Cowboy to the Rescue (10 page)

“My brothers and I did, too.” Nate winked at her as he pulled out another box, and her heart warmed. Not for the first time did she consider how different he was from his father.

The box he held contained plates separated by flexible, flannel-covered dividers. All in all, they counted twenty-four place settings, plus numerous serving pieces. Platters, serving bowls, finger bowls, creamers, sugar bowls, all in the same blue, silver-rimmed Wedgwood pattern.

As they began to repack the items, Susanna felt close to tears. Not one piece was broken. Mrs. Northam would be so pleased, and she deserved this wonderful gift. Susanna could only pray that she would never know how her gift was tainted by an unfaithful husband.

* * *

“I can hardly believe nothing’s broken. That’s answered prayer.” Nate tucked the inventory list into his shirt in case Mother returned early and asked about the fancy parchment paper he was carrying. “And once again, I have you to thank.” He eyed Susanna, who was daintily dabbing her face with a handkerchief. “Sorry you had to work up a sweat, but this barn gets mighty hot during the summer.” He tried to think of a clever comparison as to how hot it got, but nothing came to mind.

“Mr. Nate Northam!” She glared at him in that cute way of hers. “Ladies do not sweat. We perspire.” She sniffed with mock indignation. “And you’re very welcome about the china.”

Zack snorted out a laugh at the lady’s remark. “I should go, boss. The boys will wonder why I’m not out there working alongside ’em.”

“The boys can wait. I need you here another minute.” Nate wouldn’t give Mr. Anders any cause to worry about his daughter’s reputation. “Susanna, do you give your stamp of approval on the way we stored the boxes?”

“Now, wouldn’t I have said so if I didn’t?”

“Yes, indeed, I’m sure you would have.” He loved it when she got sassy. It showed spirit and optimism, maybe even faith in the midst of her difficulties. Yet one small thing nagged at him. As they’d opened each of the boxes, she hadn’t viewed their contents with the same covetous glint he’d seen in the eyes of the trading post owner’s wife. In fact, Susanna had inspected the dishes with a critical, even knowledgeable approach, searching for possible blemishes. She appeared to be familiar with Wedgwood and named other china patterns made by the company.

Were the Anderses truly poor, as he’d assumed? Had they fallen from wealth into hard times? Was a patrician background the reason Susanna carried herself with such dignity? Did Mr. Anders want to seek his fortune in the San Juan silver fields so they could return to some former social status? Nate didn’t dare ask Susanna these questions, for that would be the worst side of rude. Maybe it was time he got better acquainted with her father so he could disguise his questions as friendly interest.

He sent Susanna out first, then waited a few minutes while Zack shuffled his feet impatiently.

“Good work handling that china, Zack. You’ve been a big help with it all along.”

The old cowboy grinned and shrugged. “My ma never had anything that fancy, but she did teach me how to treat nice things.”

“Good, because I want you to meet me in the addition tomorrow morning first thing. There’s nobody I can trust to help me finish it.”

As expected, the other man rebuffed his praise. “I’ll be glad to, boss. Now, I’d better head out.”

As Zack left, Nate gave one last appraising look at the stall where he’d stored the boxes of china. The men, and even his brothers, knew better than to go poking around the barn, and the dust-and straw-covered canvas on top of the boxes would keep anyone from prying.

He ambled out of the barn and headed toward the house to take the inventory list to the Colonel’s office. He didn’t particularly want to see his father, but if he was in, Nate would have a chance to tell him how much Susanna had helped with the china...again.

Entering the house through the back door, he followed his nose to the kitchen. There he found Susanna up to her elbows in dishwater and Angela pulling bread pans from the oven.

“I sure did come in at the right time, didn’t I?” Nate swallowed hard at the overwhelming aroma of the freshly baked bread.

Always accommodating, Angela dumped a loaf onto a cloth on the table and cut a large slice for him. “Butter, Señor Nate?” She brought a crock from the side table, then went back to her work.

