A Love of Her Own (17 page)

April and Natalie rushed out of the house and down the sidewalk in the direction of Mark’s home and office. Though it was dark now, gas lamps lit their way through the quiet Sunday night. Most people were already in for the evening or dining at the hotel or one of the local cafés.

“I hope Willard will be okay,” Natalie said, trying to keep up with April’s long strides. “May adores him and they’re a devoted couple.”

“Me too. I wonder how Beth knew what to do.” April could see that Natalie was having trouble keeping up with her, although April had no clue where Mark’s place was.

“Mark’s office is beyond the sheriff’s sign and just past the saloon there,” Natalie said, as though she’d read April’s mind. She picked up her pace to match April’s.

Tinkling music could be heard from the saloon as they drew closer, and April saw a familiar lanky cowboy heading toward its door. Was that Wes? She hoped her eyes were deceiving her. As they neared, he paused with his hand draped across the swinging doors and looked right at her.

“Good evening, Wes,” Natalie said, slowing her steps just a bit.

Wes tipped his hat, looking at Natalie and then April. “You ladies seem to be in a hurry to put a fire out.” His hazel eyes lingered a moment longer on April than was decent. She fought the queasiness that rose when she realized he was visiting a saloon. Just the thing she figured Wes would do. Why did the fact bother her? It wasn’t any of her business what he did. But she halfheartedly wished he wasn’t going in there.

“We can’t stand here and chitchat.” April gave him a frosty stare, and a scowl flittered across his face. “We are going to fetch the doctor for Mr. Wingate.” She started to walk past him but he grabbed her arm. April looked down at him as though his hand was a snake. “Please let go.”

Releasing her arm, he said, “I’m sorry . . . I was just trying to find out if I could be of any help.”

“Not this time, Wes,” Natalie said, and they hurried on, leaving Wes looking after them.

Wes hit the saloon doors hard, his fist knocking them aside as he made his way into the saloon and strode straight up to the bar like he’d done long ago. Or at least it seemed that way. A few patrons looked around, the noise startling them from their card game or gabbing as they shared a drink. He put his hat on the counter and ordered a whiskey when Mel, the bartender, walked up. He wanted to get his mind off April in the rose dress, which was totally out of style for her but in near-perfect condition. He should know. He had taken it from his mother’s cedar chest. April looked delicate, fresh, and sweet as a mountain morning. Goodness! He wanted to pull her to his chest and breathe in the scent of her silky blonde hair. Yes, he reckoned a drink would help remove that image.

While he waited for Mel to fetch the drink, he turned and leaned against the bar’s counter, looking around for any familiar faces, but he didn’t see anyone he knew. Several ladies wearing low-necked satin dresses, their faces painted heavily, perched on the laps of several men, laughing and drinking as someone doled out a deck of cards. The piano player, cigar hanging out of his lips, pounded on the keys enthusiastically. Some men staggered toward the dance hall girls as they danced. Out of the corner of his eye, Wes watched a couple pair off and wander upstairs.

Suddenly he felt out of touch. This is how it must look to the person who wasn’t drinking—not a pretty sight. He felt uncomfortable in his own skin and decided he’d had enough. He’d seen that look of disgust in April’s eyes too. This wasn’t for him anymore, and he couldn’t step back into this life again. Not now, the good Lord willing.

Mel plopped the drink in front of him as Wes picked up his hat and turned to go.

“Aren’t you gonna have your drink, Wes?” Mel placed both hands on the counter and leaned over, staring at him.

“I changed my mind, Mel,” Wes said, flipping two coins onto the counter. “Be seeing you around.”

April was grateful for the soft feather bed as she sank down into it and pulled up the toile comforter. It had been a long day. The moonlight danced against the walls, creating shadows from the voile sheers that moved gently with the breeze. She’d left the window open slightly to cool off her upstairs room. Soon she wouldn’t be able to do that if the cold weather appeared before she left for Colorado.

Since leaving home, she had made some nice friends that made staying until Josh returned bearable. The weather was almost perfect, so she couldn’t complain about that either. And now she had a fabulous horse to ride. But she was beginning to miss her own bed and surroundings. She decided that once Josh and Juliana returned, she’d stay only a few more days.

The incident with Willard had been scary, but it had turned out better than April thought it would. Mark told them that Beth had been right. Willard had suffered a mild heart attack and would need to stay in bed for a few weeks. Since he was unable to climb the stairs, Miss Margaret made up a bed in a smaller downstairs bedroom to move the Wingates into. Everyone pitched in to help. May, still somewhat frazzled, thanked everyone for their help and Beth for her quick action. They discovered from the questions Mark asked of Beth that she used to work for her father as his nurse before her baby was born. April was surprised that they hadn’t discovered this bit of information on the long stagecoach ride. But then, she had never even tried to reach out to Beth.

April had enjoyed the rest of the evening with Miss Margaret and her daughters. She had to smile when she saw how the two sisters liked to tease each other unmercifully.

April stayed behind to talk to Miss Margaret. She was nervous about telling her what had happened at Wes’s and having to admit that he was right about her clothes.

Miss Margaret put her at ease and gently told her, “No one wanted to say anything to you to keep from hurting your feelings.”

“I don’t understand,” April said. “I would have wanted to know. As it was, Wes figured that he owed it to me to not only tell me but also throw me into the water trough with a bar of soap!”

Miss Margaret laughed and said, “So that’s why you had no belt or boots on. I wondered.”

“Well, I bartered the boots and belt for the horse,” April said. “He said he was going to give them to his lady friend. I’d rather he not tell me that part.”

Miss Margaret raised an eyebrow. “Does that matter to you?”

