Birdie's Nest (7 page)

With her decision made, she felt better—could even smile. Heck, she might even dance a jig if she could get out of this bed. She swung her legs toward the side and managed to push herself up into a sitting position.

Finally on her feet, she peeked out the door to make sure the hall was empty before rushing down to the bathroom. She was not about to use the chamber pot beneath the bed. The big claw foot tub was similar to the one at the hospital and soaking last night had been heavenly. She quickly washed her teeth using the brush and tooth powder they’d picked up yesterday. While brushing she held the can up and scanned the label. It read, “Dr. Lyon’s Perfect Tooth Powder, An Elegant Toilet Luxury.” Though not her favorite way of cleaning her teeth, it was better than a frayed twig, and worked quite well.

Dressed in a riding skirt and one of her new blouses, she stared at herself in the mirror. What could she do with her hair, and what did the people in this time period think about her up lights and low lights? Her beautician had talked her into adding the red, something new to Birdie and she had to admit, she liked them. With the brush Olivia had purchased for her yesterday, she brushed the long tresses, creating as much order as possible. She could pin it back with the hairpins lying on the glass vanity tray, but it would take practice to create something suitable. They weren't like the bobby pins she was used to. With a shrug, she left her room to head downstairs.

She entered the kitchen to find Olivia and the woman she’d called Maybelle last night, bustling around cooking breakfast. “Can I help?”

Olivia smiled. “My goodness, Birdie, after your exhausting day, I didn’t think you’d be up this early.” Last night they’d gotten around to dispensing with formal names. Possibly because Bethany refused to call her Miss Braxton, plus it wasn’t a moniker Birdie was that familiar with. Now, if someone said Sergeant Braxton, she’d tune in instantly. But that wasn’t going to happen, here anyway.

“I’m always up this early, unless I’m sick and Aunt Patty makes me stay in bed.” Her heart twisted, but she shook the emotion away. She had to move on.

Olivia patted her arm in sympathy. “I’m sorry, dear. Somehow we’ll find your family.” She handed Birdie a stack of plates. “You can set the table.”

A large family table graced the kitchen. Birdie did as asked, adding the cloth napkins and silverware Olivia lay on the table.

“Maybelle, will you go upstairs and make sure Bethany is up and getting dressed?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll start making beds while I’m up there.”

“Thank you. When you’re finished, let’s start snapping those black eyes. I’d like to have them for dinner tonight.”

Black eye peas—Birdie’s mouth watered at the thought. They were hard to come by at home unless you had a garden or could afford to buy them at a produce stand. Usually they were already shelled and bagged, making the price outrageous.

Olivia handed Birdie bowls and platters to place on the table. Soon it was loaded with fried eggs, biscuits, bacon, sausage, and cream gravy. No sooner had they finished than the back door opened, and Tad Lockhart strode in. Dressed in denims, cotton long-sleeved shirt, dusty boots and battered hat, he stopped short at seeing her. He smiled, the expression eliciting a thump for her heart, removed his hat and hung it on a rack by the door.

“Miss Braxton. I’m glad Mother talked you into joining us.”

She returned his smile. “It’s Birdie. And it’s not like I had a number of people vying for a house guest.”

His grin deepened the wrinkles around his eyes, his tan highlighting their blueness. Hard to miss, he was a darn good-looking man, his engaging smile definitely woman-killer quality. She didn’t intend to become a notch on his gun belt. Oops, he wasn’t wearing a belt—worse yet a notch on his bedpost. “Well, folks didn’t have much of a chance to get to know you like we did.”

She shrugged. “I plan to pay you all back for my room and board and all these clothes your mother bought me.”

He held her chair. “I’m sure you will. Now, sit and let’s eat. I’m starved.”

Birdie sat. She wasn’t used to anyone holding her chair. She might get used to this gentlemanly stuff. Olivia smiled down at her plate. Now, what the heck was that about? Before she could ponder the situation further, the swing door from the hallway whooshed open, and Bethany waltzed into the room dressed in her dungarees.

Olivia’s eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth to speak but Tad beat her to it. “What in thunderation do you have on, young lady?”

She shot her chin out and sent him a smirk. “They are britches, of course. Mother bought them for me yesterday.” She smiled at Birdie. “Birdie got a pair, and I’ve wanted a pair for ages, but I know I’m not supposed to wear them in mixed company.”

His eyes narrowed, as he looked her up and down. “And what do you call me?”

Bethany strode to his end of the table, slid her arms around his neck and placed a kiss on his cheek. “My wonderful brother.”

