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Another Chance

Page 5

by Michelle Beattie


  "Never does. Anyhow I thought I'd let you know it's not good."

  "I didn't expect it would be, Sheriff, but I'm prepared to stay so I hope it's not running me off you were after."

  "Nah. We're mostly friendly and harmless around here." He extended his hand. "Sorry. I never introduced myself. Shane McCall."

  "A pleasure, Sheriff," she said as she took his hand.

  "Or Shane. Whichever you prefer. Just don't call me Mr. McCall; that was my father."

  From the shadows that crept into his eyes, Jillian gathered that Shane had some deep feelings toward the man. Feelings that weren't all good.

  "All right. Shane it is. Are you sure I can't offer you anything?"

  "No, I'm fine. I need to be heading back. Just wanted to come introduce myself and let you know where you stood." He placed a boot in the stirrup. "I don't expect anyone around here to give you any real trouble, they're mostly just jawing. But should that change, you be sure to let me know."

  "I will, thank you."

  He tipped his hat, swung the rest of the way in the saddle.

  "Good day, Jillian."

  "Shane."

  She watched him ride away, tall and handsome. His dark hair and clothes, along with the six-shooter he carried, gave him a commanding presence. She imagined if he wasn't married he'd have any number of eligible young women swooning. Yet, no matter how much she thought Shane attractive and pleasant, that sizzle of attraction she'd felt with Wade hadn't been there with Shane.

  She gave herself a mental shake. "You have more important things to worry about, Jillian, than handsome men. If the townsfolk were staring to buzz, then it was time she threw herself into the hive.

  ***

  If Wade thought it had been hot on his way to Jillian's, it was nothing compared to the heat that cloaked him leaving her place. Her smell, her touch. Everything lingered and teased him until riding became damn uncomfortable. He'd had women approach him at church, on his errands in town. He'd known by the way they smiled or found reasons to touch him that they'd been interested. The problem had been that he wasn't interested.

  Oh, he'd looked. Considered, even. But as much as he wanted a woman who'd be happy to take care of his home, help raise his daughter, he knew that attraction was a necessary ingredient in a healthy relationship. And the more of it, the better, he thought as he shifted in the saddle.

  And wasn't it just his luck that the first woman who'd stirred his desires since Amy had died was a woman who, he knew, would never be happy to simply be a wife and mother. A woman bold enough to move across a country for what she wanted wouldn't give it all up for anything. Or anyone.

  Old bitterness replaced any lingering desire. Who was he fooling? He hadn't been enough for Amy. The ranch, the family they'd built, none of it had been enough. She'd still wanted more. And, to this day, he didn't have more to offer.

  The bills his father had accumulated were staggering. The first time Wade had seen them, he'd been sure there was a mistake. But a closer review showed they were correct. What he hadn't been able to figure out was why. Though not a huge spread, they had a fair sized herd and the beef prices had been strong. It was his mother who'd finally filled in the blanks one night while he poured over the ledgers at the kitchen table.

  "Wade, your father was a kind man," she'd said as she shook her head. "But he was a little too soft-hearted."

  She'd gone on about the times his neighbors and friends, in one predicament or another, had come to him in desperation. And Samuel Parker had come through. The problem was he'd gotten himself so far in debt that there had been no one left to help him. The pressure had finally been too much and his heart had given out. Wade had buried his father next to Amy, who'd died only a year before. Who wouldn't have died at all if she hadn't found her husband lacking.

  They crested a hill and, seeing the ranch, Whiskey shook his head, whinnied to announce his presence to the horses waiting in the corral.

  "Almost there, boy. Are you ready for some water?"

  Lord knew he was. Every time he swallowed he tasted grit. All he wanted was to get a glass of cold water from the well then dump a bucketful over his heated body. Then bury himself in work so he could stop brooding over his life.

  Outside the barn he swung off Whiskey, whose tail swished as the usual assortment of flies homed in.

  "Let's get you brushed inside where it's cooler."

  He patted Whiskey's neck, his hand leaving a dark imprint on the wet hide. Whiskey tossed his head, as though agreeing.

