Special Delivery Baby

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Special Delivery Baby Page 18

by Sherri Shackelford


  Will glanced up, his expression concerned. “Are you all right?”

  She stood and glanced at the door. Why stay when there was nothing for her here? A shiver rattled through her body. In an instant Will was on his feet. After resting Ava in the bassinet, he reached for the coat he’d discarded over a chair.

  Wrapping the material around her shoulders, he guided her toward the settee once more and then urged her toward the spot nearest the fire.

  He caught her hands, massaging warmth into her fingers. “You’re like ice. You should have said something sooner.”

  “When were you engaged to Leah?” she blurted.

  The question had been eating away at her. She’d watched them together this evening and sensed nothing but friendship between them. That observation had fueled her curiosity.

  Something flickered in his gaze. “Ages ago. Before the war. We were young. Naive. It seemed the thing to do. I saw her as a friend, as a companion. But Daniel had always loved her. Truly loved her. Things worked out exactly as they should. Eventually.”

  “And Dora?” The name quivered on her tongue.

  His expression grew shuttered, and her heart sank. Why must she always charge into things without thinking first? Pippa had admonished her more than once for being too direct. Evidently, ladies didn’t pry. According to Pippa, ladies didn’t gossip, either. Instead they “shared” the news of the day. The rules of being a lady were complicated. But Tomasina wasn’t a lady. Not really.

  Will stared into the fire, and the crackling flames cast shadows over the planes of his face. “She decided we didn’t suit.”

  “You’re lying.” She might not be a lady, but that didn’t mean she lacked feminine intuition. “Dora wanted a piece of your hide. You broke off the engagement, didn’t you?”

  There’d been a distinct venom behind Dora’s toothy smile.

  “I can’t say.”

  Tomasina sank her fingers into the plush velvet tufting of the wine-colored settee. “She was after your money, wasn’t she?”

  He made a choking sound, and she slapped him on the back.

  He coughed and sputtered. “Why do you think that?”

  “The way she was hanging on that banker. He’s not nearly as handsome as you.” She cleared her throat. “I mean to say, there’s no reason she’d have chosen Mr. Wilson over you.”

  “Mr. Wilson is a fine gentleman. They suit each other.”

  A rush of relief surged through her. His gentlemanly answer was all she needed. He had most definitely ended the engagement and not the other way around. The truth struck her as a triumph. She much preferred Dora as a gold digger and not the source of Will’s unrequited love. Judging by his tone, he wasn’t too broken up by the loss.

  “I’m not as fickle as I appear.” Appearing abashed, he raked his fingers through his dark hair. “You don’t think the worst of me, do you?”

  She ruffled the velvet against the grain then smoothed it back in place once more. “What does my opinion matter?”

  “It matters.”

  Her heart pounded with sudden painful jerks. She ached to stroke her finger down the sandpapery length of his jaw. She tugged his coat tighter around her shoulders.

  Ava squalled, breaking the mood around them.

  Will straightened with a rueful laugh. “I declared victory too soon.”

  Tomasina turned away, hoping he hadn’t seen the flash of sorrow in her eyes. He’d make a fine father one day. She stood and backed away from the realization, physically and mentally. Her hip bumped against the buffet, rattling the supper dishes.

  He’d make a fine husband. Just not hers.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Will woke with a start. The hand shaking his shoulder retracted.

  Simon stared down at him. “Time to get up.”

  Blinking, Will rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “What time is it?”

  “Half past ten.”

  He bolted upright. “That late? I’m meeting Mr. King at the land office.”

  He rose and glanced around the room. The last he recalled, Tomasina had fallen asleep on the couch, his coat wrapped around her shoulders. The space was empty now, his coat folded and draped neatly over the arm.

  He’d known immediately she was gone. It felt as though all the life had gone out of the room with her.

  His porter turned toward the door. “Mrs. Foster is resting. Ava is better this morning. Hannah is watching her in her room. After last evening, no one wanted to disturb you.”

  Yanking open the curtains, Simon bathed the room in sunlight.

  Will shaded his eyes against the glare. He discovered his shaving kit had been prepared and a dark charcoal suit had been pressed and hung on the back of the door. Simon had been busy this morning.

  The young porter had been up late the previous evening, as well. Maybe not as late as Will and Tomasina, but late all the same. Tomasina’s subtle accusation rang in his ears. Simon worked far too hard for a boy of his age.

  Will reached for his shaving blade. “Simon, do you ever take a day off?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  After splashing his hands in the washbowl, Will dried them on the dangling towel. “You didn’t attend the dance last evening, either.”

  “Someone had to watch the front desk.”

  Will lathered his face then scraped the blade along his chin. “Take a few days off. Relax. Mr. Rumsford and Mrs. Foster can handle the extra work.”

  The boy’s face crumpled. “Have I done something wrong?”

  Will flicked the foam off his blade into the washbowl and turned. “No, of course not. You’re my best employee. It’s just that you work too hard. Take some time for yourself.”

  “I can’t. I’m saving money.”

