A Love of Her Own (9 page)

Pete pushed the lock of hair out of his eyes and bobbed his curly head. “Right away, sir. I’ll be right back with two waters and take your order.” He sped back to the kitchen.

April laughed softly. “You must eat here often, if you know the waiter by name.”

“It’s usually where I have lunch before seeing patients in the afternoon.” His eyes were soft and warm as he stared back at her. “Take a look at the menu, April. I highly recommend the roast beef sandwich.”

“I’m tired of beef. I think I’ll take the chicken and dumplings!”

“Does that mean you eat a lot of beef?” Mark asked as he opened up his napkin.

April did likewise, smoothing the napkin over her dress. “I guess so. On a cattle ranch, it’s the most common staple served.”

“Josh told me that your dad raises quite a number of cattle. Do you help out, or do you just enjoy being a cattle baron’s daughter? From what I’ve seen of you in the last few days, I’d say it was the former.” He chuckled.

“And you would be correct, sir. I can’t imagine being indoors all the time, tending house and children. I don’t mind getting dirty, and I enjoy being with horses. I pretty much grew up on horseback. My daddy used to tease that Mama had me while on the back of a horse!”

Mark laughed and remarked, “Then I would say that’s why you had the skills to take off on your own out there in unfamiliar territory after the stage broke down.”

April watched as the waiter returned and filled their glasses with water. “I had to be here for Josh’s wedding.” She turned to the waiter. “I’ll have the chicken and dumplings, and make certain they are hot!”

“We wouldn’t serve them any other way,” Pete said, eyeing her warily.

“Well . . . just make sure you’re as good as your word.” Her solemn tone held no hint of good humor, especially when she caught him looking at her wrinkled dress.

“I’ll have the roast beef sandwich, Pete,” Mark said, handing him the menus. “It’s the best.”

“Right you are, sir.” Pete winked and shoved his pencil behind his ear, then slipped away.

“So, tell me about the wedding. Was Josh nervous?” April saw Mark’s eyes sweep over her crumpled dress. “And do you normally wear your evening gowns to breakfast?”

April laughed heartily. “Actually, no. I’m not comfortable in this type of dress for very long.” She paused and reached up to scratch where the edge of lace met her collarbone. “I’m normally in jeans or a split skirt. It’s all that I brought with me when I left the stagecoach.” She caught his raised eyebrows.
Let him think what he likes.
She didn’t have much choice
.
Her riding gear was filthy. “As soon as I eat, I’ll go collect my bags from the depot.”

“Mmm . . . I see.” He leveled a look at her. “But you didn’t answer my question—how was my friend? Nervous?”

April hooted. “If he was nervous, he didn’t show it.”

“He married a very nice lady.” Mark glanced away momentarily.

Did she detect a bit of regret in Mark’s voice? “I guess so. I haven’t had a chance to get to know her, really, but it’s apparent he’s smitten with her. She seems very young.”

“She’s not
that
young. Innocence always makes someone look younger. She’s had a hard life for one so young and recently lost her mother. But I think she’s a determined young lady.”

“Maybe you can tell me what you know about her. Is she from Montana?”

“I believe she’s been here awhile, but that’s all I know.” Mark’s eyes narrowed in thought. “So, April, tell me a little about your father’s ranch.”

April had no problem talking about her home or her father’s success. She told him about the cattle her father raised, her participation on the ranch, and how she’d learned everything firsthand by trailing her father around. Mark seemed to enjoy listening to her talk.

The waiter appeared and placed their lunch on the table and slipped away. April picked up her spoon and dug into the bowl of dumplings. Before long, she turned sideways in her chair, motioning for the waiter. When he sauntered over, her lips drew into a tight line and she said, “I thought I told you to make certain the dish was hot!” She shoved the bowl toward him. “Take this back to the kitchen and heat it up. You must have allowed it to be dipped up awhile before bringing it to me.”

With a slight bow, Pete lifted the bowl and felt it. “But it is warm, madam.”

April nearly rose from her seat but instead crouched forward. “Are you arguing with me, young man? There is no steam coming from this bowl of dumplings!” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mark pause with his sandwich nearly to his mouth, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Pete backed away with the bowl, stuttering, “I’ll see that it’s reheated.” He started toward the kitchen, shaking his head.

