Before the Larkspur Blooms (13 page)

Between horse grooming and stall cleaning, the day passed quickly. Before Thom knew it, it was time to go home. He wiped his hands and face the best he could. He’d wondered all day why Mrs. Miller would want to speak with him, and he was about to find out. He closed up shop, saddled his horse, and started down the quiet street. At the mercantile, he looped his reins around the hitching rail and went inside.

“There you are,” Maude said, swooping out of the back room. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten.”

He doffed his hat and remained in the entry.

He was at a loss. It had been years since he’d had to make polite conversation with anyone, never mind the fact that she was an older woman he hardly knew. “Er, we enjoyed the fudge you sent out. We both would like to thank you again for that.”

“Both?” She waved him off. “That was nothing. A little welcome home gift—
for you
.”

Welcome home?
He glanced away, and a tiny portion of his rejected heart warmed up.

“Mr. Donovan, I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

His curiosity multiplied with each tick of the big grandfather clock in the back of the store. “Thom’s fine, ma’am. Just call me Thom.”

“Fine,” she said as she came closer. “I’ll get right to the point. Once the rainy season sets in, this place is no better than my kitchen colander with rivulets running this way and that. My inventory gets damp and moldy. If I don’t have enough receptacles to catch all the drips, I have to borrow from Hannah at the restaurant, then spend the rest of the day running to and fro dumping them out.” She paused and took a breath. “I’m so exhausted by closing time I can hardly fall into bed. Then I worry the whole night long.”

She peered up at him through her scant lashes, a small smile playing around her lips. Was she batting her eyelashes? “If you haven’t already noticed, Thomas, I’m a mature woman.”

“Ma’am?”

She seemed to be measuring her thoughts. “Well, the sheriff said you have quite a lot of experience with carpentry. What I’m leading up to is this—would you be willing to put a new roof on my store? For pay, of course.”

He’d done his share of carpentry in prison. He was good. Reflex made him rub his palms together. “I appreciate the offer, Mrs. Miller, but I’m not sure I’d have the time to do it with my job at the livery.” Carpentry paid so much better than the work he was doing now. He hated to turn it down.

“Yes, I realize that. I thought you could work for me in your spare time, perhaps. All the shingles you’d need are in my back room. I have a small rental house on Oak Street that is also due for a new roof. I’d pay you ten dollars for the mercantile and five for the house.”

He had no idea why she’d hire him over anyone else. “That’s a lot of money, Mrs. Miller.”

She ran her wrinkled hands down her apron. “That it is, young man. Are you saying you don’t want the job?”

He was silent for a moment. “I don’t know how fast I can have it finished for you, but I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I’m asking. Just start when you can.”

Again, thankfulness mixed with a large dose of humility rumbled around in his chest. He nodded and replaced his hat. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” He turned and reached for the porcelain doorknob.

“Wait. I almost forgot.” She hurried over to the mail counter and took a tattered envelope from a covey of small boxes fixed to the wall.

Returning, she held it out to him. “All the way from the bonny green hills of Ireland. It arrived yesterday.”

She was trying so hard to make up for the fray that had happened in the street on his way into work today. “Thank you for this.” He put the letter into his front pocket and gave it a pat. “I better get going.”

H
annah held tight to the reins as the buggy jiggled down the road. She did her best to avoid the ruts caused from the winter runoff, but that proved nearly impossible. Markus, worn out from the morning he’d spent playing with Sarah out at Chase and Jessie’s ranch, snuggled next to her side. His flushed face and his half-mast eyes said he’d soon be sound asleep.

She tried not to think about Thom, but that was as difficult as avoiding the ruts. Two days had come and gone without exchanging a word. She’d wanted to talk to him after that horrible fight Saturday, but the look on his face told her to keep her distance. She missed him. She missed his smile and his voice. She missed how she felt when he walked into the room. She missed the way he looked deep into her eyes, even when he didn’t mean to. Warmth coiled around inside, stealing her breath.

A sharp bump in the road brought her out of her musings.
What am I doing?
Thom had made his position perfectly clear. A burst of pain pushed away the warm feeling as she remembered him standing in her kitchen, arms crossed and eyes flinty. The fact that he’d known all along that she was sweet on him made the rejection all the worse.
I’m done with him
, she thought. Dwight popped into her mind, and she grunted.
As a matter of fact, I’m finished with men in general.

Agitated, she straightened in her seat. “Look, Markus,” she said, nudging him. She pointed to the rolling meadow halved by
the narrow but fast-flowing Shady Creek. A doe and two fawns stood knee-deep in the wild grass, watching their approach.

“A mommy deer,” he said in awe. “And two babies.”

The doe bobbed her head twice before bounding for the cover of trees, followed by her speckle-backed twins.

She patted his leg. “It’s such a pretty day. They must be enjoying it as much as we are.”

He nodded agreement, and her good mood returned. She loved Mondays. It was the day Susanna and Hannah’s mother minded the restaurant and she had the entire day with Markus.

“Did you and Sarah have fun? After you ran up to her room, I never saw you again. What were you two doing for all that time?”

Sarah, two years older, liked playing the role of big sister. “We played with her dolls until I stuck one in her pa’s boot and made her cry. Then she wrote numbers and letters and I had to guess.” He slapped his hand on his thigh in an expression of exasperation, the way she’d seen Dwight do many times before. “
Then
she taught me how to make a braid.” His face squished in disgust.

