Newton (Prairie Grooms Book 9) (13 page)

Duncan chuckled. “Indeed I do.”

She giggled, served their soup and went back to the kitchen.

Duncan said a quick blessing, then picked up his spoon. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes, you were telling us about Arya’s … er …”

“Choice of husband,” Newton finished. “Which wasn’t really her choice.”

“Did you have a choice?” Duncan inquired.

Newton stared at his soup a moment. “Yes and no.”

Duncan and Cozette exchanged another glance before Duncan said, “Tell me about the ‘no’.”

N
ewton crawled into bed
, pulled Arya into his arms and sighed. How had Duncan Cooke managed to extract so much information from him? It was as if once he got started talking about his time with the Indians, things began to pour out of him – including things he’d told himself not to share lest people think he’d gone ‘round the bend.

But then, what did he know? Arya’s people were strange, even as far as Indians go, but he didn’t know enough about them to pass any sort of judgment as to how strange they were. They were definitely mysterious, that was for sure.

But Duncan didn’t seem too put off by his explanations of what had happened – how he’d been forced to wed, yet would’ve married Arya regardless. How he’d fallen hard for her in so short a time. How he would have stolen her away from her people if he’d had to … and did, come to think.

“I like the duchess,” Arya whispered.

Newton smiled, glad for a break from his thoughts. “I’m glad, darling. I think the two of you have a lot in common. I hope you enjoy your tea tomorrow.”

“I like her dress.”

Newton smiled. “You’re already like the women of my world.”

“But I like dresses of women of my people too. I like pretty things.”

He kissed her on the forehead. “I want to give you pretty things,” he whispered against her hair.

She sighed in contentment and snuggled closer. “What if I become friends with the duchess, then they leave? I will be sad.”

“Hmmm,” he said and closed his eyes. “Perhaps we can visit them in London one day, sweet. I’d love to show you my homeland. I think you’d like it.”

She didn’t answer. He listened to her breathing, which had become steady and slow. She’d fallen asleep. “Arya, my beautiful Arya. How I love you so …” he whispered. “I’d give you the world if I could. Give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

He swallowed hard. Big words. The question was, how was he going to fulfill them? He hadn’t any money, nor a position to acquire much. Dining with Their Graces had only thrown that into greater contrast. They were well-dressed and had the air of sophistication about them that comes with status and wealth. What was he compared to that? A stable hand at best, except that he hadn’t even begun work as one.

He’d best talk to the Cookes again, and Ryder. He had to figure how he would live and provide for his wife. Thank Heaven His Grace hadn’t asked him what he was doing for work – he was far too interested in Arya and how they came to be married. But what was he going to tell His Grace when he
did
ask?

Newton knew he shouldn’t be letting it bother him so much, but it did. What kind of man wanted to live off of the charity of others? When he’d given the last of his money to Amon and Nettie, he figured that soon he would be in Oregon City, working to make enough money to go exploring. But instead he’d ended up with a wife and no work to suit his skills.
The best laid schemes of mice and men often go askew …

He sighed once more and tried to fall asleep. He would just have to take whatever work he could find, even if it meant being separated from his wife a day or two a week. How else could he work for Ryder and at the Triple-C? Wouldn’t he make more money if he could swing both jobs? Or would working at the Triple-C full time be the best option? Then his father could help Ryder full-time …

“Good grief!” he gasped, and almost sat up. “Father!” Had anyone told Duncan Cooke about who Cutty really was? What might he do when he found out that the old drifter was really the notorious Thackary Holmes?

Newton threw an arm over his eyes and groaned. His father still hadn’t made amends with Penelope and August yet. He didn’t go into detail when he told Newton he needed to have a special “chat” with them, but he knew it must be serious. And now that Duncan was here, was he going to have to apologize to him as well? What would that do to his father? The poor man had been through enough the last few months, some of it at Newton’s hand. Literally – he’d struck the man in the face when he’d found out. What might the duke do – shoot him?

He’d best head out to Ryder’s place tomorrow and tell his father that Duncan was in town. Not that he didn’t know he was coming – every man, woman and child in Clear Creek did. But not everyone knew he was already here. How would his father react? He’d find out tomorrow.

Newton turned back to his side, pulled Arya close again and begged for sleep to come.