  That gave him pause. “For what?”

  “Schooling. Mr. Rumsford went to a fancy college back east. He talks about it all the time. I’m going to study the law someday.”

  Will’s chest constricted. He’d never known Simon’s aspirations. In all the years they’d worked together, he’d never thought to ask about his plans—or anything else of a personal nature. He’d been treating the boy as a fellow soldier when he should have been regarding him as a younger brother or a son. Shame heated his face. The habits he’d formed during his years in the war had transferred into his civilian life. He’d kept a distance from the men fighting beneath his command out of necessity. There was no room for sentiment in war. Only with Daniel and Noah had he let down his guard. The war was over, and it was time for a change.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” Will said. “I’ll pay for your schooling, with one condition.”

  Simon frowned. “Why would you do that?”

  “This town needs more lawyers. Every time I buy a parcel of land or sell a property, the lawyers are involved. I’m starting to wonder if the last fellow knew his job. There’s trouble with the deed to the Godwin’s store. Not to mention I’ll be asking the town for investors in the Union Pacific soon. You can hardly cross the street these days without consulting a lawyer. I’d consider your schooling an investment.”

  “An investment? How so?” the lad asked.

  “I’d ask that you stay in Cowboy Creek for five years after your graduation in return for my investment.”

  “I’m honored, sir.” Simon’s voice was filled with awe.

  “Think about it, Simon. That’s a big commitment. The years of schooling in addition to five years in Cowboy Creek. I can’t promise the town will make you rich, but it’s growing. You’ll always have business.”

  The boy’s eyes glimmered, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Thank you. I wish my ma was around. She always said I was smart.”

  “Your mother would be proud. You’re smart. You’re a har
d worker. I’ve come to rely on you. I’ve also taken you for granted. You’re trustworthy and dedicated, and you’re growing into a fine young man full of potential.” Will exhaled a slow, ragged breath. “I should have realized sooner that you were meant for something more. I was selfish. I couldn’t imagine running this hotel without you. While I might lose you as an employee, I hope I can keep you as a friend.”

  “A friend?” The same wonder infused Simon’s words. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

  “You’re welcome,” Will replied, his voice gruff. “It’s settled then.”

  The war was over, and it was time to stop shutting people out. Dora was a prime example. He’d enjoyed her company, but his feelings for her had been shallow. The paltry sentiment had been mutual. Dora was more interested in a comfortable life and the chance at being the first lady of Kansas. Her esteem for him had not stretched beyond those goals. She’d merely been a convenient choice for a spouse. With neither investing too much of their heart, the choice had been safe for both of them.

  Since enlisting in the Union Army, he’d kept his feelings tightly contained. With great love came great loss, and he’d seen too much death already. The practice no longer served a purpose. There would be losses to come. No life remained untouched. But he’d been denying himself the joy of close friendships. Even his connection with Daniel and Noah had suffered. He’d held a part of himself back, fearing that if something ever happened to one of them he’d never be whole again.

  “Thank you for this opportunity.” Simon interrupted his musings. “I won’t let you down.”

  Will chose his next words carefully. “I was a grown man when I lost my parents, and I miss them every day. You never told me what happened to your folks.”

  “The war,” Simon replied simply. “I didn’t like the orphanage. I wound up here.”

  There was more to the boy’s story, but he decided not to press him. The shift in their relationship was too new, too fragile. There’d be time enough for questions later.

  “You have made your parents proud. You’re a fine young man.”

  His throat working, Simon approached and held out his hand. “I wish they could have met you.”

  “And I them.” Will clasped his fingers and slapped his shoulder. “Take the day off and start making plans.”

  “Tomorrow. I’ll take tomorrow off and rest up for Friday.” Simon grasped Will’s charcoal-gray coat and shook it out with a flick of his wrists. “Friday is an important day for Cowboy Creek. Gideon Kendricks is arriving, and the town council meeting is that evening.”

  A knock indicated another visitor.

  Simon crossed the room and swung open the door.

  Sheriff Davis doffed his hat and stepped inside.

  Will offered him a drink, which he declined, and a seat, which he accepted.

  The sheriff propped his hat on his bent knee and rested his hand on the brim. “You better do something about those cowboys, Canfield, because I’m running out of jail cells.”

  Anticipating a lengthy conversation, Will dismissed Simon, and the boy promised to fetch him when it was time to meet Mr. King at the land office.

  Will took the seat across from Sheriff Davis. “What happened?”

  “The usual. After you left the dance, the boys got rowdy. Drinking. Fighting...”

  Will clenched his hand on his thigh. “I should have stayed.”

  “Nothing you could have done.” Quincy waved off his concern. “It was late. Most of the ladies and the families had left already. I’m thinking we ought to clear out the tent city. If there’s not enough room for them to stay at Drover’s Place, then it’s time for them to move on.”

  “That’s Daniel’s decision. It’s his property.”

  “You better speak with Mr. Gardner real quick like then, because I’m running out of room in the drunk tank.”