  Suddenly Wade caught a whiff of something vile. The pungent smell burned his nostrils. He grimaced. Had the smell been this bad last night or was it the heat of the day that had ripened it? His frown deepened when he saw chicken feathers scattered in the aisle. He let go of the reins, knowing Whiskey would stay close. What the hell were chicken feathers doing there? The chickens never came into the barn; they stayed in the coop behind the corrals.

  Frustrated, he stomped forward.

  "Now!" Scott yelled.

  Wade's gaze jumped to the right. There was Scott, on the floor, one boot propped against a post, the end of a rope in his gloved hands. Wade felt it across his ankle at the same moment he realized just what that meant for him. His gaze zinged to the left and sure enough, there was James holding the other end.

  With Wade's momentum already going, his balance slipped out of his control. No matter how he tried to step out or over, they adjusted the rope. He flailed his arms to try to keep on his feet, now knowing why the barn stunk and what lay beneath the feathers, but it was no use. Falling forward, all he could do was keep his mouth and eyes closed and use his arms to keep himself from falling face first.

  Shit!

  SIX

  The buckboard clattered loudly as Jillian made her way to town. Though anxious to see Cedar Springs for the first time, Jillian wasn't going in with any expectations. She'd seen her share of men and women who frowned upon her being a doctor and Shane had warned her that she could expect more of the same here.

  But her father had taught her that if she wanted to follow in his shoes, she'd have to fight for it. Well, she planned on doing just that.

  Jillian grunted as the buckboard bounced through a large rut. She tightened her grip on the reins. She'd handle the town, but first she had to navigate this route. The road--if the two dirt furrows cut in the field could be called such--was riddled with rocks, bumps and ruts. Perched on the edge of the seat with both feet braced on the floor, Jillian figured she'd be lucky to arrive in Cedar Springs without having jarred every tooth out of her jaw.

  Small fluffy clouds dotted a sky that seemed to stretch forever. The sun was warm on her face and Jillian imagined several birds would be out singing jubilantly, not that she could hear them for the constant rattle of the buckboard and the jingle of the harness.

  The sun was at its highest when the buckboard rolled into town. Seeing the tidy little buildings with their painted false fronts, her stomach fluttered and her surly mood drifted in the breeze. It was so...pretty.

  She drew back on the reins and, not wanting to miss a single detail of the town, jumped down. Curling her fingers in Hope's halter, Jillian led her up the street.

  The road was wide enough to turn a team around and it cut between two rows of charming little buildings joined by a long boardwalk. She passed the tailor's, the barber's, the cobbler's and the doctor's.

  A mother and two children stepped out of the doctor's office. The woman paused when she saw Jillian. Before she could respond to Jillian's greeting, her youngest broke free of her grasp and ran up the boardwalk, his little feet slapping the planks. His mother grabbed her skirts with one hand and her daughter with the other and gave chase while ordering the young man to stop right that instant. The boy turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

  By the time Jillian reached the corner and looked down a short street that connected up with another, the boy had been caught and his mother was blistering his ears.


  Looking to the other side, Jillian smiled as she'd reached her destination, the mercantile. She tied Hope to the post in front and stepped inside. After the brilliance of the sun, it took her eyes a moment to adjust. The store was surprisingly large and the shelves were lined with more food items, sweets, pots, pans, and bolts of material then she'd imagined a small town would have. Everything smelt crisp and clean, and even the wood floors gleamed with a recent polish.

  She'd never been the kind of woman who needed all the fancy trappings that came with a big city but she admitted to liking some pretty things around her. And she was more than pleased to see that Cedar Springs wouldn't disappoint her in that regard.

  Two women, with baskets tucked in the crook of their arms, peered around the shelves to see who'd come in. Jillian smiled at them but they looked away and went back to shopping.

  "You must be the new vet."

  Jillian turned. Standing before her, arms crossed over her blue apron, smiled a woman who seemed to be about Mrs. Parker's age. While her graying hair was drawn back into a bun, her face was smooth and her eyes bright as any child's. Jillian couldn't help but respond to the warmth in them.

