by Debra Cowan
“Goodbye.”
She walked to the door and watched as he climbed into the wagon. He and Davis Lee set off with a squeak of wheels, the horse’s breath a smoky plume on the air.
Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she stepped back inside as Cora hurried in, closing the door.
“What a wonderful day.” The older woman tugged her shawl tighter around her.
“Yes, it was. Thank you so much for the cradle, Cora. And the blanket. They’re both beautiful and the baby needs them so much. I’m overwhelmed.”
“Good. I think people should get at least one gift in their life that overwhelms them.”
Susannah smiled, moving to the table to pick up her driving gloves.
Cora started around the table, then did a double take, craning her neck to study the mistletoe. She shot a look at Susannah and arched an eyebrow.
Biting her lip to keep from smiling, Susannah fled to her room.
“Susannah Phelps, you get back here!”
She laughed and moved to the bed, picking up the soft white blanket Cora had knitted.
Riley was giving her a chance. Warmth showered through Susannah. None of her wonderful gifts today could compare with the compliment Riley had given her. And sharing confidences with him about her family had eased the pain of their separation somewhat.
She’d been wrong about him. Finally, he seemed to accept that she was going to make a life here. That she could belong. She refused to ask herself why that mattered so much.
Riley didn’t think he could choke down this whole biscuit. Susannah looked proud of her efforts, but the bread was hard as wood and tasted like ash.
“Could I get some more of that buttermilk?” he asked on the last Friday night in January.
Davis Lee smothered a cough. “Me, too.”
He and his brother had accepted an invitation from Susannah for dinner. She wanted to thank him for helping her overcome her fear of horses and wanted to include Davis Lee. Riley was glad he wasn’t enjoying this by himself. She’d told him that she had been learning to make Cora’s biscuits and was ready to try out her newly acquired skills.
“I don’t see how Cora does it.” She poured more buttermilk for the men. “She gets everything cooked just right every time. Each time I thought I had it right, I would burn them or mistake the measurements.”
Riley slid a look at Cora, who kept her eyes on her plate.
“Aren’t you going to eat any?” he asked Susannah.
“Oh, yes.” She sat down and picked up a biscuit.
Riley didn’t have the heart to watch her. She made a strangled sound and he glanced up.
Grimacing, she dropped the biscuit onto the plate. “How awful! I am so sorry. Stop eating them this minute.”
“They’re not that bad, Susannah,” Davis Lee said, though he readily put his down.
“You’re too kind, but these are horrid.” Her face fell. “I really thought I had it.”
“I thought so, too,” Cora said.
Trying to encourage Susannah, Riley said, “The stew is good.”
“Cora made that,” she informed him.
“Oh.”
“You’ll get it, honey,” the other woman said.
Susannah rested her chin in her hand. “I’m starting to wonder.”
“Well, how important is cooking, anyway?” Davis Lee asked.
“Yeah.” Riley wanted to lift the despondency from her delicate features. “You’ve got Cora, after all.”
“And the Pearl.”
Susannah laughed. “I guess you’re both trying to make me feel better?”
“Yeah,” they said in unison.
“Maybe y’all should quit trying,” Cora quipped, which got a laugh out of all of them.
A few times since receiving Susannah’s invitation for tonight, Riley had wondered if it had been her idea to cook dinner for him or Cora’s. Since Christmas, Cora had requested his help with several minor tasks, like moving hay from one end of the barn to the other. Or putting the box containing Ollie’s things up into the loft, then moving it back down.
He’d seen Susannah at church, but because they’d postponed their wagon-driving lessons, he hadn’t seen her much else. Her charm school still met each week and was evidently a success, but he didn’t see any need to check for himself.
Cora stood and retrieved a loaf of bread from the pantry. “We can eat this. There’s no harm done.”
“Just to my pride,” Susannah said, but Riley thought she handled it well. In general, she handled things better than he expected. Except cooking.
He grinned.
“Thank goodness Cora has some bread. Edible bread,” she corrected gamely.
