Special Delivery Baby

by Sherri Shackelford

  “All right then, we’re princesses at the ball.”

  Tomasina frowned. “I don’t follow.”

  “Didn’t you read fairy tales growing up?”

  “No. My pa told me stories.”

  “What kinds of stories?” Pippa asked.

  “Like the time he was fetching water from the creek when he came across a mountain lion. That mountain lion chased him back to camp and up a tree. But the only tree he could find was barely taller than a buffalo and the mountain lion caught his boot and tugged. Then he’d say, ‘That mountain lion was pulling my leg, just like I’m pulling yours.’ That was a good one. That was one of my favorites.”

  “Fascinating.” Pippa appeared slightly bewildered. “Let’s not waste any more time, ladies—we’re not getting any younger and neither are those cowboys.”

  With her skirts dried and her decorum back in place, Tomasina threw back her shoulders and followed the other two outside once more. To walk like a lady, she simply had to think about her actions. The extra effort slowed her progress, which actually turned out to be a good thing. Evidently ladies did not gallop from place to place. Pippa had driven that point home several times. Tomasina had begun to wonder how ladies ever got anything done with all the rules they had to follow and the sedate pace they were bound to keep.

  Most of the town had turned out for the event, and everyone had dressed in their finest. Even the drovers had come. She recognized several of the fellows and realized most of them had even bought new suits. With their hair washed and their beards trimmed, some even looked almost respectable. Tomasina caught a glimpse of James in his beaded vest with his tan Stetson. The moment he saw her he turned away.

  Tomasina bit the inside of her lip until the pain replaced her angry betrayal. Really. The man was impossible. She was done trying to make peace with him. Will never turned his back on her. Even when he was angry after the trick riding show, he’d sought her out. And tonight. She pressed her trembling hands together. He’d been looking out for her tonight.

  She shook out her hands. He looked out for everyone. She was nothing special to him, and she’d best remember that. He’d accepted her as a temporary resident of Cowboy Creek and he was watching out for her the same as everyone else.

  The three women took their place in the crowd standing in front of the makeshift stage. Several of the men elbowed each other out of the way, doffing their hats and stepping back a proper distance. Tomasina patted her hair in an imitation of Pippa and glided toward the front of the stage. Some of the perks of dressing like a lady weren’t half-bad.

  The three town founders took the stage, and her chest swelled. Will stood strong and tall, his hands clasped together over the handle of his walking stick. He didn’t stare at the crowd; his gaze remained fixed on the horizon. Her heart went out to him. He’d clearly rather blend in, but he was doing his duty as a town founder. While Will hid his unease, Noah fidgeted and tugged on his collar. Of the three men, Daniel appeared most comfortable, his hands stuffed in his pockets and an easy grin on his handsome face.

  The three of them had the proud bearing of soldiers. The crowd grew hushed, and the town council presented the three men with a plaque.

  Remmy Hagermann gave a long-winded speech about the future of the town. By the time he’d finished, the rest of the council waved off their opportunity to speak. With the sun sinking low on the horizon, the town council whipped off the sheet with a flourish and unveiled a brick monument at the corner of First and Eden in front of the bank.

  A simple obelisk with a pointed tip nearly fifteen feet tall, the council had affixed a brass plaque featuring the three names of the town founders, with Noah’s name first. The three men shuffled their feet and admired the monument. John Cleve Parker set up his camera. After he’d arranged the men, he ducked beneath the black fabric drape and took the men’s photograph in a burst of flash powder. The crowd hollered for speeches from the men.

  Noah declined to speak, instead thanking those assembled with a smile and a quick wave.

  Daniel stepped forward. “Well, I’m sure glad we located this town by Cowboy Creek and not Skunk Valley.” As the crowd roared with laughter, he paused. “I served with Noah Burgess in the War Between the States, and I am proud to call him a friend. He settled here first and wrote letters describing the fruitful plains and fertile valley.

