The Cowboy's City Girl (8 page)

“Are you here after potatoes?”

“Yes...and carrots.” She would not admit she didn't know how to get them, had never in her entire life dug in the dirt. Why, Father would be shocked and Mother would swoon if they suspected what she was doing. However, she thought with some degree of sharpness, their opinion no longer concerned her.

Levi grabbed a digging tool—the fork, she could tell that—and pulled out a green plant, tossed it aside and eased away the soil to reveal a little nest of potatoes.

She fell to her knees, unmindful of the damp earth, and gingerly picked each potato from the dirt. An unusual, though not unpleasant, aroma wafted over her. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply, filling her lungs and her soul with a scent that seemed to breathe life itself.

“There's nothing like the smell of freshly turned soil. Makes a person grateful.” Levi stopped suddenly.

She understood he wondered if she shared similar thoughts and likely imagined all she cared about was not getting her hands dirty. She meant to disabuse him of the notion and rose to face him, nothing but the mound of potatoes separating them, and told him of her thoughts regarding the soil.

He chuckled. “‘Breathe life itself.' I like that. Are you by any chance a poet?” His words tingled her brain. No one had ever before admired her way with words. In fact, Father had often told her men didn't fancy a woman who spoke of things that should only interest a man. She took that to mean they didn't care for a woman to be too intelligent...maybe afraid it would make them feel less so. But Levi had approved. Said he liked it. And she liked that he liked it.

Remembering he'd asked a question, she answered. “Not a poet, though I do admit to liking words.”

He chuckled. “That might mean a number of things. It could mean you talk a lot or that—” He shrugged and looked slightly embarrassed.

“Or what?” She longed to know what he thought.

“I was going to say the first thing that popped into my mind but perhaps it isn't appropriate. You being a city gal and high-society and me being a ranch man and working-class.” She didn't care for the way he drawled the words, as if mocking her opinion.

“Here I stand in the middle of a garden, my hands soiled from picking potatoes from the ground, and you call me a high-society girl? Surely you jest.”

He grinned, obviously pleased with her response. “I confess it's hard to think of you as such at the moment.”

Warmth trickled through her heart at his approval. “So tell me what you were going to say.”

“Okay. I might have been going to suggest you are deeply touched by nature.” He looked to the right of her ear as if the words made him uncomfortable.

But they filled her with a strange wonderment. She tipped her head and considered what it meant. “You might be right. I found the drive out here exceedingly—” She paused as she sought for the right word.

His gaze came back to her. “Yes?”

A smile warmed her eyes. “Fulfilling. Yes, it was fulfilling to see everything. The trees, the flowers, the mountains...even the grass. I had no idea it grew in such a variety of colors. Sage, fern, moss, mint, olive—” She lifted her hands to indicate she couldn't express herself the way she wanted to. “So many. Of course, my opinion changed somewhat when the heavens opened and poured out rain.”

“Indeed.” His smile did not mock or belittle. No, it filled his eyes and made her want to stand there until darkness fell. “Oh, no.” She pressed a hand to her mouth. “I forgot I'm making dinner.” She gathered up the rest of the potatoes, took the basin and hurried away.

“Don't you need carrots, too?” His voice stopped her in her tracks and slowly she retraced her steps.

“I forgot.”

Levi gave a brief nod of understanding and stopped at a row of feathery ferns.

She stared as he dug out bright orange carrots. “All these are carrots?” There were several rows of them.

“We store them for winter use. Remember, what we don't grow or produce ourselves, we don't eat. That's the way it is out in the country.” He studied her, as if waiting for a response.

If he thought she would say it was much easier to get things at the market or from a street vendor, he would have to wait a long time, especially considering she usually got them served on a china plate. “It must be so satisfying to produce what you need.”

“Yes, it is.”

“I expect I'll know the same satisfaction when I know I can take care of myself.”

His gaze went from her eyes to her chin, as if remembering, then he nodded. “I suppose so.”

“Thanks for your help.” She started to leave but then hesitated. “I'm grateful for this opportunity to learn more.”

“Think nothing of it.”

She hurried back to the house, pausing at the door to glance back.

He leaned against the garden gate, watching her.

She stood at the door without reaching for the doorknob. Why was he still looking at her? She wished she could see his face better and perhaps read his expression.

Then she realized she was watching him, as well. Why? It wasn't like his kindness meant anything except he was a kind man. She entered the house wondering who had made him so certain that being a half-breed meant a woman wouldn't be interested in him.

That didn't mean her, of course. She had other ambitions. But surely others found him as attractive and appealing as she did.

She shut the door firmly behind her as if by doing so, she could shut her thoughts to such nonsense.

Chapter Seven

L
evi watched the door for several seconds after it had closed then slowly, reluctantly, turned away. She'd liked the smell of the earth and the greens of the grass. He'd never heard anyone speak of it in such terms before, giving him a new appreciation for the things he'd known every day of his life.

Maybe she'd like to see more of the colors of nature. Wouldn't she enjoy the blue valley to the west and the dark pines a little higher up? Then there were the mountains. Of course she'd seen them already. She couldn't be in Western Montana and not see them but they changed as one got closer. She'd like that. And what about the waterfalls by Johnny and Willow's home and the trees where Ma had liked to worship God. He'd surely have to take her those places, too.

