by Linda Ford
Dolly found a dark green shapeless dress that she eased over her head. Holding Smokey, she stood at the door, her eyes wide.
Despite the need to hurry, Beatrice knelt at the child’s side. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you that you are going to live here until your aunt Martha comes to get you.”
“With you?” Another whisper.
“Yes, and with Levi and his mama. She’s hurt her leg so can’t move around much so we have to help her.”
“I’ll be very quiet.”
Beatrice thought if Dolly got any quieter she would become mute.
“Levi’s cousin Charlie might be here, too.” She wasn’t sure of Charlie’s plans. Nor did she know when Big Sam would return and decided it was best to not mention him at the moment. “We all want you to feel happy and safe.” She was certain she could speak for the others. After all, who wouldn’t want that for a child? “Okay? Are you ready?”
Dolly nodded, but Beatrice noticed that poor little Smokey was getting squeezed extra tight. She rubbed the kitten’s head. “She’s such a good kitty.”
Dolly nodded again.
Beatrice hoped the child hadn’t decided to never talk again. She took Dolly’s hand and together they crossed the sitting room and into the kitchen, where Levi stood over the stove and the smell of coffee filled the air.
Maisie looked up at their approach. “I heard we have a little visitor. You must be Dolly.” She held out her hand, but Dolly pressed to Beatrice’s side.
Maisie wisely ignored the behavior and spoke to Beatrice. “I trust you had a good sleep.”
“Yes, fine.”
Levi had turned from the stove and watched them.
Beatrice brought her gaze to his, felt the power of his dark eyes and something more. As if their shared experiences of the previous day had drawn them together. She tried to pull her gaze from his, to right her thoughts from thinking that the day had signified anything special. Not that she desired anything special.
He looked away first, then drank his cup of coffee and set it down. “I have to look after chores. Can you manage in here?”
The fragile feeling of the moment lay shattered at her feet. He saw only her inadequacies. She drew back her chin. He would not see another failure in meal preparation. “I can manage just fine, thank you.”
* * *
Levi had meant his question to be helpful but she’d taken it as uncertainty about her abilities. He strode through the door. Well, if supper last night was any indication, she’d given him good reason to have doubts.
Charlie moseyed from the bunkhouse, still adjusting his shirt. His eyes were shadowed, his hair mussed, but he quickly donned his hat to hide it. He saw Levi and shifted his direction, as if he wanted to avoid meeting him.
Levi changed direction, too, and fell in at his side. “Charlie, I got to say you look like you were trampled by a herd of buffalo.”
“Yeah? Feel like it, too. What was you up to last night? I heard you riding in way after dark. Sure makes it hard for a man to get a good night’s sleep.”
“Sorry.” He told of finding Dolly and her dead parents.
Charlie ground to a halt, all annoyance gone from his expression. “Ah, that’s hard. So the little girl is staying here until her aunt comes.”
“That’s the plan.”
“A pretty young woman and a little girl. Cousin, it sounds to me like you’re growing domesticated.”
“I have no such intentions.”
“Still missing Helen?”
Levi ignored the hard tone in Charlie’s voice. Nor would he ask why Charlie made it sound like Levi was foolish to still be missing her. He would never tell anyone that his pain from missing her was but a fraction of the pain he felt at being rejected for being a half-breed. Though if anyone would understand, it might be Charlie.
“Time you got over her and looked for a decent woman.”
Again that hint that Helen had not been the sort of woman Levi deserved. But then, what sort did he deserve? Certainly not a city girl like Beatrice. Or any white woman. And the native ladies considered him too white for their liking.
He’d come to accept it wasn’t necessarily his heritage, but he himself that was the problem. “We best get the chores done and head on in for breakfast.”
Charlie whooped with laughter.
Levi cringed. Sometimes Charlie was so loud.
“Do you guess we’ll have raw eggs and burnt toast?” Charlie asked.
“All that matters is that Maisie stays off her feet.”
“Can’t say as I agree. A man can only do so much work on poor food.” Charlie managed to sound regretful, but Levi suspected he would welcome the excuse to get out of the menial chores he considered beneath him.
“You get the cow milked and I’ll check the stock.” He strode away before Charlie could voice the argument Levi saw building. As it was, he heard his cousin muttering as Levi rounded the barn, intent on checking the breeding stock first.
His eyes narrowed as he studied the gate. Someone had tampered with it, because it wasn’t closed exactly the way he did it. He checked the ground and made out a set of boot prints that were larger than either his or Charlie’s boots. The troublemakers had been around again, but had done no harm. It unsettled him. What were they up to? Did they mean only to harass, or were their plans more dangerous and they had simply been interrupted before they could carry them out?
He circled the rest of the ranch, checking gates, checking on the pigs, the chickens and the cookhouse, and peering into every building whether it was empty or full.
Nothing seemed amiss. It should have made him relax but it only made his tension mount. He did not like this constant uncertainty. He must track the troublemakers down and put a stop to this nonsense.
But how could he get away for any length of time with Maisie laid up, a child visiting, Charlie grousing about the chores that needed doing and Beatrice...?