  “I have to admit, when I got here, I thought he was drinking his own moonshine.” More laughter met his words. Everyone knew that Noah didn’t drink and he certainly didn’t own a still. “I’ve grown to love this place. I appreciate the land and the people who have the courage to settle this land. Thank you for this honor. May we prove worthy of your esteem.”

  Enthusiastic applause followed his exit from the stage.

  Will took his place and cleared his throat. “Towns like this are like families. We see before us the past, the present and the future. With each new generation, we will remember the folks who came before us. We will honor the sacrifices they made, and we will carry their spirit with us. A hundred years from now, a family will pass by this monument and recall our names, and the legacy of Cowboy Creek will live on. Because the future is built on the ruins of the past. May we inspire the dreams of those who look upon this enduring legacy. As long as we always dream a little bigger than the generation before us, Cowboy Creek will survive and thrive.”

  Raucous applause sounded at his words. Tomasina blinked rapidly. Will Canfield was a man building a legacy. Her enthusiasm waned, and when Pippa and Hannah left for the dance floor, she stayed behind.

  As dusk fell low over the horizon, the men lit hanging lanterns, bathing the scene in a soft glow. At first the men and women lined up across the dance floor from each other like children at a school dance. Two or three lively reels later the floor was full. Tomasina fended off a few ardent suitors before taking a seat on a bench in the shadows.

  Bracing her hands behind her, she watched the dancers from a distance, her toes tapping the cheerful rhythm.

  “Why aren’t you dancing?” A familiar voice spoke. “Surely you’re not lacking for partners.”

  Tomasina glanced up. “I don’t dance. Pippa and Hannah offered to teach me, but there’s only so much a body can learn in a few days. I was busy trying to walk and talk properly. Adding the dancing was too much. I don’t mind. I like watching everyone else.”

  Will indicated the empty seat beside her. “Do you mind if I join you?”

  Scooting a little, she made more room. “Of course not. Have a rest.”

  “The old injury is worse at the end of the day.” He sat, one leg bent, the other stretched out. “I was quite the dancer before the war.”

  Tomasina elbowed him. “You’re fooling me. I can’t picture you dancing.”

  “Not at all. There’s no better way to woo a pretty girl than sweeping her around the dance floor.” He absently rubbed his thigh. “Look at that. Miss Ewing is dancing with Mr. Gardner.”

  “Who are they?”

  Will pointed out the couple. “Miss Ewing has been assisting Daniel and Leah until their baby arrives. Oliver is Daniel’s father. A widower. We may have another wedding before long.”

  “Cowboy Creek is bringing romance to the West.”

  “One couple at a time.”

  “You are a romantic, Will Canfield. Quit denying it.” Still feeling like a first-rate heel for reminding him of his injury, Tomasina stared at her satin slippers. “You could still dance now, if you wanted.”

  “No. Those days are gone. Before the war I’d never have imagined I’d miss something as simple as a turn around the dance floor. I took so much for granted.”

  Pippa swept by in a lively jig with a handsome drover. The two attacked the dance with more enthusiasm than grace.

  “What do you miss most of all?” Tomasina asked softly. “From how
life was before the war?”

  “My family, I suppose. I was an only child. My parents were older. I think they’d given up on ever having children. I must have been quite a surprise to them.” He exhaled slowly, hesitating a moment before continuing. “I was always self-conscious growing up. The other children assumed my parents were my grandparents, and I rarely corrected the mistake. I was too selfish to understand how much that hurt them. They doted on me.”

  “They’re gone, then?”

  He nodded. “My mother died shortly before the war began. My father soon after. Daniel and I had already enlisted. My father was proud of me, but worried. I assured him the war would be over in a matter of weeks. He died without knowing how wrong I was.”

  “Why didn’t you go home again?”

  “Home is family. My family was gone. I had served with Daniel and Noah. Noah was here, and Daniel and I followed. I haven’t been back east since.” He turned toward her, his dark eyes searching hers. “What about you? Where did you grow up?”

