"Hedges knows him, Morey," she repeated, looking straight at him.
"Knows he ain't a bad one?"
"Yes."
"He told you so?"
"Yes."
"Okay then, but still makes me wonder how he came by those scars."
"It's his own business."
"Iffen I'd seen those scars before I seen him with that babe, I'd wonder 'bout him being in the wrong of it." She gave him an annoyed look. "You're sweet on him. Wouldn't want to see you fall for a bad one."
"You talk loco," she said, unable to look at him any longer.
"Seems to figure he ain't good enough to be in the same room with you. I figure it's ‘cause he's a working man. Reckon I can—"
"Morey, don't you do nothing. You stay out of my life and leave it be."
"Want to see you happy, girl."
"I told you how to do that, and you refused," she snapped.
"I won't take your ranch, Sammy, and any man that wouldn't take you 'cause of it is too damned proudful to have."
"Leave it be," she repeated in warning.
"Don't figure him to be that unreasonable."
"Just stay out of my life. You're always trying to run it for me, you and Sally, and look at the mess you've made of me."
* * *
Gabe looked up at the sound of Sammy's angry voice coming from the kitchen. He couldn't hear the words, but after the way he'd acted and the mess he'd brought to her house, he figured he was the cause of it.
"Seems I always put my foot in crossways with her," he commented to Sally.
"Uh-huh," she agreed, stroking Danny's damp hair.
"Is he gonna be okay?"
"I don't know what it is yet, Gabe, but you know I'll do everything I can to help him."
* * *
Gabe couldn't relax, not when Sally bullied him into sitting at the table to eat with them or when they moved to the front room for coffee and to continue the vigil. It wasn't just because Sammy owned such a ranch that he couldn't feel easy with her, and he sure couldn't explain the real reason to Morey.
After the meal he figured the last thing he would do would be to fall asleep, but he did, sitting in the chair, holding Danny. He woke up because someone was whispering close to him, and he opened his eyes to find Sammy's face a few feet from his. Not too sure he wasn't dreaming, the way she was smiling at him, he pushed himself upright.
"I hope you've had the measles, Mr. Taylor," Sammy said.
"Huh?" he asked in a fog of sleep and confusion.
"Danny has the measles," she explained, tipping her head to look again at Danny's face.
Gabe had to twist his own head at an uncomfortable angle to see the face lying on his chest. What he saw was a rash, covering the boy's face, and by moving the blanket, he could see it covered his arms, legs, and belly. "That goes away, don't it?" Gabe asked.
Sammy laughed, a quick, delightful sound, nodding her head. Gabe grinned back at her, seeing the relief he felt reflected in her face.
"All we have to do now is keep him quiet in a dark room so's he don't go blind," she told him.
Her words scared Gabe. How would he cover the windows to keep the sun out? "Guess I can hang a blanket up," he said, shifting Danny so he could get up and get back home before the sun rose.
"Guess it's already done," Sally said. "You'll have to keep him in bed with you, but—"
"Cain't he sleep in his crib? I don't think he ought to be on the floor."
Sally and Sammy looked at each other then back at him. Then Sally realized he meant to take Danny home. "You bull-headed, mule-headed—"
"What'd I do?" Gabe asked in astonishment.
"You ain't taking that baby out of this house till the very last spot is gone. You want to blind him or make him catch a chill?"
"No, but—"
"Certainly not," she said, grabbing him by the elbow. "You brought him here for me to care for, now just do what I say." She pulled him off, Gabe guessed to a bedroom in the house. He looked back at Sammy to see how she was taking it, saw a look of approval and gave up.
* * *
The bed was comfortable, easy to sleep in. He was there for three nights, careful to do everything Sally told him, so there'd be no chance of making his stay any longer. It wasn't because they weren't the nicest people he'd ever met. They were, but the more he was around Sammy, the less likely it was that he could keep from showing how he was starting to think of her. Sometimes he thought maybe she was feeling the same, like the time she told him it was one of her father's shirts he was wearing, and he filled it well. He pretended he thought she meant the fit, afraid maybe he was wrong about her meaning he was as good a man as her father.
