Carla Kelly (21 page)

“I'm sorry I frightened you,” she said quietly. “I had a tough time on the Double Tipi last September, and it's been hard to let go of it.” Her hand went automatically to the scar on her neck. “I'll be forever in your debt for this house. You're welcome here always. Paul?”

“I agree with everything my lady said.” To her heart's delight, he almost caressed the two words. “You're always welcome here. One thing is different: we're going to ask a blessing on the food. We'll do it at every meal, so just get used to it.”

“You're watching them eat,” Paul whispered to her when Charlotte passed around the second tray of biscuits.

“Almost my favorite thing.”

“It used to be your favorite thing.”

“Hush! My priorities have shifted. Don't you laugh, Mr. Otto, or it'll be my favorite thing again.”

“Ouch.” He pulled back his chair and held out his hand. “Walk with me, Darling. We haven't seen the second floor of this mansion yet.” He looked around the table. “There's more stew, and Julia's promised cinnamon rolls and bacon and eggs in the morning.”

They went slowly up the stairs as Julia admired the banister. “Mr. Rudiger's work?”

“Yeah. When I was outside, he said he told everyone what to do and kept the finish work for his team. He said they did it all room by room. The only room you didn't see downstairs was my office. They're painting it this evening.” He put his forehead against hers. “And then they'll put in some wonderful book cases someone bought in Salt Lake. I believe there's a desk, too.”

“Nothing's too good for the man who keeps me in flour, lard, and baking powder,” Julia pointed out. “And maraschino cherries.”

The first room was their bedroom. Julia touched the brass bedstead and nodded to see how well the bureaus and wardrobe fit. Mentally, she installed the floor-length mirror—provided it wasn't broken and dead in the livery stable—her smaller rocking chair, and a hope chest.

“Matt will take most of the builders down to Gun Barrel tomorrow and bring back your things. They'll look good spread around here.”

“Especially Iris's double wedding ring quilt.”

“Yep. It's time we got under that again,” Paul said, taking her hand. “I am so ready to not do any more traveling for a long time.”

“Until the spring cow gather next month?” she teased.

He groaned. “One week away from you! Want to come along?”

“We'll see.”

They looked in the other three bedrooms, all of them filled now with bedrolls and clothing from the building crew, along with the beds and dressers she had bought. She looked at Paul, and then glanced away, shy again.

“What?”

“I almost—almost but not quite—bought a crib,” she said.

“Why didn't you?” he asked, his arm around her waist now. “It might prove useful. Just saying.”

“Iris had baby furniture, and Spencer had to get rid of it all.” She rubbed her arms. “I'm not superstitious, but I'm not one to tempt fate. We can buy them later, if we need them.”

“We will.”

“You're so sure of yourself, cowboy?”

“You got that right.”

Her hand in his, she let Paul lead her back to their room. “Boss's orders, sport. Charlotte and Matt—he insisted—will clean up downstairs. I have a few more things to do. Your job right now is to go to bed. It's been some day.”

She didn't argue. She made him stay long enough for prayer, then kissed him and pointed him to the door.

He opened the door and looked back at her. “My side's the one closest to the door,” he said.

“And why is that?”

“Something my father said. ‘Maybe you'll find a wife someday,’ he told me. ‘When you do, always keep yourself between her and the door.’ You're safe with me, sport.”

“I already knew that,” she said softly.

Julia slept soundly all night, only waking up to mutter something incoherent when Paul came to bed. When she woke, he was doing what he usually did, sitting in the chair pulled to the bed with his feet propped on it, reading the Book of Mormon.

“You were tired, sport,” he said, after he closed the book. “You didn't even flinch when I put
my
cold feet on your legs.”

She sat up. “I promised everyone cinnamon rolls this morning. I'd better get cracking.”

She looked around the room, still delighted with what she saw. “I'm glad I didn't wake up in the tack room and find all this just a dream. We're pretty lucky, Paul.”

Her husband just smiled and opened his book again.

She was soon at work, dough rising in the warming oven. Walking quietly to avoid waking Charlotte, she looked in the one room off the kitchen she hadn't seen last night, pleased to see a bathing room with a tin tub. A washstand with pitcher, bowl, mirror, and leather strop completed the room.