  “Nowhere. Everywhere. My mother died when I was young. Me and Pa lived with his sister for a spell. Then she found a fellow of her own and got hitched. She offered to take me with her, but Pa wasn’t having any of it at first. He tried his hand at farming, but he wasn’t much good. Eventually he left me with my aunt and her new husband and joined a cattle drive.”

  “Left you behind? And how did you feel about that?”

  “How do you think?” she asked with a scowl. “I was just nine years old, but I refused to wait around for my pa. Rode my little pony six miles to catch up. The other fellows thought it was funny, having a little girl on the trail. They looked out for me. That’s how it’s been ever since. Me and him.”

  “I heard your father passed away recently. You promised to tell me about him.”

  “I miss him.” The hollow pang was there, though not as strong as before. “His death was peaceful. He went to bed one night and didn’t wake up come morning. He’s home now.”

  “It’s difficult, losing someone. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “People think grief is a wound and, when the wound heals, you go on like before. I think it’s more like losing a limb. The pain eases, but you’re never the same. You have to figure out a different way of doing things. You have to learn a new way of surviving.” Her voice faltered, and she swallowed hard. “You go on, but there’s always something missing. Take what happened to your leg. You healed, but there’s always a hitch in your step. Grief is the same way.”

  “Is that a weakness? I’ve always wondered.”

  “It’s a strength. Only broken men thrive out West. Because broken men know how to survive.”

  “You’re a survivor. Does that mean you’re broken, Miss Stone?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “No,” Tomasina replied wistfully. “I’m not broken. I was protected. Sheltered.”

  “I’m glad someone protected you. There are enough broken folks since the war. We don’t need any more.” Will stood and propped his cane against the bench then held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

  Tomasina tipped back her head. “I told you, I don’t dance.”

  “Neither do I. That’s why we’re perfect together.”

  She cautiously stood and took his hand. Her insides were trembling wildly, and her chest was tight. He wrapped his other arm around her waist. She was acutely aware of him—his scent, his warmth, his touch. Urging her closer, his chin brushed her temple. Swaying a little, she followed his lead.

  Barely shuffling their feet, Will whispered his instructions. “This is a waltz, the dance of romance. It caused quite a scandal when it was first introduced in Austria. Like most things in life, the steps are deceptively simple and incredibly nuanced.” He guided her with a gentle pressure against her back. “Back, together, side. Back, together, side.”

  His breath whispered against the sensitive skin behind her ear, stirring the hairs on the nape of her neck.

  The fiddle player spun a tune, and Tomasina gradually relaxed into the rhythm. As the other dancers swirled around the floor, the two of them barely moved from their place in the shadows. Where his hands touched her, a tingling sensation feathered over her skin. She was surrounded by his warmth and his strength. Her pulse quickened. She’d never been this vitally aware of a man before. With every breath her senses were assailed with the heady scents of his starched shirt and bay rum cologne.

  His hand engulfed hers, and she felt calluses on his palm and fingers, a testament to his physical labor. Though he spent much of his time with office and managerial duties, she’d seen him hoisting bags of flour and supplies with ease. His rugged features were far more attractive than mere handsomeness. Beneath his civilized exterior, there was something primitive and raw. His masculinity made her acutely aware of her own femininity.

  All her life she’d fought against the restrictions of being a woman. Anything feminine was considered weak. In Will’s arms, she felt powerful. He was exciting and tempting...and frightening.

  She’d mastered her emotions in all other aspects. She never showed fear and she gave as good as she got when the cowboys were taunting each other. This new awakening was both alluring and terrifying. She’d unleashed a power within herself she had no idea how to control. If she gave in to her feelings, she worried she’d regret it. There was a rash part of herself she didn’t trust.

  When the music ended, Will cleared his throat and stepped back. “You have a natural grace, Miss Stone. You’re ready to take your place on the dance floor.”

