I'm Off to Montana for to Throw the Hoolihan (Code of the West) (14 page)

“Would you like to sit down?” She patted the cushion next to her.

“Think I’ll just stand by the fire and try to dry out.”

“This is nice,” she murmured as she took a sip.

“The coffee?”

“The coffee, the warm fire, the big house—and especially having you come in from work not having been shot at by train robbers or bushwhacked by rustlers. I’m going to like having a rancher husband. I bet you didn’t even fire your gun today.”

“Nope. I didn’t.”
’Course I did have to pull it and point it down at Starke and Cantrell’s store.
“Eh, did you see Lorenzo and Selena?” He huddled in front of the crackling fire, sipping his coffee.

Pepper laid down her Bible next to the sewing and ran her fingers through the blonde hair that cascaded across her shoulders and down her back. “No, they didn’t come over yet. Angelita said they went straight to the cottage.”

Tap pulled off his heavy, dripping wool-lined canvas jacket. “I didn’t see any light over there.”

“Oh, you know how it is on the second day of marriage.”

“If I remember right, you and me got up on the second day and cooked for twenty-five house guests, including Selena.”

“But that’s not what we wanted to do.”

Tap felt her green eyes tug at him. “Mmmm, glory, lady—you are still one pretty woman.”

“I bet you say that to all the ladies great with child.”

“No, ma’am, you’re the first one. That green velvet dress is one of my favorites. I haven’t seen it on you in a long time. I figured it was one of those that didn’t fit you anymore.”

“It doesn’t. It was in Suzanne’s wardrobe, remember? An
yway, I was sick of wearing that same faded brown one.”

“But how did you .
 . .”

“I didn’t button it in the back. As long as I lean back against the sofa, it works fine.”

Tap turned away from the fire to warm his backside. Steam rose off his trousers, vest, and shirt. “Maybe I better put on something dry. Where’s Angelita?”

“Correcting papers in her room.”

“Doing what?”

“She and several of the Miller children played school on the front porch all day until it began to rain. She borrowed six pieces of paper from your office.”

“And she was the teacher?”

“Can you imagine her as anything else?”

“Nope.”

Pepper took a sip of coffee, held it a moment, then gulped it down. “Mrs. Miller—her name is Lucinda, but she asked that I call her Lucy—wanted to speak to both of us.”

“Is there trouble? Did she hear from Mr. Miller?”

“No, I don’t think so .
 . . yet. She just needs someone to talk to.”

“I’ll go change.” He stopped at the doorway. “You know, da
rlin’, I’ve made a lot of rides in stormy weather. I generally don’t like them at all. But this time, knowin’ you were here on the ranch waitin’ for me made it all sort of seem worthwhile.”

“We’re home, Mr. Andrews. We’re home.”

In the history of Pepper Andrews’ smiles, Tap considered the one she wore now as one of the two or three best of all times. “My, oh my, you do look pretty.”

“You tryin’ to sweet-talk me, cowboy?”

“No, it’s just . . . your hair combed down, that green dress, the beautiful smile.”

“Now there is one needy, desperate husband.”

“It shows, huh?”

“It’s been a long pregnancy for all of us. But even if you drawled, ‘Ah, shucks, Miss Pepper,’ I still won’t dance with you, drifter.”

“Just a few more weeks, darlin’, and it’s all over.”

“Over? Over!” she snapped. The sparkle went right out of her green eyes. “Don’t be naive. A few more weeks and it’s just begi
nning.”

“What’s beginning?” Angelita interjected as she bounced down the stairs.

“Oh, nothin’, lil’ darlin’,” Tap called. “Mama’s just a bit testy.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

“Angelita,” Pepper instructed, “you get your coat and hat, take the umbrella, and go tell Mrs. Miller Tap’s home. Why don’t you offer to stay there with the children so she can visit, and they won’t all have to be out in the rain?”

“Oh, good. Maybe I’ll go visit Selena and Mr. Odessa too.”

