The Cactus Creek Challenge (16 page)

They arrived at the Pym abode, and Ben opened the rickety front gate. Cassie’s skirts swished, and the smell of roses wrapped around him again. The twins were right, she did smell good. And dress pretty. And though she had a quick temper, she sure didn’t stay mad for long.

“What are you two up to this fine evening?” Mrs. Pym greeted them from a rocker on her front porch. “You sparkin’?”

Cassie gasped, and Ben rolled his eyes at the old lady.

“Now, don’t be like that, Mrs. Pym. You’ll embarrass Cassie. We brought you some food from Mrs. Bucknell. She thought you could use a little help, what with your back bothering you and all.” What a silly notion, him sparkin’ Cassie Bucknell. That would be like kissing his sister. Not that he had a sister, but if he did, she’d be just like Cassie Bucknell.

“And well I could use the help. My back’s been achin’ something awful, and it’s a sure sign something terrible is going to happen. Last time it hurt this bad, the weather brewed up a tornado. You remember that?”

Cassie slipped inside with the basket and returned quickly.

Before the old lady could trap them into a discussion of her aches and pains and their prophesying abilities, Ben tipped his hat. “I’d best be getting Cassie home, Mrs. Pym. She’s got a big week ahead of her, and so do I.” He took Cassie by the elbow and all but propelled her down the walkway. “Good night, ma’am. Hope you enjoy the food.” He hustled Cassie through the gate and away from the house.

“Sorry about that,” he said as soon as he was out of earshot.

“Don’t be. You saved us from a lengthy and tedious discussion.” She let out a little laugh that made his chest suddenly feel lighter. She looped the empty basket handle over her arm and raised her hands to her forehead, smoothing her red hair, now a deep auburn in the dusk.

“No, I mean the part about her asking if we were sparkin’. I hope she didn’t embarrass you.”

“Why would that embarrass me?” She turned a direct gaze upon him. Faint starlight glittered in her eyes, and several of her freckles stood out against her pale skin. Her lips were parted slightly, and bless him if he didn’t smell her rose perfume again. He wished the twins had never mentioned it. Surely that was the only reason he was noticing at all.

“I don’t know. I guess because we aren’t courting. Because it’s such a silly idea.”

She blinked and a little line formed between her brows. “A silly idea.” She swallowed, and the lace collar at her throat bobbed. “You think it is a silly idea for someone to court me?”

He backed up a step. “No, of course not, not in a couple of years when you’re old enough. I’m sure your daddy will be guarding the gate then.”

Her hands went to her hips. “In a couple of years? Do you even know how old I am?”

He did a mental gallop. “I went to your last birthday party. You turned sixteen.” There. Pride that he’d remembered broadened his grin.

“You went to the last birthday party I had here in Cactus Creek. I’ll have you know I’ve had three birthdays since then, all of them in Philadelphia while I was at school, and I’m coming up on another one in a couple of months. I’m almost twenty years old, and that’s more than old enough to be courted right now.”

Almost twenty? The notion slammed through his brain. Impossible. Why, he was twenty-four, and little Cassie Bucknell had been a full four grades behind him in school … uh-oh.

He rubbed his palms against his thighs. “I guess the time got a little away from me. The fellows around here must be slacking then if nobody’s come courtin’ yet. When they do, you let me know, and I’ll check ’em out for you. After all, you’re like a little sister to me, and I want to make sure whoever marries you is up to snuff.”

The
thwack
of the basket hitting the side of his head stunned him.

“Ben Wilder, you’re an idiot.” Cassie picked up her skirts and marched away from him toward her house, leaving him standing in the road looking after her, and by sugar if he didn’t spy the glisten of tears in her eyes before she turned away.

He rubbed his temple. “Now what did I say?”

Jenny thanked her hosts and turned to find Amanda so they could head home. The dinner had been pleasant—except for the cake—though she was weary of parrying questions from Dick Grabel for his newspaper.

“She’s over here.” Carl’s voice rumbled softly.

