Love Finds You in Last Chance, California

by Miralee Ferrell

  Martha put the lid back on the pot she’d been stirring. “I think he’s taking a nap. Would you wake him, dear? It’s almost time for supper.”

  Alex could count on the fingers of one hand how many times she’d heard of Uncle Joe napping, and most of those were in the days after his fall.

  She headed for his room and tapped on his door. “Uncle Joe? It’s Alex. May I come in?”

  An indistinguishable reply sounded inside. The bedsprings squeaked, and she heard feet thump on the floor. “Sure. Door’s open.”

  A rumpled Joe met her gaze when Alex pushed open the door. “Are you all right?”

  A scowl crossed his face, but then it faded and a small smile took its place. “I’m fine, darlin’. Just a mite tired. My hip’s been botherin’ me and I haven’t been sleepin’ too well. I’m right as rain now, though, after that little rest.” He tugged on his boots. “Supper ready?”

  She sank down on the cotton-ticked mattress beside him and slipped her hand through his arm. “Yes. It’s on the table, and we’ve asked Justin and Toby to join us.” After a short pause, she asked, “What do you think of him, Uncle?”

  His serious eyes couldn’t quite hide the twinkle threatening to escape. “I think Toby’s a right fine little boy and this old place could use a little scamp like him runnin’ around, livening it up again.”

  She shook his arm. “You know very well who I meant. I’ll tell Martha not to feed you any pie, if you keep that up.”

  “Oh, you meant Phillips senior? Well, now. From what I could tell, he seems an all-right fella. You thinkin’ of hirin’ him?”

  “I am. As long as you agree. But I’m still not sure about the boy….”

  Uncle Joe drew himself up. “You leave the boy to me and Martha. I think that young’un could use some motherin’, and Martha’s just the one to do it. And you’d best be asking his father to stay in the house, as well.”

  “Why? Our wranglers don’t stay in the house. That’s what the bunkhouse is for.”

  Joe shook his head and peered at her. “Not when they have a child that age. It’s no fit place for a youngster. Some of our men are rough, and the boy’s too young to be around them. ’Sides—what about the times his pa will have to help with foaling at night or some other chore? Who’s goin’ to care for the boy if he wakes scared or needs to be tended for some reason?”

  Alex tipped back her head and looked at the ceiling, hating the logic of his words but knowing they were sound. “What will the rest of the men think? Won’t they see it as favoritism? And how about the townspeople? They already think poorly of me. Not that I care.” She shrugged. “But he’s not married, and it might be unseemly having him in the house.”

  Joe stood, gripped her arm, and lifted her to her feet. “You’re the boss now, Alex, and you’d best remember that.” He gently turned her to face him. “It don’t matter what others think, if you decide it’s the right thing to do. Besides, Martha and I are enough of a chaperone to suit anyone. Don’t question your decisions or allow others to, neither. Stand firm and take charge, or you’ll have more men quittin’.”

  “You’re right.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. Now let’s go to dinner, before Martha decides that neither one of us deserves any pie.”

  He chuckled and shooed her out the door. “Right you are, my girl. Right you are.”

  Justin stood behind his chair. His head felt as if he were swimming and he’d not quite come up for air. The vision in blue that had drifted into the room a few minutes earlier didn’t in the least resemble the woman who’d ridden out after the horses. Her long hair hung loose around her shoulders, and the setting sun coming through the windows had cast a golden-red glow on the brown curls. A flash of pink tinged her cheeks, and her skirts swished around her slender hips when she entered the room.

  He shook his head. No time to get sentimental over a woman. Hadn’t he learned his lesson with Molly? Maybe he’d made a mistake, coming out here and asking for a job. But he’d promised Travers, and he’d never once broken his word. He didn’t plan to start now, no matter how many pretty daughters appeared.

  Martha came into the room with Toby in her arms. “We’ve not had a little one at the table for many a year. Guess Joe’ll need to build the boy a chair so’s he can reach his plate.” She sat the toddler down on the bench and turned to pull a couple of books off of a nearby shelf.

