Dreaming on Daisies (15 page)

She gave him a saintly smile. “I imagine this is the first time you have confessed what actually happened, Mr. Pape. I should think you would feel better getting that off your conscience. I, for one, am quite proud of you for doing so. I realize you could as easily have prevaricated.”

“Pervari—what? I got no idea what that means.”

“Lied, Mr. Pape. You could have lied, but you chose to tell the truth. It takes a real man to do that, especially when it might cast you in a poor light.”

“Oh. I suppose I did.” Charlie’s chest swelled, and he beamed. “Thank you, Mrs. Cooper.” He bobbed his head, feeling better about himself and the world than he had in days. “I think I need to rest now, but I thank you for the company and the coffee. I suppose if you happen to be out this way, you can stop by again. If you have a mind to, that is.”

She wobbled to her feet. “We shall see what transpires. But before I leave, let me say one more thing. It would profit you to consider your ways. Next time you might not be so blessed to have someone come to your rescue when drink causes you to fall, whether it be from a tree in front of a bull or onto a sidewalk in front of a lady.”

Giving him a steady stare, she waited for a span of seconds before she continued. “And let me assure you, changing your ways would profit others around you, especially your daughter, as well as giving you a strong degree of self-respect.”

He bristled and clenched his fingers. “I don’t need you or anybody else tellin’ me how to take care of my business, lady. I’ll see you to the door.”

Mrs. Cooper leveled him with a sorrowful gaze, then turned and walked toward the front of the house. “No need. I can easily see myself out. Take care of that arm, Mr. Pape.”

Chapter Fifteen

April 30, 1881

Tom stepped off the stage at the station on the edge of Baker City’s business district and gaped. This couldn’t be the same town he’d left behind six years ago. At that time it had one main street with a couple of saloons, a general store, a church or two, a school, and not much else.

That was one of the reasons he’d skedaddled—that, and Ma. Would Pa and Leah be happy to see him? For that matter, would they know him? He’d changed a lot from a wet-behind-the-ears fifteen-year-old and become a man.

“Hey, mister.” The stage driver thumped his knuckles against a bag lashed to the roof. “You want this now, or you gonna pick it up at the station later?”

All Tom had thought about was getting to town. For some reason, his plans hadn’t extended much past his arrival. All he knew was he planned to make Pa pay for what he did to their family. He wasn’t sure what he’d do yet, but once he arrived on the ranch he’d figure it out. He straightened his shoulders. “Leave it here.”

“It’ll cost you two bits extra if you leave it overnight.” The driver unbuckled the straps over the load of luggage and tossed the first one to his partner.

“Then I’ll take it now.” Tom held out his arms and caught the heavy canvas bag, nearly landing in the dirt beside it. He grabbed the handles and heaved it off the ground. All his belongings in one container. Pathetic that he didn’t have more to show for his life. That was Pa’s fault as well. And even more wretched that he couldn’t spare a two-bit piece to store his bag rather than lug it all the way to the ranch. A mile had never felt so far.

His stomach rumbled, reminding him it had been hours since they’d stopped for a bite to eat. Why hadn’t he brought extra grub as the other passengers had? Everything always came back to money—or Pa’s pride; Pa couldn’t set that aside for a minute. Well, that would change soon, if he had anything to say about it.

Leah stuck the branding iron deep into the coals and wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her sleeve. They’d had to delay this chore for a week due to Buddy being laid up and to Pa’s broken arm.

If Steven had more experience working with cattle, they probably could have managed alone, but she had to admit the man had been more help than she’d expected. Still, she was grateful Buddy’s back was better. He’d kept the fire hot and shooed the calves back to their mamas when she and Steven finished.

Steven leaned over the water trough, splashed cold water on his face, then removed a soiled handkerchief from his pocket and passed it across his cheeks. “So what’s next?”

She held back a grin. “You missed a little.” Pointing at the streak of mud running from his forehead to his ear, she snickered. “I should have kept quiet. You don’t look a bit like a banker today. I’d almost think you were raised around this kind of work, the way you’ve been catching on the past few hours.”

He cast her a strange look. “I was. You don’t remember me mentioning that a week ago?”

Leah withdrew her gloves and stuffed them in the hip pocket of her trousers. “I guess I do, now that you tax me about it. But you said it was a farm, not a ranch.”

He kicked a loose coal back into the fire pit. “Yes. Most of my life until I was grown. I worked with my pa, then with my stepfather.”

She shook her head. “I would never leave the ranch for any reason.”

It was hard even for her to fathom such a thing. More than anything in the world Leah wanted to make this ranch a success, and if the good Lord willed it, live here until she died. She’d even had daydreams of marrying one day and working the ranch with her husband, unless he owned a neighboring ranch and they combined their spreads. But to walk away from the land and move to town? That didn’t make sense at all.

Buddy hobbled over and patted Steven on the back. “Good job, son. You shore didn’t act the greenhorn today.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t sir me, boy. I’ve told you often enough, it’s plain Buddy. Nothing fancy.” He dipped his head once in Leah’s direction. “I think I’ll go see if Millie’s got some food ready, and if she’s done baking those molasses cookies. If you don’t dawdle too long, I might even save one for the both of you.” He winked at her, then limped toward the house.

Steven’s lips twitched in an attractive smile. “He’s a good man. I’ve had a few talks with him, and his faith in God runs deep.”

