Linda Ford (2 page)

“Maude was always so good to visit with when I came to town.” The woman marched toward the dining room. “We would sit in here for—oh my. Seems you’ve had a disaster.”

“A fire,” Hannah repeated.

The woman stared for another moment then returned to the desk. “Well never mind. We can get along without the dining room. But I can’t imagine staying anywhere else. All the other hotels will be crowded with noisy cowboys coming and going at all hours.” She placed her gloves beside Hannah’s clasped hands and leaned toward her. “I’m sure you can find something suitable for a few nights. Can’t you, my dear?”

Hannah looked into brown eyes and sensed the gentleness hid a steely determination. She admired the woman’s perseverance, but she really wasn’t ready for guests. Didn’t know when she would be, in fact. But she was tempted. After all, there was the little problem of finances.

The door flung open again. Could no one read the sign? Closed for repairs meant closed.

She blinked as Jake strode across the room, his boots thudding on the floor. She’d been forced to throw out most of the carpeting, destroyed by mud, water, and smoke, but the boards had polished up nicely if somewhat reluctantly. How had he located her? And why?

He nodded at her before he turned to the other woman. “Mother, what are you doing here? Didn’t you see the sign?” He turned to Hannah. “I’m sorry.”

Hannah nodded, not knowing if he meant sorry his mother had ignored the sign or sorry she owned this damaged hotel. But before she could respond, Mrs. Sperling pressed her hand to her forehead and moaned. Her legs crumpled under her.

Jake swept her into his arms and looked around for a place to lay her. Hannah hurried over and put a cushion at the end of the sofa she’d cleaned and prayed it didn’t still smell like smoke.

Mrs. Sperling’s eyelids fluttered. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Jake rubbed her hands and looked worried. “Mother, I told you to take it easy. You didn’t have to come to town. I can conduct the business on my own.”

Hannah watched the broad hands gentle the smaller, paler ones and remembered her father encouraging her in much the same way. He’d warmed her hands many times when she’d stayed outside too long or sat up too late trying to memorize her schoolwork. But more than his touch, she remembered his words, “Hannah, my daughter, you can do anything you put your mind to.”

The picture inside her head changed. She and her father had been in his store, helping customers. A young man had come in with his mother, speaking so rudely to the woman he’d brought tears to her eyes. Her father waited until they left then said, “Hannah, you can tell a lot about a man by the way he treats his mother. Pay attention to that. It’s the same way he’ll treat his wife.”

Hannah was certain Jake expected complete compliance from the men who worked for him. She remembered the way he’d spoken of the buyers and knew he’d accept no nonsense from men he did business with, either. But if her father was correct, Jake had a tenderness toward his family.

His mother spoke. “You can handle the business. I only came to help spend the money once the business is complete.” She pushed up on her elbow. “I need a new dress and some material for new curtains and. . .”

Jake straightened and frowned at his mother.

The older woman fell back against the cushion and draped her arm over her forehead. “Though I don’t know how I’ll manage it all. I should have insisted Audrey accompany me.” Her voice was as thin as thread.

Jake groaned. “No doubt she’d bring the boys.”

“Of course. Why should you mind? They’re sweet and well behaved.”

Jake sputtered.

Ignoring him, his mother explained to Hannah. “Audrey is my daughter, and she has two little boys.”

“Mother, pull yourself together. We have to find rooms.”

Hannah stared as the woman pressed her palm to her chest. “I’m feeling a little breathless. I’m just too exhausted to find someplace else.” She waited until her son turned away then winked at Hannah.

Hannah almost choked holding back her laughter. Jake might be powerful, obeyed as the boss, but his mother played by her own rules, something Hannah admired.

Jake strode to the dining room door. “This isn’t going to be fixed anytime soon.”

“I’m sure Miss. . .” Mrs. Sperling smiled gently. “I’m sorry, dear, I don’t believe you told me your name.”

“Hannah Williams.”