When he put his own clothes back on, the shirt had been ironed and the button he remembered tearing off was back on it. Sally said she didn't do it when he thanked her, which meant Sammy'd done it, like maybe she liked doing for him. Then he'd remember what Morey had told him how her pa taught her to never look down on no man and how she was just naturally considerate and told himself he was seeing more into it than he should.
Sammy stayed gone most all day every day he was there, but anytime she came around him after she came in for the evening, he got an all-choked up feeling and tongue tied. If it weren't for talking about Danny, he wouldn't be able to say anything at all to her. Maybe they all thought it was all right for him to talk to her, but they sure wouldn't think it was right if they knew he was thinking of her in a whole lot different way than friend and neighbor.
When he and Danny got ready to leave she was standing on the porch. Sally was in the wagon with Danny, and he was wishing he had Danny in his arms or a hat in his hands since he didn't know what to do with them while he thanked her again.
"Anything I can ever do to repay you, you just let me know," he said lamely.
"I've yet to repay you, Mr. Taylor. Good-bye."
She disappeared into the house before he could ask her what she meant, leaving him with a feeling like he'd forgot to wipe his mouth and had egg on it from breakfast. It was the kind of thing that works on a man's imagination, so he asked Sally what she'd meant.
"Saving the place for her, I reckon," Sally answered.
"Smith set the bargain, not me."
"You could have kept it from her, and that place means a whole lot more than you realize."
"Hardly be missed with all she's got."
"Not that piece. Ain't you never wondered why the house is so nice, why it had a garden already planted, or why it has a well and a pump in the house?"
"Always figured it was too much for what it was built for," he admitted.
"Well, you seen where she is now."
"You mean she's going to move there?" he asked with a start.
"Got a sentimental streak, that girl does," she said with a nod. "When Big Sam came to this valley that was where he built his first house. Not too much different than the one there now, only it never had no pump in the inside, just the well."
"Then why wouldn't she take it?" he asked angrily.
"Couldn't while Big Sam was alive. He burnt the first house down not to be reminded of his wife after she died, and he wouldn't see another built."
"Why ? Why build so ugly a place as he did after that?"
"The thing in this world that mattered the most to him was his wife. When she died he didn't want nothing to remind him of where they'd lived, and he set out to make sure Sammy would never be weak like her mother was."
"Sounds like it was a hard life for her."
"Wasn't till she learned she was different than most girls. Real defiant about it at first, determined to be the best rider, shooter, and rough-neck around, but it was tearing her up inside when she got older. Me and Morey could see that."
"Sally, maybe you oughtn't tell me this, it being private like."
"Ain't private, those in town will get around to telling it to you soon enough. Mrs. Jones will be the first, the first time the opportunity comes up," she went
on. "It was her that made the first dress for Little Sam, and Sammy ripped it off, screaming she'd never wear one. You can bet Mrs. Jones talked that up good 'bout it being unnatural."
"Someone ought to sew her mouth shut."
"Well, for all that, she's the one that helped the most with saying things that Little Sam did that weren't right for a lady were excusable on account of Little Sam didn't know any better."
"Then they do think she's a lady," he said, thinking he'd won at least one argument with Sammy.
"No, not in the manner you mean. Folks don't think she's bad, but they don't really think she's what you'd call a lady, either."
"She is, too."
"Not refined, Gabe. Sammy's thought of as respectable, but sometimes crude."
"That don't make sense," he said sullenly, not liking the thought of anyone calling Sammy crude.
"You couldn't expect no different the way she was raised. She wore britches till she was twelve, and it took us three years to get her to wear those riding skirts regularly. You're looking at it wrong. People love her, and just about anything off-color she does is forgiven or ignored 'cause she's Little Sam."