  Clinging to the moment, she pressed her hand against his chest and felt the rapid beat of his heart. She swayed forward, her face upturned. His head lowered, blotting out the moonlight. A restless need drew her forward.

  “My, my, my. What is all this?” a feminine voice chided. “What will the chaperones say with you two hiding in the shadows?”

  Tomasina took a guilty step aside. Will caught her around the waist and eased her protectively against his side.

  “Miss Edison. You’re looking lovely this evening,” he said, his hand resting heavily on Tomasina’s hip.

  Tomasina recognized Dora Edison from meals at the hotel restaurant. She was one of those patrons who rarely acknowledged the staff beyond placing her order or demanding additional service. Mr. Wilson, one of the bankers from the Western Savings & Loan Bank of Kansas, stood beside her.

  Dora’s dark, curly hair was arranged in a smooth chignon, enhancing her heart-shaped face and blue eyes. She ran her finger over the daring neckline of her gown. “It’s so nice of you to let the kitchen help attend the evening’s festivities. I’m certain such charitable causes will assist your bid for the governor’s mansion.” She leaned forward with a broad wink. “But I’m guessing you knew that already, didn’t you?”

  “Governor’s mansion?” Tomasina asked weakly.

  Dora smiled; an odd, square-lipped smile that revealed her lower teeth. “Surely you realize Will Canfield would never be content with some place as common and coarse as our dear Cowboy Creek.”

  Tomasina glanced at his profile. A vein throbbed in his temple. Dora wasn’t speaking of Cowboy Creek, and everyone standing in their tight circle understood the implication.

  “Dora,” Will said, a warning in his voice. “You’ve overstepped your bounds.”

  “But we were engaged, Will. Surely that affords me some latitude?”

  A vise tightened around Tomasina’s heart. Engaged?

  She must have made a noise because Dora fixed her gaze on her. “He was engaged to Leah Gardner at one time, as well. Since the two of you appear cozy, surely you knew that! He can’t even settle for one woman, let alone one place.”

  “Mr. Canfield,” Simon called from the path. He glanced around, his gaze flitting over Dora with a grimace. “You’re needed back at the ho
tel.”

  “I’ll be along shortly. Enjoy your evening, Miss Edison,” Will said. “Mr. Wilson.”

  Dora clung to the banker’s arm. “Too bad you have to leave, I’m sure Miss Stone will have plenty of company in your absence.”

  She flounced off, all but dragging the banker behind her.

  Will lifted his hand from Tomasina’s hip and offered her his bent arm. “Pippa will wonder what happened to you. I’ll see that you’re settled before I leave.”

  She placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. Considering Pippa had stood up for every dance, Tomasina doubted she’d given her a second thought.

  “I’d rather go back to the hotel.”

  “Then I’ll walk you the distance.”

  Grateful for the distraction, she pressed her free hand against her thumping heart. She’d made fun of the boys for getting all moon-eyed over girls before. She’d never understood their single-minded adoration. She owed them an apology. She’d never experienced the pull of attraction before. She was growing increasingly aware of Will. She sensed his moods, she sympathized with his difficulties. For the love of little green apples, she was even beginning to soften about some of his rules. The mere thought of him left her insides quivery. Agitated.

  She was intensely aware of him, and yet he was completely oblivious to her. He’d been engaged to Dora Edison. He was on his way to the governor’s mansion. He’d never settle for some place as common and coarse as Cowboy Creek.

  Or someone as wild and untamed as her.

  They stepped from the shadows, and light from dozens of lanterns lit their path. The encounter with Dora had shaken her fragile sense of belonging. She wanted so badly to believe she could fit into his world, but doubts assailed her at every turn.

  She glanced at Will’s unyielding profile.

  A governor needed a lady as a wife. Her transformation had been superficial only. She hadn’t become a lady; she’d fooled them all with Pippa’s instructions on decorum and Hannah’s fancy dress. Once again her respect was borrowed. On the inside, she was still a drover.