Ginny Aiken (27 page)

“Chickens,” whispered Suzannah. Before Letty could warn her about the sharp beaks, the little girl trotted to the box and peered over the side. She watched the scuffle, not moving a muscle, not missing a move.

Knowing the child had only ventured from her mother’s bedroom for meals, Letty let Suzannah watch the birds. She made sure, though, that a fat oatmeal cookie found its way into her hand, and when that vanished, a tin cup of milk took its place.

Then a young rooster pecked a beakful of feathers from the other. The injured fellow flew the makeshift coop and knocked the milk from Suzannah’s hand.

“No,” she cried.

The assaulted bird skittered over the polished wood floor, seeking escape. Its claw caught on the braided rug in front of the cookstove, and the poor creature lost its balance. It flapped its wings and flew a couple of feet, landing at Steven’s side.

“Hey!” he yelled, frightened to find the rooster’s beak so close to susceptible body parts. He backed away and knocked over a chair.

Pandemonium broke loose. The other rooster flew from the box and chased its brother. The hens started clucking loudly, Suzannah crept to a corner and curled up into a tiny ball, and Amelia shoved a fist into her mouth. Willy began to cough.

Letty began to fret. She had nowhere to put the children. Her bedroom scarcely held her bed, small chest, and washstand. The parlor was a waiting room and the former dining room a medical clinic. She had to find more space for her five youngsters. An ample yard would be handy, since she also had five unhappy feathered friends, and a coop wouldn’t hurt, either. As she enumerated her needs, an idea came to her, and she grinned. She knew just the person and the place for the children and the birds.

“Into the buggy,” she cried over the commotion. Only Steven heard. He ran down the hall as fast as his short legs would go, flung open the door, and flew into the buggy. It was just as well she’d never gotten around to bringing anything inside. The children would need their belongings, what few they had, at Eric’s ranch.

Letty called again. Hugging Willy, Caroline grabbed Suzannah’s arm and dragged her outside. Amelia cast worried looks at the fowl but followed without comment.

Once the chickens had settled a bit, Letty scooped them up and tied their legs. She’d learned to handle the creatures. Quirking her lips in a rueful smile, she thought back on the day she hadn’t been able to catch a chick with a strainer. Yet today she’d
subdued two roosters and three hens and secured their lethal legs in no time.

Progress indeed.

She put the birds back in their box. “Caroline, please set Willy down for a moment. I need you, Steven, Amelia, and Suzannah to help me tie this box to the back of the buggy.”

Letty and her youthful crew lifted the box onto the running board, where she anchored it to metal supports with a length of hemp rope. Chore completed, she climbed into the vehicle, gathered her charges, and headed toward the inevitable confrontation with Eric.

She hated arguing with him, especially because after the way they last parted, everything pertaining to him hurt. Her feelings, those intense sensations he’d brought to life, were too bruised to even contemplate, and she’d fought to avoid thinking of them. Still, each time she thought of him, a stab of longing pierced her.

She still couldn’t face those emotions, not the shattering ones or the lovely ones. Not yet. Not until her patched-up heart grew strong enough not to tear again.

The buggy’s passengers remained silent—all but the fowl. Nothing disturbed the oddly tranquil afternoon in a world where ugly things happened. Letty couldn’t make herself bring up Slosh’s death to the children, not in a buggy, and so the only other sound was that of Prince’s hooves marking out a soothing, dirt-muffled clip-clop.

At Eric’s ranch, she stopped the horse by the barn. “Andy!” she called, then warned the children to stay put while she fetched help.

“I’m in the barn, Doc.”

“I’ve a few additions to Eric’s livestock,” she said with more confidence than she felt.

Andy eyed her warily as he came outside.

“Don’t worry. It’s only five chickens. They shouldn’t be much trouble.”

He snorted. “Chickens is always trouble, don’t you know?”

Letty blushed. “I guess I do. Imagine them in my kitchen, if you will. Then you’ll know why I brought them here.”