He threw up his hands. “Mother, I hope this doesn’t backfire. I’d sure hate to have to run off any of the hands. They’re all good workers.” He shot his sister a glare. “And I assure you, miss, if I ever catch you prancing around in those in front of any of the men, I’ll marry you off to one and see how you like being a ranch hand’s wife.”

Bethany’s eyes rounded in horror. “Mother…”

“He’s trying to rile you, honey.” Olivia pointed a finger at the girl and used it to emphasize her words. “But you take heed of what he said. If you wear those in front of any man other than your brother, I’ll burn them.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tad rubbed his hands together. “Now that’s settled, can we eat? I’m starving and we’re burning day light.”

Olivia lifted the platter of meat and handed it to Birdie. She took one piece of bacon and one of sausage before passing it to Tad. He raked half of what was left onto his plate and passed it along. He studied Birdie as he chewed. “You mentioned a job. Do you have any idea what you might like to do?” He grinned. “I bet Mother could help you find a husband to take care of you.” When her mouth dropped open, he laughed out loud.

She snorted. “I don’t need a man to take care of me.”

“Don’t you want to get married, have babies?” Bethany asked.

“Sure, someday when the right man comes along.”

“How old are you anyway? Aren’t you kind of old not to be married?”

“Bethany!” chided Olivia. “That is rude.”

Birdie chuckled. “I don’t mind. I’m thirty-three. Not so ancient in my time not to be married. As a matter of fact, many women don’t have their first child until they’re in their forties.”

“Never met the right man, huh?” Tad shoveled the last bite of breakfast in his mouth and chewed while waiting for her answer.

“Nope. Oh, there were several I considered marrying, but I just couldn’t see spending the rest of my life with them. I’d probably be bored to tears.”

Tad nodded as if he understood.

Olivia smiled. “I understand perfectly, dear. My late husband was my one and only love, and there was never a dull moment throughout our marriage.” She patted Birdie’s hand. “You mentioned your time, Birdie. What year exactly are you referring to?”

“2012.”

Olivia coughed into her napkin and Bethany giggled, but Tad remained silent and studied her intently. She remained still under his perusal. “Will you tell us all about it tonight after dinner?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” He stood and leaned down to kiss his mother on top of the head. “I’ll try to be back before dinner.” He turned to Bethany. “Remember what I said about those dungarees.” Before she could answer, he’d turned and was out the door. It slammed in finality leaving an uncomfortable silence in its wake.

Bethany glanced up at Birdie and then spoke to her mother. “What about Birdie and her britches?”

“She’s a grown woman. I don’t have control over her like I do you.”

Birdie didn’t miss the unspoken message. “I’ll be circumspect, Olivia.”

* * *

Tad leaned back, satisfied. “Great meal, Maybelle, especially the peas.” The older woman had cooked for their family for close to thirty years. She’d sneaked him cookies when he’d been a boy. No doubt his parents were aware of the subterfuge and didn’t mind. Nothing escaped their notice around the ranch.

She lifted his dessert dish and beamed down at him. “Thank you, Mr. Tad. I do like to see a man eat a healthy meal.”

Mr. Tad.
She’d called him that from the day she came into their home. “Has Alice gone home?”

“Of course she has. She never stays later than four.”

Good. He didn’t want the young woman who helped Mother and Maybelle with the house to hear tonight’s discussion.

Maybelle continued removing dishes. “Y’all want more coffee?”

Tad rose. “No, but thank you. We’ll be in the parlor.” He stopped. “Maybelle, we can count on you to keep anything you learn about Birdie to yourself, can’t we?”

She tucked her chin toward her ample breast and huffed. “Have you ever known me to spout tales about this family?”

He kissed her cheek. “No, never. But, you may hear some real odd things from her, things hard to believe.”

She stalked off to the kitchen mumbling under her breath. He caught words like “fool boy” and “outlandish indeed.” He grinned and hurried to catch up with the women.

He settled in a wingback chair. Birdie, quite attractive in a blue serge dress with white piping, sat on the sofa beside his mother, Bethany on the floor at her feet. “Whenever you’re ready, Birdie.”

Her chest rose as she took a deep breath. “Well, I’ve already told you I’m from the future, from 2012. In my time period, I work as a Texas Ranger.” He’d explained to his mother about the Texas star, but not Bethany.

Bethany’s eyes rounded and she clapped a hand over her mouth. He expected her to emit a “woo” any minute. She squealed. “Really? A woman ranger?”

