Cowboy to the Rescue (12 page)

Chapter Thirteen

S
usanna helped the other ladies pack the large picnic baskets with sandwiches, cold coffee and baked goods. After three days of sewing, she was eager for a change, especially one that would take her out of doors. Today Mrs. Northam insisted she must help Rosamond carry the noon meal out to the men working in the field. While she endeavored to ignore the older lady’s obvious matchmaking, she did look forward to seeing Nate. Having finished his work on the ballroom, he now worked with the men every day and took his breakfast in the bunkhouse. Susanna missed seeing him.

With their horses saddled and the packhorse laden with the baskets, they began their trek at a slow pace. Once again, Susanna rode sidesaddle on the agreeable little mare, Sadie, while Rosamond rode her bay gelding astride.

“How far do we have to go?” Better to ask that simple question rather than ask whether or not they might encounter the Indians again.

“Just under a mile, over in that field.” Rosamond indicated the uncultivated land to the west. With her hat hanging on its strings down her back, she tossed her long, dark brown hair in the breeze. “Too far for the men to walk back to the house to eat, then walk back out to work.”

“That makes sense.” Not to mention it gave her a chance to see Nate.

With the sun beating down on her, Susanna longed to go bareheaded like her companion. But this worn straw bonnet had saved her complexion on the long journey west, so she must not toss it aside. With her lighter coloring, she might not fare as well as Rosamond, whose sun-browned skin looked surprisingly attractive, especially with her green eyes, so much like Nate’s, sparkling like jewels in the bright day.

“There they are.” Rosamond waved toward the men some fifty yards away. “They’re digging irrigation ditches and... Oh, dear.” She pulled her horses to a stop, and Susanna came up beside her. “Let’s just wait here until they notice us.”

“Why?” Susanna focused on the men briefly before quickly looking back at her friend. “‘Oh, dear’ indeed.” Heat rushed to her cheeks.

“We mustn’t blame them.” Rosamond giggled. “Ditch digging can make a man terribly hot, not to mention ruin a good shirt.”

Susanna bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. Mama had taught her all about modesty, and Mrs. Sweetwater had reemphasized those lessons. But on the wagon train, privacy had sometimes given way to expediency, leading to some awkward situations. Today, Susanna thanked the Lord they had not ridden closer to the working men and embarrassed them all.

A sharp whistle split the air, and they saw Nate with his shirt back on and waving his brown hat. The other four men were also properly clothed.

“Let’s go.” Rosamond urged her horse forward using her knees, as Susanna had observed before. While she couldn’t imagine riding astride, she could see how practical it was for this life. She gave Sadie a little tap with her riding crop, and the mare followed the other horse.

They neared the work party, and her heart began to race. Yes, indeed, it had been entirely too long since she’d seen Nate, and the sight of him made her happier than she could have imagined. My, he looked healthy. Due to his outdoor work, his cheeks had tanned even darker than before. Beneath his hat, his green eyes glinted in the sunlight, just like Rosamond’s.

“It’s about time.” He wiped a red handkerchief over his face. “I hope you brought plenty.”

The men crowded around the packhorse and wasted no time in removing the baskets.

Nate sauntered over to Susanna and tilted his hat back. “Will you girls join us?” He gave her that charmingly crooked grin of his, and her heart did its usual somersault, despite his smelling of hard work.

“Of course.” Rosamond jumped down from her horse and hurried to the grassy spot where the men were laying out blankets and digging into the food. “Don’t you men ever wash your hands?” One hand fisted at her waist, she pointed with the other to the nearby stream they were working to connect with the ditch. “Wash. Now.”

Tolley was the first to obey, then Rand and the other two men joined him at the water. While they were occupied, Nate gripped Susanna’s waist and helped her down from Sadie, and pleasant shivers shot up to her neck. “Will you stay and eat with us?” His hands still on her waist, he gazed down at her, not seeming to realize he’d already asked that question.

She had to take a deep breath before offering him a shaky “Yes, thank you.” Gracious, would she ever feel this way about a Southern gentleman? Did that nice young minister from Virginia have a wife? Susanna hadn’t noticed a lady at his side last Sunday.

