by Nan O'Berry
Jonas grew wide-eyed. “Sure. Sure, Stone. We got something to do. Looks like you have too.”
The other men snickered.
He turned to take a step toward them.
Charity’s hand upon his arm gave him pause. “Don’t be mad at them. I’m sure it’s unusual for a woman to come to the stables.”
“They’ve seen Anna out here. You’d think they hadn’t seen a woman before.”
Charity took a deep breath. “Probably aren’t used to ladies of my caliber to be seen in the daylight.”
Her remark caused Stone to jerk his head back toward her. “You shouldn’t talk like that.”
A tired smile flashed across her lips. “I’m used to this,” Charity began. “Maybe I’ve made a mistake.”
She turned as if making plans to leave.
Stone’s hand against her shoulder stopped her. “Don’t go. I want you to stay.” To his relief, she nodded.
“I came by to tell you I could come on Saturday.” She gazed back at the doorway where the men disappeared. “That is, if you still want me to come.”
“I do. I do.” Stone swore. He gazed back at the doorway. “I’ll talk to the guys. We’ve been having some fun is all. Teasing, you know.”
“Oh.” Her gaze shifted down at her feet. “I-I should be going.”She took a step away.
Stone inched forward. “Wait. I’ll walk you back.”
“I’d like that.”
Stone turned to see Brett standing in the open passage. “Be right back.”
Brett nodded.
Stone turned to Charity and tucked her hand beneath his arm. “Shall we?”
They walked toward the Crystal Dawn.
“I am looking forward to the party. You are sure Mrs. Hawkins won’t mind?” Charity asked.
“No. She will be happy to see you. She said the party will start around four o’clock. I’ll come by then and walk you down.”
Charity turned toward him and her smile broadened. “I’d like that very much.”
“She and Anna are gonna be baking lots of good things. There will be some games and a bit of dancing. Mr. Hawkins plays a good fiddle and some of the other men have talent for guitars and mouth harps.” Stone paused and helped her up the stairs of the boardwalk.
“Do you play?” She wanted to know.
He shook his head. “No ma’am. My mother tried teaching me once, but I have no ear for music.”
She tilted her head and gazed at him. “What are your special talents, Stone?”
Their footsteps drew to a stop.
Stone grew somber. “Some might say it’s my gun. Others might say I’m mighty good with my fists. But me, I think my best talent is being able to look into someone’s heart.”
Charity’s eyes widened. “And have you looked into mine?”
Stone let a slow smile spread across his face as he gazed deep into her eyes. “Yes.”
“And what did you see?” she whispered.
Stone paused. His hands found her arms and he turned her toward him. Staring down into the emerald green his gaze searched hers. His heart pounded in his ears, he spoke. “I see a woman in need of a good man. A woman who wants to settle down and spend the rest of her life in the arms of her only love.” Was it his imagination or did the green of her eyes just deepen?
“Anything else?”
He struggled to swallow. “Yeah…” His voice sounded rough to his ears. “One thing more.” His hands slid down her arms and with a tug, he pulled her out of the prying eyes of the town to the side of the building. “You have the look of someone that needs to be kissed, more than once a day, and told that she is beautiful at least ten times more.” His head lowered.
At first touch, he brushed across the length of her lips and lifted his head ever so slightly. Her eyes were closed. Her face turned up towards his and her expression serene. With a possessing growl, Stone found her lips once more. This time not so gentle, his mouth crushed against hers as if somehow placing his mark upon her lips that no man could wash away. His lungs ached for air. Yet, he hated to relinquish his touch. When he found himself nearly faint, he lifted his head and slowly opened his eyes.
Her hands grasped the lapels of his jacket for stability. Her lips looked puffed from his attention. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. Inch by inch, her dark lashes lifted from her cheek and the deep green of her eyes had no other focus but his.
“I’ll pick you up at four on Saturday, Charity.”
She didn’t speak. Instead, she merely nodded.
