Before the Larkspur Blooms (4 page)

“Oh, I’m sure it would, honey. I don’t doubt that for a second. And to tell you the truth, I’d hate to find out.” He pulled back and put his nose in the air. “I smell something good. What’s cooking?”

She smacked him on the chest. “Is that all you ever think about, Chase Logan, what you’ll be eating for your next meal?”

He tented his brows. The look he gave her said she was his next meal.

Instantly, her insides warmed. She couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. She turned and preceded him into the kitchen, where Sarah still worked at the table.

Chase hooked his hat on one of the brass wall pegs, then started for Sarah. Before he reached the table, she turned and lifted up the slate she’d been working on. “Look, Pa. I finished the whole alphabet.”

He took the slate from her hands and studied every letter. “You sure did, pumpkin. And you did a mighty fine job.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. Sarah’s smile revealed a missing front tooth. There wasn’t a man in the world who could love the child more than he did.

“Where’re Gabe and Jake?” Jessie asked as Chase got comfortable at the table. “I thought they were coming here for lunch.” With thick cotton mitts, she opened the heavy oven door and
extracted a plate heaped full of shepherd’s pie. Steam wafted up when she set it in front of Chase.

“Actually, no. They went into town, said they wanted to see if there was any new Union Pacific news. I think Jake just wanted to get another moment with Hannah. That boy’s acting like a lovesick pup.”

Jessie shook her head. “I hope not. I don’t think she feels anything more for him than friendship. Not only that, Mrs. Brown doesn’t think any man is good enough to wipe her daughter’s boots, let alone marry her now that Caleb has passed on.” Her spine stiffened at the thought of going up against Hannah’s mother for any reason. “I’d hate for Jake to get hurt.”

“It’s bound to happen sooner or later. Part of growing up.”

She poured a tall glass of fresh water and put it on the table beside Chase’s meal. “I know. Still, I think he harbors a lot of pain inside that he doesn’t share. I just wish both he and Gabe would find nice young women to settle with.”

Chase swallowed and then wiped his mouth with his napkin. “They’re young yet, sweetheart. Give ’em some time to sow a few wild oats.”

“Chase!” She glanced at Sarah, who was still playing with her chalk and slate. When he didn’t seem to catch her meaning or pointed look, she aimed the biscuit she was holding and threw it playfully at his head. He snatched it out of the air before it hit him.

He smiled and took an exaggerated bite. “It’s true,” he went on, not missing a beat. “Why, I found Jake in the saloon the other day talking with Daisy and Philomena.”

“You did?” Sadness for the two young women who worked at the Bright Nugget surfaced. She had once faced the possibility of saloon work. Thank goodness Nathan had taken pity all those years ago and married her. Whoring was a bad business—for the girls and for the men who used them. “That worries me, considering the life he left behind in Valley Springs and all he suffered before he moved to Logan Meadows with us. I know his mother
had a hard life, but she treated him very badly. I witnessed her screaming from the saloon balcony, half-dressed, calling him every sort of horrible name as he walked down the street. If it weren’t for Mrs. Hollyhock…” She stopped and pulled herself together. “Why do you think he was in the saloon?”

Chase swallowed. “It’s obvious—and surely not a crime. He wanted to talk to some pretty girls. Don’t worry so much, Jessie. It’s part of life, and you can’t change it—as much as I know you’d like to.”

“I hope he doesn’t take to drinking and gambling.”

Chase took another bite and said while he chewed, “I never said anything about drinking and gambling.” He tossed Jessie a look that said he had everything under control and for her to butt out.

A loud knock at the front door reverberated to the kitchen, followed by a cry from Shane’s room.

“Oh, no. He won’t go back to sleep now.”

“I’ll see who it is,” Chase said as he wiped his mouth and stood.

While he went to the door, Jessie hurried to the baby’s room. Two-year-old Shane sat in his pinewood crib rubbing his watery eyes. His soft light-brown hair, sprinkled with Jessie’s golden highlights, curled over his forehead and down his neck, moist from his nap. His bottom lip protruded unhappily. When he saw her, he lifted his arms, then released a smile identical to his father’s. Jessie laughed and picked him up, patting his back. “Come on, you little charmer,” she said, heading toward the kitchen.

Chase was back in his seat finishing his meal. “Who was it?” Jessie asked. She sat, and Chase leaned forward to rub the baby’s head.

“One of the hands. Wanted to tell me the new heifers have settled in fine with our herd and that he’s going into town after he eats. Talk of the railroad has everyone keyed up.”

Shane gurgled and looked around happily. “It’s exciting that the train might actually come to Logan Meadows,” Jessie said. “It was only last year that we got a daily stage coming through, and now this.” She kissed Shane’s cheek and bounced him on her knee.
But it will put us so much closer to New Mexico, too. And Mrs. Hobbs. And whoever that person is who’s looking for Sarah.
“Do you think it will actually happen?”

Chase chuckled. “It will if Frank Lloyd has anything to say about it. He’s dreaming about all the money the newcomers will be depositing into his bank. Plus, he’s making loans right and left to business owners fixing up their places in hopes the Union Pacific will pick Logan Meadows.”

“What if the railroad decides in favor of New Meringue instead of Logan Meadows?” Jessie sat forward and brushed a few wisps of hair from Sarah’s face, not wanting her to feel left out. The child had stopped playing when the conversation had taken on a more serious tone, and she was listening to every word. “Everyone will be so disappointed. I love our small town, Chase. Logan Meadows is the place our children will grow up and raise families of their own. Just doesn’t feel right that the railroad is pitting us into competition with our neighbors. One thing is for sure…one of us is going to lose.”