“Well, Miss Williams, I’m sure you can find us something, can’t you?”

“The dining room—” Jake protested.

“We can eat anywhere we want. But I want to stay here.” The older woman’s voice began strong and then, as if she’d remembered her fragile condition, grew weaker. “I’ve always stayed here, and it just wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t.”

“Mother, you’ll just have to accept—”

Hannah decided then and there a woman so determined to exert her independence should be accommodated. “The suite in the corner upstairs is ready for occupancy. I could let you have it, but, as you can see, there will be no dining available.”

The woman sighed. “Thank you. I’m sure we’ll be very comfortable.”

Jake’s expression darkened. He shot Hannah a look of accusation then faced his mother. “Mother, this is absurd. There are plenty of rooms available in town.”

“But Miss Williams has just offered us rooms here.”

Jake glowered at his mother. Hannah felt the familiar and unwelcome tightening in the pit of her stomach—the same feeling she got when she’d somehow challenged Otto’s authority. Often she didn’t even know what she’d done. Her father had encouraged the very things that brought on Otto’s disapproval, so Hannah was left inadvertently crossing him on many occasions. His anger frightened her. She feared she would drive him to violence. But his sullen silence was even more frightening. It left her wondering when he’d finally punish her and how.

How would Jake deal with being challenged? He exuded power and control in a way that made Otto look insipid. Was Jake the same? Would he demand obedience from his mother? Insist on it? Send her silent messages promising to deal with this matter later—in private?

Mother and son confronted each other. Pressing her advantage, Mrs. Sperling patted her cheeks and managed to look weak and helpless. Something—Hannah was convinced—completely fabricated. Jake continued to look ready to grab his mother and stalk out the door.

Hannah stepped aside, realizing she’d unconsciously moved out of his way, expecting him to mow down anything and anyone in his path.

She jumped when Jake let out an explosion of air. “Very well, but it’s going to be inconvenient to say the least.” He stalked to the door.

Hannah blinked at his departing back.

Mrs. Sperling bounced to her feet. “My bags are at the livery,” she called to her son.

Hannah pulled her thoughts together as best she could, still barely believing Jake had given in so easily. Or had he? Was it just for show? “Aren’t you afraid of making him angry?” She gasped. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate of me.”

But Mrs. Sperling laughed. “He takes himself seriously enough for the both of us. Now tell me, dear, how long have you been in town? How do you like it? Where have you come from? Do you have an address for your grandparents? I’d like to write them.”

Hannah laughed. Obviously Jake’s mother didn’t fear him, but then being his mother would most certainly affect the dynamics.

“I don’t have the rooms ready. If you’ll excuse me, I’d better take care of them.”

Mrs. Sperling trotted after Hannah. “I’ll help you.”

Hannah stopped and faced the woman, her expression suitably serious even though her insides bubbled with amusement. “But I thought you were exhausted.”

The older woman chuckled. “I’ve just experienced a miraculous recovery.”

Hannah laughed with her. “I don’t imagine anyone but you could get away with that.”

Mrs. Sperling’s brown eyes twinkled. “Get away with what?” Side by side, they climbed the stairs.

“I’d guess Jake expects his orders to be followed.”

“He prefers it, I’m sure.”

Hannah understood what wasn’t said. Jake liked to be obeyed. Only his mother got away with defying him.

Two

Jake reined his horse into the street, automatically touching the brim of his hat at several ladies, his thoughts still on his mother. He should have insisted she remain on the ranch. These trips to town were too strenuous for her. Miss Williams failed to realize it or she wouldn’t have allowed his mother to talk her into offering them rooms in her damaged hotel. He should take his mother home immediately, but first he had to find the cattle buyers and negotiate a fair price for his steers. He and the other ranchers had discussed this, decided on what they considered a reasonable price, and agreed to hold out together for it. If they stood unified, no buyer could persuade one of them to undersell the others.

