Cutty (Prairie Grooms Book 8) (9 page)

“Blast!” He’d broken the handle! Now he owed someone a hammer. He turned it in his hand and saw “Turner” carved into the wood. He glanced around, spotted Tom Turner sawing a board and began to make his way toward him. “What a day I’m havin’,” he said as he walked.

But a broken hammer was the least of his worries. He was still thinking about what he was going to do that night. Sooner or later, he had to tell Nettie the truth.

Nine

He didn’t do it.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t; the words were on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill forth like a raging river. But Nettie was so happy with the dinner and dessert she’d prepared for him that he didn’t have the heart. He’d smiled and nodded, laughed, had a grand time. He supposed he was being selfish – he’d wanted one last heavenly evening with his daughter before he told her who he was. After that, she might never want to see him again.

A week later, though, he still hadn’t confessed. He was starting to miss Nettie’s laughter and teasing. Ryder’s house was coming along nicely, enough to allow Ryder and Seth to take off hunting for a few days. And this time, Newton had gone along with them.  Constance went to stay with August and Penelope while Ryder was off, not wanting to spend that time alone. And Imogene hadn’t been feeling well, so she was staying close to home.

Thankfully the weather was still fairly warm and the roof was done. But the house didn’t have any windows, doors, or a second-story floor, let alone amenities. Amon volunteered to keep working on it, having no orders to fill. Which was a miracle in itself, as his reputation for craftsmanship had spread as far as Oregon City – he’d just sent off a chair he’d made for a gentleman there.

All this meant that Cutty had time to spare and he needed to use it wisely. Maybe he should borrow a horse from Chase at the livery stable and ride out to visit with Nettie. Now was the perfect opportunity, and he’d better take it.

He hadn’t pictured talking alone with Nettie – he’d always imagined Amon there at her side. But maybe it was better this way – then he and Nettie could tell Amon together. Besides, Amon was one of the last people he wanted to upset. He liked him, a lot. In fact, there wasn’t anyone in Clear Creek that Cutty didn’t like. Not even Irene Dunnigan, and that said something.

He decided to put this plan into action, went to the livery stable, borrowed a horse and headed for Nettie’s place. When he got there she was weeding her little garden. “Howdy,” he said as he rode up.

“Well, hello,” she said as she straightened up from her work. “What brings you out here?”

“Do I need an excuse to come give ya a hard time?”

Nettie laughed. “Of course not. In fact, I was just going to put a kettle on the stove. Would you like some tea?”

“Ya know I do,” he said and dismounted. He led his horse to a hitching post and wrapped the reins around it a few times. “Got any cookies?”

“Made some yesterday,” she said with a smile. She left the garden, hoe in hand, went to him and kissed him on the cheek. “No work for you today?”

“If’n Ryder can take a few days off, I can too. In fact, I don’t see why Amon’s workin’ out there today. Ya’d think he’d rather spend time here.”

“He likes to keep busy and so do I. We spend enough time together in the evenings.” She motioned for him to follow her and he did.

They went into the house and straight to the kitchen where Nettie put a kettle of water on the stove, then went to a hutch and pulled out what she would need to make them each a cup of tea. Done , she brought a bowl to the table covered with a napkin. She removed it and his eyes brightened. “Molasses cookies! One of my favorites!”

“This is Madeline Berg’s recipe, though I think she got it from the Duchess of Stantham herself. As I understand it, her husband is mad for them.”

Cutty shuddered at the mention of Mr. Berg. Now there was a name he hadn’t heard in a while. “Yes, as I recall he did like ‘em. That makes two of us.”

“I wish I’d had the opportunity to meet the Duchess while I was still in England. At least Newton got to meet His Grace.” She sat at the table and took a cookie from the bowl. “Did you know them when they lived here?”

“Ya mean Duncan Cooke and his wife?” Cutty nervously drummed his fingers on the table a few times. “Er … a little.”

“What are they like?” she asked.

“Oh, pretty much like everybody else, I guess. He’s the oldest of the three Cooke brothers. She was the daughter of a Frenchie trapper named Anton Duprie.”