"Dumb thing to call a woman like her," Gabe said. Didn't matter what they called her as far as he was concerned. She was a beautiful woman.
"Samantha is her given name. Only one that ever uses it is Hedges. Me and Morey got too used to calling her Sammy to remember the other."
"Sally, what has this to do with why she feels grateful to me?" he asked suspiciously.
"I told you, it's 'cause you saved the place for her. Just think of what that place she lives in looks like."
Gabe thought of it and looked back at her blankly. It wasn't a pretty place, he had thought that the first time he saw it, but he had the idea that wasn't what Sally wanted him to see.
"It's a man's place. Did you notice any womanly things in it?" she asked impatiently.
"Just in the kitchen."
"Pots and pans ain't what I meant. There ain't a frilly whatnot or knick-knack in the place. No rugs on the floors, no lacy curtains on the walls. The furniture is big and ugly. There just ain't any female things there. Big Sam wouldn't allow it."
"So she built her a house to put them in?" he asked incredulously.
"They'd look wrong in Big Sam's house. It's a house for a man, and it'll do just fine for Morey when she turns it over to him. She wants a house for a woman, where she can be a woman without feeling Big Sam is looking over her shoulder telling her what foolishness it is."
"She's a woman wherever she is and a lady. What you're saying don't make sense," he shot back, impatient with what he considered nonsense.
"Men can sure be thickheaded," she said in resignation. Then she added, "You got anything against her fixing her place up now, instead of waiting till you move out?"
"If it's so important to her, I'll move out now."
"And go where?" she snorted.
"May as well be looking. It ain't going to be that long before those boys of hers get back with her cattle money."
"I didn't mean to go and make you feel like you was being pushed out. Just that she's got all them things she ordered and made, and it seems a shame to leave them setting in boxes when they could be in use."
"I won't use it," he exclaimed. "No, now you just listen. She can bring it on over if she wants, but I ain't going to use any of it. What if me or Danny broke something?" Seeing her face tense up in anger, he explained. "It's her house. She can do what she wants with it, but I won't take no chances on spoiling anything."
He'd live with it, no matter how it made him feel. He had a pretty good idea how that would be, too, wishing he was the one going to be living there with her.
* * *
Sally was angry at his stubbornness, but she was so pleased with the success of the first part of her plan that she let it slide. Nothing would make a man realize what a good wife a woman would make than seeing how she set up a house, nothing that is unless it was seeing the way a woman could care for a young’un. Sammy had already proven herself on that one, and Gabe had revealing more than he realized to Sally's quick ears, but then, that was the kind of thing Sally listened for. It was true that she told him more than she would anyone else, but the real reason she was telling him was a decision she and Morey had already come to. Setting the house up would be easy, and Sally was working on the next angle.
She thought maybe she'd go to town. Hedges was the one to think of angles. Hadn't he got Gabe to stay there when everyone knew he'd planned to leave right away?
Chapter Eight
Danny had gotten spoiled, having Gabe there to hold him whenever he whined that one little word. The first day when Gabe left to get back to cutting wood, Danny threw a tantrum. Sally knew it was a good sign, even if it grated on her nerves. She wanted to go to town herself, but because of Danny's behavior, she settled for hailing the first rider she saw and had him take a message to Hedges. Hedges was there late that afternoon before Gabe came in for dinner. An alliance was formed, and the next step of their attack was planned. Hedges took over at the dinner table.
Gabe could hardly hear Hedges for Danny's wailing. "Hold," he cried, stretching his arms out to Gabe from his highchair.
"You finish eating first," Gabe said, sitting down at the table.
"Hold," Danny squalled, shoving his food off the tray onto the floor.
"What's got into you?" Gabe demanded in astonishment.
"You showed him all the love he needs to know. Now it's time to show him discipline," Sally said.
"You mean spank him?" he said, horrified at the idea of striking Danny.