  Justin lifted Toby from the bench and waited for Martha to slip the books under the boy before setting him back down. “There’s no need for that, ma’am. I have a chair in the wagon that I built, back at Miss Alice’s. Besides, I don’t imagine we’ll be taking regular meals with you.”

  Martha left the room and returned shortly, her hands filled with a steaming platter of roast beef that made Justin’s mouth water. She set the platter down and beckoned to Alex. “Let’s get the rest of the food on the table. Joe’s starvin’, and I reckon so is this young man.” She rumpled Toby’s hair and winked.

  “Yep. Toby starvin’.” the little boy parroted with a grin and a big nod.

  Martha waved Justin to the seat beside Toby and walked briskly back to the kitchen. Joe slipped into his seat across from Justin. The ladies brought the rest of the food and took their seats.

  Justin waited, not sure if he should begin. The creamy mashed potatoes almost drew his hand to the serving spoon against his volition, but he kept his arms by his sides. This wasn’t his house, or even the boardinghouse, and he had no desire to shame himself in front of strangers.

  Joe reached for Alex’s hand, and she stretched her other one out toward Martha. Justin watched, puzzled at the move, but he gripped Martha’s hand when she reached for his.

  “How ’bout me?” Toby waved his small hand in the air. Justin chuckled and grasped the boy’s fingers.

  The rest of the heads at the table bowed, and Joe’s booming voice filled the quiet room. “Father, we thank You for this wonderful food. We thank You for these visitors in our midst and for our family. Bless this food, we pray. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  A soft murmur of amens filled the room, and Martha’s firm grip relaxed, allowing Justin’s hand to drop. He should’ve guessed they’d pray before the meal. It had been years since he’d thought to thank God for food—or for anything else—but something about the gesture warmed his heart.

  “Papa?” Toby tugged on his sleeve. “I hungry, Papa. We eat now?”

  Martha passed the bowl of potatoes to Justin with a sweet smile. “Serve your boy first then yourself.”

  The next few minutes were spent passing the food and sampling the variety of dishes. Homemade applesauce tasted like heaven with warm bread right out of the oven. Miss Alice could cook, but this went beyond simple good cooking. This was a feast.

  It had been awhile since Justin had sat with ladies such as these at a supper table. He tried to remember the niceties his mother had taught him, and he took care not to talk with food in his mouth or place his elbows on the table—two things that would earn him a thunk on the head by his father when he was growing up.

  After two servings of pie, Justin laid his napkin on the table and sighed. “That was the best meal I’ve eaten in months. No—make that years.”

  Martha’s face shone as though illuminated by the midday sun. “Why, thank you kindly.” She glanced at Toby and back at Justin. “Looks like your little man is starting to droop. Want I should take him in the parlor and rock him for a bit?”

  Justin stood and reached for Toby, drawing him to his chest. “We should be getting back to the boardinghouse.” He nodded at Alex and Joe. “I appreciate your hospitality.” He turned toward Martha and smiled. “And thank you for your kind care of my boy, ma’am.”

  Alex rose and glanced at Joe then back at Justin. “I wonder if you’d mind having a cup of coffee with us in the parlor, while Martha rocks Toby? We’d like to talk about the job.”

  Justin rubbed Toby’s back and ran a hand over the tousled hair. “Sure.
Guess a few more minutes won’t hurt, if you’re sure you don’t mind.” He looked at Martha.

  The older woman beamed. “Not at all. Just bring him on in.” She led the way across the dining room and into a cozy parlor near the front of the house. A cheerful fire burned on the grate, and brightly colored knit throws lay over the backs of the chairs and the sofa.

  Justin placed the dozing boy in Martha’s lap and took the chair Joe offered.

  Alex settled into an upholstered chair near the fire and turned her face toward Joe. The firelight cast a soft glow on her face and magnified a somewhat wistful look that hovered around the finely chiseled mouth. “Joe, I’d appreciate it if you’d explain to Mr. Phillips what we discussed.”

  Joe sank into the sofa near Alex and nodded his gray head. “Yep, just gettin’ to that.” He trained his serious gaze on Justin. “We’re offerin’ you a job and a place to live. Both you and the boy, if’n you care to accept.”