He stopped in front of one of the hotels and thudded across the sidewalk and into the quiet, clean-smelling interior to ask for the buyers and was informed that none of them had registered. He spun out and rode to the next hotel to receive the same response as he did at the third and last hotel in town. He paused to look around the lobby. Muted red carpet patterned with medallions, heavy maroon drapes—a calm, restful atmosphere. If they had to stay in town, why couldn’t his mother have chosen one of these hotels?

Jake suddenly remembered his mother’s request and headed for the livery. At the same time, he’d go by the station to see if the buyers had sent a telegram.

“Silas,” he called as he stepped into the cool interior. “Is there a telegram for me?”

“No sir. I’d’ve found you if there was.”

“You’re sure Mr. Arnold hasn’t sent a message?” Mr. Arnold was the one buyer Jake could count on. He’d been eager to do business with Jake and the others.

“Nothin’. Nothin’ at all.”

“Then they must be on their way.” He’d have to cool his heels until they showed up. Easier said than done. He needed to finish his business and get back to the ranch. Even with Frank in charge, he couldn’t neglect his responsibilities for long and expect things to hang together.

He then went to the livery. He spoke to one of the men working there. “Have my mother’s things sent to the Sunshine Hotel.” He tossed the man a handful of coins.

The worker gaped. “The Sunshine? But it’s—”

Jake didn’t allow him to finish. “Right away. She’s waiting for them.” He returned to his horse and rode to the pens to check on his herd.

Shorty patrolled on the left. On the other side, Jimbo’s horse stood at the fence, but there was no sign of the boy. He’d been warned about keeping his mind on business.

Jake reined his horse to the right and edged around the fence. Jimbo sat on the edge of the wooden trough, his arm around a young girl. “Jimbo,” Jake roared, “I don’t pay you to socialize.”

The boy jerked to his feet, his mouth working. The girl ducked behind him, her eyes wide as a cornered deer’s.

“I’ve warned you—”

“Mr. Sperling, I ain’t been visiting more’n a minute.” The boy’s Adam’s apple bobbled as he swallowed hard. “This here’s my sister, May.” He swallowed noisily again. “I ain’t seen her in three months. She’s been telling me about Ma and Pa and the young ones.”

Jake hesitated. By rights the boy had used up all his chances. It seemed a lifetime ago, but Jake remembered what it was like to be so young and uncertain, trying to deal with adult responsibilities and wondering if he could handle them successfully. “Find Con to take your place; then go visit your folks.”

Jimbo threw himself on the back of his horse, pulled his sister after him, and headed for the road. “Thank you, Mr. Sperling,” he called over his shoulder.

Jake watched the herd as he waited for Con to arrive. His thoughts turned toward the business he hoped to conduct. This delay was costly, as Mr. Arnold should know. Jake lounged on his horse, watching the animals shuffle about and settle into the new place. They’d be fine as long as nothing spooked them. But if Arnold didn’t show up soon, he’d have the task of feeding and watering the bunch. He sighed. He wanted nothing more than to get back to the ranch where things were more predictable, more under his control. He did not like the feeling that he held on to the whole affair by a slippery rope.

Trying to keep his mother safe was more than enough challenge. He knew what she would do in town—shop until she exhausted herself. And without a dining room, she’d be forced to go out after a tiring day in order to eat. He would have to watch her carefully to ensure she didn’t jeopardize her health before he got her back home.

As he often did when he was alone with his thoughts, he turned to prayer. It seemed more natural to talk to God on the back of a good horse than in church.
God, You know how I need to get these animals sold so I can get back to the ranch.
It was up to him to see the ranch and the family properly taken care of, but he couldn’t manage without God’s help. He let the peace of knowing God’s care sift through his tense thoughts then ended as he always did.
Help me fulfill my responsibilities.

He shifted in the saddle as Con rode up to him. Jake gave him instructions on watching the herd but didn’t hurry away. This was about the only place in the whole town where he felt comfortable. Finally, with a belly-cleansing sigh, he turned away. Time to deal with his mother and her needs.