They ate their meal, finishing with coffee. Susannah poured and Riley noted that, despite her advanced condition, she moved gracefully. Her skin glowed and her blue eyes sparkled. She grew more beautiful every time he saw her.
Her dark green dress complimented her. She wore her hair pulled back in a loose braid. Riley itched to undo the blond strands and run his hands through the thick silk. The long curls looked like liquid sunshine, and even from across the table he caught a whiff of her soft vanilla scent.
A knock sounded on the door and Cora opened it to admit Jake Ross. Riley wondered what had happened to bring one of Davis Lee’s new deputies to Cora’s.
His brother stood. “Something going on, Jake?”
The quiet man pulled off his hat and nodded to the women before answering. “There’s a Ranger waiting in your office. Said he’d come by to see you. Since you weren’t far, I offered to fetch you.”
“All right.” Davis Lee slipped on his coat and pulled his hat from the peg behind the door. “Susannah, thank you for the meal. It was very nice.”
“I appreciate you staying and I hope those biscuits didn’t break off any teeth.”
He chuckled and started out the door. “Thanks, Cora. I’ll talk to y’all later.”
“Good night,” Cora said.
She, Riley and Susannah walked out to the porch with Davis Lee.
“Let me know if you need help with anything before I go back to the ranch,” Riley called after his brother. The sissy. Those hard-as-rock biscuits had sent him skedaddling out of here faster than a husband-hunting woman.
“Will do.”
Riley turned, noticing that only Cora stood on the porch. “Where’s Susannah?”
“She went out to gather the eggs.” Cora hurried back inside. “With all her preparations for dinner, she forgot to do it earlier.”
“Should she be out there alone?”
“Probably not.” Cora grinned. “Why don’t you help her?”
Riley shook his head at her obvious attempt. “Did she take a lantern?”
“Yes. And her wrap.”
“Good.” He shrugged into his coat and pulled the door shut.
He walked around the house and toward the pale yellow lantern light glowing outside the chicken coop. A light fog drifted through the night, haloing Susannah where she stood at the henhouse. Prissy nickered softly, chewing her way through a patch of brown grass several feet from Susannah.
Susannah lifted the lantern from the hook next to the door and placed it inside, but what happened next was a blur. He saw a low dark shape at the corner of the chicken coop, heard a growl.
Susannah screamed and Prissy lunged into action. The mare barreled around Susannah, grazing her with a shoulder and knocking her down.
The horse slid to a stop, putting herself between Susannah and whatever stood at the corner of the chicken coop.
Heart clenching, Riley bolted for her. He’d left his gun in the wagon, dammit. Was it a dog?
Prissy put her head down and blew sharply, her breath curling into the air. A warning. A challenge. Riley’s heart pumped painfully.
Susannah lay unmoving on the ground, not making a sound. Another growl and the mare advanced, shielding Susannah’s body with her own.
Riley could now identify the
animal in front of Prissy. A coyote. It must’ve come looking for food. Chickens.
“Are you all right?” he asked in a low voice, easing his way forward.
She nodded. Her breathing was ragged and harsh. Or maybe that was his own.
“Lie still.” He neared and reached slowly for the lantern, intending to use it as a weapon. The smells of fear and kerosene and animal flesh were strong in his nostrils.
Prissy reared and struck out with her right foreleg. The coyote wheeled and disappeared into the darkness. Prissy’s breath curled into the night.
“Did you see what Prissy did?” Susannah asked in a labored voice. “She protected me.”
“Yes.” Riley knelt beside her, his gaze sliding over her body, probing the shadows.
“What if that coyote had hurt her?”
“Coyotes won’t attack a grown horse or cattle unless they’re sick or weak.” He couldn’t spot any blood and she didn’t appear to be in pain. “How’s the baby? Are you hurt? How do you feel?”
“I think I’m all right. I had the wind knocked out of me—oh.” She sucked in a breath. “Ooh, my stomach.”