“Don’t you dare. You leave them alone,” Pepper insisted. “We’ll know they want company when they come to see us.”

“It’s only a small cottage. It must be quite boring in there,” Angelita huffed. “I’m sure they would appreciate a visit.”

Pepper raised her voice. “You may not leave this house, young lady, until you promise me you will not disturb the Odessas.”

“I promise.”

“Good. Because I expect you to do exactly what I told you to.”

“You know what I think?” Angelita pulled her long wool coat off a peg. “I think we will all be very, very glad when the baby gets here. Maybe you won’t be so grouchy then.” She pulled her hat down over her ears and stepped out onto the covered porch carrying the umbrella.

Pepper picked up her sewing and stabbed the cloth with a needle.
I certainly am not grouchy. I don’t know why everyone says I’m testy when I’m merely expressing legitimate concerns. Perhaps I’m a little too forceful or brusque, but not grouchy. They have no idea what real grouchiness is like. I ought to let them see it, and then they wouldn’t be so sensitive about the way I act now. If they were stuck in this body for ten minutes, they’d probably go running out of the house stark, raving mad and throw themselves in the mud.

Lord, I am not grouchy.

Am I?

Tap shuffled down the stairs wearing a freshly pressed boiled white collarless shirt, clean tan duckings, and black leather suspen
ders. He carried his stove-top black boots in his hand. “You want another cup of coffee?” he asked her.

“No,” she steamed, “I don’t want any more coffee.”
Okay, so maybe I am a little grouchy.

Tap sat on the brick hearth pulling on clean socks.

“Honey, I’m sorry for being so short with everyone today. I must sound horrible. But you married me for ‘better or for worse,’ right?”

He jerked on his boot and glanced over at her. “Which is this?” He winked.

Pepper stuck out her tongue at him and then broke into a wide grin.

“Oh, my, darlin’, that dimpled smile of yours stills puts a lump in my throat and a leap in my heart.”

“Good.” She patted her protruding stomach. “I’m glad something still works.”

Tap stood and walked toward her. “You want me to rub your back?”

A soft, steady knock at the door caused them both to turn and look.

“I want you to open the door,” she sighed. “It must be Mrs. Mi
ller.”

Lucinda Miller entered the big house wearing a black hooded cape that covered her long navy dress. Tap stepped over. “Let me hang your coat by the fire,” he offered. “Please come in and sit down. Can I get you ladies some coffee?”

“That would be delightful, dear,” Pepper hummed. “Lucy, please excuse me for not standing.”

“I am one person you do not need to explain things to,” Mrs. Mi
ller replied. “I’m amazed you’re able to fit into such a beautiful dress.”

“That’s why I can’t get up,” Pepper whispered. “I didn’t bu
tton it.”

“I have a green measuring dress that’s very similar,” Lucinda Mi
ller admitted.

“Measuring dress?”

“Yes, after every child is born, I pull out that same dress and keep trying it on until it fits again. That way I know I’m back where I started from. I call it my measuring dress.”

Tap came back carrying two cups of coffee. He sat down on the brick hearth and faced the sofa where both women sat. “Now Pe
pper said you wanted to talk to us. What can we do for you?”

“First, let me repeat what I told Mrs. Andrews. Having you at this ranch has been a godsend for us. We didn’t have the cash for a hotel room, even if we could have traveled that far. It’s such a pleasant, happy atmosphere here. After one day the children already say it’s the most enjoyable place they have ever stayed.”

“I’m afraid the bunkhouse isn’t all it could be,” Tap apologized.

“It’s much more accommodating than a hole in the ground, Mr. Andrews. You saw what our place was like.”

“Sometimes you have to go through some tough times to get to the place you want.”

“We have to go through tough times just to live until the next day. I don’t know quite where to begin. But I must talk to someone. May God forgive me if I shouldn’t be saying these things.”

“Whatever you tell us will be held in strict confidence,” Pepper assured her.