“You bet you will.” April turned and waved her hand at Mark. “Don’t wait on me. Please go ahead and eat. I don’t know whatever happened to good help!” Her mouth watered at the size of his thick roast beef sandwich, and her stomach growled loudly. She hoped Mark hadn’t heard its noise.

“I can wait. I’m sure he’s really busy. There’s quite a lunch crowd today,” he said rather sharply. He looked around and waved to the table across the room, and April turned to see the lady with the crippled girl she remembered from the wedding. The lady beamed back at him.

“Who is that?” April asked just as Pete returned with her bowl of dumplings. This time there was steam rising that could be seen with the naked eye as he plunked it down in front of her. April ignored the fact that he stood waiting to see if it was to her satisfaction, and she continued to eat as if he wasn’t there.

Mark nodded his thanks, so Pete went on to another waiting table to replenish their drinks.

“That’s Cynthia Hood and her daughter Jane. Jane was hit by a speeding carriage this winter and hasn’t regained the use of her legs. But as her doctor, I’m not sure why. I can find no medical reason whatsoever. I’m beginning to think this is all psychological.” He chewed his sandwich with a thoughtful look.

Even though she had sat across from Mark on the stagecoach, she was struck afresh with his dark good looks and easy way of talking. He had nice hands and fingers that picked up his food with certain gentleness. Almost as if it were someone’s heart he was tending to. She dragged her eyes away.

“Mmm . . . interesting. But what would cause that?” April was now enjoying her bowl of dumplings and felt like licking her lips.

“I’m sure I have no idea. I just started to get to know Cynthia a little after the accident. She’s a widow now.”

Ah, so the wealthy doctor must have his eye on the little blushing
widow. Why else would he be gazing at her and her crippled child
when I’m sitting directly across from him?

“Jane is a very beautiful young girl,” April commented, looking again at the young woman with large hazel eyes and blonde hair. “Perhaps she needs something to take her mind off her situation.” April patted her lips with her napkin.

“Do you have an idea?”

April’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Hmm, I just may,” she said, polishing off the last bite of her lunch.

“I’ll be glad to introduce you to Cynthia and Jane after lunch.”

April scooted her chair back. “Maybe another time. I’ve got to go now.” She pretended to look in her handbag for money, stalling for time.

Mark stood. “You’re leaving? I’ll take care of the lunch,” he said as she rose and picked up her cape.

She closed her handbag. “Oh, thank you, Dr. Barnum. I hope I’ll see you around town.” She pressed the sleeve of his arm with her hand and gave him her sweetest smile.

He tilted his head toward her. “I’m sure you will. If there’s anything I can do for you before Josh returns, please let me know.”

“I certainly will. Thanks.”

Stepping out into the brilliant sunshine, April squinted, wishing she had worn a cowboy hat. Then she thought how ridiculous it would have looked with her fancy yellow dress.
I could get some
attention fast that way.
She laughed to herself.

She made her way toward the depot, her tummy full, feeling satisfied that she’d just had lunch with a well-to-do doctor. April intended to make certain that he would want to see more of her while she was here. She’d keep an eye on Cynthia just in case Mark had more than just a friendship with her. She couldn’t let that happen as long as she was in Montana, or she wouldn’t have a ready escort. It couldn’t hurt to be seen around town with a prominent member of Lewistown either. No reason not to have some fun away from home while in this boring mining town.

6

Morgan jumped down from the stagecoach seat and directed Leon to get the horses unharnessed while he headed inside the depot office. He was glad that he had the rest of the week free before the next scheduled departure on Thursday. He’d been going for two weeks now with no respite. He intended to make the most of his time off. Although he loved his job because he met interesting people along the stage run stops, it was time to rest up in his own bed tucked away above the depot, perhaps visit a few friends, and maybe catch a church service. His soul needed it.

The stiffness in his hips reminded him that he was getting older, and sooner or later he’d be forced to cut back on the long hours of driving the stagecoach anyway. His rheumatism would see to that. He made a mental note to ask Miss Margaret if she used any tonic for her aches and pains. Maybe he’d see her at church or run into her around town. Could be soon that he’d just work behind the scenes and run the stage operations. Not a bad idea at all.