Nate slathered butter on the slice and started to take a bite, then paused. Susanna hadn’t spoken to him or even looked his way since he came into the room. That was taking their secret a bit too far. If she’d just look at him, he could give her a surreptitious wink. Since she didn’t seem inclined to do so, he broke off a bite of bread, stepped over to her and put it up to her lips.

“Want a bite?”

She pulled back from him. “From those dirty hands?” She sniffed in her haughty way. “No, thank you.”

Laughing, he popped the bite into his own mouth. This little gal got under his skin in the worst—or the best—way. What he wouldn’t give to just consider courting her.

He whistled as he strode up the hall to the Colonel’s office at the front of the house. Maybe his father would be out in the fields, although this summer he was spending less time working side by side with the hands than in previous years. If he wasn’t in, Nate would tuck the inventory list in his desk drawer, where Mother never looked.

At his knock, the Colonel called, “Enter,” in his gruff, commanding voice.

A sigh of disappointment escaped Nate as he obeyed the order. He crossed the room, removing the inventory paper from inside his shirt. “All there and in perfect condition.”

“Hmm.” The Colonel didn’t look up from his ledger. “That was fast. You sure you didn’t break anything?”

Clenching his teeth, Nate placed the paper on the desk. “If it hadn’t been for Miss Anders, I could well have broken some. She made suggestions on how to go about it, then on how to store everything until the party.”

At the mention of Susanna’s name, the Colonel’s head snapped up, and he glared at Nate. “She helped you, did she?”

“Yessir, she and Zack.” Better get that information out there right away so the Colonel didn’t assume they’d been alone. Yet at his father’s harsh expression, rebellion kicked up inside Nate. “And by the way, I promised her one of Bess’s pups.”

The Colonel placed his knuckles on his desk, stood and leaned toward Nate. “They are not yours to promise. You know very well we’re going to raise those dogs to herd cattle, and we need every one of them. Why do you think I sent for an expert dog handler all the way from Scotland? To train them, that’s why.”

Nate glared back at his father while a half dozen retorts came to mind. In the end, he just spun on his heel and strode from the room, not bothering to shut the door. He stormed out of the house and across the yard back to the barn. Up in the loft, he grabbed a pitchfork and started tossing down hay. Lots of hay. And when he’d tossed down more than the horses would need that evening, he climbed down and tossed some of it out the door into the attached corral, where the horses already had plenty to eat. Then he kicked a fence post. Which only served to send pain shooting up his leg. Now he had to move the extra hay back to the loft so the horses wouldn’t overeat and get sick.

Court Susanna? What was he thinking? Two unchangeable things kept him from it. His father’s vise grip on his life, and his own inability to manage his temper. That last one worried him most. He didn’t really want to use that pitchfork on the Colonel, but someday he might just give in to the temptation to land a punch on his father’s square, stubborn jaw.

Chapter Eleven

“B
efore coming here, I never ate anything made from chokecherries.” Susanna stirred a bite of pancake into the dark red puddle on her plate. “This syrup is delicious.”

“Just don’t eat the berries raw.” Nate sat across the kitchen table from her, his teasing smirk not getting in the way of his polishing off his griddle cakes. “There’s a reason they’re called
choke
cherries. Right, Angela?”

Working as usual at the stove, Angela nodded her agreement. “
Sí.
Never eat them without sugar or honey, or you will be sorry.”

Seated next to Susanna, Rosamond ate her breakfast with the same enthusiasm as her brother. “Maybe you’ll still be here in September when we gather the berries and help Angela put them up. Won’t that be fun?”

“Oh, yes. I always loved—” she stopped before blurting out that she’d helped the family’s cook put up jelly “—making blackberry jelly. I’m sure this will be just as enjoyable.”

His mouth too full for speaking, Nate nodded and arched his eyebrows, as if he was saying he also hoped she would still be here. If it wasn’t for the Colonel, Susanna could almost wish for the same thing.