He smiled and turned toward the street once more placing her hand beneath his protection. To his satisfaction, her eyes never left his as they moved to the boardwalk. Neither of them spoke as their slow steps brought them to the Crystal Dawn.
“I will leave you here,” Stone said as they reached the doorway.
“See you on Saturday,” Charity replied as he let her go.
“Saturday.” He confirmed and waited until she moved inside.
He walked back to the stables as if in a daze. He never felt this way before, and he knew it was a right feeling too.
Mr. Hawkins and the other men were waiting for him when he returned to the barn.
“Thought you got lost,” Brett teased.
“Nope.” Stone took his place in the circle of men and waited for Levi to begin.
“One ride before the holidays,” Levi said. “I know it’s asking a lot, but the mail must get through.” He held up his right hand.
Stone focused on the pieces of broom straw he held.
“The short man get’s the ride. Without trouble, it will put you back here late Saturday evening.”Holding out his hand to the first rider, he drew a straw and hid it behind a closed fist.
One by one, each of the men followed.
Being at the end of the line, Stone and Brett eyed each other. They both reached for the straws. Stone felt the shaft of the dried wheat stalk burrow deep into his fist.
“Gentlemen, reveal your straws,” Levi ordered. “We’ll start with Jonas.”
The young rider opened his fist to reveal a long straw. Giving an audible sigh of relief, he looked to the man standing beside him. One by one, each of the pony express riders revealed what was hidden in their hands. Each straw was long enough to disqualify them.
“Well now, it seems that it comes down to Stone and Brett,” Levi concluded.
All eyes turned toward the last two riders.
“You can do it together,” Levi suggested. “On the count of three, one….two….”
The next word went unspoken as shouts erupted from the street drawing their attention.
Levi’s brows knotted together. “Excuse me.”
The men watched as he stepped around Brett to walk toward the open barn door. As the riders followed, they heard the shouts of excitement and anger growing louder. Stepping out into the open behind their boss, the men watched as one of Pierson’s wagons rolled in, the driver slumped to one side.
“Someone go get the blacksmith. Whitney’s been hurt.”
“Hurt, he’s got an arrow poking out of his shoulder!”
The cry moved the riders. Led by Levi, they hurried over to help as the driver was lifted as gently as possible from the freight wagon.
“What’s going on?” Pierson’s voice rose above the din.
“Whitney’s been shot.”
Pierson hurried over and gazed at his driver’s ashen face. “Someone send for the blacksmith?”
Heads nodded.
Pierson glanced to Levi. “Your wife?”
“I’ll send for her.” Levi glanced to his left. “Stone?”
“On my way.” He turned to see Brett eyeing him. Opening his palm, he handed the straw to Levi. “I guess I’m riding.”
Brett snorted. “Think again.” He opened his hand and only a tiny bit of the shaft lay against his palm.
“Tell Olivia to bring her medicine kit,” Levi instructed as he took the straws. “Mr. Pierson, I wi
ll have my wife over to your office in a few minutes.”
“Good. I’ll get some water to boil.”
Levi turned to his men, “Let’s break it up.”
There was a grumble.
Levi held up his hand. “When there is news, I will be the first to tell you. Right now, we have things to do. Brett, make sure your equipment is ready for the ride. Boys, back to work.”
Chapter 7
Levi Hawkins stood in the office of Pierson Stage Company and waited. His wife had long been ushered in by Pierson and the blacksmith.
“More coffee?”
His attention turned to one of Pierson’s employee’s.
“Thank you, but this is just fine, Mr. Hopkins.”
Zeke placed the pot back on the stove and took a seat beneath the windows. Pushing the chair back with his feet, he let it totter on its back two legs. “Your boys ride the trail between here and Silver City in the Nevada territory. You hear of any of the hostiles up in arms?”
Levi stared down at the liquid in his cup before answering, “No more than Mr. Pierson. My job is to get the mail through. It’s the army’s job to worry about the Indians.”
“Humph.” Zeke grunted. “Where I come from, the only good injun is a dead one.”