He tied his horse in front of the hotel, crossed the sidewalk, and flicked a finger at the closed sign. Trust his mother to ignore the sign and the impracticality of staying here. But he feared if he insisted on moving, she’d upset herself and end up in bed. He sighed. Somehow they’d manage, inconvenient as it was.

He threw open the door and wrinkled his nose at the odor of smoke and lye. He’d sooner sleep with the cows. He heard angry muttering and followed the sound to the dining room. Hannah teetered on the top of a ladder struggling with blackened drapes. What was the woman thinking? Someone should tell her how dangerous ladders were.

“Miss, get down before you fall.” His voice rang with the same tone he used with his hired hands, expecting them to jump and obey.

She jumped all right, and put herself completely off balance.

He leaped forward. “Stay right there,” he ordered, shifting course to avoid the hole in the middle of the floor.

She pawed at the curtains, trying to right herself. A tear started at the edge where the material had burned. The sound began slow, like a beginning thought, then picked up speed. Her fragile balance shifted as the drapes parted company with the rod. Caught in the drape, she tumbled off the ladder.

In his haste to reach her, he stumbled over a chair and caught one foot between the rungs. He reached for her. In a tangle of charred drapes and a now broken wooden chair, they hit the floor.
Whoofs
of air exploded from two sets of lungs.

Jake couldn’t move. His feet were snarled in chairs and fabric. The ladder had fallen across his legs. He’d have matching bruises to prove it.

Miss Williams sprawled across his chest, trying to fight her way out of the drapes encasing her. Her struggles landed elbows in his chest and face.

“Stop it,” he muttered, and when she grew more frantic, he wrapped his arms around her, making it impossible for her to move.

“Let me up. I can’t breathe.” Her voice was muffled.

“Take it easy. I’ll get you out.” He kicked away the ladder and chair and rolled to his knees, then set to work untangling the fabric until she emerged.

She inhaled sharply and pushed hair out of her face, smearing charcoal over her cheeks, and shuddered. “That was dreadful. They stink.”

He sucked in air filthy with the odor of the burned drapes as he pushed to his feet, feeling a pain in his shins from the encounter with the ladder. He dusted himself off. “You had no business up there. Who’s in charge around here? How can he be so irresponsible as to allow you to do such a dangerous job? Where is he? I’ll speak to him.”

She scrambled from the drapes and stood up to face him, her eyes boring into him. Very pretty hazel eyes, he noticed. “I am in charge. I am responsible for me. I don’t need someone to take care of me.”

“You can’t be in charge.”

“And why is that, Mr. Sperling?” Her voice was low, gentle. But her flashing eyes told the truth. She did not welcome his opinion.

Not that he cared what she thought. Someone had to see that she didn’t do such foolish things in the future. And when had he gone from being “Jake” to “Mr. Sperling”? “This is not a job for a woman.”

She pulled herself as tall as she could. Her eyes turned almost green; her cheeks flushed. “Really? And what do you propose to do about the fact that I own this place and intend to fix it up so I can open for guests?”

He struggled between anger at her stubbornness in refusing to give in to his hard stare and amusement at her attempt to be fierce. She’d find out soon enough there were things a woman had best leave for a man to do. It scraped his nerves to think she’d probably get hurt trying. His father had drilled into Jake that women were the weaker sex and men were responsible for protecting them. “You would have been injured if I hadn’t caught you.”

She flicked the idea away with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I was perfectly safe until you scared me. Don’t you know you shouldn’t sneak up on people like that?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you know you shouldn’t stand on the top of a ladder?” What was wrong with her? Didn’t she care she might be injured? “In the future, stay on the ground.”

“I don’t see that my future is any of your business.” She spat the words out. Suddenly, her mouth rounded. “Oh, you’re hurt.” She reached for his cheek then pulled her hand back and pointed.

He touched the spot she indicated and saw blood on his fingers. “It’s nothing.”