As these few days had passed, it had become harder to remember all the reasons she’d been taught to hate Yankees. She found this family not just tolerable, but worthy of her friendship. Except for the Colonel, of course. A lady couldn’t be expected to sit at the supper table every evening under his angry looks without feeling a bit uncharitable in return, especially knowing what she did about his treatment of young Rita. But otherwise, Susanna’s days had been fairly pleasant as she basked in the hospitality of the rest of the family.

Still, she must keep Nate at arm’s length and not let their friendship go any deeper. She’d always had her heart set on marrying a Southern gentleman just like Daddy and Edward Jr., and she must not lose sight of that dream. The South was her world, the place where she belonged, where she was welcomed by everyone. This small community could not compare to all she’d left behind.

But then there was Nate. No Southern gentleman had ever dug into her heart as he had begun to do. Perhaps the only way to keep a hold on her emotions was to treat all the Northam brothers the same. “Where are Rand and Tolley? I never see them except at supper.”

Nate’s brief scowl surprised her, but she had no time to examine his reaction.

“My brothers and I are out early for chores every day. They grab a bite to eat in the bunkhouse, then head out with the hands.”

“But you don’t?”

“Usually I do. Right now I’m building the addition.” He shoveled in another bite.

“Oh, yes.” She remembered what he’d said about the structure. “Your father’s gift to your mother for their anniversary.” She would wink at him if such a gesture wasn’t unladylike.

“Yep.” He kept his expression neutral.

“I must say I’m impressed to learn you’re a builder.” She was rewarded with his most attractive smile, and her uncontrollable emotions did somersaults inside her. Such feelings would not help her reach her dream of going home.

“Nate’s had a hand in just about every building on this property.” Rosamond’s voice was filled with sisterly pride. “Not to mention the church and several barns for our neighbors.”

“My, my.” Susanna could not imagine her own brother doing such hard labor, but she’d grown very proud of Daddy for learning many manual skills on the trek west.

Nate stood and carried his plate to the dishpan by the sink. “Can’t sit around jawing. Gotta get to work. What are you girls doing today?” He directed his question to Susanna, but Rosamond didn’t seem to notice.

“Mother suggested that I take Susanna on a tour of the ranch.” She began to clear the table but paused. “That is, if you’d like to go.”

“I would indeed. That is, after I wash these dishes.” Since Rita had been relieved of the duty, Susanna tried to step in as often as she could. She actually enjoyed the chore. She’d been surprised to see the indoor pump and sink like the one her family had back home. A pipe in the sink drained the water out through the floor and all the way to the kitchen garden.

“No, no,
señorita.
” Angela clicked her tongue in a maternal fashion. “You wash dishes yesterday. Today you go along with Señorita Rosamond.” She set her stirring spoon on the table beside the stove and stepped toward the dishpan. “I will wash them.”

“Please let me.” Susanna blocked her as graciously as she could. “You all work so hard, and it would be silly for me to sit around with my hands folded in my lap.”

Her words brought an approving smile from both Nate and Rosamond.

“Let her help, Angela.” Nate spoke with a hint of gentle authority, and the housekeeper nodded her acceptance.

“
Sí,
Señor Nate.”

“I’ll help, too.” Rosamond tied on an apron and offered one to Susanna.

“You ladies have a nice time.” Nate disappeared through the kitchen door.

With some difficulty, Susanna turned her attention to the task at hand. Too bad Nate couldn’t go with them on the tour of the ranch.

Once the chore was completed and she had checked to make sure Daddy had everything he needed, Susanna joined her hostess outside the back door. “Is Mrs. Northam well? I wondered why she wasn’t in the kitchen for breakfast.”

“She’s very well, thank you.” Rosamond beckoned to Susanna, and they began their walk toward the outbuildings. “This morning she’s working on Father’s anniversary present. It’s a surprise, of course, so she always has to wait to work on it until he goes off on business or out to see how the men are managing things. Today he went to Alamosa and will be there overnight, so she’ll have all day and evening.”