He snickered. “Let’s get ’em in the coop, then, Doc. Where are they? In the buggy?”

“No, in the crate at the back. I tied their legs so we could move them safely.”

Admiration lit Andy’s grin. “Good thinkin’, Doc.”

“Why, thank you.” At least one male at the Wagner spread approved of her. “Now, I have to see your boss, but there are five children in the buggy, and one of them is ill. Could you please keep them in the kitchen so that I can confront Eric?”

Andy gaped. He stared at Letty, not a sound breaching his thin lips. Then he shrugged, nodded, and followed her to the buggy.

They ushered the youngsters to the kitchen at the back of the house, where Letty made them comfortable. She straightened her back, squared her shoulders, and, for good measure, hoisted her chin up in the air. “I’ll return shortly.” As a precaution, and as a delaying device, she added, “Please behave well for me.”

Oh, honestly, Letitia, get on with it. What could be worse than having the man break your heart? He’s already done that.
She went upstairs to the lion’s other den and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Eric muttered.

He didn’t sound too happy. She stepped inside and saw that he’d been writing. “Hello, Eric.”

He looked up from the paper before him, and his rich brown gaze seemed to touch every corner of her heart. Her pain mixed with anger, and just as she turned to seek the privacy to tend to her wounds, she saw him shake himself.

“Hello, Le—Dr. Morgan,” he said, his voice raspy.

Over her shoulder, she stared at him a moment, noting the
red on his cheeks, the embarrassment in his gaze. She couldn’t help but wonder . . . had his perusal been involuntary? Could she affect him as strongly as he affected her?

Before she could voice a greeting, Eric spoke. “I expected you, although not quite so soon.”

“How could you have known I’d come?”

“I sent the message with Ford.”

“Message? What message?”

He pushed himself higher on the pillows at his back. “Why, that your fine stitching should be removed.”

“He never said a word. After today’s events, I imagine he simply forgot. I didn’t come to remove stitches.”

Eric narrowed his gaze. “Why did you come?”

Letty spoke around the lump in her throat. “The Pattersons.”

“What about the Pattersons?”

“It’s Slosh. He . . . he’s dead.”

Eric went paper white. He clenched his fists and closed his eyes. He set his jaw, looked square at her, and said, “Their land . . . ?”

“The Swartleys bought it. Slosh used the money to celebrate his windfall, fell off a horse, and broke his skull and neck. Ford came to fetch me, but all I could do was call the undertaker.”

A muscle leapt above the bony ridge of his jaw. Still, she had to confess all she’d done. “I had him bill you for his services.”

“You did what?”

Attempting a nonchalance she’d never felt around him, Letty sauntered to the window. Outside, approaching dusk tinted the mountainous horizon a shade of dark rose. Streaks of purple climbed up the sky to become a rich violet, then faded into twilight blue. So much beauty out there, and such ugliness, too.

“Letty . . .” Eric’s voice approached a growl.

She whirled and pointed at him. “Each time I tried to take care of the Patterson children, you fought me and said they were too much for me. Well, Mr. Wagner, this time, it’s all too much
for me. Who else should I hold responsible? You did want to take the burden from weak little me, didn’t you?”

Letty’s anger slapped Eric. The sting of her palm might have been preferable; it wouldn’t have hurt as much as her words.

“Fine.” He tried to control his temper, knowing she’d had to deal with the tragedy, and it couldn’t have been an easy matter.

She nodded, and her chin ended up higher than where it had started. “I’m heartily thankful you feel that way, Mr. Wagner. You see, since I can’t shoulder the entire ‘burden,’ I brought it with me. The children are in your kitchen.”

Eric’s head spun. How neatly she’d turned his concern for her into another bone of contention. “The children are downstairs?”

“I just said so.” The gleam in her eyes made them look like pools of silver. “They’re here to stay, since they no longer have a home. And that’s not all. Seeing how you so kindly express concern for my well-being, not to mention my inability to bear my many burdens, I’ve come to agree with you on another matter.”

