The Cowboy's City Girl (2 page)

Too white for Fern. Too native for Helen.

At that point, he'd made up his mind. He would never again open himself up to loss and rejection. Some might say he had grown too guarded, but he knew his heart could not withstand more. Perhaps losing his ma when he was only five had made him extra cautious.

Miss Doyle's voice brought him back to the present. “Mr. Harding, how far do we have to travel to get to your ranch?”

“We're almost there. I prefer you call me Levi. Mr. Harding is my pa, though mostly he's known as Big Sam.”

“So he's a big man?”

“In every way imaginable.”

She tipped her head as if trying to fathom what he meant. “Big in size and big in heart?”

“Yup. And big in personality.”

“Oh.” She considered his reply for a moment. Her voice was soft as she asked her next question. “Will he frighten me?”

Levi laughed. “Only if you let him. But he's not home right now. He and a bunch of cowhands have gone up the mountains where some cows are trapped by a landslide. They have to dig them out.”

“You did not go with them?”

“Someone had to remain at home to take care of things. Good thing I stayed behind. I can't imagine what would have become of Ma if she'd been alone.” His voice hardened. If something happened to Ma he would have himself to blame.

“I thought she was your stepmother.”

He smiled. “I barely remember my own ma. Maisie is the only ma I've known. I should tell you why she needs help. I don't know why she thought it was necessary to carry a sharp hoe into the loft of the barn just because she wanted to clean up the mouse droppings.” Couldn't she have asked Levi to help? But she hadn't. “She said she could smell mice every time she entered the barn. She fell from the ladder, landed on the hoe and laid open a deep cut on the back of her thigh.” He closed his eyes but that did nothing to erase the picture of blood soaking her skirts. “If she doesn't rest her leg, she'll end up crippled, or maybe worse.”

Miss Doyle made a sympathetic sound and then sat up straighter, though he would have thought she was already poker straight. “I'm here to help.” She peered into the rain. “I see no houses. Do you have neighbors, Mr. Harding?”

“Levi, remember?”

“Yes, Levi. And please call me Beatrice.”

“Thank you, Beatrice.” Her name suited her. Regal and distant.

Though how distant had they been a few minutes ago as he carried her from the river? Should he explain it meant nothing? He was being neither bold nor inappropriate, only intent on saving her life. He decided the less he said about it, the sooner they would both forget it. “To answer your question. We don't have many neighbors. My brother Tanner married this spring. He and his wife, Susanne, and the four children they adopted live a few miles to the west. My other brother, Johnny, married more recently and he and his wife, Willow, live three miles north. She brought a baby boy and two sisters to the marriage. Other than that our neighbors are no closer than town.”

“Willow? What an unusual name.”

“An unusual gal. She wasn't at all bothered that my brother is part native. Nor was Susanne, the girl who married my oldest brother.” Levi looked at her with silent challenge. “My mother, Seena, was a full-blooded Lakota Indian. She was injured fleeing the Battle of the Little Bighorn. My pa found her, saved her life and then they fell in love and married.”

She met his eyes. The rain softened sufficiently for him to see that her eyes were golden-brown, as warm as freshly baked bread. Then she ducked her head enough to hide behind the brim of her hat.

“You say that like you expect me to get off the seat and walk the rest of the way.”

He couldn't decide if he should laugh at her suggestion or stop the buggy and let her off. “I'll take you back to town if you wish.”

“I knew the situation before I came this way. I have no intention of turning back.”

She knew he was a half-breed and still she came? Her response both surprised him and pleased him. “You're sure?”

She nodded. “I intend to do the job I came to do.”

He pulled up before the house. “We're here.”

She squinted into the curtain of rain. “Where's here?”

She wouldn't be able to see much of the place in this downpour. “The Sundown Ranch.” Pride filled his voice. They reached the house. He swung down and went around the horse to reach up and help her. “Come on in. It's simple but I think you'll find we're very comfortable.”

“Indeed.” Not another word, leaving him to wonder if she'd find the place to her liking or not. Hadn't he heard that her father was one of the richest men in Chicago? She'd surely think the ranch house small. But she had agreed to come here of her own free will. That must mean something.