“Of course not! I hardly know him—and what I do know is he is not what my father would approve of at all.”

“Your father’s approval obviously means a lot to you—but does his approval mean more than how you may feel about someone? Remember, it’s not what a man possesses that shows you his heart.”

April sensed that Miss Margaret had taken Wes’s side. “Well, I’ve seen his place and he doesn’t seem concerned about taking care of it. Only his horses.”

“Wes cares about many things . . . but some men have to be shown what a woman likes. Could be he feels he’s never had anyone to care about him or about what he thought one way or another. Maybe he had little direction in his life. Your brother had some influence on him just in the last couple of months, and Wes is trying so hard.”

April knew that he and Josh were friends but was still doubtful.

Miss Margaret continued. “How do you think he was able to get that dress for you?”

“How did you know about the dress, and how does that have anything to do with what he’s like?” April asked, wanting to know more of the older lady’s wisdom. Her own mother had never talked with her like this.

“It has a lot to do with his character, April. When I saw him at church, he pulled me aside and asked me if I had talked to you about the peculiar smell on your clothes. When I said no, he said he had an idea that might solve it and would need my help. So I helped Wes by sneaking the dress in your room before you got back from the ranch today. It was his way of trying to help you without further embarrassment. I noticed that you seem to like the dress you’re wearing, even though it’s probably not the kind of dress you’d own.”

“You’re certainly right about that. It’s more like something my mother wears. Funny thing is, the fabric is very soft and the simplicity of it suits me,” she said. Then she confided in Miss Margaret that she’d seen Wes going into the saloon earlier and how it bothered her.

Miss Margaret said softly, “April, don’t judge a book by its cover. Look beyond what you see on the outside. Why don’t you think about what really matters to you?” Miss Margaret then leaned over and gave April a quick hug, much to April’s surprise, then bade her good night and left her wondering about the tall, lanky cowboy.

So here she lay in bed, ruminating about a man she thought was trying to humiliate her, and Miss Margaret told her just the opposite was true. Why get mixed up over someone with as tough an exterior as Wes when her time here was short? Her parents would not approve at all! That she knew for certain. But Miss Margaret had gone right past that by asking what really mattered to
her
. What indeed? No one had ever cared enough to ask, and until now, April had never considered it either.

Now she was wide awake. Restless, she got out of bed and dug around in her valise for her Bible. She hadn’t spent a lot of time reading the Bible lately, and for a long time now she’d felt like God was far away from her. Tonight she wanted to look to Him for direction and comfort.

She kept thinking about what Miss Margaret said.
What really
matters to me?
April wasn’t sure she even knew or had a purpose. She turned to Romans and started reading. After a while she landed on chapter 12, and when she got to verse 3, something about it spoke to her.

For I say, through the grace given unto me, to every man that is among you, not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think; but to think soberly, according as God hath dealt to every man the measure of faith.

April thought about that for a minute. Did that mean the only way she could really begin to understand herself was by learning who God is and what He could do in her life? She had to admit to herself she was not in the habit of putting anyone above herself on a regular basis. A lesson she realized now that she’d learned from her father. Though she loved him, April didn’t want to mirror his aloof attitude toward others. Could she change that habit?

No, but I can
, a gentle voice reminded her.

April’s heart thumped as she bowed her head.
Where do I start,
Lord? I’ve not taken time for You in a long while. Will You forgive
me?
She paused, thinking.
I’m a bit out of practice .
 
.
 
. and I guess
that’s why I haven’t been very sensitive to others and say things
without thinking how it might make them feel. You know I love my
father, but there are things I see in him that I don’t want to become.
Help me to see others through Your eyes, Lord, and not mine. Change
my heart and help me be a better person. Amen.

April lifted her head as tears wet her cheeks. She felt peace flood her heart and mind and knew she’d have no problem sleeping now.

13

Autumn was just beginning to expose itself with a few dashes of color sprinkled across the mountainside as Indian summer settled over Lewistown. April peeked out her curtained window overlooking Main Street. This afternoon would be a lovely day to go riding. She was feeling energetic and would see if Natalie or Louise would care to go riding with her, but first there were several things she must attend to today. She needed to send a telegraph to her father’s bank to transfer cash to the Lewistown bank. Then she’d set about buying a couple of dresses to replace the ones that were ruined. Today, however, April would wear the calico dress again.

She hurried down to breakfast. As usual she seemed to be the last one to come downstairs, and everyone looked up as she burst in. “Good morning!” She took a plate off the sideboard and scooped up some scrambled eggs.

Everyone said hello between bites. “There’s fresh coffee or hot tea, April. Would you care for a cup?” Louise asked.

“Coffee would be just the thing. Isn’t it a beautiful morning?” April said, taking a seat next to Louise. “Where are May and Willard? Has Beth already had breakfast?”

“You’re certainly in a wonderful mood!” Natalie commented, pausing midair with her teacup to her lips.

Miss Margaret dabbed her lips with her napkin. “May took Willard a tray, so she is eating with him in his room. Beth ate earlier and took Anne back upstairs.”

“Is there something I can do to help May? I know she was extremely worried.” April buttered her bread, then spread a generous helping of huckleberry jam on it. She couldn’t help but notice that everyone was silent and looking at her in a curious way.

“What?” April asked, looking around the table.

Louise set her fork down. “It just that we’re a little surprised that you’d want to—” She paused, then added quickly, “seeing that you won’t be here long.”

“Well, that was the old me. The new me wants to see how I can be more useful while I pass the time here until Josh and Juliana return. I may decide to stay longer until my parents return from Ireland.”