  Justin ran his hand around the rim of his hat and met Joe’s eyes. “I do, and I thank you. We can move our belongings into the bunkhouse tomorrow, if that suits you.”

  Joe wagged his head and tapped his cane on the braided rug at his feet, making a dull thump. “No, sir. No bunkhouse for you or the boy. Both of you will stay in this house. We have a big room upstairs that’ll do right fine. The boy needs to be where Martha can help look after him.”

  He held up a gnarled hand when Justin started to speak. “Hear me out. Martha can’t be trottin’ back and forth to the bunkhouse at night when you’re on duty, and a boy that age don’t need to be around our wranglers.” He grunted and shook his head. “Leastwise, not in close quarters. You take the job, we’ll expect you to stay in the house.” His bushy brows lowered over the piercing eyes, and his hand gripped the head of the cane.

  Justin held back a smile, and his thoughts turned to Ben Travers. He understood how the two old codgers had become such friends. They shared the same bulldog tenacity and an expectation of getting their own way. He hazarded a glance at Alex and, judging by the firm set of her mouth and tilt of her chin, guessed she’d inherited some of the same.

  He sat back in his chair and nodded. “Fine. The house it is. But I’ll be returning to the boardinghouse tonight to pick up the rest of my things and to let Miss Alice know I’m moving.”

  Martha continued her rocking but spoke in a quiet voice. “Why not leave the boy here? You’ve mentioned he’s used to staying with strangers. He’s asleep and won’t know you’re gone till tomorrow.”

  Justin hesitated, hating the thought of leaving Toby again. But he saw the wisdom in the housekeeper’s suggestion and relaxed. “I agree. We’ll get him tucked in, and if he doesn’t wake, I’ll let him stay.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Alex raised her hand to knock on Miss Alice’s door. Conflicting thoughts raged in her mind and nearly spun her back to her horse. Maybe Frank would’ve been a better choice to help with this chore than Justin. But she needed Frank at the ranch, and Justin was already in town. She shrugged and lifted her hand to knock, following through this time.

  She glanced down at her worn boots and snugly fitting trousers. She’d left her town dress hanging on its hook in her bedroom, breaking one of her father’s earliest rules. But it couldn’t be helped. The new horses were arriving today and she couldn’t handle an unknown stallion and mares in a dress.

  Miss Alice threw open the door with a flourish and emitted what sounded like a high-pitched little crow. “Well, I never. Alexia Travers. What brings you to my door so early?” Her glance traveled from Alex’s long-sleeved shirt down to her belt, pants, and boots and back up again to her braided hair. “Looks like a right smart outfit. Wish I could get away with it,” she chuckled. “I declare—these skirts sure do get in the way of a body’s work sometimes.” She stepped back from the door and beckoned. “Come in, come in. And pardon my chatter. I’ve got a pot of tea on.”

  Alex grinned and gave the tiny woman a warm hug. “Thanks. I came by to talk to my new employee, Justin Phillips.”

  “Oh my, he’s already gone.” The sparrowlike woman shook her head. “I think he’s over at the stable, getting his horse. He told me he’s moving to your ranch today.”

  Alex glanced out the front window and then back to Miss Alice. “I’m sorry I can’t stay and visit. I’d best catch Justin before he heads out of town. I’ll come back when I have more time and take you up on that cup of tea.”

  She stepped out the door and down the steps to her waiting horse. Swinging into the saddle, she turned the horse away from the hitching rail and onto the hard-packed street toward the stable. The early hour hadn’t discouraged a few hardy souls from venturing out. Most of the miners were busy at their diggings, but a half dozen locals moved in or out of businesses along the town’s main street.

  The crisp, high mountain air tickled Alex’s neck and made her thankful for the warm woolen jacket. Nights could still be crisp at this elevation.

  She drew abreast of the blacksmith’s shop and pulled her horse to a halt. The large wooden door squealed as someone rolled it aside.

  Justin stepped out, squinting against the bright morning sun, and paused when his gaze landed on Alex. “Well, howdy, Miss Travers. I was just headed to your place.”