“Yes, I knew that much. What I don’t know is, what are they really like? You know, did the duke like to laugh? Was his wife pleasant? I’ve heard different things about them, curious things.”

“That don’t surprise me,” he said flatly and took a bite of cookie. “That Cozette’s kind of a strange one.”

“How so?”

“She can shoot a gun as well as any man, for one. And she dressed like a boy for years ‘fore she married Duncan. Her pop’s idea – wanted to protect her from boys, I guess.”

“How extraordinary,” she said. “I heard stories from Penelope and Constance, but wasn’t sure I believed them. After all, whoever heard of a girl that could shoot a bow and arrow? It would be preposterous in England. At least, the way she did, for hunting and such.”

“Well, this ain’t England, is it?” he asked. “In fact, I’d pay a pretty penny to see that woman shoot her bow in the middle of one of them fancy balls they got there.”

She laughed. “That would be quite the sight, wouldn’t it?”

“Ya ain’t kiddin’,” he said as the teakettle began to whistle.

Nettie got up, fetched the kettle, poured water into a waiting teapot and brought it to the table. “What about the Bergs?” she asked as she returned the kettle to the stove. “How well did you know them?”

Cutty had a sudden flashback of carrying a trussed-up Cozette down the side of a steep hill during a faked rescue. Then again, he really was trying to rescue someone – himself. The thought of who he used to be left a sick feeling in his stomach. He’d left Sadie Cooke in a precarious and life-threatening situation in order to get his hands on Cozette. Both could have died because of him and, as he recalled, almost did.

He swallowed hard and forced a smile. “Heroic,” he said. “Andel Berg is nothing short of heroic. That’s the best way to describe a man like that.”

“Then the stories are true?” she whispered in fascination and sat. “Eloise told me that Madeline Berg is actually a princess from another country. They left with Duncan and his wife so she could ascend the throne!”

“That’s ‘bout the size of it,” he agreed. He swallowed again, and noticed he was beginning to sweat. All this talk of Duncan Cooke and Andel Berg was bringing back far too many memories of his old ways. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come out here and tell her who he was – he could hardly stand their current conversation

He decided he’d better change the subject. “So, you and Amon talk about younguns yet?”

“Children?” she asked with a bemused look. “It might have been mentioned a time or two.”

“Think ya’ll have any soon?”

“Cutty, we haven’t much control over something like that! When one is forthcoming, you’ll be the first to know.”

“I think Amon oughta be the first,” he said with a grin.

She shook her head and laughed. “What shall they call you?” she suddenly asked.

His mouth began to open and the word was out before he had a chance to stop it. “Grandpa.”

Nettie’s eyes brightened as she smiled. “I would like nothing more. You are rather like a father to me …”

He closed his eyes and winced, his lower lip beginning to tremble.

“Cutty,” she said with concern, “what’s wrong?”

He blinked a few times and shook his head. “I, I should go.”

“But you’ve only just arrived.”

“I know, but I shouldn’ta come. I’m gonna ruin everythin’!”

“What do you mean, you’re going to ruin everything? I don’t understand. What’s the matter?”

“Nettie … I … that is to say, I’m …”

“Cutty?” she said, her voice cracking with mounting concern.

He looked her in the eye and gulped. “Nettie …”

“Whatever it is, you know you can tell me. Tell me anything. I won’t get upset.”

“Oh, ya might …”

“How could I ever get upset with you?” she said and gave him a warm smile. “I love you.”

He shut his eyes tight as his hands clenched. Finally he looked at her again, eyes full of tears. He took a deep breath, and began to speak – in his own voice. “My dear sweet Nettie, you don’t know me. Not like you should. I’ve been lying to you, lying to both you and Newton and everyone else in this town.”

She stared at him blankly. “What did you say?” Though she seemed equally shocked at
how
he’d said it.

“I’m a stupid fool, a wastrel,” he said and quickly stood. “A man who should be taken out and shot for what he’s done.”