“
H
e’s here now
?!” Cutty sat down hard on a chair in his one-room house and gulped, then straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath. “I was going to have to face him eventually. Might as well be sooner than later. Besides, I may be many things, but I won’t be a coward.”

“I thought you’d want to know,” Newton said. “Arya and I had dinner with Their Graces last night. I believe he’s a reasonable man and … well, by the time you see him, he’ll already know about you.”

“How so?” Cutty asked warily.

“He’s heading out to the Triple-C today. I left at dawn to come here, so he’s probably there already.”

“Duncan Cooke,” Cutty mused. “I never thought I’d see him again. Come to think of it, I can’t quite remember when I saw him last.”

“Wouldn’t it have been the night his wife and the other women were kidnapped by the outlaws?”

“Yes, but … well, I guess it doesn’t matter. When he sees me, he’ll either be angry as a badger or as forgiving as his brothers.”

“Let’s hope it’s the latter, shall we?”

“Quite. How was Mrs. Cooke … I mean, Her Grace the duchess?”

“She seemed a bit tired. It was a long trip, after all …” Newton stopped and thought a moment. “Or was it something else?”

“Pardon?”

Newton shook his head, dismissing the notion. “Nothing.” He sat in the only other chair in the house. “Arya seems to like them.”

“I’m afraid your wife can hardly be counted as someone able to judge a stranger’s character. Who knows what a couple of years in London prancing around with the nobility – the other nobility, I should say – has done to them?”

“A valid point,” Newton conceded. “But either way, there’s no help for it. I would advise you to just be yourself. His brothers will have filled him in on everything that’s happened since he left Clear Creek, including your heroics. His Grace can’t fault you for those.”

“Yes, but will they outweigh everything else I’ve done? Including trying to kidnap his …” Cutty snapped his mouth shut.

“His what?” Newton asked as he leaned toward him.

Cutty began to fidget in his chair. “His wife,” he mumbled

Newton’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling. “I beg your pardon?”

“It’s not something a whole lot of people know. She does, of course … and whoever gave me that knock on the head at the time.”

“Excuse me?”

Cutty frowned. “Somebody pistol-whipped me. I know not whom, though I suspect it was one of the outlaws. I’ve never asked anyone for the particulars of that night, as it’s something I’d rather forget. But that won’t happen with His Grace in town.”

“It was Jefferson.”

Cutty’s head spun to Newton. “How would you know that?”

“You have to understand, Father – that happened over two years ago, almost three. Don’t you think Cozette has had ample opportunity to tell her side of the story to the Cookes?”

Cutty rubbed his eyes with a hand and sighed. “Right you are. I’m not thinking clearly about this.”

“Perhaps because you’re doing your best to forget about that stage of your life. And it’s working.”

Cutty nodded, his eyes misting. “I just want it behind me, son. Every time something happens to remind me of it, it’s like a knife twisting in my gut …”

Newton left his chair, bent down and gave his father a hug. “Give Their Graces the chance to forgive you, Father. You owe them that much.” He stood. “Not to mention that you still need to forgive yourself.”

“I … I thought I had.”

“No, you haven’t. If you truly had, you wouldn’t have such feelings when you think about what happened.”

Cutty looked up at him, jaw trembling. “But I … I tried to m-murder … Penelope …” He burst into tears.

Newton stood in shock. “Penelope?” came out a croak.

Cutty nodded as his body trembled, his voice so full of anguish it almost tore Newton’s heart out. “And it’s because of me Ryder almost died!”

“Ryder?!”

Cutty nodded, put a hand over his face and sobbed. “I’ve been an awful man, son … I’ve done so many things … how
can
I forgive myself?”

Newton stood stock-still and stared at the broken man sitting before him. “We all have, Father,” he whispered.

Cutty let his hand drop to his lap. “I tried to take a life, son! Do you know the only thing that kept me from succeeding was a bloody chicken!”

Newton sat, dumbfounded. “What?”

“You heard me! August’s rooster attacked me! That’s how I got these scars on my face!” He pointed at his left cheek.

“I thought those were from your time with the outlaws, after they took you? And from the fire?”

“The others are, but these –” He gestured to his left cheek again. “– are from that stupid rooster!”

“So Cousin Penelope was saved by … a chicken?”