And Beatrice? Her presence was supposed to make it easier for him to get away. He could not explain why it did quite the opposite.
Charlie dumped a bucket of milk in the pig trough, returned to the cookhouse and emerged with a cloth-covered jug. He turned toward the house.
Levi fell in at his side.
“Do I smell bacon?” Charlie asked.
Levi sniffed. “Think you do.”
“Does it smell burned?”
Levi sniffed again. “Can’t say it does.”
They lengthened their strides in a hurry to get to the bacon before it started to burn. “Morning,” Charlie said, as they entered the house. “So you’re the little girl who is visiting?”
Dolly stood at Beatrice’s side and at Charlie’s exuberance, shrank into the folds of her skirts. Beatrice lowered a hand to Dolly’s shoulder and pressed her even closer.
“It’s okay,” Levi said to the child. “This is my cousin Charlie and he has a loud voice.”
Charlie grunted a protest. “I’m not loud.”
“Yes, you are,” Dolly whispered.
Levi chuckled and met Beatrice’s eyes, feeling pleased when he saw she shared his amusement. What was there about her eyes that made him feel pulled out of himself and into a field of scented roses and golden light?
“Breakfast is ready,” Beatrice said. She seemed a little breathless. Or was it that he heard the rapid beating of his own heart?
“Everyone sit down,” Maisie said and they did so.
He managed to say grace at Maisie’s request, though he could not remember what he said. It was the smell of bacon, he told himself, that had him so confused. After all, supper last night had left him hungry. He slipped four fried eggs from the platter and a generous amount of bacon. The bread wasn’t toasted, but that was probably a good thing considering the crispy, bl
ackened edges on each egg. But breakfast was edible and both he and Charlie ate eagerly.
After a bit, they both slowed down and slathered jam on slices of bread.
Charlie held his knife in one hand as he began to speak. “Levi, you should be more careful about closing the gate on the horses. If I hadn’t seen it was open, the horses would have gotten out.”
“I always close it carefully.”
“Well, someone else must have opened it then. ’Cause I didn’t.” Charlie sounded defensive.
“I didn’t mean to imply you did. Just forget it.” The sooner the better, as he hadn’t told Maisie about the troublemakers. Hoping to divert the interest he saw in his stepmother’s eyes, he spoke to Beatrice. “Breakfast is good. Thanks.”
Her cheeks blossomed like pink roses. “You’re welcome. I’m learning.”
“Levi?” Maisie said.
He held Beatrice’s gaze a second longer. Not only because he didn’t want to face Maisie, but also because he enjoyed how Beatrice’s eyes shifted color, revealing her emotions. Right now they were dark as burnished gold filled with a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure.
“Levi, what’s this about someone opening the gate?” Maisie’s voice was firm, demanding his full attention.
He turned to her. “I might have been a little careless yesterday what with all that happened.” He hoped she’d accept his explanation. After all, how often did he rescue a beautiful woman and a little girl in the same day? Not to mention his cousin.
But even before she spoke, he knew from the disbelief in her eyes that he had failed to convince her.
“Levi, you are never careless. Now tell me what’s going on.”
“Yes, ma’am.” There was no point in trying to ignore her. He’d learned that a long time ago.
Dolly left her chair and crowded to Beatrice’s side, her eyes wide with concern. “Did he do something bad?” she whispered to Beatrice.
Maisie chuckled. “Levi never does anything bad.”
“Never?” Dolly considered him with awe.
“But he sometimes tries to keep secrets,” Maisie said, her voice gentle.
Levi knew Maisie’s gentle voice carried unyielding stubbornness. He had wanted to spare her the worry of knowing what was going on. But Charlie’s careless comment now made that impossible. “It’s nothing to concern you. Any of you,” he added for Beatrice’s sake. “Probably just some youngsters away from home for the first time who think it’s funny to get into mischief.”
“What sort of mischief?” Maisie asked, insisting on knowing all the details.
He would only give her enough to stop her from asking for more. “A gate left open now and then. I expect whoever is responsible hides somewhere nearby watching for me to discover it and then has a good laugh about the trick they played on me. Just harmless fun.”
Maisie studied him with knowing eyes but he held her gaze unblinkingly. Finally she blinked. “It doesn’t sound like harmless fun to me.”
“Probably city boys who don’t understand what they’re doing.” He reached for his coffee cup, knowing it was empty, and managed to look surprised then glanced at Beatrice. His surprise grew real at the hard look she gave him, her eyes narrowed, her lips pressed tight. What had he done? Or said? He stifled a desire to bang the heel of his hand on his forehead. His comment about city boys could be construed as a criticism of city people in general. “They don’t know any better,” he said by way of explanation and apology.
Her look did not change.
Charlie nudged him. “I think you put your foot in your mouth, cousin.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Levi said with some despair and rose to fill his coffee cup. Not until he sat down again did he realize it might have been wiser to forget more coffee because now he was forced to drink it, all the while enduring a harsh look from Beatrice and a disbelieving one from Maisie. He dropped his gaze to Dolly. And a frightened one from her.
