Pony Express Courtship (9 page)

Well, that was good to know. Seth nodded his understanding and then turned to leave. The man laid a hand on his arm. He looked at him. With a nod of his head toward the old-timers playing checkers, the man said in a low voice, “But there is nothing to stop you from asking around.”

Seth grinned. “Thank you. I think I will see how the game is going.”

The man nodded once and dropped his hand. “Thank you for coming in. If you ever need help opening an account, come on back in.”

The two men looked up when Seth approached their table. “Good morning, gentlemen. I was wondering if either of you could tell me where Mrs. Miller lives. My name is Seth Armstrong and I'm supposed to pick up her and Mrs. Young this morning, but I forgot to get the address from Jacob.”

One of the men held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Armstrong. I'm Caleb Smith and this is my brother-in-law, Marcus Boyd.” He returned to his game.

Seth leaned against the wall and waited. Sometimes older fellas wanted time to think about their next move both in life and while playing a game. Mr. Boyd jumped two of Mr. Smith's pieces.

With a grin, he looked up at Seth. “She lives behind the bank here. Her house is the one with the windows boarded up. I saw that landlord of hers boarding them up this morning. Just go to the end of the block and turn left. You won't miss it.” He returned his focus to the game.

“Much obliged.” Seth walked out of the bank.

The bright sunshine felt good on his face. He hurried to the livery and climbed aboard the wagon. If all went well, he'd have the ladies out to the farm by dinnertime.

As the horses rounded the corner, he saw Rebecca carrying a box to the edge of the street. He waved at her as he set the brake.

“Good morning, Mr. Armstrong.”

Mr. Armstrong? Seth didn't like that. “Good morning, Mrs. Young.” He frowned, not liking how that sounded any better.

“We're just about done packing,” she said as she turned to walk back to the house. “I thought Jacob or Andrew would be coming for us.”

Seth jumped down from the wagon and caught up with her. “I had Pony Express business to take care of.”

“Are you finished with your business?” she asked, turning to face him.

“No, I wanted to find you first.” Seth looked down into her pretty blue eyes. He should have taken care of ordering the saddles and tack before searching for her. Confusion filled his mind as he questioned his own motives for coming to her first.

“Why?”

That was the question of the moment, wasn't it? His gaze moved to the wagon. “I thought you might like to have the wagon to start loading up Mrs. Miller's things.”

“Oh. Well. That was very sweet of you,” she answered, though her expression made him think she doubted that was what he'd intended.

“I'll go take care of my business and then come back and help you finish loading,” he offered.

Mrs. Miller came out of the kitchen. She smiled at Seth.

“Hello.”

He nodded at her, tipping his hat. She was a plump little woman with graying brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. Seth fought the urge to stare. She reminded him of his grandmother. A lump the size of river bedrock clogged his throat and he quickly turned away from the women. “I'll be back shortly.” He was surprised that his vocal chords worked at all. He hurried away and couldn't get away from them fast enough. His heart felt as if someone had plunged a knife through it. He'd thought he was done grieving for the woman who raised him, but he was wrong.

He walked to the livery with a heavy heart. Seeing Mrs. Miller made him realize that he needed to finish his job with the Pony Express so he could find the mail-order bride he'd promised his grandmother he'd marry. He had to get away from the family that made him long to be a part of them.

Chapter Nine

A
few days later, Rebecca happily baked sugar cookies in the kitchen while Joy played on the rug in the living room. The little girl had helped to make the batter and shape the sweet treats, but for the actual baking process, Rebecca insisted that she do it alone.

Fay sat at the table reading her Bible. Every so often the older woman would say “Amen.” Or “Yes, yes, Lord.” Rebecca knew she wasn't talking to her, but to her Bible and God. It hadn't taken Rebecca long to learn that Fay had a true love for their Lord. She prayed that someday she'd have the same strong convictions as Fay. Oh, Rebecca loved the Lord, but knew she failed Him in many ways.

Having Fay around the house had turned into a wonderful blessing. The older woman pitched in with the chores and meal preparation. She helped the boys if they needed something done, such as mending a sock or washing a shirt. And could the woman ever cook! What a blessing that was to Rebecca. She thanked the Lord she no longer had to eat her own cooking all the time.

At first, she'd been worried about how the kids would adapt to Fay moving in, but they all welcomed her with open arms. Fay said she enjoyed having them around and helping out around the house.

“What time will the stage arrive?” Fay asked, looking up from her Bible.

Rebecca glanced at the clock that sat beside the stove. “In about thirty minutes. Mr. Bromley sent a new schedule and it said around one.” She looked at the plates of cookies and the sandwiches. “Do you think I should offer hot tea for the ladies?”

Fay shrugged. “If you have it, it can't hurt.” A grin split her face. “I wouldn't mind having a cup myself.”

“Then I'll make a pot.” Rebecca pulled her other coffeepot from under the cabinet and poured fresh water into it. John had spoiled her years ago by purchasing the extra pot. Every day she found some way to remember him.