Amanda lay curled up in the corner of the porch swing, her head pillowed on her arms, eyes closed.

“Poor thing is tuckered out.” He leaned against a post and crossed his arms.

Jenny studied her little girl. “Or playing ’possum.” She ran her finger down Amanda’s cheek and under her chin, eliciting a giggle and a squirm.

“Time to go, punkin. You have school in the morning.”

Amanda pushed herself up, yawning and setting the swing wobbling with her movement.

“How about if I carry you? It’s a long way on tired legs.” Carl straightened and held out his hands.

Jenny held her breath, pressing her lips together. It had to be Amanda’s decision, but she hoped the little girl wouldn’t hurt Carl by refusing.

Amanda studied him, so serious, too serious for such a little girl. Finally, she nodded and let her legs swing over the side.

Gently, as if aware of the gift he’d been awarded, Carl lifted Amanda and perched her on one strong forearm. He offered the other to Jenny. “It would be my pleasure to see you both home.”

With the same sense of foreboding, Jenny hesitated before taking his arm. Cassie’s teasing about them making a nice couple flitted through her mind, but she knew she’d never retrace that path, no matter who the gentleman was. And besides, she was getting well ahead of herself. Carl Gustafson had never given any indication that he had or ever would have any feelings for her.

Still, his muscles under her palm reminded her of the powerful draft horses she curried every day. Strength to burn and practically oblivious to it because they didn’t know any different. How often had she wished she were bigger, stronger—strong enough to protect herself from her husband, to protect Amanda? And her husband had been a slight, nasty man, not a giant like Carl.

A cool breeze kicked up, and she shivered. “I forgot my shawl at the stable. It’s hanging on a peg in the tack room.”

“We can swing by there and get it. I want to check on that mare before I turn in anyway.” He glanced down at Amanda. “You remember that pony I told you about?”

A bob of the head.

“She was looking kinda broody when I saw her this afternoon. Might be ready to drop that foal anytime now.”

Amanda whispered something Jenny didn’t catch.

Carl smiled. “Copper it is, then. That’s a fine name for her.”

Jenny gaped. Not only was Amanda allowing Carl to carry her home, but she’d actually spoken to him.

He eased Amanda to the ground when they reached the livery, digging in his pocket for his keys and opening the padlock. With a lot less effort than it took Jenny, he rolled aside the huge doors.

The familiar smells of horse and hay and dust wrapped around her. It was startling how much she felt at home here after only a week. Carl lit a lantern, and Jenny took Amanda’s hand and bent to speak to her.

“You need to stay by me. No running or jumping or making noise, all right? The horses are all tucked into bed, and we don’t want to startle them.”

Carl unlocked the tack room and held the lantern high so she could retrieve her shawl; then he helped her settle it around her shoulders.

“Let’s check on Copper then.” Without waiting for permission, he wrapped his arm around Amanda’s waist and lifted her up so she could see over the half door into the pony’s stall. “Here, put your toes on this slat.” He positioned her so she could perch on the gate, her arms resting along the top spar, and stood at her back so she couldn’t slip off.

Jenny joined them. The shaggy pony came to Amanda and nosed her, whiffling her breath along the girl’s arm. Amanda giggled and reached out to straighten the flyaway forelock.

“Round as a tick, ain’t she?” Carl scratched the mare’s ears.

Copper stamped her hind foot and swung her head around toward her side. Her flanks tightened in the lantern light, and she stretched her neck. Then she relaxed and nosed Amanda again.

“Aha. Looks like I was right. She’s showing signs of foaling tonight.” Carl set Amanda down and opened the stall door. Hanging the lantern high on a hook, he ran his hand along the pony’s mane and down her neck and side.

“Perhaps we should go then.” Jenny took Amanda’s hand, but her daughter shook her head.

“Can’t we stay? I want to see the baby.”

“Oh, honey, we can see the baby tomorrow. We don’t want to be in the way here. Mamas like privacy when they’re having babies.”