“I’m amazed you haven’t heard the story before – it’s apparently a favorite of Penelope’s,” Cutty said bitterly. He pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket, wiped his eyes with it, then blew his nose. “I’m sorry for that. Didn’t mean to fall to pieces …”

“No, it’s quite all right. Things make more sense now.” Newton took his father’s hand. “But you can’t go on like this. The guilt will drive you mad.”

“No less than I deserve?”

“No, don’t think like that. You’re married now. You have your life in order. If the good Lord can forgive you, then why can’t you?”

Cutty shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“You haven’t spoken with Penelope yet, have you?”

“No.”

Newton slowly nodded. “Then you need to. Don’t you see, Father? You can be free of this once and for all. Seek their forgiveness. That will give you the strength to forgive yourself.”

Cutty’s lip trembled again. “Thank you, Newton. Thank you for not hating me.”

“I did once, a long time ago. But then, I had no idea who you were at the time. Mother never told us.”

“I know.” He sat back in his chair. “I guess there really is such a thing as a second chance. I thought I’d used mine up already, but … now it looks like I have more.”

Newton smiled tenderly at his father. “Then don’t waste them.”

Cutty nodded. “I won’t.”

“
A
re
you sure you don’t mind if we keep the wagon until tomorrow?” Duncan asked.

Chase Adams laughed. “Shucks, Mr. Cooke, you and I both know you aren’t going to be coming back into town today. Not after your family gets a hold of you.”

Duncan smiled. “Quite right, but I wanted to make sure you were okay with it.”

“You’ll hear no complaints from me even if it’s two days!”

“Thank you, Mr. Adams – I do appreciate it. By the way, how is my cousin Lena? I’ve not seen her for ages, since we were all very young.”

“She’s fine. She was real excited to learn of your arrival yesterday. I told her she might not get to see you until after you got settled in at the Triple-C.”

“Yes, thank you for that. I’m afraid Cozette and I have a lot to discuss with the family first. Well, wish me luck.”

“Luck?”

Duncan chuckled. “I’ve not driven a wagon for some time. I have a coachman now.”

Chase nodded, eyes wide. “That must be something, having a fella to drive you around all the time.”

“It has its moments,” Duncan said with a smile. “Now I really must be going. I want to catch my brothers as they come in for lunch.”

“I understand,” Chase said and shook Duncan’s hand. “Take all the time you need.”

Duncan nodded curtly, left the livery stable and went to the wagon Chase had prepared for him, a simple one-horse buckboard. He gazed at his wife a moment, then blew out a breath. “Shall we?”

“You are afraid you are out of practice?” she asked.

“No, it’s not that. You know why I’m nervous.”

Cozette wrapped her arm through his. “It has been a long time since we’ve seen them, Duncan. That is enough to be nervous about for now.”

Duncan turned to her and gently brushed a gloved finger against her cheek. “Thank you for reminding me.” He bent down and kissed her.

She smiled when he broke the kiss. “Why, Your Grace, you have kissed me in public,” she teased. “Such a scandal if anyone saw.”

“Around here I can bloody well do as I please,” he grumbled.

She grinned and nodded. “We had better go.”

Duncan glanced around. “Yes, before someone else delays us.” So far today he’d already met with Sheriff Hughes, the Dunnigans, the Mulligans, Cyrus, Seth and Eloise Jones, Sally Upton, Deputy Bran O’Hare – and that was just breakfast! Once they found out he was eating at the hotel, they came running, bombarding him with well wishes and the inevitable questions about his life in England.

He’d been vague in his answers, giving them only bits and pieces. He didn’t feel like talking about it – he would have to do enough of that when he got to the ranch. Thankfully, Cozette had come to his rescue with her tale of the time she’d thought to do a little target practice in the library, much to the house staff’s horror. Nothing quite like finding the duchess, bow and arrow in hand, using the late duke’s array of hunting trophies as targets. She’d stopped only when the head housekeeper, Mrs. Bloxom, fainted at the sight.

Duncan helped Cozette onto the wagon seat and together they headed out of town. They’d only been gone a little over two years, and everything looked the same. “Clear Creek is a lovely town, don’t you think?”

Cozette took off her bonnet, pulled her hair out of the chignon she’d put it in and shook it free. “Yes.”

“You’ve been waiting to do that, haven’t you?” he said with a smile.

“I want to ride, Duncan. I want to hunt. I … want to do all the things I cannot do in England.”

“I know you do, my dear. England’s social conventions have been hard on you, but you’ve taken them on like a true solider. I commend you.”