As she made the tea, Rebecca allowed her thoughts to linger on her deceased husband. When she'd taken the job here on the farm as his mother's helper, she'd never dreamed they'd end up married. John's father had wanted his son married before he passed on and since Rebecca was the only gal around who was close to his age, John had offered to marry her when his mother died. By doing so, he'd fulfilled his father's wish and made sure that Rebecca would always be cared for. They had been good friends, and even though they weren't in love, he'd made sure she was happy. Somewhere along the way she supposed it might have turned into a deep love, the valuable kind, because how could you not love someone that forever put your happiness above his own. And he'd done that with everyone connected to him—the boys, Rebecca and most certainly the child of his heart, Joy.

Coffee wasn't a beverage Rebecca enjoyed, but, tea? She could drink her weight in tea. As the water heated, Rebecca realized that somewhere in the past few months, she'd given up her favorite beverage. Was it because making it reminded her of all that she'd lost? Or was it simply that until now, she'd had precious little time to think about her own likes and desires? Raising seven boys and a little girl left no time for oneself. In fact, it took all her time and energy.

She turned her attention back to Fay. The older woman had gone back to reading the Bible. “What passage are you reading today?”

Fay looked up. “The Book of Job.” Her eyes took on a faraway look as she stared out the kitchen window. “That man has always fascinated me. He lost everything but his faith.” She looked to Rebecca once more. “Faith is the strongest thing we have in our possession. Man can take everything else, but he can never take our faith in God. Never lose faith, Rebecca, and God will restore what has been taken from you.”

The sound of the stagecoach pulling up in front of the house had both women jumping to their feet.

“It's early,” Rebecca gasped. Grabbing the platter of sandwiches and cookies, she hurried to the sitting room and placed them on the sideboard she'd arranged for just that purpose.

Fay joined her a moment later, with serving plates and several cups.

“Thank you, Fay,” Rebecca said as she hurried back to the kitchen for the coffee and tea. Silently she prayed,
Lord, please let this go well.

Joy stood on the rug now, wringing her little hands together. She looked at her mother with concern etched on her sweet features.

Rebecca stopped and reassured her daughter. “Joy, there is no reason you can't stay in here and play if that's what you want to do.”

Joy smiled. “Thank you, Ma.” She slipped back down onto the rug.

What had caused Joy to become so tense at the arrival of the stage? Rebecca picked up both the tea and the coffeepot and hurried back to the sitting room. She made a mental note that after things settled down, she would ask her daughter about her reaction.

“Would you like for me to open the door?” Fay asked.

Rebecca set down the pots. She glanced up at the sign she'd created earlier in the day that had the prices of the food and beverages posted—sandwiches, five cents; two cookies, one cent; a cup of coffee, two cents. Fay had assured her that the prices were reasonable.

She turned around and smoothed out her apron over her dress. “Yes, please.” Rebecca held her breath as icy air entered the room.

“Please, come on inside and warm up,” Fay called to the passengers.

Two women and a man hurried into the warm room. They stopped just inside the doorway.

“Come on inside.” Rebecca motioned for them to come sit down on the sofa and chairs.

She looked around the room, trying to see it as they would for the first time. The fireplace had a hearty fire roaring in it. The plush couch and chairs sat on each side of the fire, creating a rectangle. In between them was a small table that sat upon a light-colored rug. To her it felt cozy; what did it feel and look like to them?

The women hurried into the room, each taking a spot on the couch. They pulled their cloaks tightly about their bodies. They looked as if they were mother and daughter. Both had light blond hair and blue eyes. They were thin with pinched lips. “Thank you,” the eldest said.

The gentleman moved closer to the fireplace and stood beside it. “That coffee smells wonderful.”

Rebecca wasn't sure how to say that it was for sale. She glanced at Fay, who seemed to understand.

“Mrs. Young makes the best coffee in the whole territory,” Fay proclaimed. “And she offers the fairest prices for the cup, too.” She walked over to the sideboard and pointed up to the sign.

After reading it, the gentleman moved forward. He dropped several coins into the tin cup she'd placed on the sideboard for money and picked up a plate. “What kind of sandwiches are these, Mrs. Young?” he asked, placing one on his plate and then taking a cup of freshly poured coffee from Fay.

“Egg salad. The dressing is fresh. I made it just this morning,” she answered.

The eldest woman stood. She dug in her purse and pulled out several coins.

Rebecca smiled. “What can I get for you?” she asked as the woman dropped her money into the cup.

“I'd like a sandwich. I've never acquired a taste for coffee.” She wrinkled her nose as if the smell displeased her.

“We also have hot tea,” Fay said, waving her hand to indicate the second pot.

A smile broke out over the woman's face. “Now, tea I could drink all day.” She dropped more coins into the cup.

Soon all three of the passengers were munching on sandwiches and drinking from Rebecca's best china. She felt a moment of pride that the ladies and gentleman were enjoying her small serving of food.

Cold air filled the room as the stagecoach driver entered the house. “I think the weather's getting worse, folks. We need to get back on the road.”

He was a skinny man who didn't appear to be over five foot three inches tall. Did stagecoach drivers have to be of small stature, like Pony Express riders? She hurried toward him. “Why don't you come in for a quick cup of coffee and a sandwich?” she asked, directing him toward the sideboard.