“Why, Mr. Nate Northam.” She stepped back to break his grip, but her breathiness refused to subside. Nor could she manage to inject the slightest bit of sassiness into her voice. “Shouldn’t you go wash up? And pay particular attention to that dirt smudge on your nose or it just might end up in your dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am.” With a laugh, he wiped his handkerchief over his face again, then headed toward the stream.

Watching him walk away, Susanna could only admire his fine, manly form. In fact, she couldn’t think of a single thing not to admire about either his physical presence or his character.
Oh, Mama, this is one thing you never taught me. I’m trying so hard not to fall in love with this Yankee, but my heart refuses to mind me. What am I supposed to do now?

* * *

As he’d stared down into Susanna’s sky-blue eyes, Nate had felt his pulse hammer wildly. He was glad to have an excuse to walk away from her before he did something foolish. Like tuck those loose blond curls back under her bonnet. Or tell her how pretty she looked. Or tell the boys he was taking the afternoon off so he could spend it with her. Now wouldn’t that be something for the Colonel to hear about? And Rand might just be the one to tell him.

Just this morning, Nate had come to the decision that he would quit feeling so partial toward her. Oh, he’d still work a month to give her the puppy of her choice. He wouldn’t break that promise. But until he could control his temper and get over his anger at the Colonel, it wouldn’t be fair to her or any other lady to seek anything more than friendship.

Even so, he silently thanked Rosamond for bringing Susanna along to deliver dinner. He’d missed seeing her these past couple of days, missed her sassy, teasing ways. Now that his part of building the ballroom was finished, he had to leave the house every day before daylight and ride herd on his brothers and the hands. That meant he saw Susanna only at supper under the Colonel’s watchful eyes. In fact, they hadn’t had a private conversation in three days, if he could count that bit of teasing in front of Rosamond private.

Settling down on one of the blankets the girls had brought, he fished a ham sandwich out of the basket and took a bite. Just as Susanna finished setting out items on the other blanket, Seamus gave her an appraising look Nate didn’t care for in the slightest.

“Will you join us, miss?” The Irishman spoke with that foreign brogue some women found so appealing.

“Well...” she began.

Nate felt heat rushing up his neck. “She’s already accepted my invitation.” He waved her over. “I’ve saved you a spot, Miss Anders.” That should put Seamus in his place. Nate might not be able to court Susanna, but he wasn’t about to let just any cowpoke sweet-talk her. He had an obligation before the Lord to take care of her while her father was laid up.

“I was going to say—” walking over to his blanket, Susanna wore that cute, scolding look on her face “—someone should say grace before anyone eats.”

Nate felt a pinch of shame. As the foreman in charge, he should have set an example for the men, especially his brothers. “You’re right. Let’s pray.” He offered up a spoken prayer of gratitude for the food, for the hands that prepared and brought it out to them, and for good progress as they continued to work on the ditch that afternoon. Once he said “amen,” he silently prayed for the Lord to give him guidance about Susanna. After his hot reaction to Seamus’s friendly invitation to her, something any cowboy might say to a pretty girl, Nate could not deny he was beginning to care deeply for her. But it just wouldn’t work out.

Now, if he could just make his foolish emotions accept that painful fact.

* * *

Susanna sat cross-legged on the blanket, one folded knee only a foot away from Nate’s. Mama would be shocked by her posture, but Susanna had learned early on the trip west that for the noon meal, it was either sit like this or stand. She could tolerate the temporary ache in her back so she could be near Nate. She’d appreciated the way he’d set Seamus straight about where she was going to eat. On the other hand, his protectiveness had stirred up some unruly emotions she couldn’t seem to silence. She tried to think of some way to tease him, but finally settled on a neutral topic.

“The ballroom is beautiful, Nate. You and Zack did a fine job. The wallpaper is exquisite, and there’s not a wrinkle in it.” She picked at the bread crumbs that had fallen on the blanket to avoid looking into those appealing eyes.

“You saw it? Nobody was supposed to go in there.” He scowled at his sister. “The Colonel wants Mother to be the first one to see the finished room.”

Rosamond returned a haughty sniff. “And just how are we supposed to make those velvet drapes if we don’t go in and measure the windows?”