  “I hoped I’d catch you. The stallion and mares my father purchased are arriving this morning, and I need your help. They came by train to Auburn. Since we’re short-handed, I hired drovers to bring them up the trail.”

  “Uh-huh.” Justin swung up into his saddle. “I assume they’ll be coming up the trail through Foresthill and on through Robinson Flat the way I came. If so, there’s no danger of missing them.”

  Alex clucked to her gelding. “No. That’s the long way. The drovers will bring them through Michigan Bluff and across to Deadwood. It’s less than half the distance, but the trail’s only used by pack trains and horses. Too rough for wagons. We should meet up with them in the next hour or so.”

  The man standing beside the hotel watched Justin and Alex trot out of town then spat and cursed. Something had to be done. Rumor had it her new horses were arriving today, and that cowboy was settling in fast. He saddled up his horse and headed down the trail for Auburn.

  Alex and Justin urged their horses into a trot as they hit the edge of town and kept up the ground-eating pace for several miles with sparse conversation. Alex fought the temptation to ply Justin with questions; his past wasn’t her business. Instead, she clamped her lips shut and concentrated on the rocky terrain as they descended in elevation. Small rocks rolled under their horses’ hooves, and they reined the animals around trees downed by the last big windstorm that hit the mountains.

  Finally, Alex’s curiosity got the better of her. “So, you and Toby traveled here from Nevada?”

  He threw a glance her way. “Yep.”

  She averted her gaze and sighed. “What kind of work did you do there?”

  He checked his mount at a steep declivity in the trail then eased the horse forward at a slower pace. “Ranch work mostly, with a little carpentry from time to time.”

  “Carpentry? You’re handy with tools?”

  He shrugged and smiled. “Don’t know how good I am, but I get by.”

  “I’ll remember that, if you don’t mind. Papa had a knack for building, but Uncle Joe hates swinging a hammer—unless Martha pushes him hard.”

  “Sure. Glad to help,” he drawled and then lapsed into the familiar silence that had accompanied them the first few miles.

  Alex knew she’d have to content herself with the little information Justin had chosen to give, as his impassive face didn’t encourage her to ask more. Maybe after he’d been on the ranch for a while, she’d venture a question or two more. She shrugged. Folks round here said all that mattered was what a man was now—not what he’d been. But a small voice still niggled in the back of her mind. She knew Justin had been married, and she couldn’t help wondering what had happened to his wife. Did he lay awake at ni
ght missing her?

  Alex lassoed her thoughts and drew them close, not willing to travel any further down this imaginary path. Justin Phillips was a stranger who’d more than likely move on before long. He probably needed a grubstake and nothing more. Besides, he’d made it clear that he’d been widowed only a few months. It wouldn’t be very kind of Alex to start asking about his deceased wife.

  Justin drew to a stop ahead of Alex and held up his hand. “Horses coming.”

  Alex mentally kicked herself for being so deep in thought that she’d missed the approaching riders. It was certainly not the image she wanted to present to the new hand—that he could lead while she spent her time daydreaming. She spurred her horse and trotted up alongside. “Yeah, I hear them. Let’s wait in that meadow.”

  They reined their horses onto the grassy patch of land on the right side of the trail but didn’t dismount. A man’s voice shouted something indistinguishable, and then two men driving three horses trotted into view, with a haltered stallion behind.

  Alex urged her mount forward and swung in beside the lead mare. She noted Justin doing the same on the far side. With the help of the drovers, they turned the small band into the meadow of lush grass. A black bay mare snorted and rushed past Alex, heading for the open trail and back down the way they’d come. Alex swung her gelding around but then drew to a stop. Justin had spurred his stallion into a run and circled around the mare, turning her back to the stamping, restless band.

  He sat back hard in his saddle and slid his horse to a stop beside Alex. “That mare is quick. She’ll produce some fine, fast foals that’ll cover some distance.”

  Alex stared at her new hand, amused at the number of words he’d strung together. She grinned. “Yeah. They’re supposed to be in foal to the stallion, and they’re due early next spring. If we like what we see, we’ll stand him to a few dozen of our mares.”