“I see.” Despite her dislike of the Colonel, Susanna felt that funny little tickle inside over helping to keep a secret. “Do you know what she’s giving him?”

“Yes.” Rosamond giggled. “And I know what he
thinks
she’s giving him. She’s making a quilt from scraps of all our clothes since we came to Colorado. It’s for him to take on trail drives or other such trips. She has a Singer, so she should get much of it done today.” She snickered. “Father knows about the quilt, but makes a big show of pretending not to know.”

Fondly remembering her own parents’ secrets at gift-giving time, Susanna laughed. “But that’s not the real present?”

“Nope.” Rosamond looped an arm around Susanna’s and leaned close. “She’s having a set of silver-and-turquoise spurs made for him by our blacksmith. Just the three of us know about it.” Another giggle. “And now four. I can trust you not to tell Father, can’t I?”

Susanna could barely keep from choking. No, she would not tell the Colonel about the spurs or anything else. She could hardly look at him without feeling a little sick. Forcing herself to recall his generous gift of china now hidden in the barn, she managed a smile. “Of course. I didn’t realize your family employed a blacksmith. And to think he’s a silversmith, too.”

“Bert’s like everyone else around here. He has to do more than one job.” She waved a hand in the direction of an outbuilding near the stable. “That’s his workshop.” Above the weatherworn wooden structure, a gray stream of smoke drifted into the air. “We’ll go there in a minute, but first I have something else to show you.”

They had crossed the wide backyard to the barn, and Susanna surveyed the place with interest as if she’d never seen it before. When they went inside, she studiously kept from looking toward the stall where a deceptively dusty canvas covered the china crates. Fortunately, Rosamond’s attention was on Bess, who bounded over to them, her tail wagging furiously.

Kneeling down, Susanna pretended not to have met the dog. As uncomfortable as it made her feel, she decided not telling all she knew was not the same as lying, especially when the secrets she was keeping were not hers to divulge.

“What a sweet dog.” Susanna suffered Bess’s affectionate licks with good grace. “And what adorable puppies.” Which one would Nate give to her? Maybe the chubby little one who was pouncing boldly through the straw to join them. No, she’d much prefer the little runt she’d held on Monday. Right now the little female stayed in the back corner of the stall whimpering for her mother and melting Susanna’s heart. She’d always felt a special affection for the underdog.

“Father and Mr. Eberly brought a trainer from Scotland to teach them how to herd cattle.” Rosamond picked up the brave puppy and cuddled it. “Maisie gets to take care of the puppies’ father. It’s an experiment, so we’ll see how it works out.” She held it up with its nose to hers and murmured, “You’re going to tell those great big steers what to do, aren’t you?”

As Susanna tickled the runt’s tummy, she noticed it had one underdeveloped rear paw. The puppy settled comfortably into her arms and promptly fell asleep. Susanna decided she would call her Lazy Daisy. “When do you think they’ll be weaned?” She could hardly wait to make this little one her own.

“Usually before they’re two months old, but we won’t rush it. Father wants to be sure they’re happy and healthy before their training begins.” Rosamond spoke of the Colonel with great affection, but never called him by his rank, as Nate did. Susanna hadn’t noticed how Rand and Tolley referred to him.

After they had their fill of puppy affection, Rosamond took Susanna to the blacksmith shop and introduced her to Bert, a former slave. He showed them his handiwork, large silver plates fashioned to fit over the boot tops. Each was adorned with turquoise stones and delicate scrollwork. Even the leather bands and the spiked rowels had attractive etchings.

“Of course, Father won’t wear them for work, just for dressing up,” Rosamond said as they left the blacksmith to his work.

Susanna’s mind spun with the contradictions she was seeing. So the Colonel employed a former slave, entrusting him with such an important job as blacksmithing. Many Southerners, including Daddy, had often condemned the North for freeing the slaves and then not providing a livelihood for them. Once off the plantation, countless former slaves wandered the South with no way to earn a living. For all of his evil ways, this former officer had at least given a job to one such freedman.