“Oh.” He gave Susanna a sheepish grin. “You’re helping make the curtains? That’s real nice, but you don’t have to do it.”

Warmth spread through her chest at his appreciative gaze. “I enjoy sewing.”

“Susanna is very good with velvet,” Rosamond said. “It always slips for me, and I end up with puckers or uneven seams. And she refuses to give me her secret.” She laughed along with her complaint, so it didn’t give Susanna cause for worry.

“Can’t give away family secrets, now, can I?”

“Well, I still say it’s real nice.”

As he gazed at her, Nate’s expression softened in a way Susanna had never seen before, almost to a glow. With difficulty, she looked away, fighting the pleasant bonding of her heart to him. Did he feel the same way? Were his friendly feelings toward her growing into something more, as hers were toward him? And if they were, what could they do about it? She just couldn’t marry a Yankee. If she did, she’d never be able to go home to Marietta. And surely Nate could never get his father’s approval, for the Colonel not only disliked her, he obviously hated her.

“Have you and Mr. Anders had time to read any more of
Bleak House?
”

Lost in thought, Susanna jumped at Nate’s question. “A little, yes.” She scrambled to remember where they’d left off last night, but she’d fallen asleep right in the middle of reading. Daddy’d had to wake her up and send her off to bed. “I must say, there are so many characters and story lines, it’s difficult to keep track. I was making a chart on our trip, but the horse thieves must have thrown it in the fire, because it’s not anyplace in our wagon.”

His eyes darkened a little at the mention of the thieves, but then he grinned. “A chart, eh? Have you figured out who the villain is yet?”

“Daddy and I disagree, so we’re having a little contest to see who’s right. It makes our traveling more fun. If he wins, I’ll have to shine his shoes, and if I win, he’ll have to wash dishes. That is, once we’re back on the trail.”

“That’s a nice way to pass the time.” Nate’s soft gaze lingered on her, making it hard for her to swallow. Was he hoping, as she was, that it would be some time before she and Daddy would be back on the trail?

After all those months of traveling, surely she could rest for a while longer and enjoy the fellowship of this community. In spite of the Colonel, she really wanted to attend the anniversary party. Or any party, for that matter, if anyone happened to throw one.

Her hopes were realized two days later when Maisie rode over from the Eberly ranch with an invitation to her family’s barn raising the following week. Joining the ladies in the kitchen, she announced, “After the work’s done, we’re having a big shindig to celebrate Independence Day.” Shrugging, she added, “And my birthday.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Rosamond gave her a sly smile. “We already have your present.” She winked at Susanna. The two of them had made a new shirtwaist for Maisie, and both looked forward to giving it to her. At Susanna’s insistence, it had many more frills than Maisie’s usual shirts.

“Why, Maisie,” Mrs. Northam said, “I’d forgotten that you share your birthday with our United States. Of course we’ll be there. What can we bring?”

“Cook’s gonna roast a side of beef and a whole pig over open pits, so any side fixings will be good. And Ma said to tell you to bring your special lemon cake.”

While the other ladies discussed what their neighbors might bring, Susanna scrambled to think of something she could prepare. Not that they would need her efforts, but she’d still like to participate. If Angela had the right ingredients, Susanna could impress Nate...well,
everyone,
with her special dessert.

Maisie chuckled. “Anybody want to make a guess what Mrs. Halstead will bring?”

“No need to guess.” Rosamond pinched her nose as if smelling something bad. “Sauerkraut.”

As Mrs. Northam laughed at their banter, Susanna glanced around the kitchen searching for the ingredients for her special recipe. Her heart skipped when she located molasses, pecans and even vanilla. She couldn’t wait to ask Angela to help her. Yet even as she planned, she chided herself. Her growing desire to please Nate in every way only added to her slippery hold on her heart.

Chapter Fourteen

“D
on’t forget the barn raising at the Eberly place this coming Thursday,” Reverend Thomas announced as he stepped down from the podium after his sermon. “Not that I think any of you will.” Chuckling, he walked up the aisle toward the door. “Some people will do any kind of work to chow down at one of Joe’s barbecue feasts.”