Hannah couldn’t contain her smile. “Oh, my. She did, did she?”

As he nodded, one of his brows launched into a sharp peak. “Yep. Want me to show you?” He reached up and took a chunk of her hair in his hand, climbing to one knee.

“
Markus.
Sit down before you fall.” Grasping his elbow, she settled him back on the seat. “The buggy is no place for shenanigans. You know that,” she said more softly and kissed the top of his head.
This little guy can find trouble anywhere.
“Well, did you have any fun at all?”

He shrugged as he let go a long-suffering sigh. “I guess. I wanted to go out to the corral and see the horses. Or find Jake or Gabe.” His tone was heavy.

As much as I hate to admit it, Mother is right. Markus needs more male companionship.
Last night’s dinner with Dwight had been tolerable. Markus seemed to like him. They’d talked for quite a while about fishing and what kind of bait to use. Was that what
she should be focusing on—someone who’d make a good father for Markus, regardless of her own feelings?

Entering Logan Meadows proper, the gelding trotted smartly across the short bridge that crossed over Shady Creek and Hannah guided him left, onto Oak Street, on their way to Brenna Lane’s house. She had a basket filled with food from the restaurant and fixings Jessie had sent along. Her friend was so blessed with the life she had, her husband…

Life with Thom?
A small smile tickled her lips.
What would that be like?
The rhythm of the horses’ hooves and the warmth of the summer air drew Hannah back to her daydreaming. She imagined him coming home after a long day of work. Pulling her into his arms first thing and kissing her until she dissolved into a pool of desire. Working around the kitchen, bumping elbows. Lying in front of a crackling fire as the snow outside piled high. She’d known him as her childhood crush, her adolescent first love—even if her feelings
weren’t
returned—and now in adulthood,
her friend
? Is that what he was to her?
No!
It would never be enough, she realized. She wanted Thom as her man.

She sighed and gave herself a shake. Daydreaming wouldn’t change Thom’s mind.

Brenna’s was the last home on the street before it turned and connected with the road that led into Logan Meadows. As Hannah drew near, the rhythmic pounding noise of someone at work reverberated above the spinning wheels of the buggy. She glanced about, looking for the source. Then she saw him. If she hadn’t had such a firm grip on the reins, they might have dropped from her hands.

Directly across the street from her destination, someone—a large, formidable, and
very handsome
someone—was hammering away on top of Maude Miller’s tiny rental house.

Jessie set her clean, carefully folded camisole on top of her shawl, trying desperately to ignore the two letters tucked out of sight at the bottom of the drawer. What was she going to do? She wanted to tell Chase but feared he’d want to take this on like everything else he did—directly. That would mean contacting Mrs. Hobbs. Jessie was not ready to take that step yet. “Stay still,” she said gently over her shoulder to Shane. She’d set him on the bed for the moment to free up her hands. As she slid the drawer closed, voices on the front porch of the ranch house drew her attention. Collecting Shane, she hurried through the kitchen to the front room, not wanting whoever it was to wake Sarah. Totally worn out from her play day with Markus, Sarah had finally agreed to lie down for a few minutes. That was a half hour ago. Opening the heavy pine door, she found Chase, Gabe, and their ranch hand, Blake, in an intense conversation.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as she stepped out. Patches the cat darted out and leaped onto the porch rail just as Jessie closed the door. “Has something happened?” Shane brightened at seeing his father, and a smile stretched across his face.

Chase greeted her with a slight nod. His smile looked strained as he gently tousled Shane’s hair. “Rustlers. They get bolder by the week. A month ago it was Jeb Swanson’s place, then the Triple T in New Meringue. Last night they got us.”

Jessie stayed her reaction. Rustlers not only stole cattle; they injured or killed anyone who got in their way. “How bad?”

Chase paced to the porch rail and slammed his open palm against the support post, a hiss escaping through his teeth. When he turned back to face her, his expression was dark. “Eighteen head. Not so bad, but over time…”

“They’ll bleed us dry like a nail-poked snake,” Gabe drawled. “What can we do? We’re not going to just sit around and take it, are we?”

Chase shook his head slowly. “No, we’re not. We’ve worked too hard just to hand it over to rustlers. But with so many new
faces showing up in Logan Meadows because of the railroad, it won’t be easy to smoke them out.”

Lines of strain showed around the corners of Chase’s eyes, and he’d yet to shave. His soft-as-whipped-butter chaps rippled when he shifted his weight from one hip to the other. If anyone could catch the rustlers, it was Chase.

“Used to be,” he went on, calmer now, more resigned, “we more or less knew everyone in town. We knew if someone was sick, birthing a baby, or spoiling for a fight. Now, not so much.”

Blake looked between the men. “What do you want me to do, boss?”

“Double the night shifts.”

Blake gave a long whistle. “The men are already pulling extended hours.” He plucked the toothpick that dangled between his teeth and tossed it into the flower bed. “They ain’t going to like it.”

Jessie averted her eyes, but not before she noticed Chase stiffen.

“They’ll like it less if they’re out of a job.” He looked pointedly at Gabe, who nodded his agreement.

Shane wriggled in Jessie’s arms, and she bounced him up and down to calm him.

“And tell every man to keep a sharper eye,” Chase said. “If things get any worse, we’ll have to hire on a few more hands.” He glanced down to the bunkhouse. “Where’s Jake? I haven’t seen him all day.”