Before the Larkspur Blooms

by Caroline Fyffe

  “I know what you’re thinking, Thom, but I couldn’t help it,” Win replied. “Last night in the saloon I heard a man talking about a small herd getting decimated. I knew the place he mentioned and recruited my brother’s help. It’s more than a shame how the United States government, and General Philip Sheridan in particular, is ordering the slaughter just to bring the few Indian buck resisters to their knees. It’s downright disgusting.”

  Albert nodded in agreement. “Just not right.”

  The nervous calf quivered in the corner, eyeing them fearfully. A half smile warmed Win’s face. “It was only a matter of time before some wolf came along.”

  “Well,” Thom said, smiling at Hannah, who stood by his side alight with excitement as she looked at the tiny creature. “I guess Max will have some company now besides me. He follows me around like a lovesick puppy. Bull calf or heifer?” he asked, looking back up at the Preston brothers.

  Win beamed. “Heifer. And a real nice one.”

  Thom cocked a brow. “Oh, boy. I can see where this is going.”

  Win put up a hand to stop him. “It’d only be natural if—”

  Despite her small size, the calf let out an earsplitting bellow, cutting Win off. Win rubbed his ear, and Markus laughed.

  “She’s hungry,” Albert said. “From the look of the carcasses, I’d guess it’s been about three days since her last meal.”

  Markus climbed between the big men and plopped down on the seat. “Can I ride back to town with them, Ma? I’ll help wif the calf. She’ll need a dummy bottle like we gave Max.”

  With the newborn bleating for milk and her son dwarfed between the two large men, Hannah’s face was awash with love. Her beauty almost stole Thom’s breath, and he forced himself to look away.

  “What do you think, Thom?” she asked, glancing in his direction. “Do you think the men need Markus’s help? Perhaps he could hold the gate for Win and Albert. They’re going to have their hands full with this young beauty.”

  Is she asking to help me win Markus over? Warmth filled him. “You know, I think you’re right, Hannah. If it’s OK with Albert and Win. A good hand is always welcome.”

  “You know it’s fine with us,” Albert said. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep a close watch on him.”

  Thom nodded. “Markus, can you be sure to see that Max gets some attention, too? He’s usually the main attraction around the livery and might get a little confused. Just a little pat or hug should do it.”

  Hannah’s approving gaze met his, and he suddenly felt like a father, part of a family unit. Somewhere where he belonged. His insides twisted with regret. It would be so easy to give in to his feelings for Hannah. If he was truthful with himself, he’d admit she’d owned his heart forever. And she always would.

  Markus, unmindful to what was going on, nodded excitedly. “I’ll gib him a scratch on his big furry forehead, just where he likes it.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Jake hefted the roll of barbed wire into the back of the buckboard, placing it next to several wooden fence posts, and then collected his tools. This was the only part of the Broken Horn’s vast acreage that was fenced. They wouldn’t have even had to string wire here if it weren’t for the Cotton Ranch that butted up to their land. Nell Page was a widow and a cranky one at that—nineteen and pretty, but set in her ways. Her husband had been full partner with her brother, Seth Cotton, in the good-size ranch. When he’d been killed, Nell had stepped into her husband’s boots and ran the ranch alongside her brother.

  Chase’s cattle had ruined Nell’s vegetable garden last year. When they got into it a second time that spring, Jessie had insisted Chase do something. It wasn’t right to destroy others’ property, especially something as dear as a garden. Chase understood completely, but he was hesitant. Fencing the land was progress; the Logan Meadows Herald was printing articles about it all the time. Still, once that happened and all the outfits in the territories followed suit, the range would never be the same.

  He leaned against the wagon and removed his hat, swiping his arm across his moist brow. He was tired. His muscles ached. But this was exactly what he’d needed to be to get his thinking back on track. He cussed under his breath, remembering how he’d treated Gabe in the saloon. He’d acted like the backside of a mule, for sure.

  The piercing call of a red-tailed hawk shattered the quiet. Jake drew his gaze from the rippling green grass to the billowing clouds above him. He watched it for several moments, purposely not thinking of anything or anyone. The bird stopped, or seemed to, floating on the wind. It dipped a wing, then soared westward and disappeared behind the jagged rim of the Big Horn Mountains.