Nate laughed along with the rest of the congregation as they all stood to leave the church. Although he didn’t think any cook in the San Luis Valley could compete with Angela, he did agree that Joe ranked right near Pam Williams as second best. Remembering his discussion with Susanna while they were out on the trail, he leaned against her lightly in the pew.

“Maybe you’ll fix one of your family recipes.” He gave her his most charming grin and wiggled his eyebrows. “I seem to recall your bragging about them.”

“Nate Northam.” She sniffed with artificial haughtiness. “I never did any such thing.” Her pretty face creased into a cute, teasing smirk. “But you just wait and see. You’re the one who’ll be bragging that you know me.” She peered around him, and her smile vanished as she scooted out of the pew.

Nate didn’t have to turn to know the Colonel was responsible for the change in her. As much as he didn’t want to look at his father, his head swiveled involuntarily. He lifted his hat from the pew and gave the Colonel a curt nod. “Nice sermon.”

“Glad you were listening.” His father’s eyes darted briefly toward the door, where Susanna stood in line waiting to chat with Reverend Thomas. “Maybe you’ll take heed.”

For a moment, Nate couldn’t grasp his meaning. Then some of the passages the preacher read from Proverbs came to mind, and he could barely resist slamming his fist into his father’s stubborn jaw. If Susanna heard his insulting remark, the Colonel deserved nothing less.

Lord, forgive me. Here I am in Your house, and I’m thinking such sinful thoughts. But what am I supposed to do, to
feel,
when the Colonel is so unfair and judgmental against someone so sweet and innocent? Someone I can’t help but care for? Help me, Lord, ’cause it’s a sure thing I can’t help myself.

He moved out of the pew and followed the rest of the congregation toward the door. Susanna had stepped out onto the front stoop and stood shaking hands with the preacher.

“Daddy would be so pleased if you could come visit, Reverend Thomas.” She gazed up at the preacher with a sweet, guileless smile that would charm a grizzly bear.

A wave of jealously swept over Nate, almost knocking him off his feet. Reverend Thomas was a bachelor, just like Seamus, who’d flirted with Susanna earlier in the week. Only the minister wasn’t some free-ranging cowpoke, but a godly, upright man. Rebellion kicked up inside Nate. Maybe the preacher could marry Maisie. That would show the Colonel. It would also set Nate free to court Susanna.
Court!
There was that word again, one that increasingly sprang up in his mind like the pesky cowlick on the back of his head.

Conviction struck hard on the heels of those thoughts. Anger. Jealousy. Rebellion. Right here in God’s house. Nate mentally slammed a fist into his own square jaw, a replica of his father’s he stared at every morning when he shaved. Until he dealt with those faults, those
sins,
he wasn’t fit to court—or marry—anybody.

* * *

After overhearing the Colonel’s insulting words, clearly aimed at her, Susanna appreciated the warm firmness of Reverend Thomas’s grip as he shook her hand. She thrust aside all unpleasant thoughts and gave her full attention to the minister. In his eyes, she noticed a brief spark that hinted at something beyond pastoral interest. Nothing improper, of course. Merely the look of an unmarried gentleman appraising an unmarried lady. A Southern gentleman, she reminded herself, and therefore a prime candidate for the fulfillment of her lifelong dreams. But she doubted he would want to leave his church and go back to the South. And as she returned his gaze, no emotions somersaulted through her chest. No giddy sentiments caused her hand to tremble. Instead, she felt just plain comfortable, as she did with her kindly old minister back home.

“I’ll be happy to visit your father, Miss Anders,” Reverend Thomas said. “You just name the day and time.”

“Why not today, Reverend?” Mrs. Northam came up beside Susanna and put her arm around her waist. “It’s been too long since you’ve been out to the ranch for Sunday dinner, and we’d be delighted if you’d come. It would give us an excuse to cook something special on a Sunday instead of eating leftovers. I know my boys would appreciate it.”

The joy that surged through Susanna and brought tears to her eyes had nothing to do with romantic feelings. Mrs. Northam’s kind touch reminded her of Mama’s loving embraces. More than that, her hospitality to this fine minister would mean he could talk with Daddy this very day, maybe encourage him and help them find another place to live.