When her family had sold their plantation, Susanna had been too young to have learned much about the day-to-day operation of producing a cotton crop. Now with Rosamond as her guide, she could observe the many and varied activities on a ranch, and she began to comprehend all the work that went into producing any sellable product, whether cotton or beef.

“Until we get more businesses in the area, Four Stones Ranch has to be self-sustaining.” Rosamond pointed to another structure beyond the blacksmith shop. “Besides Bert, we have Joe, who tans leather and makes anything from saddles to belts to boots. We won’t go over there because it really stinks when he’s tanning.”

Susanna had noticed the pungent smell and wondered what it was. Today a warm breeze carried most of the stench away.

Rosamond now indicated a distant field, where green, knee-high alfalfa waved in the breeze. “Of course, we grow our own feed for the animals.”

“And your own food,” Susanna said. “I certainly do admire that kitchen garden.”

“I noticed you liked the squash.” Rosamond wrinkled her nose. “You and Nate are the only ones who do, other than Mother and Father.”

Susanna felt another one of those emotional somersaults near her heart. As silly as it seemed, she was pleased to learn she and Nate liked some of the same things.

A high-pitched whinny sounded from a corral some distance from the barn, and both girls turned to investigate.

“Now, that’s exciting,” Rosamond said. “Looks like Rand’s planning to teach Tolley how to break a new horse.” She grabbed Susanna’s hand and rushed her toward the scene. “Let’s watch.”

Her excitement was catching, so Susanna ran along beside her and copied her as she climbed on the lower rail of the corral and hung over the upper rail to get a better view.

Rand was as tall as Nate and their father, but not as broad in the chest. He still gave the impression of being able to handle any of the varied duties of a cowboy. Right now he was murmuring instructions to his younger, shorter, thinner brother, who stood beside a restless horse. Susanna couldn’t hear their exact words, but Tolley seemed to chafe under Rand’s cautionary tone.

“If you can do it, I can.” Tolley turned away from his brother, slung a blanket on the horse’s back and transferred a saddle from the fence to the animal.

Before he could reach under and grab the cinch, the horse sidestepped and bucked, throwing the saddle to the ground.

“Whoa.” Rand, holding the bridle and reins, tried to apply a soothing touch, but the horse tossed its head and snorted angrily.

At least it sounded angry to Susanna. She glanced at Rosamond, who was chewing her lip. Sudden protectiveness for young Tolley filled Susanna’s heart. She’d noticed a bit of acrimony among the brothers, but this was certainly not the time for these two to argue. Lifting a silent prayer for both to be safe, she tightened her grip on the rail.

“Hey!” Nate appeared on the scene and entered the corral through a gate. “What do you think you’re doing?”

At his take-charge tone, relief swept through Susanna. She couldn’t stand it if anything happened to young Tolley. Like her little puppy, he almost seemed like the runt of the litter.

Rand rolled his eyes, but Tolley appeared relieved to see his oldest brother.

“Rand keeps treating me like a kid.” Tolley shot a glance toward Susanna and Rosamond, and his face reddened. “Why don’t you two go make a cake or something?”

Rosamond laughed, clearly not concerned about her little brother. “Or I could break that horse for you.”

Susanna had already stepped down from the fence, but she couldn’t walk away until she saw how Nate handled the situation.

“Rand, you know the Colonel put me in charge of breaking these horses.” Although his hands were bunched into fists, his voice was surprisingly calm.

His hands also fisted, Rand cast a quick glance toward Susanna, and the scowl he had aimed at Nate softened. “I know he did. He also told you to go all the way to Pueblo for supplies and build that addition and make sure the hands were kept busy.” He shrugged and gave Nate a smirking grin. “With all you’ve got to do, I’m just trying to help you out, big brother.”