  What about me? What’s my future hold? Whatever it was, surely he couldn’t change it. Couldn’t change who and what he was. Couldn’t change the ache growing in his belly. If he had an ounce of sense, he’d best put aside this anger for the lot he’d drawn, as he’d done for most of his life. Just hunker down and get on with it. He liked it here, but something inside kept whispering to him to find his own destiny. Chase and Jessie cared for him as their own; he knew that. He owed them for taking him out of the bars and teaching him about ranching, cattle, and all the rest. Still he wanted more. A name. His real name.

  He shrugged into his shirt. That was something he’d never know. He needed to accept that fact and get on with living. Leave it where he had three years ago, back in Valley Springs where his prostitute of a mother had whelped him and all but thrown him away.

  Jake turned at the sound of hoofbeats. There was no mistaking that wild mass of golden hair as Nell Page galloped toward him. She was hatless as usual, and rode a chestnut-and-white paint he’d never seen before. She reined up, swung her leg over the back of the saddle, and hopped down.

  Jake hastily buttoned up his shirt. “Morning, Nell,” he said in greeting. She wore pants better than anyone he’d ever seen.

  “Jake.” As usual, her tone was all business as she fastened her reins to one of the posts he’d just replaced. The gelding snorted, then pawed the ground. Did she ever smile? If so, he’d never seen it in the years he’d lived in Logan Meadows.

  The animal, tethered on the opposite side of the fence, had good straight legs and nice conformation. He was well groomed, and his coat glistened in the sun. He turned and pulled on the reins, looking back the way they’d come. “I like your new horse,” Jake said. “Had him long?”

  She rubbed her hip. “Long enough to get thrown twice.” She lifted her shoulder as if it was of no consequence at all. “Has a temper. Doesn’t like me telling him what to do. He’ll be a real prize when he’s full broke.”

  Jake nodded, believing every word she said. One thing about Nell Page, she was smart. Just about smarter than anyone he knew. Behind that pretty face and lithe, tomboyish figure was an intellect not to be trifled with. Most everyone in Logan Meadows knew it, too.

  Nell bent and slipped through the wire before he knew what she was up to. “Glad to see you’ve fixed the fence,” she said. “I’ve been keeping an eye on it for over two weeks.”

  Jake’s face warmed even more than it already was from missing the gentlemanly opportunity to help her. “We were in the middle of branding. This is the first time I’ve had a chance.”

  She gave a disbelieving look. “You’re the only hand at the Broken Horn?”

  Damn it. She knew he wasn’t. Why did she always insist on picking a fight?

  “We had a good number of cows drop several weeks late or we would’ve been finished on time and I could’ve fixed it sooner. Chase don’t like to traumatize the babies too soon, you know.” He smiled warmly, causing her eyes to narrow. “How’d your calving go this year? Get anything unusual?”

  She walked around the wagon slowly, running her hand just above the top of the sideboard, as if thinking of her response. Or trying to make me nervous, Jake thought.

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. Yep, she sure knows how to make a man squirm.

  “Actually
, Jake, we did,” she finally said. “Five of our most well-bred cows birthed twins. We’ve never had more than one set. Seth was pleased.”

  Jake tipped up his hat, amazed. Not at what she’d just said about five sets of twins, although that was quite astounding. But more, the sudden change in her demeanor was shocking. Her eyes were soft and inviting, her mouth almost tipped up in a smile. She’d stopped and wrapped her arms around herself as she looked off over the prairie.

  Why, it must be because she was thinking about those babies being born. There was absolutely nothing cuter than a tiny white-faced bovine with a pink, slippery nose. When they first stood up, their wobbly legs looked like noodles as they stumbled around, wagging their tails and mooing for their mama. The sight could melt the most frozen, jaded heart. Perhaps Nell had just gone through spring thaw.

