Pony Express Courtship (7 page)

Chapter Seven

A
fter dinner, Seth walked out to the front porch. The rain had stopped but it had brought a chilling wind. He wrapped his coat tighter around his body and sat down on the porch swing. The sound of kids laughing and talking loudly caused him to grin. Even though the Young kids weren't related, they behaved very much like brothers and sister.

Over the meal, Rebecca had told them all that not only was the farm a Pony Express station, but now it was also a stage stop. She explained that twice a week the stage would stop there and she and Joy would sell things like sandwiches, cookies and beverages to the passengers. The boys had asked questions and Rebecca had answered each of them with more patience than Seth thought he could ever exhibit. Joy excitedly told her brothers how much Mr. Bromley had enjoyed her cookies. Seth had to admit that he'd felt a bit like an outsider.

Even now, sitting on the porch, he longed to join in but felt he had nothing to contribute. After he found and married Charlotte, would he then feel like part of a family? With no brothers or sisters, Seth had grown up an only child. His mother had abandoned him and his father when he was very young. Grandmother always said his pa had died of a broken heart. Seth gleaned from the retelling that women couldn't be trusted and loving one would break your heart and kill you. As an adult, he didn't believe that his dad literally died of a broken heart, but Seth did know that women couldn't be trusted. If it wasn't for his grandmother, he'd not be on this wild-goose chase looking for a woman who'd probably simply changed her mind about marriage.

“So this is where you got off to,” Rebecca said, coming through the front door. She wore a light brown dress and her blue cloak covered most of it.

The swing rocked gently under her slight weight as she sat. He grinned over at her. “Yes, it's a little quieter out here.”

At that moment, Joy let out a loud squeal and Rebecca laughed. “Yes, they are a mite keyed up tonight. It's probably from being cooped up most of the day.”

If she hadn't said it, he would have. “Joy is very excited about the stage stopping here,” he said as the little girl's voice drifted through the window.

“Yes, she wants to make all the cookies we sell.” Rebecca pulled her cloak tighter about her middle.

“She told me she'd read a recipe that had nuts in it that she wanted to try. I didn't know she could read,” he said, looking over at his pretty companion.

“Oh, she can a little, but mostly she calls looking at pictures reading.” Rebecca smiled proudly. “But she'll be reading real books in no time.”

Seth cocked his head to one side and studied her profile. She pushed back a wayward strand of dark hair, her fingers strong and slim, her face a perfect oval. She had a strength that did not lessen her femininity one bit and she carried herself confidently. The wind lifted one of her curls and his eyes followed the movement, making it difficult to concentrate on her words. No woman had affected him like Rebecca seemed to.

She looked at him expectantly and he reined in his thoughts to their conversation. After a moment he said, “I'm sure she will be reading soon. Joy's a very bright child. She's old enough to go to school now, isn't she?” As casually as possible, he stood and walked to the porch rail.

The smile slipped from her face and sadness filled her voice. “John and I had talked about letting her start this fall.” She sighed heavily. “I think I'll continue with our plans and let her attend. Even though I hate letting my baby go.”

Seth didn't know what to say. He hadn't meant to make her sad.

As if she realized her mood had changed the atmosphere around them, Rebecca offered him a bright smile that didn't quite meet her eyes. “So, did you and Mr. Bromley have a nice visit this afternoon?”

“We did. He gave us extra money to buy the barn supplies and seemed pleased with the boys' progress. Not a bad visit at all.” Seth knew his words echoed his thoughts from earlier in the day.

“I'm glad.” She paused then asked, “What do you think about the stage stopping here? You didn't say a word during dinner about it.” She worried her bottom lip with her pretty white teeth.

“I think it's a great idea,” he answered. He'd had a thought earlier and maybe now was the time to ask Rebecca for a favor. Before he could mention it, she spoke.

“If the offer still stands, I need to go into town tomorrow after all. I don't have enough ingredients to make cookies and I'd like to pick up some tea. Ladies seem to like tea more than coffee, I think.”