“Yes, but now that I’m in 1890 I’ll never be able to serve. Wilbur King visited me yesterday morning and wouldn’t let me have my star back.” She perked up. “But, he promised if I could outshoot him, he’d return it.”

Startled, Tad sputtered. “The adjutant general of Texas?”

“Yes. I recognized him from the picture hanging in the Texas Ranger Museum.”

Tad would be talking to Detective Ethan as soon as the opportunity arose, to get answers. Of course, with someone having a ranger star, especially a woman, the general would either send someone or come himself to investigate. Due to budget cuts, their numbers had been reduced, so it made sense for King to come himself rather than pull a man from the field.

Mother shook her head. “I can’t imagine a woman riding with those roughneck men. Chasing Indians and riffraff of all kinds. It’s… it’s....” She threw up her hands and shook her head.

“Olivia, the ranger organization in the future is entirely different. Though we work in the field a lot, much of what we do is detective work. Most of my day is spent in an office.”

“Well, thank the Lord,” Mother muttered as she set her paddle fan in motion.

Tad studied his sister, worried that she’d take Birdie’s story to heart and be disappointed when the truth came out. He still didn't believe she was from the future. Breathless with excitement, Bethany asked. “What’s it like in the future?”

“We have automobiles that will travel over one hundred miles per hour, we’ve put men on the moon, and have kitchen appliances that cook food…” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that.”

“And the food tastes good?” asked Mother.

Birdie shrugged. “Not when cooked in a microwave, but it does when cooked in a gas or electric oven. You’ll see the invention of electric ranges in your lifetime, Olivia.” She leaned over and wrapped one of Bethany’s curls around her finger, pulled and released. It sprang back into a corkscrew. “Bethany, you’ll see electric curling irons and hair dryers.”

“You mean you don’t have to heat them over a fire?”

“Nope.”

Tad watched the women as he listened. Mother was reserving judgment, but he knew she wanted to ask questions. Like him, she couldn’t believe in machines flying in the air and certainly not in space. Heck, they’d never get him in one, that’s for sure. Everything she said seemed right out of one of those Jules Verne novels he’d read in his youth. They needed some proof. He didn’t necessarily believe Birdie was lying on purpose. Evidently she believed every word she said.

“Men on the moon, huh?” He tried but couldn’t keep a straight face.

Birdie’s eyes narrowed. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s true.”

“I know you believe every word you’re saying, but we can’t accept that you actually traveled back in time. Time travel isn’t possible. If it was, people would be popping back and forth all the time.”
And surely they’d know about it, wouldn’t they?

“How do you know they don’t?”

Bethany piped up. “Yeah, Tad.”

“I don’t, but I think if it happened we’d know at least one person who’d traveled forward or back.”

Birdie grinned. “Well, now you do.”

“Look Birdie, I don’t think you are crazy. I feel you believe what you are saying. But for me to believe you are from the future I’m going to need more than your word and a silver star with 2010 on it.”

* * *

Morning found Birdie at a loss of what to do with herself. She’d helped Maybelle wash dishes, one of Birdie’s least favorite chores, and now joined Bethany at the barn, located about a mile from the house, to collect a horse to ride.

Tad appeared before she had a chance and gave the wrangler on hand strict orders. “Saddle old Molly. She’s as gentle as a baby and don’t let Miss Braxton out of your sight. She recently suffered a head wound and a throw might kill her.”

“Sure thing, boss.” The young cowboy winked at her as Tad stalked off. “Actually, miss, Molly isn’t that old, and she’s a good ride.” He doffed his hat. “I’m Thomas.”

“Nice to meet you, Thomas. Call me Birdie.

Bethany led a good-looking chestnut mare, already saddled, from a stall. She stopped beside her. “Molly’s a sweetheart, Birdie. I used to ride her all the time until Tad bought Blondie for me.”

Blondie? What a modern name for this time period, but the animal did have a beautiful blond mane and tail. “Molly will be fine.” To be honest, Birdie wasn’t that experienced a rider so gentle was good. Old was good, too, as she wanted to take this relatively new experience slow. They were leading the horses from the barn when Detective Ethan and Mr. King rode into the yard. Both looked comfortable in the saddle. She supposed the buggy they’d arrived at the hospital in was for town transportation only. They dismounted and approached. Tad must have seen them coming up the road as he rode in not far behind them. He sat his horse like a natural, the epitome of what Birdie supposed a real cowboy should look. She snorted. What did she know about them anyway?