  “Five sets of twins?” he repeated, wanting to stay on the promising subject. “That’s amazing. Chase just might want to rent out your bull—for a fee, that is. Those are better-than-average odds. It can’t hurt to infuse a bloodline like that, at least into a few of his stock.”

  She stiffened. Dropped her arms. “We don’t let out our bulls, either one of ’em. Can’t chance ’em getting hurt.”

  He shrugged. “Well, it was just a thought.”

  Right then a big cloud drifted in front of the sun, causing a shadow to fall across the prairie. A sudden gust of wind caught Jake’s tipped hat and it flew off, tumbling across the grass right in front of Nell’s gelding. As if the hat were some big scary monster, the paint pulled back until his reins gave way, spun a half circle, and galloped off. He disappeared across the range before either of them could say a word.

  Jake stood there with his mouth open, while Nell turned and planted her hands on her hips. “Now look what you’ve gone and done! Didn’t you feel your hat lifting?”

  “No. Wind caught me by surprise.” He went to retrieve it where it had landed by a post some fifteen feet away. He couldn’t help chuckling to himself. She was in a pickle, all right. Her ranch was a good hour’s walk from here. A raindrop splashed on his forehead at the exact moment he heard a colorful expression behind him.

  He grabbed his hat and screwed it down tight, then jogged to the bed of the buckboard and pulled out a tarp from behind the seat. A light rain wet his shoulders and caused his thin cotton shirt to stick to his body. He kept his eyes trained on Nell’s face when he gestured to the wagon seat.

  She just stared at him for several seconds, her hair clinging to her face. “Why—” She shook her head angrily and climbed up on the buckboard seat. She took the tarp he held out.

  Jake ran around to the other side of the wagon and climbed aboard, holding the tarp over their heads. That done, he picked up the reins in one hand and popped them over the mare’s back, turning the wagon back toward the ranch. But he pulled up short as two riders crested the hill.

  Jake relaxed a bit when he recognized Rome. The other fellow he didn’t know. Just to be safe, Jake leaned down and pulled out his rifle from under the wooden seat and laid it across his lap.

  “Jake,” Littleton drawled as he came closer. He looked down his long, bowed nose. “Mending fences?”

  Jake didn’t like the look of the other rider. He had shifty eyes, going everywhere they shouldn’t. His horse was in poor condition, too. That was a sure way to tell which side of the fence a man walked.

  “That’s right,” Jake said, feeling a bit protective over Nell. “What brings you out this way? In case you didn’t know it, this is Broken Horn land. You take a wrong turn somewhere?”

  “No need to take offense. Just scouting. I lost cattle to the rustlers myself.”

  “Yes, I can see how you’d want to be out riding. It’s such lovely weather and all,” Nell said, sticking out her hand and catching a palmful of rain. Jake was surprised she’d stayed quiet this long.

  Rome laughed and nodded. Raindrops spotted his brown felt hat. “Actually, it was, ma’am, until the cloud let loose. It’ll stop in a moment. We best get going.” They spurred their horses forward and galloped off toward town.

  “Well, what do you think that was all about?” she asked, watching them go.

  “Not sure.” The buckboard rolled along slowly, bouncing over the occasional rock and dipping into an even rarer gopher hole. Jake was too distracted to appreciate the fact he had a beautiful woman, even if she was encased in denim and crankier than all get out, all to himself on the wagon seat. “Felt to me like they were checking things out more than scouting, if you know what I mean.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Hannah was worried sick. For the fourth day in a row, she’d had so few customers she’d be forced to dip into her savings to pay Susanna her wages at the end of the week—again. That left absolutely nothing to pay her household expenses. Much more of this and she’d have to close her doors.

  That thought made her stomach squeeze. The Silky Hen had been in Caleb’s family a long time. Even though it had never been her dream to own a restaurant, she’d taken pride in inheriting it so she could pass it on to Markus. It hurt to think she would be the one to bring it to its demise.

  Her one ace and blessing was the Wells Fargo stage. And it was overdue by ten minutes. Reaching in the oven, she carefully withdrew three loaves of bread, setting them on a wire cooling rack by the window. The room filled with a crispy wheat aroma. As soon as lunch was over, she’d deliver them to Maude at the store. She leaned against the drainboard with a sigh and pushed her hair off her forehead using the back of her wrist. As usual, her eyes strayed to the livery down the street. He’s made his choice. It doesn’t include me.