Panic knifed through him. “I’m going to carry you in.”
He scooped her up, her dark skirts billowing. “Can you put your arm around my neck?”
Her face contorted in pain. One arm looped limply over his shoulder and she buried her face in his chest. He felt her body tense, and hurried his steps, trying not to jostle her unnecessarily.
“What happened?” Cora came running around the side of the house. “I heard Prissy.”
“It was a coyote,” Riley explained as he moved past her and onto the porch.
She hurried around him to push open the front door.
Once inside, he headed for Susannah’s bedroom. “She’s having some pain. I think we need to get the doctor.”
“Yes.” The older woman picked up a lamp and followed him.
He ducked through the curtain that served as Susannah’s door and laid her carefully on the bed. The candlelight played over her skin, making it look pale and waxy. Her lips were drawn tight with pain.
“Susannah?”
She opened her eyes and looked at him, her hands cradling her stomach protectively. “It hurts, Riley.”
Her voice tore at him and he said hoarsely, “I’ll get the doctor.”
He turned for the door, the candlelight showing the concern on Cora’s face. “It shouldn’t take me long.”
“I’ll make her comfortable.”
Riley nodded and stepped around her. Cora’s indrawn breath had him glancing at her, then following her gaze to his arm. A dark stain smeared his forearm. Blood. Susannah’s blood.
Chapter Eleven
Riley barely remembered the cold ride through the night to Fort Greer for Dr. Butler. It wasn’t until they returned and the doctor went in to check Susannah that his brain seemed to unseize.
Was she going to be all right? What about the baby? What if Prissy hadn’t been out there? What if that coyote had hurt Susannah?
Seeing her lying on the ground motionless had twisted Riley’s gut into knots. And he couldn’t forget the sight of her blood on his arm.
She’d been conscious, he reminded himself. She’d talked to him. That meant she’d be all right, didn’t it?
The doctor was taking his sweet damn time in there. What was taking so long?
Cora sat quietly, but Riley’s nerves were so raw he couldn’t sit still. He paced from one end of the front room to the other.
“She’ll be okay,” Cora said quietly.
He nodded, but only because he didn’t know what else to do. When would Dr. Butler come out?
The tall, middle-aged man stepped past Susannah’s curtain and let it drop before moving to the kitchen table. “She’s suffered some trauma.”
“Oh, no.” Tears brimmed in Cora’s eyes.
“I think the baby’s all right, for now,” the doctor added quickly, his brown eyes reassuring. “But Susannah has to stay in bed until she delivers.”
“There was blood.” Riley’s voice sounded hoarse and harsh, foreign.
“Yes, but it’s stopped now. The reason I want her to stay in bed is so the bleeding won’t start again. If we can keep that from happening, I think both she and the baby will do fine.”
Riley nodded, the crushing band around his chest easing enough to let him get a breath.
“Her pain has subsided, but if it comes back, I need to know.”
Both Cora and Riley nodded.
The doctor placed his leather bag on the table and opened it, the lantern light catching the few strands of silver in his dark hair. “I’ve given her something to help her sleep.”
“Will it hurt the baby?” Cora asked.
“No. It’s a tea I made from cinnamon, blackberry leaves and a couple of other herbs.” He pulled a white cloth pouch from his bag. “My wife drank this when carrying our first child and I’ve had success with other patients several times since. Susannah needs to drink a half cup to one cup a day. If she can’t stand the taste, you can boil some black haw bark. That will also help without harming her or the babe.”
Cora took the pouch he offered. “Just steep the tea in water?”
“Yes. Now, I don’t want her doing anything until that baby comes. Understood?” He leveled a look at both Riley and Cora.
Riley nodded, though he figured Cora would do just fine keeping Susannah in line.
The doctor walked to the door, buttoning his coat. “I’ll check in on her tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Doc.” Cora gave him a chunk of venison she’d wrapped in cloth, and a loaf of bread. “Let me know if I owe you more than this.”