If I’ d wanted indoor plumbing, I’ d have married a banker
, she thought, satisfied.

As she prepared the filling for the cinnamon rolls, gradually the house came awake. The Marlowes had left for their own property after supper, with a promise from Alice to bring some eggs in a few days. Julia heard footsteps overhead from the other bedrooms, and doors opening and closing downstairs from the parlor and Paul's office.

Rubbing her eyes, Charlotte Who Counts came into the kitchen. With a shy smile at Julia, she filled the well-seasoned coffee pot with water from the pump at the sink and set it on the Queen Atlantic. Julia put her to work slicing bacon.

After the cinnamon rolls were in the oven, and the bacon chuckling in the frying pan, Julia went through the kitchen, opening all of Mr. Rudiger's lovely cabinets, just to see what was inside. Mentally she thanked the Relief Society for the goods, in addition to what she had bought and shipped ahead, and Alice for putting everything right where she would have put it.

Julia was admiring the row of gleaming canisters when Paul came up behind her, grabbed her around the waist, and nuzzled her neck with his day-old beard. She shrieked, which made Charlotte laugh and look away, covering her mouth.

“Like it?” he whispered into her ear, which made her take a deep breath, and another.

“It's better after you shave,” she whispered back, moving his hand back to her waist, since Charlotte was in the kitchen.

“I mean the kitchen, sport. Jee-rusalem Crickets, but you get wild thoughts when a guy sneaks up.” After a pat on her rump, Paul took his shaving gear into the bathing room.

Embarrassed, Julia glanced at Charlotte, who made no attempt to hide her smile. “Boys will be boys,” she said.

Charlotte turned over more bacon. “Mrs. Otto, my cousin Paul never smiled all winter. I like this cousin better.”

Julia brought Paul some hot water from the Queen, amused to see him standing there, his clothes pulled down to his waist, looking at his face with a frown.

“
I
think you're handsome enough for general purposes, Romeo,” she said, tipping the water into the china bowl.

He pointed to a red welt on his neck. “
You
did that in the Plainsman Hotel.”

“And you enjoyed every moment!” Julia laughed and closed the door on him. In another minute, he was singing “Redeemer of Israel.”
I need to enlarge his musical repertoire
, she thought.
The Lord will think he's being disrespectful, shaving to “Redeemer of Israel
.” For a long moment she just leaned against the door, feeling contentment cover her like a down quilt. “Keep singing,” she murmured. “I love it.”

Breakfast was eaten in the usual silence she expected from stockmen, Charlotte circling the table a time or two with the coffee pot, and the four pans of cinnamon rolls gone in record time. The only comment came from Doc. “Julia, do you ever break the yolk on a fried egg?”

“I wouldn't dare,” she said, passing him the bacon. “You've never known fear until you've fried eggs with Miss Farmer glaring at you, with that clipboard!”

The men laughed, and she looked around the table, satisfied. Everyone was eating, and no one looked wary this morning.

“I want you to know, I missed you all,” she said simply, touching her cheek to Paul's hand on her shoulder.

While Charlotte cleared the table, she went down the hall with Paul and President Gillespie to admire the new office. At Julia's urging, Paul sat in the chair behind his new desk. He leaned back cautiously, and his smile widened as the swivel chair obliged.

“Nice chair, Darling.”

“It spins around too, if you get bored.”

“How would you know?”

“I tried it out. Got a little dizzy.”

“You ever plan to grow up?”

“Not now. You married me anyway.”

Julia heard the wagon outside. “Matt's ready to haul away the Sunday School,” she said. She held out her hand to President Gillespie. “I don't know when we've been so blessed,” she told him. “I appreciate everyone's sacrifice of time and effort.”

He took her hand and looked at both of them. “I've never made an easier call for help in a meeting! I was hoping one or two of the men could get away for such a length of time, but everyone came forward. Some came the first week, and the rest the second week.” He laughed. “Brother Shumway said that Cheyenne's automobile owners could fix their own flat tires for two weeks. Brother Larsen prayed for a cold spell in case the other mortician in town was too busy!”

“And you were probably here for the whole thing,” Paul suggested.