“Come and meet my ma.” He drew her inside, but his heart slammed against his ribs as a result of what he saw. “Ma—” Maisie balanced a steaming cup of tea as she tried to make her way to the table while hobbling on one leg. “What are you doing?” He sprang forward, took the cup, set it aside then half carried her to the nearest chair. “You are supposed to be resting with your leg up. Have you started the wound bleeding again?”

“Levi, stop fussing and introduce me to this young lady who looks ready to turn tail and flee.”

He looked back at Beatrice. She looked miserable and cold. Leaving Maisie safely settled on her chair, he beckoned her forward.

But she didn't move, glancing at the puddle forming at her feet. “I'm dripping wet.”

“It's only water. It will dry. Come to the stove and get warm.”

He caught a look of uncertainty in her eyes. She shook from head to toe and started to wobble.

He sprang forward just in time to catch her before she fell to the floor in a faint. Snagging a chair with his foot, he dragged it close to the stove, lowered her to the seat and considered his predicament. He should be out chasing the scoundrels responsible for causing problems around the place. The pouring rain provided perfect cover for them, but the woman who had come to help Maisie was of no use. He couldn't leave her alone—or expect her to take care of Maisie's needs.

He was stuck inside with two incapacitated women.

What was he going to do?

Chapter Two

B
eatrice closed her eyes against the darkness clouding her mind. Her wet clothes were too tight. The cold had seeped into her brain.

The warmth from the stove and the firmness of the hard chair eased her faintness but she dare not open her eyes yet, afraid the room would spin and make it impossible to stay upright.

Levi hovered nearby. He'd saved her from disaster yet again. How long before he decided she was a bad risk and sent her back to town? How could she prove she could do the job if he had to continually rescue her?

Sucking in the deepest breath her constricting clothing allowed, she willed away the dizziness and opened her eyes. She would do what she'd come to do. “I'm fine.”

“Perhaps if you changed into dry clothes.” Mrs. Harding's voice revealed no criticism, a fact that gave Beatrice a bit of courage.

“Yes, of course. My bags...” She could hardly expect Levi to go out in the rain that still pounded down.

“I'll get them.”

“Oh, no. I couldn't ask you to do that. It's still raining.”

“You didn't ask me. Besides, I could hardly get any wetter.”

Indeed, puddles followed his every step. He was as wet as she, and surely as miserable, yet he was willing to venture back out into the inclement weather. It wasn't like he had to. He wasn't one of Father's servants, who were expected to run and fetch no matter the conditions.

Before she could answer or object he was out the door. She stared after him. If she wasn't so miserable she might wonder if he was always so accommodating or was he anxious to be done with her?

She'd faced so many strange and frightening things since she'd left home. Only one thing had sustained her—her trust in God. She'd clung to His promises on the trip west and as Aunt Opal showed her how frontier life was lived.
God is my strength and power: He maketh my way perfect.
A fragile calm filled her. God would provide everything she needed.

Her gaze went to Mrs. Harding.

“Are you sure you're okay?” the woman asked.

Beatrice nodded. She should get to her feet and introduce herself but she feared having another weak spell. “I'm Beatrice Doyle. The preacher's wife is my aunt. They've sent me out to help you.”

“Pleased to meet you, my dear. And you shall call me Maisie. May I call you Beatrice?”

“Of course.” Beatrice's insides steadied at Maisie's kindness.

“I am blessed you have come.”

Levi returned at that moment.

“Put her things in Tanner's old room,” Maisie said. She turned to Beatrice. “Go with him and please make yourself at home. Change into something dry then come back and tell me about yourself.”

Levi waited at the doorway to the next room for her to rise and follow him. He watched her as if expecting he would have to drop her bags and catch her again.

She held herself very upright and, doing her best to ignore her very uncomfortable clothes, she followed him into a sitting room, where there was a cluster of comfortable chairs, bookshelves full of books and a round stove for cold winter days. “What a warm, inviting room,” she murmured. She could imagine the family gathered round the stove on winter evenings.

“It's nothing special. Tends to get a little crowded when the whole family is here and as you can see, there's no place to go but here or the kitchen.”

She couldn't tell if he meant to complain or if he was happy about having such a large family to crowd the house. “I would think sharing the room with family would be joyous.”

He paused before a door, a smile curving his mouth. “It is.”

She could not get over the way his features softened when he smiled. Like a happy feeling from inside him rushed to get out.

And then he opened one of the four doors along the wall, carried her things inside, then stepped out and indicated she should enter. He fled across the sitting room before she could even thank him.

