Pony Express Courtship (6 page)

“What was that like?” Andrew picked up his gun and cradled it in his arms. Whether he was angling for company on his watch or was simply curious, Seth couldn't tell, but decided to answer him honestly.

“Well, I was traveling alone and had decided to bed down in a small grove of trees just outside of town. Normally, my horse lets me know if anyone is around, but on this night, the horse didn't alert me. Or if he did, I simply didn't hear him. Anyway, the next thing I knew three men surrounded me with guns.”

“Did you try to fight them?” Andrew propped his leg on the fence and turned from looking at the horses. His face filled with excitement. Seth made a note of his lack of attention to what might be happening around them.

“No, I chose to live instead.”

Andrew sighed in disappointment. “So you just gave them your money.” He turned away and studied the house.

“Yes, I gave them my money and all my supplies, too.”

“Why didn't you fight them?” Andrew faced him once more. The accusation in his voice caused Seth to pause. It seemed there was more to the question than just curiosity.

“Andrew, there is a time to fight and a time to surrender. Knowing the difference can mean life or death.”

“But they took all your money and supplies.”

Seth nodded. “Yes, but they left me with my life. There is no shame in not fighting when the odds are against you.” He laid a hand on the young man's shoulder. It was obvious that Andrew had either backed down from a fight or had fought and lost.

“Maybe, but I will never let a man take what is mine away.” Andrew straightened his shoulders and stepped away from Seth.

It was obvious that the boy was hurting, but Seth didn't think now was the time to confront that hurt. He decided to pray about it instead. “Well, I think I'll turn in now. Do you need me to spot you for a few minutes? Or will you be all right until Philip relieves you?”

Andrew's shoulders drooped. “I'll be all right. I don't have much longer to wait now.”

“Good night.” Seth walked away, leaving the young man to his guard duty and his own thoughts. Each boy had a story to tell. He couldn't help but wonder about Andrew's.

In his room, Seth kneeled down beside his bed and prayed. “Lord, please help me as I work with these young men. I know Andrew is hurting. Please help him to overcome his past and look toward a bright new future. And, Lord, if I can be of service to You or him, please show me how. Amen.” He pulled himself up on the side of the bed.

Working on the Young farm could possibly be more challenging than he'd expected. Seth couldn't deny that he found Rebecca Young attractive and that made him cautious to even explore thoughts on the matter. How could a man, in such a short time, feel so strong a connection to another person? He could almost guess her next words and he read the expressions on her face and in her eyes so easily. Yet, when it came to the workings of her mind, she seemed to guard herself carefully. And that made him want to keep himself separated from Rebecca and the rest of her family, but, on the other hand, he also felt as if he wanted to jump in with both feet and help them in any way he could. But in doing so, would he regret the outcome?

Chapter Six

R
ebecca peered out the window, tongue-tied in surprise as the stage sloshed through the rain puddles in her front yard. What on earth was it doing here? The stage never passed this way. She stepped out onto the front porch.

Seth dashed from the bunkhouse, trying to avoid the tracks made from the wheels. He pulled off his hat and arched a brow at her as he bounded up onto the porch. “I didn't think the stage stopped here,” he said in way of greeting.

“It doesn't,” Rebecca answered, watching as the stage came to a complete stop.

The driver jumped from his seat up top. Water and mud splashed around his already soaked pant legs as he hurried to open the door in the pouring rain.

Rebecca watched as a tall, thin, mustached man with graying hair descended the coach steps. He carried a briefcase and his boots shone like oiled lanterns. Rebecca almost cringed as he stepped from the last rung directly into the mud. Mr. James Bromley, one of the Pony Express division superintendents, had graced them with his presence.

She whispered to Seth, “Were you expecting him today?”

“No, I was not,” he said with quiet emphasis. “I can only assume he's here to check on my progress with the boys.”

Mr. Bromley stepped up onto the porch. “Mrs. Young, Seth.”

Seth stepped forward and shook the older man's hand. “Mr. Bromley, you chose a dreary day to come for a visit.”

The other man laughed. “It's pleasant here. In other places along the route they're still getting snow.”

Rebecca stepped forward. “Please, come inside out of the rain. I've made a fresh pot of coffee and you can conduct your business out of the weather.” She held the door open.

“Thank you, Mrs. Young, that would be most appreciated.” Mr. Bromley wiped his feet on the rag rug she'd placed in front of the door and then swept past her. The smell of cigar smoke wafted from him to her sensitive nose.

Seth took the door and held it open for her. He offered an encouraging grin. She passed him in the doorway and immediately noted that Mr. Bromley had made himself at home.

Joy sat on the floor beside the window playing with blocks the boys had given her from the scraps they'd used in rebuilding the barn. She looked up in surprise to find a stranger sitting on her mother's couch.