  Susanna came breezing in, two dirty dishes and a cup and saucer in her hands. She placed them in the sink with a splash. “Pump sure works well.”

  “I guess.”

  Susanna arched a brow. “What do you mean, you guess? Your handsome Irish champion did a fine job, best ever. You said so yourself just two days ago.”

  “Win could have done the same.” She sighed. “And Thomas Donovan is not mine.”

  “Hannah, what’s got you so down?” Susanna’s eyes searched Hannah’s face.

  She knew if she didn’t change the topic of discussion before long, her friend would wheedle everything out of her. “Nothing. The stage is late.”

  Susanna glanced at the clock. “Not too. It’ll be pulling in soon. And I’m praying it’s filled with hungry passengers.”

  “Me, too. We have a passel of roast beef to get rid of.” She opened the oven and peeked inside. “It’s not bad covered in gravy.”

  Susanna gave her a sideward glance. Her brows pulled together in question. “You sure nothing’s upset you? I’ve never found you in here just looking out the window before. Are you warm?” She placed her palm on Hannah’s forehead. “Coming down with something, maybe?”

  I should tell her—her job is at stake. I should, but I can’t. Not yet. Hannah forced herself to laugh.

  One day last year, Hannah’s cook had run out, leaving her holding the bag with a full dining room. As if sent from God, Susanna had stepped through her door, looked around at the frustrated customers, and asked what she could do to help. The two women had been together ever since. Susanna knew a kitchen better than most men knew a saloon. A blessing, to be sure. “No. Just wishing I could be at Shady Creek fishing with Markus. That boy has been excited all week.”

  “He with Dwight?” Susanna asked in surprise, as she retied the bow of her apron. She took the scrub brush and began washing the dishes.

  “Yes. Mother gave him permission. I packed them a picnic lunch with our leftover chicken.”

  At the sound of hooves, harness, and a shout of “Logan Meadows!” Hannah gave Susanna a smile of relief. “Here’s the stage. At last.”

  Susanna drew her hands from the water and quickly dried them as Hannah went out to greet and seat. She stopped in her tracks, causing Susanna to bump into her backside. Only Ralph, the stagecoach driver, and one old man wobble
d through the door. Heat pressed at the back of Hannah’s eyes. It was apparent this was the extent of her lunch rush.

  Ralph slapped his dusty hat against his leather-clad leg, sending up a plume of dust. At Susanna’s cocked eyebrow and cleared throat, he blushed.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Hoskins, Susanna,” he said sheepishly, looking back and forth between the two women. “I guess that best be done outside next time.” He hung the hat on a peg.

  Two customers, two tables.

  “Er, what was that?” the elderly passenger shouted, looking around. “Did you say something?” He dug through a carpetbag, drew out an ear horn, and held it to his head.

  “That’s all right, Ralph,” Hannah said, happy to have at least the two men. “We’re delighted you’re here. Take any seat you’d like,” she said more loudly.

  “Drat,” Susanna whispered into Hannah’s ear. “Looks like another slow day. If you’d rather deliver the bread to Maude now instead of later, I can handle this easily on my own.”

  “You sure?”

  “Are you serious? If I can’t cook and serve two meals on my own, I better start looking for another job. Oh, let’s not forget Albert will be in shortly. That’ll make three.”

  Susanna did not know it yet, but she might be looking for other employment soon anyway. Hannah hated the thought and vowed not to let that happen. Susanna’d never said anything about family or the details of her past life, but Hannah got the feeling that her friend wanted to keep the past where it was. “Fine. It won’t take me but a minute to run the bread next door.”

  Albert was coming in just as she stepped through the door to leave. “Going so soon?” he asked with a smile.

  She shrugged. “I surely won’t be missed,” she whispered behind her hand.

  “That slow?”

  “A turtle could walk to Ft. Kearny and back and not lose his seat. I swear…”