He couldn’t help but notice out of the corner of his eye that a trunk was sitting off in the edge of the clearing underneath the towering ponderosa pines. He paused, placing his hands on his hips. Now what in tarnation was it doing over there? Did one of his passengers forget to pick up their luggage last night?

He strode through the door and walked up to the ticket counter where Will was counting the day’s receipts. Will paused and glanced up, looking through the grilled window.

“Well, howdy, Morgan!”

Morgan nodded. “Whose luggage is piled out there under the trees?”

“A lady by the name of April McBride. Don’t know why she hadn’t come for it, but we had a skunk problem out back yesterdee, and her trunk may have picked up some of the odor, so I drug it off a ways, until she can come and have it hauled off.”

“Ah . . . yes, April.” Morgan took a deep breath. “She’s not gonna be too happy about this.”

“We had to smoke the place to get rid of the smell in the yard. You should’ve been here yesterday. It stunk something awful outside.” “I’m glad that I wasn’t, Will. ’Course, I can’t say that it smells all that great now,” Morgan teased. Walking over to the stove, he lifted the coffeepot lid with a dubious sniff at the day-old coffee. “I’m gonna make us some fresh coffee. You interested?”

Will closed the cash drawer. “Nope! Soon as I’m finished here, I’m heading to the bank with this deposit. I don’t like having that much cash on hand. You want to check it, Boss?”

Morgan shook his head. “I trust you, Will. You know that.”

Will left, and Morgan filled the pot with coffee and placed it on the potbellied stove. Leon trudged in and plopped down into the rickety wooden chair by the front door, removing his hat. “I could shore use a cup of that coffee, pardner,” he said, wiping his brow with his handkerchief. He yanked his boots off, wiggled his toes, and exhaled. “Ahh . . .”

“Doggone it, Leon!” Morgan walked over and poked him in the shoulder. “Put your boots back on, or the office will need fumigatin’ again.”

“There ya go again, telling me my feet stink,” Leon sputtered. “I can’t smell a thing.”

“That’s just my point! You can’t smell it!”

Leon laughed heartily. “Okay, okay. I get the point. After that coffee, I’m goin’ in search of a good hot bath.” He snapped his boots back on as fast as he’d pulled them off.

“Makes perfect sense to me—” Morgan stopped short at the sound of footsteps on the porch. “Oh no . . . here comes trouble, Leon,” he whispered right before April swung the door wide open. Her honey-gold cheeks were stained red with irritation.

Even with the annoyed look on her face, Morgan thought she looked pretty, but like a spoiled, unpleasant child. It was hard to overlook the sunlight that touched April’s hair, and it appeared as fine as the spun silk of an angel’s wings, but not quite—he knew better. And he knew that she wasn’t a child. She looked a little the worse for wear in what appeared to be a party dress.
A little too early for that
, he surmised. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Leon gape.

“Mr. Kincaid! Where in the world is my trunk?” She sashayed in like she owned the entire worn-out depot. “I was told that it was left on the porch here until I could have it transported.”

Leon jumped to his feet, his hat in his hand, nearly toppling the wooden chair. Morgan threw his eyes heavenward.
Lord, I
need me a huge dose of Your patience right now.
He meandered toward her.

“Miss McBride. Nice to see you again,” Morgan said, ignoring the question for the time being, which only irritated her more. “How about a cup of coffee? Just brewed up a fresh pot myself.”

April blinked at him and tapped her toe again on the floorboard. “I’m not here to have tête-à-tête. I came to get my trunk.”

Leon shifted on one hip as he watched Morgan take his time stirring sugar in his tin cup. Morgan took a sip before looking April squarely in her narrowing eyes.

“Will dragged it to the edge of the woods. He said there was a skunk around and he was afraid your trunk might have been affected.”

“What?” April expelled a breath of exasperation. “How can that be? Was mine the only one? Sounds pretty suspicious to me.” She tossed her head angrily.

Morgan briefly closed his eyes then snapped them open. “Yours was the only trunk that wasn’t picked up when I left the depot late last night. With all due respect, ma’am, I don’t think anyone knew where you wuz staying.” Morgan shook his head. “No one is to blame.”

April stalked out the door, then said over her shoulder, “Well then, someone should have at the very least gone to enough trouble to find me! How ridiculous!” She grabbed her dress in her hands and tripped down the porch steps with Leon pounding down the steps behind her.