Seth remembered Jacob's words about the townsfolk talking about them. He'd planned on going for the needed supplies but now thought he'd send Jacob instead. “The offer still stands. I'll ask Jacob to hitch up the wagon in the morning.”

“Thank you.” She started to get up.

“Before you go inside, I'd like to ask a favor of you,” Seth blurted out, afraid she'd leave and he'd lose his nerve.

Rebecca eased back into the swing. “All right.”

He took a deep breath. “I know you don't know me very well and I probably shouldn't even ask, but since the stage is coming through here, it might be a good opportunity.” Why did he feel so breathless?

Caution filled her voice as she asked, “What might be a good opportunity?”

Seth rolled his shoulders and started again. “Let me start at the beginning. A few months ago my grandmother asked me to find a nice girl and get married.” He saw the shock on her face and held up his hand. “Hold on, let me finish.”

At her nod, he continued, “So I placed an ad for a mail-order bride.” Seth watched her relax and pressed on. “My grandmother's dying wish was that I get married.”

Rebecca asked, “Why would she ask you to get married, if she was dying?”

“She didn't want to leave me without anyone to take care of me...love me, I guess you could say. Anyway, now that my grandmother has passed on, I have no other relatives that I know of.” Seth glanced at her face to see if she understood.

Rebecca nodded. “That makes sense. Did you get a mail-order bride?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Yes and no.”

A frown creased the center of her brow. “I don't understand.”

Seth grinned. “Maybe I should just tell you everything and then let you ask questions.” He hoped she heard the teasing in his voice and didn't think him rude.

Rebecca smoothed out her skirt and nodded. “That might work best.” A tiny smile tilted up one corner of her mouth and she shook her head. “Although, men are not always the best at storytelling.”

“Agreed.” He wondered if she knew how easy she was to talk to. He'd never told his story to anyone, yet here he stood eager for her input. “Yes, a young woman answered my ad. Her name is Charlotte Fisher. She wrote and said she'd be on the first stage to St. Joseph, only she never arrived. Grandmother died but not before she made me promise to find Charlotte.” He stopped and inhaled the cold night air. “I have been looking for Charlotte ever since.” His gaze searched Rebecca's. Sadness filled her sweet face, only this time he could see that she wasn't sad for herself, but for him and his loss.

He pressed on with his story. “A few weeks ago while traveling alone, three men held me up and took all my money. When I filed a report with the town sheriff, I told him I needed work that would let me travel and keep me close to the stage route at the same time. He mentioned the Pony Express that had just started up. I found Mr. Bromley and he hired me. The rest you know. That's why I work for the Pony Express—to make money so I can continue my search for Charlotte.” He eased back against the porch rail. Seth couldn't remember the last time he'd talked this much.

“So, no honorable intentions to see that the mail gets through?”

He stiffened at the challenge in her voice, but boldly lifted his chin and met her gaze. Only to stare tongue-tied. She had a hand pressed to her mouth to stifle the giggles threatening to escape. In spite of himself he chuckled.

“If you could only have seen your face when I said that.”

“I thought you were judging my intentions.”

“How could I judge your intentions when I'm doing the same thing?”

He quirked a brow at her. “How so?”

“My reasons for accepting the stage stop have nothing to do with the mail. It serves several purposes and all of them are personal.” Her expression stilled and grew serious. “So, how can I help you?”

Seth had difficulty pulling his gaze away from hers. “Well, the stage runs both east and west, which means that Charlotte is probably somewhere along the line. Last I heard from her she was coming from California. What I'd like to ask you to do is each time the stage stops here to inquire if anyone knows her and, if so, where I can find her?”

Rebecca nodded. “I'm not sure that will work but I'm more than happy to help you any way I can.” She stood and stretched. “I'm tired and if we're going to town, I'd like to leave right after breakfast.”

“Oh, and one more thing before you go.” Seth pushed away from the porch railing. When she turned to face him, he asked, “Did Jacob tell you I want him to move into the barn's tack room?”

“No, but that's understandable,” she offered.