“Joy, come with me to the kitchen. We'll leave the men to discuss their business in private.” Rebecca didn't wait for the little girl to respond but turned toward her comfortable kitchen. The hearty scent of fresh-brewed coffee filled the sweet-smelling kitchen.

When they were out of earshot of the men, Joy asked, “Ma, can we give Seth some of the cookies we made?”

The two of them had spent the morning making sugar cookies. “I'm sure he would like that. Why don't you get a plate and put some on it. Make sure the plate isn't chipped. We want to present our best to Mr. Bromley, don't we?”

“Yes, Ma.” Joy hurried to the cupboard and reached for one of the special plates used for company. “I hope he likes them.”

“Who? Mr. Bromley?” Rebecca asked. She suspected her daughter was talking about Seth. The little girl followed him around like a puppy. Thankfully, he didn't seem to mind.

“Yes, but also Seth.” The little girl moved to the big platter of cookies that sat on the counter and picked out several bigger ones. “I think these are the prettiest, don't you?” she asked.

Rebecca glanced over her shoulder and looked at the cookies. “They sure are,” she agreed.

The smile that graced her daughter's sweet face pushed away some of the concern Rebecca felt at Mr. Bromley's arrival. She prayed he'd approve of Seth's methods and progress with the boys. She told herself it had nothing to do with liking Seth, it had to do with the boys having to adjust to a new station keeper, if Mr. Bromley didn't approve of Seth and his methods.

A few minutes later, she and Joy were back in the sitting room passing out coffee and cookies. Seth smiled his thanks. He appeared relaxed so Rebecca assumed all had gone well in the men's discussion.

“I hope you like sugar cookies, Mr. Bromley,” Rebecca said as she handed him his cup.

He selected a cookie from the plate Joy held out to him and smiled. “As a matter of fact, I do.” Mr. Bromley took a bite, closed his eyes and sighed.

Joy smiled at Seth. “I made them. Do you like them, too, Seth?” she asked.

Seth met Rebecca's gaze over the little girl's head. He took a bite of the cookie and chewed slowly. A teasing glint entered his eyes as he asked Joy, “Did you dip your finger in the batter?”

Joy shook her head. “No. Ma says that's yucky and not to do it.”

Seth laughed. “Well, these are the sweetest and best cookies I've ever tasted.”

“Mrs. Young, have you considered selling your coffee and cookies?” Mr. Bromley asked in a serious voice.

She set down the coffee tray and frowned. “No. Besides, who would I sell them to?” Rebecca doubted she could sell them at the general store and she didn't want to deal with Mr. Edwards to try.

He sat forward. “I'm glad you asked. Part of the reason I'm here today is to tell you that we'd like to use your farm as a stagecoach stop as well as a Pony Express home station.” The older man stopped speaking and let his words sink in.

Rebecca looked to Seth, who simply shrugged his shoulders. She turned her attention back to Mr. Bromley and asked, “Do you need my permission to have it stop here?” She wasn't sure if having her home become the stagecoach stop was a good idea. How would it affect the boys?

“Since the farm belongs to you, yes. We've discovered that the stage riders need a break and your place is in the middle of the two stops it already makes,” he explained.

Rebecca nodded. She knew the stage passed about a mile away from the house. It made sense that if they were going to add an additional stop they make it at her farm. She hesitated, though. Would the benefits of allowing it to stop here outweigh the drawbacks?

“If you wanted to sell refreshments to the passengers, we would have no problem with that and I'm sure they would be most appreciative,” he added, as if trying to persuade her to allow it. “The stop would only be for about thirty minutes—enough time to allow the tired travelers to stretch their legs, and the coach driver time to water and rest the horses before pressing on.”

Rebecca picked up a cookie and nibbled its crispy edge. If she could sell food to the travelers it would mean a little extra income. It would also mean she could have supplies delivered right to her front door, not to mention get to see people more often. She liked the thought of that. Even with all the kids it became very lonesome during the winter when they didn't go to town but once every few months. “How often would it pass through?”

“A couple of times a week. I'll be able to give you a schedule as soon as I have your permission to use the farm,” he answered, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a slip of paper.

Deciding to give it a try, Rebecca asked, “The refreshments wouldn't need to be large meals, would they?”

“No, something simple, like these cookies or a sandwich.” He unfolded the paper and studied it. “It looks like the stage would run on Mondays from east to west and Thursdays from west to east—they should both arrive around ten thirty in the morning.” Mr. Bromley looked up at her. “So what do you think? Can we make this a regular stop?”

Rebecca nodded. “I think that will be fine as long as the stage rider will take care of his horses himself.”

“That he will, Mrs. Young.” Mr. Bromley finished his coffee and stood. “Thank you for the cookies and coffee. Now I need to be on my way.” He pulled his hat back on his head and walked to the door.

Rebecca followed him. “When will the stage start stopping here?” she asked as her mind began to do a mental inventory of her supplies.