Nettie continued to gape at him. “What?”

“Nettie dear, my name is not Cutty, or at least … not exactly.”

“Not exactly?” she asked, bewildered.

“The last few years, I have gone by ‘Cutty’ … but before that I was known by another name.”

“Good gracious,” she whispered as she also stood. “Cutty, what are you saying? Who
are
you?”

He gave her a pleading look, closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “My name … is Thackary Cuthbert Holmes.” He opened his eyes. “I’m your father.”

* * *

Nettie felt the world spin around her, and she fell into her chair, never once taking her eyes off him. Cutty was Thackary Holmes?
The
Thackary Holmes? And Thackary Holmes was her … her
father
?! She shook her head in disbelief as tears filled her eyes. Not that she didn’t already know about Thackary Holmes, but … “How can this be?” she croaked.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you before, my darling, but I was …” His eyes filled with tears. “… afraid.” His jaw trembled, and she noticed hers did too. “So very afraid …”

She gripped the edge of the table and tried to make sense of what he’d just told her. “How …?” was all she could manage. He sat again, reached across the table and tried to take one of her hands, but she yanked it away. “I don’t understand … why are you doing this?” Then a little louder: “Why are you here?”

“Calm down, please …” He shuddered as his tears fell. “You have no idea how hard this is … I love you! I’ve been such a fool for so long, but I love you. Like … like family.”

His tears seemed genuine enough, but how was she to know? If he was indeed telling the truth, which she suspected he was, then how could she trust him? He’d never done anything, made any effort to see her as a child … her eyes went wide. “You really didn’t know, did you?” she said, her voice trailing off.

“About you and Newton? No, I didn’t. Not until the day you stepped off the stage.”

Her eyes met his. “You collapsed …”

“Because I heard Newton tell Imogene who his father was … it knocked the wind right out of me.”

She put her hand on the table again and stared at him. “Imogene … does she know?”

He nodded. “Yes, she does. She figured it out before I could work up the nerve to tell her.” He shrugged, his smile weak. “And she insists, rightly so, that we cannot marry until all this is cleared up. Provided, that is, that I live long enough.”

She gaped at him a moment. “Talk.”

He raised a single eyebrow. “What … what do you want me to say?”

“The truth. All of it,” she sobbed.

He swallowed and cleared his throat. “I know what a shock this must be, you finding out like this, but I could keep silent no longer. Nettie, I will understand if you don’t want to ever see me again, but …”

She shook her head, eyes wide. “You didn’t know,” she said again, her voice barely above a whisper.

“No.”

“She never looked for you,” she said, her eyes drifting to the table.

“Your mother? No, she didn’t. Given the blackguard I was, that was wise of her.”

Nettie looked at him. “She kept us from you …”

“I don’t blame her. If I was her, I’d have done the same.” He leaned toward her again. “Your mother had every reason to keep you away from me, for your own good. But I’m not that man anymore. In fact, I was beginning to not be that man anymore when your mother and I … still, I was bad enough for her to make the wisest choice possible.” He sighed heavily. “To not tell you and your brother about me. Or me about you.”

Her eyes roamed his features and she gasped. “I have your eyes …”

“Yes, and your mother’s countenance,” he added softly.

She shook in her chair with silent sobs as her tears fell. “My mother …
hic
… she should’ve told Newton at least … instead the baron, he heard it from him.”

“No – it would have done no good, and possibly ill. She was right to take it to her grave.”

Nettie could hold back the sobs no longer. “Why?!” she cried. “Why did you wait so long to tell me?” She looked at him, eyes red. “Does Newton know?”

He shook his head. “No. I wanted to tell you first, and I thought today was as good as any since Amon isn’t here. I thought it might give you time to think about what you wanted to do.”

“Do? What am I supposed to do?”

He gave her a helpless look. “To choose. You may want to throw me out and tell me never to set foot outside your door again, or throw your arms around me and let me tell you again how sorry I am. I hope for the latter, but couldn’t blame you for the former. The choice is yours, Nettie.”