Levi walked over to the small table beside the stove and put his cup down. “I suppose they feel the same about us.”
Before Zeke could reply, the door to the freight office opened. Zeke’s chair came to a snap against the floor. “Captain Merrick.”
Levi turned as Anselm Merrick entered.
He gave a nod toward Hopkins and moved to where Levi stood.
“Afternoon, Captain.”
“Levi.” Anselm removed his gloves and stuck them in his belt. “This is getting to be a regular habit, meeting when there’s trouble.”
Levi raised one brow but didn’t contradict his friend’s statement. “Can we get you some coffee?”
“Please.”
Zeke got up and poured the captain a cup. “Here you go, sir.”
Anselm took the cup Zeke offered. “Thank you.”He took a sip and looked over at Zeke. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Zeke gave a shrug of his shoulders. “Heard the wagon rolling in and came out to find Whitney slumped over the box. Me and some of the boys ran out and stopped the horses. Whitney was pretty much out of it. Had an arrow stuck in his shoulder.”
“You brought him in here?”
Zeke nodded. “Yes sir. We brung him in and Mr. Pierson sent for Mrs. Hawkins and the blacksmith, then sent a rider for you.” He jerked a finger toward the closed door. “They’re in there with him now.”
Anselm’s gaze shifted toward the door. “Thank you.”
Zeke glanced at the doorway. “You want me to let Mr. Pierson know you’re here?”
“They might be busy,” Anselm replied. “I can wait.”
Zeke sighed. “Suit yourself.” He moved back to the chair and sat down.
Anselm gazed at the liquid in his cup. In a hushed whisper he asked, “Did you see the arrow?”
“I couldn’t make out much detail,” Levi explained. “I’m sure when Olivia and Samuel get it out; they’ll bring it for us to see.”
Anselm tilted the cup and watched the liquid swirl. “Seems like whenever there is trouble, Pierson is in the thick of it.”
Levi took a deep breath. He had been contemplating the same thought.
The door opened and all looked up.
Reuben Pierson emerged holding a long arrow with white and red feathers along the end. “Here.” He snapped and tossed it down onto the table. “We must do something about this. I can’t have Indians taking pot shots at my drivers.”
Anselm put down his mug and picked up the arrow. “No one likes to be shot at, Mr. Pierson. However, we haven’t had any trouble with the Indians in a very long time. Do you think your driver did something to provoke them?”
“My driver,” Pierson snapped. “Why is it, when something goes wrong around here, you and Hawkins here, think my men are at the bottom of it?”
Anselm gaze shifted slowly toward the stage and freight owner.
Pierson had the good sense to back down.
Anselm’s eyes narrowed at him. “We’ll find out who is responsible for this Pierson and bring them to justice.”
The freight owner didn’t speak. Instead, he made a jerking motion of pulling at the edges of his vest. “I apologize for sounding argumentative.” He glanced back at the doorway. “I’m a man short right now.”
“Understood.” Anselm held up the arrow. “May I keep this?”
“I don’t care. I’ve no use for it.”
Anselm gave a nod and handed it over to Levi to hold. “Your riders have reported nothing?”
Levi pressed his lips together and wondered if he should speak of the letter carried to the fort. His gaze flickered to the stage manager’s brooding face. No, perhaps this was not the best time. “No. We have one more run this week. However, that should take my riders through the disputed territory.”
Pierson’s scowl deepened.
Levi said no more. He knew that Anselm waited on his collective thought; however letting his statement hang with the eminent foreboding would give the captain the urge to seek his opinion later. He lifted his cup and watched Pierson avoid his gaze.
Providence provided a much needed diversion when the door to the other room opened and Olivia’s weary image emerged. Brushing back a loose strand of hair from her cheek, she moved to her husband’s side. “Any coffee left in that cup?”
He offered her a warm smile. “A sip,” he replied handing it over.
With a deep breath, she lifted the mug to her face and took a sip.