A worried expression covered his face. Maybe he didn't have the extra money for such things. If she wanted him to linger, she'd have to make it worth his while. “For the coach drivers, the coffee and meal are on the house, Mr....”

“Alexander, ma'am.” He hurried to the food and scooped up a sandwich.

Fay poured him a cup of the coffee.

In two bites the sandwich was gone and the coffee gulped down. “Thanks for the grub, ma'am.” He motioned to the passengers. “Time to load up. We leave in two minutes.” Mr. Alexander stomped across the floor and jerked open the door. Cold air rushed inside.

Fay chuckled. “Well, he's in a mighty big hurry.”

The male passenger put his cup in the washtub that Rebecca had supplied and grinned. “I'd like to buy a couple of those cookies, Mrs. Young. If they are nearly as good as the sandwich, I'll be a very happy man.”

Rebecca smiled her thanks, then quickly placed two of the biggest cookies into a cloth bag. She heard his coins hit the others in the cup.

He took the bag with a nod and then proceeded toward the door.

The two women, who had spoken quietly to each other during their short meal, hurriedly stood. The older one ordered, “Mr. James, wait just a moment and we'll go out with you. There is no reason to open that door more than we have to.” She placed her dishes into the tub and also dropped money into the tin. “I'm sure Mrs. Young doesn't enjoy the cold air that comes in every time it's opened.” She looked pointedly at the man then turned back to Rebecca. “I'd like two more sandwiches, to go. Me and my daughter still have a long journey ahead of us and I'm sure we'll find no better meals than the one you've provided today.”

“Thank you.” Rebecca reached for another bag and placed one sandwich inside. “Do you want them together or separate?” she asked, reaching for another bag.

“One bag is plenty.”

She nodded, put the second sandwich with the first and handed the bag to the woman, who took it and then walked toward the other two passengers.

Just as the man started to open the door, Rebecca remembered her promise to Seth. “Oh!”

They all three turned and looked at her startled.

“I'm sorry, I just remembered I promised to ask if any of you ever met a woman named Charlotte Fisher,” Rebecca blurted out.

The two women shook their heads and the man answered, “Can't say that I have.”

“Well, thank you.” Rebecca walked toward them and closed the door as they left.

She turned to find Fay standing behind her. “I'll have to say, that went well.” Fay patted her on the arm.

As Rebecca cleared the sideboard, she had to agree with Fay. They'd sold four cookies, one cup of coffee, two teas and five sandwiches. She added the money up in her head—that was thirty-three cents.

Fay picked up the dirty dishpan and headed to the kitchen. “You did good, Rebecca. But you have to get braver in telling them your prices.” A teasing glint filled the older woman's eyes just before she disappeared into the kitchen.

Rebecca decided to split the money with Fay. The woman had helped her make the food and created the prices. Plus, at this rate, Rebecca felt she could be generous.

She scooped up the two plates of leftovers and headed back to the kitchen. Rebecca dreaded telling Seth that the passengers hadn't heard of Charlotte. Would he be terribly disappointed? Earlier he'd reminded her to ask. She cared about Seth—what would his reaction be should a passenger know her or her whereabouts? Would he leave them quickly? Or would he hesitate? After all, he'd never met Charlotte. A part of Rebecca dreaded that day. She told herself it was because she liked Seth and didn't want to see him hurt. Not because she was getting used to having him around and would miss him when he left.

* * *

Seth pointed the rifle at Clayton as he passed on his horse. The boy leaned across the side of the horse as if dodging a bullet. “Pkew!” Seth made the sound of a shooting gun and lowered the weapon.

Rebecca yelled behind him, “Have you lost your mind?” She came running across the pasture looking madder than a hornet. Her blue eyes blazed and her cloak flew around her.

When she came even with him, Seth answered, “No.” Then he turned his attention to the thundering hooves that were fast approaching.

Noah came across his path. Once more Seth raised the gun.

Rebecca screamed and made a grab for the rifle. “Seth, stop!”

He lowered the weapon and faced her. “Rebecca, we are training here.”

“You could kill him.”

He shook his head. Didn't she trust him yet? Each night for over two weeks he told her what he'd done during the day and what he was planning for the next day. Fay would listen at the window and every once in a while they'd hear the older lady chuckle at Rebecca's many questions. He'd been patient but she had to let him do his job.

Trying to conceal his aggravation, Seth answered, “Not likely, Rebecca. The gun's not loaded, but don't tell them that—they need to believe the threat is real. I am teaching them how to avoid getting shot using their horses as shields.”

Rebecca turned on her heels and marched back toward the house. Seth watched her go. Would she ever trust him with her boys? He'd hoped she'd realized that he wouldn't intentionally allow harm to come to them. Maybe she needed more than a couple of weeks.

The thought came to him, could he ever fall in love? Would he ever trust a woman not to leave him? Seth shook his head. That was nonsense thinking. Or was it?

His fondness for Rebecca was like a wild plant that was growing every day. Leaving her and the boys would probably be the hardest thing he'd ever have to do but he'd do it. He had made a promise to his grandmother and no matter how badly he might want to stay with the Young family, he couldn't.