Her words were halting at first. “I married Ezra . . . when I was fi
fteen. He was twenty-nine. He spent his entire life in the Quaker faith. This is all new to me, but I loved him dearly and was willing to accept the lifestyle. I still love my husband dearly. I didn’t mean for it to sound otherwise.”

Pepper nodded.

“In our fifteen years of marriage, we have never lived in the same place more than a year or so. Ezra keeps finding someplace farther west that excites his interest. From Ohio to Indiana to Iowa to Minnesota to Nebraska to Montana. We’ve scooted along.”

“This is our fourth home, and we haven’t been married a year,” Pepper admitted.

“But we intend on being here a long time,” Tap added.

Mrs. Miller rubbed her lower lip. “All of this wears on me and the children, but I know it also wears on Ezra. He’s ready to stop mo
ving. He believes with all his heart our farm here in Montana is God-given. If we don’t stay here, we will violate divine Providence.”

“It’s a pretty place,” Tap encouraged her.

“It’s wonderful, but . . . for reasons unknown to us, violent men want us to leave.”

“And you’re frightened?” Pepper supplied.

“The thought of perishing does not frighten me, Mrs. Andrews. My confidence is in my Lord and Savior and the place He is preparing for me. But I’m frightened to think my children might have to grow up without a mother. Or without a father. I could not run that farm without Ezra, and yet he continually puts himself in a position to be mortally wounded.”

“What would you like to happen?” Pepper asked.

“Either to move . . . perhaps back to the States where we could be around others of our persuasion. Someplace less violent.”

“What’s the other possibility?” Tap que
stioned.

Mrs. Miller twisted her hands and looked away. “I wish Ezra would point a shotgun at the next bushwhacker who rides into our place and blow him all the way to Hades. May God forgive me for that thought. I am weak in the faith. I have a difficult time allowing our lives to be threa
tened over and over.”

“Mr. Miller is a brave, principled man,” Tap began. “It’s ce
rtainly not the way I would handle the matter, but my background is not gentle and spiritual. Rather, it's violent and worldly. I respect his determination.”

“It will be of some comfort to me as a widow, I am sure, to r
emember my husband as a faithful and principled man. However, if I could have my choice, I would choose not to be a widow.”

“How can we help you?” Pepper asked.

“I pray God—and Mr. Miller—will forgive me for what I’m about to say. I have no right to ask this. I do not want you to jeopardize your own safety. You have a lovely wife and children to think of yourself.” Lucinda Miller pulled her fingers apart and wrapped her arms tight across her chest. “I am asking . . . if Mr. Andrews would—or could . . . go up to the farm and check on Ezra and Peter.”

“Is that all?” Tap pressed.

“And use whatever force necessary to ensure my husband and my eldest child do not get murdered.” She dropped her face into her hands and began to weep. Her chest heaved as sobs wracked the room.

Scooting to the sofa, Pepper felt her unbu
ttoned dress slip slightly down her shoulder. She tugged it back into place and wrapped her arm around the woman’s shoulder. She rocked her back and forth.

“You know I’ll go up there,” Tap said.

Pepper nodded. “Maybe you could do some book work or go work your leather or something.”

“Think I’ll step out to the barn.”

By nine o’clock the only light shining at the Slash-Bar-4 headquarters was the kerosene lamp in the living room of the big house. Mrs. Miller and her children had turned their lamp off around 8:00. Howdy Renten had doused his about 8:30. Mr. and Mrs. Odessa had not bothered even turning one on. Only a small plume of smoke from the cottage chimney signaled they were home.

Tap and Pepper sat on the couch staring at the flames in the huge rock fireplace. His bootless feet were propped up on a three-legged stool. Wearing a flannel nightgown co
vered by a flannel robe, Pepper sat crosswise on the couch, her feet in Tap’s lap. Through two pair of heavy socks, he rubbed her feet.

“Tap, what are you going to do tomo
rrow?”