  “I’ll speak with Daniel.” This was an unfortunate turn of events. They walked a fine line with the drovers. While the town would survive without the cattle drives, many of the local businesses would suffer. “In another month or two, most of them will move on anyway.”

  “If we make it that long.” The sheriff cleared his throat. “There’s something else.” He swallowed hard and then cleared his throat again. “If the drovers were occupied, they might cause less trouble.”

  The few ways of entertaining cowboys that came to mind were hardly suitable.

  “You think I should set up a quilting bee?” Will joked.

  The sheriff coughed and sputtered. “Not a quilting bee, no.”

  Will stood and poured a glass of water, offering it to Quincy. “If you have a suggestion, don’t beat around the bush. I’m all out of ideas.”

  “A rodeo,” Quincy announced. “Let’s plan a rodeo.”

  Will gaped. “After what happened before?”

  “That was an accident.”

  “You really think a rodeo will help?”

  “At this point it sure can’t hurt.”

  Tomasina’s words came rushing back. She’d warned him. She knew those drovers better than anyone. They worked hard and they played hard.

  “I’ll speak with Texas Tom.” Will cast a baleful glance toward the door. “I’ll ask her to consider more roping contests and less bull riding.”

  “It’s a good idea.”

  She was never going to let him live down his change of heart. “Time will tell.”

  Quincy stood and replaced his hat, running his thumb and forefinger along the brim. “I’ll be at the meeting on Friday.”

  “Excellent. I’ll need all the support I can get.” He followed the sheriff out the door. “I’ll walk you out. I have a quick stop to make at the land office.”

  His quick stop turned out to be singularly frustrating. The office was torn apart and stacks of deeds had been pulled for authentication. The deeds to the Godwins’ shops had been discovered as forgeries.

  Mr. King scurried around the office. The land officer was slight and balding with a wisp of hair he’d coaxed over his forehead.

  The older man placed the two Godwin documents side by side on the table. “As you can clearly see, sir, the signatures don’t match.”

  “I know my own signature.”

  “Then you realize this deed is a fake. Along with several others.”

  “I see what you’re saying, I don’t understand why.” Will shoved a hand through his hair and scowled. “What is the purpose of stealing the real deeds?”

  “It ties up all the sales in court, doesn’t it? You can’t sell the property without a clear deed. All the sales of property in Cowboy Creek are in limbo until further notice.”

  “All of them?”

  “All of them.” Mr. King spread his hands. “I can’t risk a sale. Not until we discover which deeds are authentic and which are fake. If you think we’re in a mess now, wait until the bank is involved.”

  “I know the original documents were legal. Which means they were altered after we filed the paperwork,” Will said slowly. “I don’t recall hearing about a burglary at the land office. When do you suppose this happened?”

  “Whoever did this was smart. There’s no way to tell when the forgeries started, which means all the deeds are in question.”

  “The Cowboy Café was vandalized recently. Everyone assumed the Murdochs were stealing supplies. What if we were wrong? You’ve complained before about the noises and smells. The buildings are connected. What if the land office was the real target, and robbing the café was merely the cover?”

  “The Murdochs are wily. They can rob a church in broad daylight and slip into town a few weeks later to dump Zeb.” Mr. King’s expression turned speculative. “But why break into the land office and replace the deeds with forgeries when there are thousands of dollars in the bank across t
he street?”

  “Excellent question.” Will surveyed the documents once more. “Think about this from the Murdochs’ perspective. For starters, no one has assigned this crime to them.”

  “True. None of us even realized a crime had been committed.”

  “Exactly.” Will stuffed the Godwins’ forged deeds into his breast pocket. “I’ll speak with the Godwins this afternoon. What should I tell them?”

  “They can’t rent the shop unless we can prove they own the building.” Mr. King straightened a pile of papers. “There are legal ramifications.”

  Will massaged the spot between his eyes with two fingers. He certainly didn’t need this trouble right now. With Gideon Kendrick’s arrival in town, he didn’t need any additional complications.

  “Sort out the fake deeds from the real deeds,” Will said. “We can start from there.”

  At this rate he’d best get Simon through law school quickly. There was already a legal mess for sorting. First the Murdoch Gang, then the trouble with the drovers, now the deeds.

  What else could go wrong?

  * * *

  Having slept late, Tomasina snagged several slices of bacon and a mug of coffee before taking a seat in the empty dining room. Moments later Simon crossed through toward the kitchen, whistling a merry tune.

  Tomasina did a double take. “What’s put the song in your step this morning?”

  “I’m going to law school back east,” he said, straightening his cap.

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that. Mr. Canfield is paying for my schooling so long as I start my practice in Cowboy Creek.”

  She peered at him over the rim of her coffee cup. “He is? What brought that about?”

  “We talked this morning. Different than we normally talk. We talked as equals. He listened to what I had to say. Really listened.”

  Her chest swelled. Will had listened to Simon. He’d listened to her. Instead of ignoring her criticism when she’d questioned his handling of Simon, he’d actually taken her advice and talked with the boy. He actually respected her opinion.

 

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