  "I am." She held out her hand. "Jillian Matthews."

  The woman clapped both hands around Jillian's. "A pleasure. I'm Letty Daniels and if you need anything you don't see here, let me know and I can bring it in. Course it may take months the way the stage works around here, but it gets here eventually."

  With her hand still holding Jillian's, Letty pulled her to the back of the store, only releasing her hold to step behind the long counter. Then Mrs. Daniels opened a large glass bowl and took out two peppermint sticks. At her nod, Jillian accepted one, smiled as the sweetness rolled over her tongue.

  Letty leaned forward, her own candy stick still in hand. "You've sure got this town hopping. People haven't stopped cackling all day."

  "The sheriff had said that word had gotten around. I must admit that surprises me. I only got here three days ago and I didn't come through town. Doc met me in Bozeman."

  "It's a small town, so you'd better get used to the fact that if you sneeze, it'll be town's business by sundown."

  "But when I was called to the Parker ranch they had no idea Doc Fletcher had left, let alone that I'd arrived."

  "Ah," Letty smiled. "Eileen only comes in once a week to do her shopping. In fact, I expect her tomorrow. Wade was over at Silver's last night. I suppose folks heard him talking about you and word spread from there."

  "Silver's?"

  "Silver's is the saloon down the street. You'd like Silver, she not only owns the saloon, she runs it. And despite what folks around here think, she's a good woman."

  One of the women shopping hmphed.

  Letty fisted a hand on her hip, tilted her head to look down the aisle. "Did you need anything?"

  "No, just had something in my throat," the other woman answered and made a show of clearing her throat. "It's better now."

  Letty rolled her eyes, turned back to Jillian. "Silver, the Parker's, they are all good people."

  "Eileen seems very nice," Jillian conceded. She wasn't sure yet what to make of Wade. She'd thought they'd turned a corner yesterday, but now it seemed he'd been in the saloon talking about her, stirring up the town.

  Letty stuck her candy in her mouth, sucked on it for a moment. "She is. Known her all my life. We stood for each other at our weddings. I'm glad you met her first. Hopefully that will hold some weight for you when you meet the rest of the town. I can't say, from the grumblings I've heard, that the rest will prove as friendly."

  "When I was at the ranch, there was a problem."

  "I know, dear, and I was sorry to hear that."

  "Word has gotten out about the cow already?"

  "As I said, it's a small town."

  And Wade had spoken of her at the saloon. Jillian wondered if he'd spoken about it before or after he'd realized she wasn't at fault. "How bad is it?"

  "It's not going to help, you, I'm afraid. But I have to say, even without that poor cow dying, you would have had a hard time. Folks, especially those who've been here since they were being nursed by their mammas, tend to think the town belongs to them. So as an outsider, you wouldn't have been readily accepted anyway. As an outsider doing a man's work, it's even worse.

  "Now don't get me wrong, Jillian, I'm not one of those. I think new blood keeps the town thriving. Otherwise, we'd all become stale like week old bread, but not everyone's as open minded as I am." She nodded toward the front of the store.

  Jillian turned around. The two women ducked down, pretended they weren't listening to every word.

  "Go on and find what you need, Jillian. I think those women are about done here."

  There was pretty yellow material she'd love to sew into curtains, and a simple rug that would look perfect at her front door. But knowing she couldn't be extravagant in her spending, she kept to the basic necessities.

  By the time Letty had rung up their purchases and walked them to the door, Jillian had carbolic acid, beeswax for her salve recipe, laudanum and other medicines for her supplies.

  Fifteen minutes later Jillian and Letty were loading her purchases in the back of her buckboard.

  "Don't hesitate to come calling, Jillian, anytime at all. If I'm not here, my house is just up there," she gestured with her hand. "Third house after you pass the boardinghouse. You can't miss it."

  "Thank you. And for all your help with this as well."