If the Colonel thought she hadn’t heard his despicable comment to Nate, he was sadly mistaken. Or perhaps he’d meant for her to hear. Either way, she just had to get away from his wicked judgments.

She might not be a perfect Christian, but she wasn’t like the immoral woman in Proverbs, not in any way. All her life, Mama had set an example of being a godly Proverbs 31 woman. And all Susanna’s life, that was exactly what she’d also striven to be, as did every Southern lady she knew. But what would a Yankee colonel know of such things? The way General Sherman and his troops had swept through the South, murdering and pillaging as they went, they’d never honored Southern women nor cared whether they lived or died. How hypocritical of the Colonel to cast aspersions on her character when his own moral behavior was reprehensible.

Once they all arrived at the ranch, Susanna offered to help in the kitchen because it was Angela and Rita’s day off. Last week, the family had eaten sandwiches and spent the day resting. With Reverend Thomas as their guest, however, Mrs. Northam insisted upon a more formal meal. While the ladies cooked, Nate kindly offered to take the minister upstairs to meet Daddy.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Mrs. Northam patted Susanna’s arm as she peeled potatoes. “On the rare Sunday when we have company, Rosamond and I always have to rush around to get the meal on the table. It’s so nice to have an extra pair of helping hands.”

“You’re very welcome, ma’am.” Susanna put on her best, brightest smile, but her heart ached. Was this dear lady so blind to her husband’s faults that she couldn’t see how he treated their unwilling guest?

Rosamond stoked the fire in the cast-iron stove, placed a large skillet on top and lay flour-covered pieces of chicken into the bacon grease left from breakfast. Soon the aromas mingled into a mouthwatering scent that filled the room and probably the rest of the house.

Trying to ignore her growling stomach, Susanna decided she would take her own dinner upstairs to eat with Daddy so she could avoid the Colonel. Maybe Reverend Thomas would eat with them. No, of course not. He’d accepted Mrs. Northam’s invitation, so he would dine with the family. At least the minister was with Daddy now. She would pray Daddy would inquire about another place to live, but last night he seemed more than content to stay at Four Stones. Of course, hidden away in Nate’s bedroom, he didn’t have to put up with the Colonel’s constant censure. What would he think if she told him about the Colonel’s insinuation this morning? She couldn’t tell him, of course, for it would only grieve him that he was unable to protect her.

Tolley burst through the kitchen door, his black Sunday suit changed for a blue shirt and denim trousers. “I’m starved. How soon will dinner be ready?”

Susanna found his youthful brashness a welcome interruption to her unhappy thoughts, but she couldn’t help but wish his oldest brother would come to the kitchen, too.

“If you set the table, it’ll be ready a lot sooner.” Mrs. Northam put a pan of bread into the oven, then brushed strands of frizzy gray-brown hair from her face with the back of her hand.

“That’s women’s work.” Tolley sauntered over to the sideboard and snatched up a leftover biscuit from breakfast.

Turning chicken over in the skillet, Rosamond snorted in a rather unladylike way.

“Humph.” Mrs. Northam nudged her son with her elbow. “Then get out of my kitchen so we can finish our
women’s work.
”

“What women’s work?” Nate breezed through the door, and Susanna’s heart did its usual somersault. “How can I help?” He gave Tolley a meaningful look. What a good example he set for his youngest brother. There went her heart again.

Tolley grimaced and put the half-eaten biscuit on the sideboard. “We can set the table.” He moved to the cabinet where his mother kept her best china.

Soon to be second-best china, Susanna thought as a tiny bolt of happiness shot through her. How could she possibly leave before seeing this kind lady receive her extraordinary gift from her extraordinarily wicked husband? That meant Susanna would have to endure another three weeks in this house. Even then, how could she drag Daddy away when Zack and Angela took such good care of him? Unless he healed faster than he had in the past week, she would have to manage everything all by herself, an impossible task. She was stuck like a possum in a pot of tar, no question about it.

Once they’d prepared the food, Susanna found the tray Angela used to carry up Daddy’s meals and loaded it with enough for two people. Laying a linen towel over the tray, she headed for the back stairs.