Seth was pleased that Rebecca wasn't going to fight him on this move. “I'm glad you don't object.”

“I'll talk to him. There really is no reason for him to stay in the house with me and the younger kids.” She reached for the door and then stopped and turned to face him once more. “Is there anything else?”

He shook his head. “Not tonight. Thank you, Rebecca. For everything.” Seth realized he'd used her Christian name and quickly bounded off the porch. What had possessed him to become so personal with her? He couldn't slip up like that again. Even though he did enjoy the way her name tripped off his lips, with ease and satisfaction. No, it wouldn't—or rather, it couldn't—happen again.

* * *

Rebecca hadn't slept well. She'd wrestled with the fact that Seth had used her given name and she certainly hadn't minded. If anything, she'd liked the way her name sounded when he said it. All night she'd fought with herself. Should she ask him not to use her Christian name? Or pretend it wasn't a big deal?

“Ma, is everything all right?” Jacob asked. He guided the horses over the muddy road, careful to avoid all potholes. Concern filled his face.

“Everything's fine. I was just thinking about my supply list,” she answered, attempting to smile at him.

They rode in silence for a few moments. Then Jacob spoke. “Seth wants me to move into the barn's tack room. I planned on asking Andrew to move into the house with you and the little ones.” He grinned over his shoulder at Benjamin and Joy.

She knew her son thought himself her chaperone, but regardless of what he said, the townsfolk would continue to talk. Silently she prayed that the Lord would send an answer to this problem. “That's not necessary, Jacob. I can take care of things in the house,” Rebecca answered.

Jacob started to argue but then clamped his lips shut. He focused on the road ahead.

“If he's moving out, does that mean I get to move out, too?” Benjamin asked, pulling himself up on his knees and clutching the wooden seat Rebecca and Jacob sat upon.

Rebecca frowned. “No, you stay in the house. We need at least one man watching over us, don't you think?” she asked, eyeing her eight-year-old son, hoping that he'd not realize she stroked his ego to get him to do what she wanted.

Benjamin puffed out his chest. “Oh, I hadn't thought of that. I suppose you're right.”

The rest of the trip passed quietly. Jacob and Rebecca were each lost in their own thoughts. Benjamin and Joy played school in the bed of the wagon. He took his role as big brother seriously as he read to her out of one of her picture books.

Their stops at the leather and lumberyard were pretty uneventful. Jacob had no trouble acquiring the needed bridles and saddles. He'd learned from the lumberman that one of his neighbors may have extra hay for sale, at least enough for them until the Pony Express supply wagon came out to the farm.

Rebecca dreaded stopping in at the general store. If there were any other stores in town that supplied household items, she would very easily switch her business to them. But there wasn't. She stood to climb down from the wagon but Jacob placed a hand on her arm. “Ma, I'll go get what you need.” He jumped from the wagon and looked up at her expectantly.

She handed him her list. “You sure you don't mind, son?”

He took the list and grinned. “Nope, if these two behave I might use some of my Pony Express wages and get them each a penny candy.”

Benjamin beamed at his little sister. “We'll be good, won't we, Joy?”

She bobbed her head and smiled back.

Jacob stepped onto the boardwalk and entered the store. Rebecca heard the bell announce her son's arrival. She really should have gone herself, but the thought of facing Mr. Edwards left her feeling cold. Her gaze moved to her younger children, who were once more absorbed in the picture book.

Maybe now with the extra income, she could order a few more books for them. When John died, she'd stopped the one-book-a-month shipment she'd intended to use for educating the kids. She alone was responsible for the money John left her and she'd had to learn over the past couple of months how to manage, and though it wasn't necessary to be frugal, John had taught them the Bible's teachings on being a good steward. She needed the money to last so she would never have to seek work and leave Joy alone with strangers.

The sound of the bell ringing over the door to the general store drew her attention away from the children. Fay Miller wiped at her eyes as she closed the door behind her. When she turned to face the street, Rebecca could see that tears ran down her chubby cheeks. Rebecca climbed down the wagon at a fast pace.