

  She smiled. “Liberal arts – literature, mostly … are you quite well?” For some reason, Mr. White looked like he would be sick.

  Mr. Hicks slapped him on the back. “Don’t mind Cooper. He’s not used to all this attention from a pretty lady.”

  Cooper looked as if he wanted to punch Mr. Hicks in the face. Maybe he did.

  “Oh, look – here’s our pie,” Hattie said with a sigh of relief. Maybe the food would calm her student down. But what was she thinking? The man obviously wasn’t interested in learning how to read – this was more his friend’s doing. She should drop the whole thing and run.

  She ate her pie instead.

  Mr. White barely looked her way, while Mr. Hicks smiled at her between bites. This had all the signs of a bad idea. She’d be meeting with two men – shouldn’t the chap
erone be a woman? Could she find one? She didn’t know anyone in town yet, and wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to hide out in Creede anyway. Maybe she should move on to San Francisco or Seattle and disappear there … no, her father and Bart would have men combing the larger cities for her already. They’d find her, drag her back, and …

  “All done?” Mr. Hicks asked cheerfully.

  She looked at her plate and was surprised to find it empty. “Yes, thank you.” She looked at Mr. White. “Well, what time is convenient for you tomorrow?”

  He sighed and pushed his plate away. “After my chores. I can’t get to town before then.”

  “Very well. Where?”

  “There’s a dandy gazebo not far from here,” Mr. Hicks suggested. “Should be a nice day tomorrow. Hard to believe we’ve had some snow already.”

  “Fine.” She reached into her reticule and pulled out a notebook and pencil. “The address?”

  “It’s just up the street a spell and tucked back behind some buildings, you can’t miss it.”

  She scribbled it down anyway. “Shall we say two o’clock?”

  Mr. White looked away. “All right.” He glanced at Mr. Hicks and back. “I’m game for one round.”

  Hattie stiffened. “You sound as if you’re already giving up.”

  “That’s because I know it can’t be done.”

  Hattie stared at him as something deep inside of her stirred – an awakening, a flame of challenge, she really wasn’t sure. All she did know was that she wasn’t going to let him give up so easily. Anyone could learn to read. There had to be something else going on. But what?

  Chapter Three

  The men said their goodbyes. Hattie watched them leave, picked up her satchel and headed for the stairs.

  Once in her room, she unpacked, laid out her bedclothes and let down her hair to brush and braid it. She stared at the pitcher and washbowl and, feeling dirty from her recent travels, wondered if she had the energy for a hot bath. But the bed looked more tempting. She went to it and sat.