Chase pushed his plate away and sat back, a sated grin on his face. “But—one town is going to win. I’m in favor of the railroad and all the life it’s brought to our town already. The demand for our beef and horses has doubled in the last three months and has been a boon for this ranch. New immigrants could double or even triple that number. And, let’s not forget, our hefty investment on the herd we’ve contracted for next year
depends
on Logan Meadows winning.”

Jessie nodded. “I know, I know—I’m not complaining. I hope it comes, too.” But did she? It was getting harder by the day to pretend nothing was worrying her. As it was, Logan Meadows was cocooned away from the rest of the world. If this all turned out to
be Mrs. Hobbs’s idea of a prank, Sarah’s real parents could still be out there looking for her, regretting their decision to give her away. Jessie forced herself to relax the frown pulling at her brows. She should be counting her many blessings and not looking for trouble behind every rock. “Well, I’m sure the meeting tomorrow will tell us more,” she said, purposely using a cheery tone.

At the excitement in Jessie’s voice, Sarah scooted over to Chase and climbed into his lap. She smoothed back his hair, a tender action she often did, then patted his shoulder. “I hope it comes, too, Pa,” she said. “I’ve never been on a train before. Gabe said he’d make sure I rode on the eggnog ride!”

Chase chuckled softly. “You mean the inaugural ride, sugarfoot?” He glanced at Jessie, an expression of love and amusement on his face. “Although eggnog sounds pretty darn good right about now.”

Sarah shivered with anticipation. “I’m going to take Patches with me. She’ll be the first cat to ride the train.”

Jessie gave Chase another knowing look. “See what I mean? Everyone is counting on the Union Pacific. Even little children!”

T
hom rode beside Sheriff Preston on the way from town to his family’s old farm. As he surveyed the land, awe at actually being there filled his soul. All those years locked behind grimy walls, crushed in with dirty, filthy men—himself one of them—washed away. He took a deep breath of fresh country air and held it. Such a simple thing and yet so dear. The feel of the saddle and motion of the horse fed his hopeful mood. “It was kind of your brother to lend me this horse,” he said, unable to pull his gaze away from the country he had missed so much. “He didn’t have to do it.”

A noisy cloud of sparrows raced from one tree to the next, following the men’s progress.

Sheriff Preston laughed. “Well, if it’s one thing Winthrop has a lot of, it’s horses. You’re most likely doing him a favor relieving a small portion of his responsibility.” He glanced over and smiled. “You’ll like working for Win. He’s a good man.”

The smell of the land was exactly as Thom remembered, as was the blueness of the sky. He’d missed the sky—and its sapphire shade that seemed to reach into eternity. All those hours staring up at the ceiling of his cell, he’d imagined he was right here, on this very road, going home.

They stopped on the crest overlooking the land that had once been the Donovan farm. The sheriff rested his palms, one on top of the other, on his saddle horn and stretched up to get a good look.

“There she is.”

It was hard for Thom to look. The farm, one of the finest pieces of land in all of the Wyoming Territory, sat dry and fallow. The front field, which had once produced an abundance of wheat, corn, and barley, was overrun in a blanket of weeds. The dirt blew on the breeze and seemed to cry out to him with a haunted voice, admonishing him for the poor treatment it had suffered. Thom knew its potential, and the sight rocked him to his core.

“I was the son that inherited the love of the land,” he said. “Roland and Anne Marie had no interest at all. They did only the chores they had to. Strange that I was the one to run off and leave it behind.” The house looked small now. Run-down. Lonely.

A dog barked. Thom watched as a German shepherd crawled from beneath the front porch and glanced about.

“Ivan! He’s still alive.” The desperate loneliness that had enveloped him since being released dissolved at the sight of his dog.

Ivan looked to the barn and then to the corral that held two horses, not yet catching the humans’ scent. He took the stairs stiffly, gave a halfhearted woof, then lay down on the porch.

“He’s old,” Thom said under his breath. He nudged his mount down the road.

This time, Ivan spotted them and began barking in earnest. His glossy black-and-tan coat was dull, and his muzzle sported white hair, like an old man’s beard.

“Ivan. Here, boy,” Thom called, dismounting. The dog tipped his head and his barking stopped. “Ivan, come.”

The dog hurried down the steps as best he could, and Thom met him halfway. Bending to one knee, he wrapped his arms around the old dog’s neck as Ivan whined happily, his warm tongue licking Thom’s face.

“Well, I’ll be. I think he remembers me,” Thom said, barely getting the words past the stiffness of his throat. He hugged Ivan close to his heart and then buried his face in the thick fur, wishing
it were possible to be transported back in time eight years and one day.

Time ticked by. Albert cleared his throat. “He wouldn’t leave the place when your mother passed on. Hannah tried to take him to her house in town so she could care for him, but he kept running away and coming back here. Soon after, the new owners moved in and they have been seeing to his needs.”

Thom nodded, the only response he could manage.

Ivan’s dark eyes gazed lovingly into his. It was good to know that someone was glad he was home; someone had missed him. He thought about his mother and father and Roland, buried in the graveyard. About Anne Marie, somewhere far up north. Tears prickled behind his eyes. Taking a firm hold of his emotions, he rocked back on his heels and stared across Ivan’s back in the direction of Hannah’s old farm. He assumed Hannah’s mother had sold it at some point, maybe when Hannah married Caleb, and they’d all moved into the house in town.