The room was bright and pleasant, which made her realize the rain had softened to a mist. She parted the curtains and looked out the window. Trees stood shrouded in moisture with a trail through them. She was rather disappointed she couldn't see the barn and whatever other buildings there would be. In fact, it was the first time in her life she'd been unable to see any sign of human habitation from her dwelling place and it both frightened her and filled her with a sense of awe.

Closing the curtains, she inspected the rest of the room. A little table stood beside the bed and upon it were a lamp and a Bible. Her courage grew by leaps and bounds. At least she'd come to a place where the Bible was important enough to be put by the bedside in their guest room, giving her hope they loved and honored God as much as she did. Another thing her parents and she had disagreed on.

“I do hope you are not going to be fanatical like my sister,” her mother had said with enough disdain to fill volumes. “She chose to marry a penniless preacher when she could have married a wealthy man.”

Since spending time with Aunt Opal, Beatrice decided being like her was a compliment. Aunt Opal was kind and gentle and loving.

She changed into a dry frock—one less fashionable but infinitely more comfortable—and hurried out to the kitchen. She drew to a halt when she saw Levi, in dry clothes, sitting at the table with his mother. She'd heard the outer door open and close and assumed he'd left.

Maisie reached out a hand. “We're having tea. Come and join us. Tell me about yourself. Levi, pour our guest a cup of tea. My dear, sit down so we can talk.”

“But I'm not a guest. I've come to help you.”

“First things first,” Maisie said. “Levi, get her a cup.”

Beatrice crossed to the table feeling Levi's gaze on her every move. Did he think he might have to spring up and catch her again? No more weakness, she told herself. She had to prove she could do this job. If she did it well enough, Maisie would be able to recommend her for another job. But her legs quivered at Levi's attention. Why did she allow him to make her nervous?

Beatrice sat in the chair indicated and reluctantly allowed Levi to pour her tea. “Thank you.” She dare not look at him for fear she would see doubt in his eyes as to her suitability to do her job. So far she had done nothing but make more work for him.

“Now tell us about yourself. Where are you from?” Maisie asked.

“Chicago,” Beatrice answered.

“What does your father do?”

“He's a businessman with many interests. Perhaps you've heard of Bernard and Wardell Doyle?” Bernard was her father, Wardell her uncle. “They own a railway, a manufacturing plant and several other businesses, though Father says his greatest asset is his name.” All the more reason Beatrice being a girl had been a disappointment.

“No, I'm sorry,” Maisie said. “I was raised in Philadelphia but haven't been back east in a number of years. Do you have siblings?”

“I'm an only child.”

“Me, too.” Maisie laughed softly and gave Levi an adoring look. “Some might see that as a blessing, isn't that right, Levi?”

“I've never thought of it much.” His grin was so mischievous that Beatrice almost stared. The man had a beautiful smile that left her breathless. “Except when Tanner and Johnny tied me to a stake and said they were going to torture me.”

“Tanner and Johnny are Levi's older brothers,” Maisie said. “Tanner is twenty-one, Johnny twenty. My, how time flies.”

Beatrice waited for Maisie to supply Levi's age. But she seemed to have forgotten the subject.

“How old are you, my dear?”

“Eighteen. How old is Levi—?” She blurted out the question then stammered to a halt. “I'm sorry. That was very rude of me.”

“Not at all.” Maisie smiled at Levi. “He's nineteen.”

Beatrice concentrated on her tea while she gathered her manners.

Maisie continued. “Did Levi tell you about my injury?”

“He said you cut your leg.”

“I fear it's rather a bad cut on the back of my leg.” Maisie told of her accident. “My wound needs dressing, but I can't reach it so I will need you to do it for me.”

Beatrice had seen more illness in the past two weeks then she would have seen in four lifetimes back in Chicago. But she hadn't tended a wound. “I'll do my best.” She meant to sound strong and confident, but knew her voice revealed too much uncertainty.

Levi's expression hardened into sharp lines. No doubt he wondered what sort of help her uncle had sent.

She could and would do the job. He'd see. So would his stepmother.

“Ma is to rest with her leg up, so you'll be in charge of the kitchen, the meals, the laundry—everything she'd normally do.”

“I understand. My aunt explained my duties.” And had done her best to teach her in a few short hours how to do them. Beatrice had been shocked at how much a person had to know in order to run a house.