“It needs to be tended to.” She waved him toward a chair, saw it was charred, and waved him toward another. “I’ll get something to clean it with.” Without giving him a chance to protest, she hurried into the back room, which appeared to be the kitchen.

He chuckled when he heard her startled exclamation. She must have seen her reflection.

When she returned, her face and hair had been fixed. She approached him with a white cloth and a small basin of water. She put the basin on the table then hesitated.

“I can do it myself,” he said.

She nodded and handed him the cloth.

He sponged at the area.

“A little more this way,” she indicated. “It’s still bleeding some.”

The outer door opened. They both turned toward the sound.

His mother called.

“In here,” he said.

His mother appeared in the doorway, took one look at him, and pressed her hand to her chest. “What happened?” She swayed.

“Mrs. Sperling.” Hannah raced to his mother’s side, but he tossed chairs out of his way and got there first. He swept his mother into his arms and headed for the sofa, Hannah hot on his heels.

“She should be at home,” he muttered. “These trips to town are too strenuous for her.”

As he laid her down, her eyes fluttered. She let out a little squeak. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s just a scratch.” He rubbed her wrists and felt her pulse. It seemed strong enough.

“What were you doing?” his mother demanded.

Hannah spoke. “I’m afraid I’m responsible for any damage he’s incurred. I decided I couldn’t wait any longer for Mort to take down the burned drapes. But they decided to take me down instead. Your son broke my fall.”

Mrs. Sperling pulled herself into a sitting position and glanced past her son to Hannah. “You aren’t injured, too, are you?”

The girl moved closer. “Of course not. I’m pretty hardy.” She glanced at Jake.

Jake was about to say he was hardy, too, when his mother answered for him. “He wrestles cows. I doubt you could hurt him much.” She took Hannah’s hand. “Rose’s Ladies’ Wear has the prettiest selection of bonnets. They’ve just arrived, Miss Rose said. You’ll have to come with me to see them.”

Feeling dismissed, Jake sat on one of the narrowed-backed, fancy-cushioned chairs.

“Mrs. Sperling, I couldn’t possibly. I have to get this place ready for guests.”

“But we are guests.”

“Yes, my very first.”

Jake’s stomach growled loudly, announcing to everyone in the room he hadn’t eaten since breakfast many hours ago.

Mother swung her feet to the floor. “I’m hungry, too. Shall we find supper?”

Jake eyed her. She seemed just a little pale and in no hurry to stand. He guessed she was still a little weak from her faint, though she’d probably deny it. “Mother, I don’t think you’re up to going out again.”

His mother shot him an annoyed look. “I’m fine.”

“You stay here, and I’ll bring back something.”

“I’d worry about you.” She rubbed her chest as if it hurt.

Jake’s stomach growled again. Louder. More persistent. He really needed to find food soon. But Mother looked so worried he didn’t dare leave her. She leaned her head back, her eyelids fluttering.

“Hannah, perhaps you would be so kind as to prepare us something,” Mother said.

The girl stared. “The dining room isn’t open.”

Mother lifted a weary hand. “I know that, my dear. But surely you eat. Wouldn’t it be possible for us to share your meal?”

“B–but—,” Hannah sputtered.

Jake knew he should have put his foot down from the first. This was not a safe place for his mother. The dining room was in shambles. Hannah seemed bent on risking life and limb to prove she could do a job beyond her capabilities. “Mother, you can’t be serious. You knew when you insisted on staying here that we’d have to go out to eat.”

She pressed her hand to her left shoulder. “I know, but it’s not like we need anything special.”

She spoke for herself. Jake was about ready to butcher one of his own steers and roast it in the alley. He got to his feet and headed for the door. “Anything in particular you’d like me to bring back?”

His mother moaned and fell back on the cushion. He halted. Dare he leave her?

“I don’t mind sharing my supper with you.” Hannah spoke softly, sending Jake a look that dared him to argue.