"If he dumps this on the floor, I do," she said, sitting a second bowl on the highchair tray.
Danny reached out to shove it off, and Gabe jumped to hold his arm. "No," he said firmly. "You eat that, or I won't hold you at all tonight."
"Hold," Danny wailed again.
"You eat first."
Danny subsided, his lower lip out and tears welling in his eyes.
"Don't you fall for that," Sally warned. "When you gonna build me that fencing I asked for?"
"Eat your food first," Gabe said, managing to keep his voice from showing the uncertainty he felt. Danny had been sick, and like as not he still didn't feel too good. Maybe Sally was being too hard on him, and the idea of the fence cage Sally wanted to keep Danny in didn't set too well with him. "I'll start on it as soon as Hedges brings me some nails and a hammer," he told Sally.
Danny sobbed, tears rolling down his little cheeks. "Hold," he pleaded again.
"Eat first," Gabe said gruffly, then turned his back on him. He'd give it a few minutes, and if Danny didn't stop crying, he'd take him no matter what Sally said.
Danny sobbed, making horrible sounds as if his grief was choking him. It made Gabe's own food taste like sawdust.
"Young’uns is like women," Hedges observed. "They know nothing will make a man's knees turn to water like them tears."
"He's been sick," Gabe told him.
"Don't look it. 'Bout the healthiest baby I've ever seen."
"You better quit picking at your food, or he'll be done before you are," Sally told Gabe and nudged him on the arm.
Gabe looked up then turned back quickly to keep Danny from seeing his grin. The funny choking sounds Danny was making were coming from trying to shove all the food in his mouth at one time, making Gabe feel like he'd just conquered the rankest bronc around. "Guess we need to teach him some manners," he told Hedges.
"You do it. I'm going home," Sally said. "You'll have to give him a bath before you put him to bed with all that mess on him."
"Grouchy old woman," Hedges said as she walked out.
"Just sounds that way. I sure don't know what I'd do without her," Gabe said, deciding Danny had choked himself enough in an effort to obey.
He went to the counter for a rag to wash Danny, stopping when Hedges asked, "Give much thought to how you will?"
"Yeah, and I ain't com
e up with any answers I really like. Just have to hope I find someone like her wherever we end up."
"You could stay here, Sammy'd put you on if you asked, and—"
"No," he answered sharply.
The answer was too quick for argument. Hedges went on to another suggestion. "Then keep the place."
"I promised it to her."
"She wouldn't hold you to it."
"I don't want it," he said, going on to wash Danny's arms and face. It was hard to do with Danny pulling his hand away to reach for the rag.
"Don't lie to me, Gabe Taylor. You're a cattleman, and there ain't one alive that wouldn't give his right arm for this place."
"It's hers."
"Then marry her."
Gabe straightened up with a jerk and stared at him.
"That way you'd both have it," Hedges added blandly.
"You talk like you been mule-kicked," Gabe said, throwing the rag at the sink. "Where would I get off asking a woman like her to marry me?"
"What's wrong with her?"
"Ain't nothing wrong with her," Gabe retorted.
"Well then, why not? You're both single."
"'Cause I'm a nothing cowhand, and she's got acres."
"You got this place, and she wants it."
"And she'll get it, but not by marrying me. What would folks say?"
"Maybe that she made a good choice."
"Bull. They'd say I married her for her ranch, and I won't shame her like that."
"You saying that's the only reason a man would ask her?"
"No," he said, looking away quickly. He took great care and interest in freeing Danny from his chair, much more than was necessary and retorted, "Could be I wouldn't have no right to even think of it."
"She don't really own them acres you was talking about, not till she buys up them claims. You do own yours."
"They're not mine."
"Paper that deed's written on says different."
"Hedges," Gabe warned quietly.
"Don't go getting a head of steam up. I'm just saying that what you own outright means more to her than any of them other pieces. Could be she'd see it as equal."
Little Sam's Angel Page 11