Eric felt the promise of hope. Had she finally seen reason and decided to stay away from the harlots?

Pulling her shawl closer to her, Letty went on. “I now believe I have one liability too many. So I brought it for you as well. You’re now the proud owner of five healthy chickens. Good day, sir.”

Later that evening, Melvin Harrison removed the last knot from the healing scar. Eric groused throughout the ordeal.

“Neat job she did here,” Dr. Harrison said. “You should regain full use of the muscle soon.”

Eric swore.

“She did a neat job on
me,
” he muttered. “She brought the Pattersons here and threw in her five chickens as a bonus. How am I supposed to take care of them, run a newspaper, and look after the ranch?”

Dr. Harrison patted Eric’s shoulder. “You’ve never shirked your duties, son. Sure, and you’ll manage nicely.”

“I can’t even bungle along yet, never mind manage nicely.”

“You won’t lack assistance,” the doctor said, mischief in his eyes. “Hartville’s unmarried ladies will be lining up to offer help.”

Eric winced at the humor in the doctor’s words. Blast and bother! The last thing he needed was more women taking on the cares of the world. No, sir. One was more than enough for him.

“You’re right,” he said, “I’ll manage. I don’t know how, but I will.”

Dr. Harrison soon left. Since Mrs. Sauder had prepared supper after she’d cleaned house, Eric didn’t worry about feeding the Pattersons. He called Caroline and gave her instructions.

A short time later, she surprised him with her efficiency. “I fetched yore supper, Mr. Wagner.”

He ate heartily, glad the children would have full bellies tonight. No matter how he tried, he simply couldn’t comprehend Slosh’s neglect. And for what? Cheap liquor and empty pleasure with a strumpet. The trade scarcely bore consideration.

At least the children hadn’t been forced to witness their father’s debauchery. Slosh’s death had detonated a barrage of images Eric would rather forget, and he was glad the children had been spared.

After all these years, he still saw his father in the arms of the prostitute. Why he’d had to find them, he’d never know. He was, however, thankful his mother never saw that sight.

Father and son came to blows, and hours after the fight, Eric found his father dead by his own hand. The man had betrayed his wife for years, but the thought of public shame drove him to suicide.

Although it seemed cruel, he was glad Slosh would no longer affect the children. Perhaps they would soon find someone to
love them. He couldn’t have them run wild on the ranch, and with his leg still on the mend, he could only hobble around. Mrs. Sauder might know someone equal to the task of herding them safely.

The next morning brought a challenge all its own. Since he now had five charges, Eric figured he should spend his day near them. When Andy came for his daily instructions, the ranch hand helped him to the settee. Only then did Eric feel equal to coping with the children.

Soon Steven discovered the joys of sliding across polished wood floors, and each time he whooshed through the front room, the furniture stood in mortal danger. It turned out that Amelia loved fire; nothing he said budged her from the hearth, where she ignited log after log with long matchsticks. The temperature in the room soon rivaled his irritation with a certain too-smart doctor.

Although too young to add to the activity, baby Willy heightened the commotion. His cries worried Eric, and he had to accept that the child needed more medical care.

Mrs. Sauder couldn’t find Suzannah. When he asked Caroline about her youngest sister, she shrugged. “She’s sumwhere, but I ain’t seen her.”

Bound to the settee by a sliced thigh and a punctured artery, Eric felt helpless. After another minute of mayhem, he roared. “That’s it! I give up. Caroline, fetch Andy. Now!”

Tossing Willy’s dingy blanket around him, Caroline hoisted the baby onto her hip, and before Eric could ask for him, she ran out the door.

A few minutes later Andy huffed in, scarcely taking time to scrape off his muddy boots. “Here I am. What can I do for you?”

“Get that woman back here!”

“Woman?”

Eric ran thumb and forefinger over his mustache. He hated feeling
helpless; he hated being obvious even more. “Oh, go fetch Dr. Morgan. I won’t shake her, even though it’s what I’d like to do.” As an afterthought, he added, “How are her chickens, anyway?”