“This is plenty. Enough to pay me for five visits. Thank you.”
“Thanks for coming so quick.”
Dr. Butler gave a tired smile as he settled his cowboy hat on his head. “You can thank Mr. Holt for that. I thought he was about ready to throw me over his own horse if I didn’t move faster.”
Riley stuck out his hand. “We appreciate it.”
After the doctor left, Riley lifted the curtain and peeked in on Susannah. Her head was turned toward the wall and she appeared to be sleeping.
He walked over to look out the window to the left of the front door.
“I’m so glad you were here,” Cora said. “I wouldn’t have felt right leaving Susannah to go for the doctor.”
Riley murmured agreement, his gaze fixed on the darkness beyond, not searching, not probing, just staring. The relief he’d felt upon hearing the doctor say Susannah was all right and that she hadn’t lost the baby retreated behind a frigid blackness, a hollow gnawing in his gut.
He’d cleaned her blood from his arm, but it might as well have still been there. He kept seeing her fall to the ground. The chilling growl of the coyote echoed in his head. Tremors had racked her body as he’d carried her inside, ruthlessly reminding him of how vulnerable she was.
“Riley, do you want some coffee?”
He could tell by the insistent way Cora spoke that she’d asked him more than once. “Got anything stronger?”
“I think there’s a little of Ollie’s whiskey left.”
“That would be good.” He rubbed a hand across his neck, recalling the sweat that had broken when he’d spied Susannah’s blood on his arm.
He downed the measly two fingers of liquor with a desperate anticipation and yet tasted nothing. Felt only the burn, the warmth. But it wasn’t warm enough.
Cora sat at the table and sipped her coffee. The stark concern finally faded from her eyes, but she looked haggard.
“You have to do something,” he said flatly, still fighting the chill inside that felt strangely like fear.
“I’ll see that she rests, like Doc Butler said.”
“I don’t mean that.” Riley splayed his hands on his hips, then drummed his fingers on the table. “She needs to go home. You can convince her.”
“Go home?” Cora set down he
r cup with a thud.
“To St. Louis.”
“I know what you meant. Why would I want to send her home? Not that I could.”
“Look at what happened tonight, Cora.” Pacing again, he tried to gentle his fierce tone, surprised at the savage emotions boiling inside him.
She frowned.
“Susannah doesn’t belong here.” He realized then that he’d started to accept that she might. Maybe it had been Davis Lee’s urging to give her a chance. Maybe it had been her own determination to fit in. Whatever it was, Riley saw now that even he had started to believe she did belong. “It’s too dangerous. She’s not prepared to live here.”
“Prepared to live here? Just what does that mean? Are you addlepated, boy? Maybe you’re the one who fell out there.”
“She’s from the city. A settled area.” He paused in front of the table, then resumed his measured steps. “She’s led a sheltered life.”
Cora studied him for a long moment. “What’s really going on, Riley?”
“I told you.”
“You’re frightened for her. So am I. But she’s strong, a survivor.” The older woman shook a finger at him. “I know one when I see one.”
“You can convince her. I’ll pay for her ticket back to St. Louis and wire Adam to tell him—”
“No. She’s a grown woman. It’s her decision, not yours.”
“Next time, it could be worse. What if something terrible happens to her? Or the baby?”
“Nothing dangerous happened to me and I lost my baby,” Cora reminded him quietly. “There’s no way to predict everything in life.”
Riley felt as if he’d ripped open her soul. He stopped pacing and looked at his friend. “I’m sorry, Cora. I didn’t mean to bring up old hurts, but I know you don’t want anything else to happen to Susannah.”
“It’s not in my hands, and it’s not in yours, either.”
“Don’t you see the sense in her leaving?” Frustration clawed through him.
Cora smiled wanly. “I see you’re worried and I don’t blame you, but running her off isn’t the answer.”
He drew back. “I’m not running her off.”
“She’s going to do just fine. She is doing just fine.”
“She said she told you the truth.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “That you know she came here only out of desperation.”