“We'll need to check the route, make sure there are no ruts or trees down. Plan for next Monday to be the first time it stops.” He smiled at her. “Thank you for agreeing.”

She returned his smile. “You're welcome.”

The driver of the stage hurried to open the door for the businessman. Mr. Bromley dashed out into the rain and Seth ran toward the bunkhouse, where the rest of the boys waited. The stage pulled away and Seth disappeared into the bunkhouse. Disappointment ate at her. She would have liked to talk to him about her new business venture. When had she started thinking of Seth as a sounding board? He'd only been there a week and she realized she'd begun to look forward to their chats in the evening. That was only natural, wasn't it?

* * *

Seth felt as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders. He hadn't expected Mr. Bromley today, but his encouraging words had come at a much-needed time. His boss seemed happy the boys were doing well in their preparations for the many rides they would be completing in the days to come. The fact that his boss had arrived by stage at first had puzzled him, since the stage normally passed about a mile to the north of the farm. As their conversation continued Mr. Bromley had asked a few pointed questions about Rebecca, and Seth became a little uncomfortable, wondering why his boss needed to know if Seth thought Rebecca had a good business head. When he asked if she cooperated with Seth with regard to his training of the boys, Seth took the bull by the horns and asked him why all the questions. Once satisfied that the questions were for her good, he answered with honesty and told his boss that over the past few days he'd come to admire Mrs. Young and her family.

Then, just before Rebecca and Joy had returned, Mr. Bromley had given Seth more money to buy needed supplies for the barn, such as bridles, saddles and feed. All in all it turned out to be a good visit.

Seth shook the water from his hat and then entered the bunkhouse. Philip and Thomas were playing checkers beside the black potbellied stove. Andrew lay on his bunk with a book resting over his face. Noah sat on his bunk sharpening his knife. Jacob patiently schooled Beni on the different types of knots. They held a rope between them and Jacob watched Benjamin closely, only guiding when necessary.

“Jacob, can I have a word with you?” Seth asked, opening the door to his room.

“Sure, Seth.” Jacob nodded to Benjamin. “Keep practicing, I'll be right back to see how you're doing.”

Seth waited for the young man to walk to him then proceeded into his bedroom. He sat down on his bed and indicated that Jacob should take the rocker that sat in the corner. Once Jacob was seated, Seth said, “Now that the barn is built, I'd like for you to move into the tack room.”

Jacob studied the tips of his muddy boots. “I'd like to, Seth, but someone needs to stay with Ma in the house.”

“Why? When I got here you were all staying out here in the bunkhouse,” Seth reminded him, aware that this was important to Jacob.

Still looking down, Jacob answered, “Yes, but you weren't here then.” He looked up with challenging eyes.

Seth sat up a little straighter. “Jacob, I know you are trying to tell me something, but for the life of me I can't figure out what. Why don't you just spit out whatever is bothering you?”

“Ma needs a chaperone.”

“A chaperone?”

Jacob nodded. “Yep, people in town are talking.”

“About your mother and me?”

“Yes, sir.”

Seth breathed in deeply. “Was that what had you and your mother tied in knots when we all went to town together that first day?”

Jacob nodded.

He should have seen this coming. Seth exhaled and said, “I see. But how do the townsfolk know you are staying in the house?”

Jacob rubbed the dark stubble on his chin. “I guess they don't.”

“So, if we moved Andrew into the house, no one would know that you moved out?” Seth asked, easing into a more comfortable position.

“No, I suppose not,” Jacob answered, looking as if he might argue further.

Seth spoke quickly, not giving him a chance. “As the stock tender you need to stay in the tack room so that you are closer to the horses. We will need the horses ready to go at a moment's notice. Riders will arrive in the middle of the night as well as during the day. You have to be prepared. Do you want to have to tiptoe out of the house every time you hear a rider come in?”

“I'm not sure Andrew will want to move into the house,” Jacob answered. He stood slowly. “I'll ask him—if he's agreeable then I'll move out to the barn.”

He watched Jacob shut the door behind him. The sound of thunder shook the house. The storm reminded Seth of the Youngs. Just when he thought things were going well and they were all working together, lightning seemed to strike and was always followed by thunder.

There was no doubt in his mind that if Andrew didn't want to move into the main house, Jacob wouldn't be moving into the tack room in the barn. He laid down on his bed and listened to the rain hit the tin roof.

And if that wasn't enough, now the townspeople were talking about Rebecca and him. As far as he knew, neither of them had given them reason to talk. Seth sighed. Jacob felt as if he needed to protect his mother's reputation but really wasn't able to.

Frustration gnawed at his gut. If he didn't need the money to find Charlotte, Seth would move on. He didn't need this family's problems and he certainly never intended to cause them more. Drawing on the only source that had sustained him the past couple of years, Seth closed his eyes and prayed that God would provide a way to keep Rebecca's reputation free of harm and that God would help him find Charlotte so that he could return home to St. Joseph.