  "Well, that's what I'm here for." Suddenly her eyes widened and she snapped her fingers. "The church is having a picnic after this Sunday's service. The whole town usually comes and they have races and games for the children, as well as a craft and bake sale. It would be a good chance to get to know the people around here."

  "I was thinking of riding around some of the farms, introducing myself."

  "You carry a gun?"

  "I have a rifle tied to my saddle."

  "Good girl."

  "You're not saying I'll need to protect myself against this town, are you?"

  Letty shook her head, popped her candy out of her mouth. "Nah, and I'm not sure what stories you've heard back home, but you won't get scalped either. Still there are rattlesnakes and such around here that you don't have back east. Besides, if you were my daughter, I'd tell you to carry it with you. I believe a woman ought to be able to take care of herself."

  "I agree. And I can, but I appreciate the concern."

  "Good. Now then, don't forget the picnic. Eileen and I will be there, so you'll have friends to talk to."

  Friends. Jillian smiled. Those had been in short supply back home. "Thanks, I'll look forward to it, then."

  "Well, don't get too excited. While I expect most around here will accept you with time, the truth is some may never. Speaking of which, here comes just the sort."

  A very prim-looking woman about Letty's age, with her shoulders thrust back, clipped along the boardwalk. Jillian wouldn't have been surprised to see a plank holding them that way. Her head was tilted so high it was a wonder she could see where she was going. As she approached them, her gaze flitted over Jillian. Her brow furrowed and her mouth pinched as though someone had just stuck a lemon into it. Angling her body away from Jillian, she fixed her gaze on Letty.

  "If you have a moment, I need to make some purchases," the woman said. Her voice matched her expression perfectly.

  "Of course, Angela." Letty held open the door, let the woman precede her. "Nice meeting you, Jillian. See you Sunday!"

  From the mercantile, Jillian moved to the post office. Though she was able to send off a letter to her mother informing her that she'd made it safely, the man behind the counter--she had no idea his name as he didn't bother introducing himself--hurried her along as though he couldn't get her out fast enough.

  How, she wondered as she walked her horse and wagon along and was ignored by everyone, could a town look so pretty from the outside and be so mean?

  Still, she said he
llo to everyone she passed. They could ignore her all they liked, but she wouldn't make it easy. She made a point of going into several businesses and introducing herself. Cold politeness met her at every turn.

  It wasn't long before her anger was simmering. Deciding to let it go for today, she guided Hope to the feed mill. She'd get what she needed and go home.

  Inside, a boy about Annabelle's age greeted her. Since it was, other than Letty's, the first real smile she'd seen thus far, she strolled over to the boy.

  "Hello."

  "Hello. Do you need anything?"

  "You work here?" Jillian asked. Most of the bags that lined the wall weighed more than he did.

  "My pa owns the mill. I do chores after school and we were let you early today. I'm Jacob, Jacob Garvey."

  He had tousled blond hair and smudges of dirt on his cheek. She'd never spent much time around children, but one thing she could say about both this boy and Annabelle was that they were honest and open. If only the rest of the town were as smart.

  "Nice to meet you Jacob. I'm Jillian Matthews. I'm the new veterinarian."

  His brown eyes went round. "Really? You can fix animals, make them better?"

  "No, she can't," came the reply from the back of the mill. Striding forward was a tall, wide-shouldered man with a stern face.

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "You weren't able to save Wade's cow, were you?"

  "That was entirely-"

  "Your fault. Now what do you want?"

  Jillian snapped her mouth closed. Was this really how the man conducted his business? Then he could take his superior attitude and-

  "There isn't another feed mill. Closest one is a full day's ride away. In one direction. Now, did you want something or not?"

  She swallowed her pride. For now. But she'd be sure to ask either Letty or Mrs. Parker just where that other feed mill was. Losing two days was a bargain compared to giving this man her hard-earned and, with a buckboard of supplies, her quickly depleting dollars.

  She told him what she required and grudgingly handed over the bills. He sneered as he pocketed the money then jerked his chin toward the wall. "Bags are right there," he pointed. "Come on, Jacob. We have work to do."

 

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