“Think your father can eat all of that?” Nate cut her off and peeked under the towel, then gave her a dubious grin. “May I carry it up for you?”

“My, you’re full of questions, Nate Northam.” As much as her silly emotions had improved when he’d come to the kitchen, she’d hoped to make her escape without attracting his notice. But he’d been entirely too helpful in the meal preparations, maybe enjoying her presence as much as she enjoyed his. “I can manage very well, thank you.”

“I have no doubt you can.” His gentle tone and soft gaze soothed her bruised soul like a healing balm. Did he realize she’d heard his father’s cruel insinuations and want to make up for them? “But I’d still like to help.”

Her eyes began to burn, so she clicked her tongue dramatically and shook her head. “Land sakes, do let me get on with it before the mashed potatoes get cold.” If he didn’t let her go right this second, she’d break down and cry. How could this man be so different from his father?

* * *

Nate stepped back to let Susanna pass, and she scurried out of the room almost as if she was afraid. Not of him, but of something. That confirmed his worst suspicions. He’d come to the kitchen on the pretext of helping so he could see how she was doing. While she still had a bit of sass in her, her crestfallen posture and overly bright comments to Mother and Rosamond had made it clear she’d heard the Colonel’s remarks.

That tears it.
This afternoon after Reverend Thomas left, Nate would confront the Colonel in his office and insist that he quit insulting Susanna and start treating her with proper respect. In the meantime, when they all sat down to dinner, he couldn’t even look at his father, only stare at the empty chair across the table where Susanna should be sitting.

“A very fine sermon, Reverend.” The Colonel sounded as if he was awarding a medal to one of his soldiers. At least that was how it sounded to Nate.

While Mother and Rosamond added their agreement, Rand and Tolley were busy stuffing their faces. Nate wished they would pay attention. Several things the preacher had said would apply to one or both of them. Yet when Nate looked at the Colonel, he was staring straight at him, as though he was some reprobate sinner. Not that he didn’t struggle with his anger, but that wasn’t what his father referred to. Yes, they’d have a talk this afternoon, and if he lost his temper, so be it.

“Thank you, sir.” Like everyone else in the area, the preacher seemed to stand in awe of the Colonel, if his modest shrug was any indication. “I’ve been studying the Book of Proverbs for some time now and find its wisdom useful for the spiritual growth of an individual or a community.”

“Hmm.” The Colonel nodded thoughtfully. “An interesting insight. I look forward to seeing how you develop this series.”

A whole series on Proverbs? How had Nate failed to hear that bit of information? Maybe instead of talking to the Colonel, he should take Rand aside, give him a firm shake and warn him to listen next Sunday instead of dozing off.

Or, maybe instead of doing either one, he would take Susanna out for a walk and try to make up for the way his father treated her. That would be a much better way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

* * *

“So
Alamosa
is Spanish for
grove of cottonwoods?
”
Susanna walked with her arm looped through Nate’s. Although she wasn’t concerned about stumbling over the roots and rocks on the uneven path, she did enjoy holding on to his muscular forearm. The last time she’d walked arm in arm with a gentleman was last Christmas, when a would-be suitor tried to talk her out of coming west. Even though she hadn’t wanted to leave her hometown, her promise to Mama that she would take care of Daddy defeated the arguments of every friend who wanted to keep her there. And now, of course, she found Nate’s company far more enjoyable than that of any other man she’d ever met. Even though he was a Yankee.

“That’s right.” Nate looked up toward the cottonwood branches swaying in the warm summer breeze. “You’ve noticed we have lots of Spanish names around here.”

“I recall you said so the day we met.” Had it been only nine days since he’d saved Daddy and her on that mountain pass? It seemed a lifetime ago. “But your ranch’s name isn’t Spanish. How did your folks come up with Four Stones?” She guessed it had something to do with the family’s four children.

Nate glanced at the house with obvious pride and affection. “The day we finished clearing this plot, the Colonel asked Mother how big she wanted her new home to be. She told each of us children to pick up a stone and mark out the four corners.” He chuckled at the memory. “I don’t think the Colonel expected us to make it so big because he walked away mumbling to himself. Of course, he eventually granted Mother’s wishes, saying the ranch would be officially named Four Stones.”