“I can't emphasize too strongly that she is not to be moving about,” Levi continued. “Her leg must be allowed to heal.” His dark gaze held hers in an invisible iron grip. She couldn't free herself from his look. Did he think she was incapable of doing the job? He must never learn how close to the truth such doubts were. She'd prove to him and to her father, and even to herself, that she could handle the things her choice of life required.

“I believe you've made yourself clear,” she said with far more assurance than she felt.

Levi looked ready to say more, perhaps warn her further of the cost of failure on her part. He didn't know the half of what failure would mean, not only to Maisie, but also to Beatrice.

Maisie interrupted their conversation.

“Levi, would you bring in one of the easy chairs from the other room and a footstool? I believe I'll rest better if I can sit in the kitchen and talk to Beatrice as she works.”

Levi hustled to do so, arranging a chair and stool by the table and getting Maisie comfortable in it.

“Thank you, my boy.” Maisie patted Levi's cheek. “Now you run along and leave us to take care of things.”

“Do you have everything you need?” He directed his question to Beatrice.

“I'm sure I can manage.” Not for all the grass in Montana would she admit she might have ventured in out of her depth.

“Then I will take care of the horses and the buggy.” He hurried from the house.

Beatrice gave a nervous glance about the room. No doubt there were things she needed to do, but she had no idea where to even start. Aunt Opal had always given her instructions about what to do next.

“My dear, don't look so nervous.”

Beatrice took in one deep breath and then another. “I hope I can do what's expected of me. I confess I'm not very experienced. I might make a mistake.” The word stuck in her mind. According to her parents she was a mistake.

“You can learn whatever you set your mind to and I don't believe it's a mistake you are here.”

“How do you know that?”

“I'm an old lady. I've learned a few things. And I will tell you this. I don't think God makes mistakes. I prayed for a nice young woman to come help me. I had no idea how God would answer my prayer, yet here you are. An answer to my prayer.”

Beatrice released a shaky breath. “I also prayed.” She could not say she asked God to help her find a way of being independent. How would she explain that after telling them her father was a wealthy businessman?

“Then we'll let God do what He has planned. I'm willing to teach you if you're willing to learn.”

Encouraged by those words, Beatrice looked around the kitchen. “What do you need me to do at the moment?”

“It's time to prepare supper.”

She swallowed back her rising panic. If only Aunt Opal was here to tell her what to do.
I can do this. I must do it. I have to be able to support myself if I'm to avoid my father's plans.
Hoping she portrayed more confidence than she felt, she got to her feet and hurried to the cupboard.

“Levi brought in potatoes and chops before the rain started.”

A few simple words and Beatrice felt like she'd stepped off the deep end of a wharf.
I can do this,
she repeated.

A few minutes later she was ready to change her mind. She knew to scrub the potatoes and put them to boil, but when she looked at the basin holding the chops she had to push back a desire to gag. What was one to do with them? Fry them? She could do that. Aunt Opal had taught her that much.

Hoping Maisie might make a suggestion, Beatrice turned toward the table.

Maisie's head was against the back of the chair, her eyes closed, her mouth open. She'd fallen asleep.

That left Beatrice to manage on her own.

She would not give either Levi or his stepmother reason to suggest she return to town.

* * *

Levi took the horses to the barn, where he groomed and fed them, all the while wondering if everything was all right in the house. Beatrice hadn't looked any sturdier after she'd changed her clothes. If he was to describe her to his brothers, he'd say she was beautiful but fragile, and something about the way her eyes flashed gold and the way she tilted her head gave him cause to wonder if she was as strong as she obviously wanted him to believe. So far, he'd seen no evidence of strength. She'd already fainted once. Was it something she did often?

He paused in his task and glanced in the direction of the house, his nerves twitching with apprehension. If she fainted again, he could see Maisie ignoring the need to rest her leg and rushing to look after Beatrice.

He better go to the house and make sure that didn't happen.

He hurriedly finished taking care of the horses and left the barn.

A horse and swaying rider crossed the yard in the general direction of the barn.

He groaned. His cousin Charlie often hit the bottle too hard and the way he tipped half off his horse informed Levi that this was one of those days. He made it to Charlie's side in time to prevent him from crashing to the ground. He staggered under the weight of his cousin but thankfully stayed upright.