He forgot the other two and focused on the child, wanting to reassure her. “It’s okay, Dolly. No one is angry.”
“You sound angry.”
He wondered why she never spoke above a whisper.
“I’m not. Ma, are you?”
“No, I’m not angry.”
He turned to Beatrice. “Are you angry?”
Her expression softened as she pulled Dolly close. “I’m not angry.”
“Me, either,” said Charlie.
Dolly relaxed but still pressed to Beatrice’s side.
He felt Maisie’s continued study of him and knew she had more questions that he didn’t want to answer, and especially not in front of the child and the city gal who might construe the situation to be more dangerous than he thought it was. He downed his coffee, grateful it wasn’t scalding hot, and pushed away from the table. “I’ve got to take care of the stock.” He hurried from the house before anyone could stop him.
A laughing Charlie caught up to him halfway across the yard. “You can run, cousin, but you can’t hide.”
Levi slowed his steps. “Who’s running?”
“You know Aunt Maisie wants to know more about these city boys and what Aunt Maisie wants, Aunt Maisie gets.”
“Huh!” He wasn’t going to confess he feared exactly that. “Besides, I don’t know if it’s city boys. I only suggested that so they wouldn’t worry.”
Charlie laughed loudly. “I don’t think the city girl liked hearing city boys talked about like that.”
“I guess not.” He wished he could retract the words but he couldn’t. And the whole situation reminded him of the vast difference between him, a half-breed cowboy, and her, a well-to-do city girl.
But why was such a girl in Montana and insisting she needed a job?
* * *
Beatrice stared after the departing men. City boys—and by extension, city girls—were spoken of with great disdain. “How many city girls—” she quickly corrected herself “—boys, has he known?”
Maisie chuckled. “Not many. But don’t be offended. I was a city girl when I came, a fact that Levi seems to have forgotten. You did well this morning.”
“Thanks to your instructions.”
“Just remember, no one is born knowing how to run a household or make a meal. They learn. Some sooner, some later. All that matters is you’re willing to learn.”
“I am.” No one had any notion of how desperately willing she was. Even her father believed it was only a matter of time until she returned to Chicago and his plans for her. She eased away from Dolly, who had relaxed somewhat now the men were gone. “I’ll clean up.”
A little while later, the kitchen was clean, the dishes neatly arranged in the cupboard, the kitten fed and taken outside under Dolly’s watchful eyes. Beatrice had swept the floor and made Maisie’s bed.
“What’s next?” she asked the older woman.
“If you’d be so kind as to bring me the sewing basket, I’ll do the mending.”
Beatrice did so.
“Thank you. I think a nice stew would be perfect for dinner.”
“Stew?” Beatrice swallowed hard.
“It’s easy. There’s canned meat and a little later you can bring in some vegetables from the garden to add to it. Meanwhile, why not take Dolly and Smokey outside for some fresh air. Feel free to—” Maisie stopped and glanced toward the window. “I hope Levi is right and whoever is leaving gates open is only interested in mischief, but do be careful.”
With Maisie’s warning ringing in her head, Beatrice and Dolly and Smokey left the house. Beatrice turned toward the barn and other outbuildings. She’d stay close to them in case someone lurked nearby. “Let’s have a look around.”
Dolly nodded.
Beatrice’s curiosity about the child blossomed. “Did you live on a
farm or a ranch with your parents?”
“A little farm,” she whispered. “Papa said we’d have a great big farm when we got where we were going.”
“Where were you going?”
“I don’t know.”
They reached the trail in front of the barn and continued along it. Beatrice had been this way before with Levi, so she felt safe. “Were you happy to leave your farm behind?”
“Mama said it was for the best and she said I could keep Smokey.”
Beatrice had to lean toward the child to catch what she said. “Smokey sure likes being with you.” The kitten never complained about being held so tightly. “Do you think she would like to walk for a while?”
Fear darkened Dolly’s eyes. “What if she runs away?”
“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” She didn’t press the point.
They reached the pigpens and Dolly giggled at the animals. “Papa had two pigs. He selled them.”
After a bit they moved on, circling the pens. From out of nowhere, Charlie appeared in front of them. “Hi,” he said, his voice extra loud to be heard above the noisy pigs.
Neither she nor Dolly had noticed the man until he stood right in front of them. Beatrice jerked in a breath at the surprise, but Dolly gasped. Smokey, alarmed by the commotion, escaped Dolly’s grasp and raced away, disappearing behind a nearby shed.
“Smokey,” she wailed.
Beatrice was glad to hear more than a whisper from the child, but would have preferred different circumstances.
Then Dolly raced after the kitten, Beatrice hot on her heels.
They skidded around the corner of the building and Dolly rushed straight into Levi’s arms, with Beatrice managing to stop before she collided with him. But only by inches. He steadied her, his hand firm on her shoulder.
“What’s going on?”
Charlie reached them. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you knew I was there.”
“Smokey ran away,” Beatrice said.
Dolly sobbed against Levi’s neck, the sound tearing at Beatrice’s heart, bringing a sting of tears to her own eyes. The tears threatened to overflow when Levi patted the little girl’s back and made comforting noises.