Though her hair showed a tinge of grey at her temple, Levi thought she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever known.
“Thank you.”
“How is the driver?” Anselm inquired once she was through with the coffee.
An audible sigh escaped her lips. “Barring any infection, he will survive.” She turned her head to encompass Pierson in her gaze. “You have not asked about your employee? I should think yours would have been the first question.”
Pierson took on her gaze.
When he didn’t speak, she continued, “Mr. Whitney will need to be watched carefully for the next few days. If he should have any spike in fever or an onset of delirium, you must send for a doctor.”
Pierson took a step forward. “A doctor? Woman, do you know how far a doctor is from this town? Or, the cost for that matter?”
“The closest doctor is over at Fort Valor.” She lifted her chin. “One would have thought you might have sent need for the major at once, since your wagons were attacked.”
“This is not civilization, Mrs. Hawkins,” Pierson snapped. “This is the frontier. We take care of our own.”
“Then perhaps it should be made into one,” Olivia challenged him. “This is a growing town, Mr. Pierson. Business is picking up and families are moving in. There is change in the air.”
“Change?” Pierson scoffed. “We have more cattle than humans. If you want civilization, you and your kind should have stayed back east.”
Olivia Hawkins found her courage and drew herself to her full height. “What a callous little man you are. You employ these men just as my husband does and yet you seem ill prepared nor even concerned about their wellbeing.” Her tone turned to sarcasm. “How chivalrous of you, I suppose the same would be made if this was a stage run and your passengers had been slaughtered.”
Pierson shifted his glare to Levi. “Control you wife, Hawkins. I will not be talked to in this manner.”
“My wife has a valid point, Pierson,” Levi remarked. “I see you have sent for Merrick, but have you sent a report to the man in charge? The major at Fort Valor has a right to know that the hostiles have attacked your wagons and travelers might be next.”
The stage owner shifted on his feet. “I was planning on it as soon as I fou
nd out how Whitney was doing.”
Olivia lifted a brow as if challenging him.
His face darkened. “Hopkins,” he bellowed.
“Sir?”
“Get your gear and ride to the fort.”
“What you want me to do?”
Exasperated, Pierson yelled, “Bring the doctor, you fool, and tell them of the attack.” He turned to level a furious glare at Levi’s wife. “Satisfied?”
Zeke Hopkins seemed too dumbfounded to move.
Anselm stepped forward. “Watch yourself, Pierson. I won’t have Mrs. Hawkins talked to in that manner.”
“Well, if she minded her own business, I wouldn’t have to.”
Levi reached out and touched his wife’s arm. To his surprise, she shook her arm free.
Her hands balled into fist and she planted them on her hips.With a lift of her chin, she offered Pierson a defiant gaze. “Captain Merrick, I fear for Whitney’s health under this man’s care. Will your men move him to my home where he can be tended to with skilled care?”
“Mrs. Hawkins,” Pierson warned.
“Olivia, don’t mettle….”
But Levi’s caution went unheeded. She swirled her stance to take on her husband’s concern. “Should I remind you of the sermon you gave last Sunday? The good Samaritan?”
Levi could feel heat rise into his cheeks as he gazed away from the anger in her eyes.
“I will not leave an injured soul by the side of the road.” Olivia huffed. “I will take this man to our home. When the doctor arrives and pronounces him well enough to be in this man’s care, I will allow him to return. Captain, you have four men, correct?”
Anselm looked to Levi who shrugged. “I do.”
“Have them follow me.”She took a step forward.
Pierson moved to block her path.
Olivia’s eyes narrowed and he backed away.
“Pierson, I suggest you let the lady have her way,” Anselm suggested.
The stage owner gave a glower, then turned toward his desk.
Anselm called in his riders and motioned for them to follow Mrs. Hawkins.
As she held the door open for the men, Pierson spoke, “Since you’ve taken Whitney as your responsibility, I suggest, Levi, you send for the doctor on your own dime. He’s no longer my employee.”