Leah nodded. “So does Millie’s.” She beckoned toward the house. “I’m pretty hungry. Maybe we should head to the house. And by the way, I agree with you. Buddy and Millie have both been a godsend to me ever since Ma …”

She nibbled at her lip. “Sorry. You were starting to tell me why you hated your farm so much.”

Steven stiffened and met her eyes. “I didn’t say I hated it. I just—”

Rusty rose from where he’d been lying and growled, then bolted forward and barked, his hackles rising.

Leah took two long strides and laid a firm hand on the dog’s neck. “What’s wrong, boy?” She looked up the lane. A man toting a canvas bag on his shoulder walked slowly toward the house, his head twisting from right to left, as though trying to take in everything at once. Something about him seemed vaguely familiar. The way he walked or the tilt of his head?

He moved closer, and Rusty’s growl deepened. The man looked young. His clothing was dirty but not torn or unkempt, and his hair needed a trim. The stubble on his face and the hat brim pulled over his eyes kept her from getting a good look at his face.

He stopped a few yards away and dropped the bag at his feet, then straightened and smiled. “Are you going to stand there staring, or are you going to tell your brother hello?”

Rusty’s stance relaxed, and his head dropped.

Leah stared at the man and then glanced at Steven. Her breathing slowed, and she swayed. Steven took a step closer. “Leah? Do you know this man?”

She swung her gaze to him and, after several long seconds, nodded. “I think so. I mean, I recognize his voice, but I’m not sure …”

Leah pivoted once more to the stranger. “Tom?” She passed her hand over her face. “It’s been so many years. I can hardly believe …” She choked on the last word, then took a tentative step forward. “Is it really you? Pa will be so happy to see you.”

Rusty pressed against her leg, and his tail started to thump.

The young man lurched toward her, then stopped, the color in his face fading. “I couldn’t stay here anymore—not with him here.” He jerked his head toward the house. A scowl tightened his features. “I had to get away.”

Six years since she last saw her brother, and he’d finally returned. He’d been good looking as a youngster, but now he was downright handsome, or he would be but for the scowl and the need of a bath and a shave. But Tom was different. The old, easy smile she remembered from their childhood had been replaced with a glower.

Yet, in spite of his expression, joy bubbled inside, and she held out her arms. “Come here and give me a hug. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

He turned his face away and gestured toward Steven. “Who’s this guy? He your beau or your husband?”

Leah slowly lowered her arms to her side, wondering at her younger brother’s tone. She shook her head, the braid swinging against her back. He seemed anything but happy to see her, so why had he returned?

Tom had rejected her welcome and turned away. Her lower lip trembled as pain knifed her heart. What could have happened to change him so much? They’d had spats when they were young as all siblings did, but he’d never been intentionally mean.

She collected her thoughts and mustered a smile. “I’m sorry. This is Steven Harding, and he’s helping out around the ranch.” She pressed her lips together, wondering if she should say more. But why should she? Tom wasn’t owed any explanations, especially with his attitude. She looked at Steven. “This is my younger brother, Tom Pape.”

Steven held out his hand. “Glad to meet you, Tom. So you’re back for a visit? I’m sure your pa will be happy to see you.”

The scowl deepened, and his arm stayed next to his side. “I doubt that. I wouldn’t have come back now if it wasn’t for Ma.”

Tom hated what he was doing, but there was no help for it. He had to make his sister understand. Leah wasn’t even Pa’s real daughter, but all their life she’d stood up for the man—made excuses for him no matter how ornery he’d been. Tom couldn’t tolerate that happening again. It was one of the reasons he’d run away and hadn’t wanted to return.

What would happen if he gave in and hugged her? Let Leah know he’d missed her and wanted to come home? He’d never admit it to a soul, but he’d cried himself to sleep for a number of nights after leaving the ranch—and not once because he missed his father.

But Leah wouldn’t believe him. He steeled his emotions and kept his elbows tight against his body. His sister always sided with their pa, and Ma loved Leah the best. Not a one of them put him first, and he’d never been able to set that thought aside. It rankled and grew like a thornbush watered by a spring rain and warmed by the sun.

If it was the last thing he did, he’d open Leah’s eyes to the truth and prove that he mattered. That’s all he’d ever wanted—to be as important to someone as Leah had been to Ma and Pa. But it was too late for Ma, and he didn’t care about Pa. That only left Leah. He shook his head, trying to sort through the dizzying thoughts. Leah took all Ma’s love, even if she hadn’t meant to. The fact still stood, and he couldn’t forgive her for that.

Steven narrowed his eyes. There was something going on here that he didn’t understand. Leah’s brother had seemed happy to see her at first, but the conversation had taken a decided turn as soon as Charlie’s name came up. Very little had been said about this brother since Steven’s arrival on the ranch, but if the animosity he saw in the man’s face was an indication, the reason for his departure six years ago wasn’t a pretty one.

“Tom!” Leah placed her fingers over her lips. “Pa has missed you something fierce since you left. And Steven is right. He’ll be so happy you’re home, especially now that he’s laid up with a broken arm.”

“I bet he will. Probably about as much as he missed Ma.” Tom’s top lip rose in a sneer. “The only time he was glad to have me around was when he needed an extra set of hands to do his work.”