Carl caught Jenny’s eye. “Wouldn’t hurt none if you stayed. In fact, I think it would be a good thing. Miss Amanda has already said she’ll help me with the baby, and if she’s going to be in charge of it, she might as well see it born.” Carl eyed the mare. “It won’t be long, if I’m any judge, before the baby gets here.”

He came out of the stall and closed the gate, leaving the lantern behind. “Mares usually make a pretty fair job of foaling without too much interference, so we’ll just wait here and watch. I didn’t ask the man I got her from if this was her first foal, so we’ll stand ready to help, but Copper will take care of most of it on her own.” He lifted Amanda back up where she could see, bending to put his head on a level with hers.

To Jenny’s surprise, he reached out and put his hand on the small of her back, drawing her alongside Amanda. “It’s a beautiful thing, watching the birth of a new life.” He stood behind them, close enough she could feel the heat from his skin.

Copper lowered herself to the straw, then got up and paced. Every now and again, she stood spraddle-legged, her neck stretched out, and her sides pumping like bellows.

“Why does she do that?” Amanda looked over her shoulder at Carl.

He slid a glance at Jenny, who nodded that she would explain. “Having a baby is hard work. Her muscles are pushing to get the baby out.”

In an hour, it was over. Carl wrapped Amanda in a canvas apron to protect her dress and opened the stall door to lead her inside. On the straw, a dark brown, slick-haired, long-legged foal lay, eyes unfocused and sides rising and falling in jerky little breaths.

“Let me see how Mama reacts before you get too close, all right? Some mamas are very protective of their babies.” He stood between Amanda and the foal as Copper scrambled to her feet. The cord joining the baby to its mother broke, separating them.

Jenny’s eyes burned with the beauty of it all as Copper nudged the foal, licking it and whickering in a way Jenny would have sworn was pride at her accomplishment. The mare let Carl touch the foal, his big hand cupping the top of the baby’s head. With a quick swipe, he made sure the foal’s mouth was clear of any mucus; then he squatted and held out his hand to Amanda.

“Come here, darlin’. Sit right here.” He patted the straw, and when Amanda sat down and crossed her legs under the canvas apron, he lifted the foal and draped the baby across her lap. “My dad used to do this with all his horses. He said if you knew you were going to raise and train a horse from birth, you should hold it and touch it and kinda put your mark all over it as soon as it’s born. He said if you do that, then a special bond forms between you and the horse that can never be broken.”

Amanda’s eyes glowed, and her cheeks flushed as she cradled the baby in her thin arms. “Am I going to raise and train this baby?”

“You sure are. There’s no way I can do it. I’m too busy, and even if I wasn’t, I’m too big to ride a pony. I’m thinking you should have Copper and this little one, too, for your very own. You’re just the right size, and you’ve got the time and the gentle ways this pair needs. You two go on and take a little time to get acquainted.” He pushed himself up and came out of the stall. The mare continued to nose and lick the foal in Amanda’s lap, including Amanda in her nuzzling and drawing giggles.

Jenny drew Carl farther into the aisle. “Mr. Gustafson, I wish you would’ve conferred with me before gifting Amanda with two horses.” She knotted her fingers at her waist.

“What?”

“We have no place to keep animals, and we cannot afford to rent space or buy food or equipment.” She kept her voice low, but his high-handed manner in just announcing that Amanda could have the horses scraped her unhealed wounds. “Now I’m going to have to be the one to tell her she can’t have them.”

Carl rubbed the back of his neck under his long hair and shrugged. “It won’t be a problem. Just keep them here.”

“I told you, I can’t afford that. The bakery is adequate for our needs at the moment, but I don’t have enough left over to cover the expense of livestock.”

“You don’t have to spend money. I’ll keep them here for nothing. They don’t eat that much. You’re overreacting. Look at her. This is the most relaxed I’ve seen that little girl since you came to town. Most of the time she’s walking on eggshells so thin it’s like she’s afraid to breathe. She’s laughing and talking and enjoying herself now. Don’t be so stern with her. You keep such a tight hold, she hardly has room to be a kid. All kids need something little and newborn to love. Don’t take that away from her.”