“It was easy, Brother Otto. I work for myself, same as you do. We were all well aware of your long winter, helping your fellow ranchers round up strays. We're here to help each other.”

Julia stood taller and kissed President Gillespie's cheek. “That's for Emma. You'd better hurry home, but if I know Emma, she would have been upset if you hadn't done this.”

“You know Emma,” President Gillespie agreed. He glanced at Paul. “Brother Otto, if she's agreeable, how about you and I bless this little lady?”

How did I manage so long last year without this?
Julia asked herself as she bowed her head under the gentle pressure of hands on her head from a man she admired and a man she adored. She breathed deep as Paul blessed her with peace of mind and assurance as she began married life on the Double Tipi. “Let her know, Father, how much she is loved by her husband and admired by the people she meets every day,” he concluded. “Grant her courage to endure the hard moments, and the knowledge that her welfare is uppermost in my mind, and in Thy plan.”

When he finished, he kissed the top of her head. “The view looks a bit different behind the desk, doesn't it? Stay there a moment. President Gillespie has some paperwork for you to sign.”

“Business?”

President Gillespie pulled out a document and placed it in front of her. “This is the agreement your husband and Charles McLemore already signed, which entitles Mr. McLemore to a year's assistance to rebuild his herd.”

Julia picked up the document and read it. She looked up, a question in her eyes. “You know I agree with all this. It's generous and kind.”

“Will you sign it too?” Paul asked. “You're my partner now. I want your signature.”

Julia thought about their visit to the banker last year, when he insisted on a countersign from Mr. Otto because she was a single female, and Mr. Otto was her employer and responsible for her. “You're thinking about that banker, aren't you?”

“A little. You are my partner now, Julia. We're in this Double Tipi gamble together. Sign away, sport. If I lose my shirt, you lose yours.”

She did as he said, realizing this was the first time she had signed her name as Julia Otto. She gave an extra flourish to the final
o
. “I'll have to practice my double T's,” she said, blowing on her signature.

President Gillespie took the document. “I'll register it and give you a copy next time I see you two in Cheyenne. I'll send you a telegram after Emma has the baby. Paul, Emma and I want you to stand in the circle when we bless the baby.” He winked at Julia. “Let's give the man a little practice, eh?”

Her arm around her husband's waist, Julia waved good-bye to the wagonload of home builders and cabinet makers, watching until they were out of sight.

“Rudiger and his crew are coming back this fall to build a new bunkhouse,” Paul said, as he stood with her on the front porch. “Have a seat, sport.”

She sat with him in the porch swing. “What will you do with the old one?”

“I was going to just tear it down or burn it, but Doc had a better idea. Tell me what you think. After a thorough cleaning and a paint job, and then some interior walls, we could turn that into a nice house for a ranch foreman and his wife.”

“Charlotte and Matt? I wondered.”

“That's the way the wind's been blowing all winter.” He tightened his grip on her shoulder. “Can't say I didn't envy them here, all careful and so aware of each other. Of course, he has to work up the nerve to propose. Malloy's so shy he makes me look like Casanova.”

“What about Doc?” Julia asked, her eyes still on the horse corral, as Paul pushed the swing idly.

“You planning to pair up the whole ranch?”

“Why not? I told him last Christmas to take over Dr. Beck's practice in Gun Barrel, so you know I'm a busy-body,” she reminded him.

“Different story there, I think,” he said after more swinging. “Doc's never offered much, and I don't ask.”

“I wonder if she's remarried.”

“Don't know, and it's none of my business.”

She nodded, aware of the implication. “Not mine, either, I know. Maybe I just want everyone to be happy.” She kissed Paul and rested her head against his chest as he continued pushing the swing slowly with one foot.

He finally stopped the swing. “I could sit here with you all morning, but duty calls. We're heading north to look over the boys and girls. And then we'll check some of my late-blooming mares that haven't foaled yet. Back to business.”

“Home for lunch?”

“Nope. Could my best girl make some sandwiches?”

“I'll see if she's around and willing,” Julia joked and was unprepared for the kiss Paul gave her, his hand firm in her hair.

“She's willing,” he murmured, his lips against hers. “Tell her to hold that thought until this evening, okay?”