Whoa, right there
.
Have you forgotten who you are?

Had she?

He hurried to the barn to start cleaning it.

But a little later, when the dinner bell rang, he had not succeeded in putting an end to dreaming of all the places he'd like to take her.

He took his time about emptying the wheelbarrow and putting away the shovel.

Charlie waited at the barn door. “I'm hungry enough to eat burned chops and half-cooked potatoes, though at the speed you're moving, the potatoes will be cooked to mush by the time we get there.”

“Just putting stuff away.”

“Where you figure it's gonna go?”

He ignored Charlie's insinuation that he was stalling. “I'm ready.” They fell into step as they crossed the yard.

“You trying to avoid Beatrice?” Charlie asked.

“Why would I want to do that?” Little did Charlie know that it was all Levi could do not to break into a run and see Beatrice a few minutes sooner than their current pace would allow.

Charlie chuckled. “I didn't say you
wanted
to. In fact, ever since you spent half the morning entertaining her I kind of think you
want
to see her even though since Helen you've avoided women like they're poison.”

Levi didn't answer. He could hardly deny it and he sure wasn't going to admit it, although there had been Fern, but their friendship had been short-lived, hardly worth mentioning.

“Beatrice seems awfully nice, doesn't she? What with how she tries so hard to get things right and how she takes care of little Dolly.”

Levi hoped Charlie was done but his cousin slid in one more jab.

“Not at all like Helen.”

They reached the house, saving Levi from having to respond. Yes, Beatrice was different from Helen, but he couldn't say for certain just how. Nor if that meant she saw past his mixed heritage. Not, he firmly informed himself, that it mattered one way or the other.

They entered the house. Levi did his best to keep his attention on everything but Beatrice. He saw that Maisie looked comfortable, with a book, her Bible and the sewing basket on a stool nearby so she didn't have to move about to get her things.

Dolly stayed close to Beatrice, cautious of the men. Levi blinked as he realized she didn't seem to be afraid of him...only Charlie. It took only a tiny shift for his eyes to go to Beatrice. Their gazes crashed together, hers as full of interest and uncertainty as he figured his was. He might have stood there all day, staring and wondering what this strange connection meant, except Charlie nudged him.

“You gonna sit down?”

Levi found his confused way to the table and sat. He somehow managed to ask the blessing. He took the serving bowl as it was passed to him and spooned thick stew to his plate. He ate it but his thoughts were not on his food. How could they be with Beatrice sitting across the table from him?

She hadn't put her hair up today and it hung down her back in a pale brown tumble. Strands fell about her face.

“Stew is sure good. Right, Levi?” Charlie's question jerked Levi's attention back to reality.

“Yeah, it's good. Thanks.”

Did she blush at his faint praise?

They finished the meal without him saying anything to make Charlie sit up and take notice. But Levi didn't relax until Charlie excused himself and left the house, saying he had something to do. He never thought to ask what Charlie's plans were. Nor did he care. He savored another cup of coffee as he watched Beatrice wash dishes and Dolly dry them.

As Charlie had noted, she was very good with the girl and Dolly seemed to feel safe with her.

Maisie yawned. “I'm tired. Levi, help me to my bed, then you and Beatrice take Dolly out and amuse her for an hour or two.”

“Yes, Ma.” He let her lean on his arm as they went to her bedroom. “How is your leg, Ma?”

“It's a little sore but it's not bleeding. Beatrice checked to make sure.” She settled herself on her bed and closed her eyes. “You run along and take care of her and the girl.”

Dismissed, he returned to the kitchen, where Beatrice and Dolly had finished the dishes. “Maisie wants us to leave her alone to rest. What would you like to do?”

Dolly picked up Smokey from where the cat sat by the stove lapping up milk. “Mrs. Harding told me about the mice in the loft. Smokey really wants to see them.”

He wanted to tell Dolly she didn't have to keep whispering, but he glanced at Beatrice, saw her silent warning and nodded.

“Are you ready, then?” he asked, holding out his hand to Dolly, half expecting she would shrink back from him. When she took his hand and gave him a shy smile he couldn't help but grin. Beatrice took her other hand and gave him a smile of understanding.

Feeling as if they were a three-person unit, they edged from the house and went to the barn.

Dolly went directly to the ladder to the loft then paused, looking from Smokey to the ladder.

“Do you want me to hold your kitten until you get up there?”

She nodded and solemnly released the kitten to him.

Feeling honored by her trust, he cradled the cat in his arms.

Dolly scampered up the ladder with the sure-footedness of a child who had done it before. She reached the top and held out her hands to receive the kitten.

He climbed three rungs and placed Smokey in her hands, then climbed the rest of the way and turned to Beatrice. He'd expected to have to urge her up but she poked her head through the opening before he said a word.

He held out his hand to help her to her feet and kept her hand in his as she stood and looked around. The loft doors stood open letting in a blast of sunshine.

Beatrice breathed deeply then sneezed.

He laughed. “It's dusty up here.”

“Look at the dust floating in the light. It looks like it's dancing.”

Dolly had gone to the far corner and put Smokey down to explore.

Levi led Beatrice to the doorway that allowed a wide view of the mountains to the west.

Her grasp on his hand tightened and she stared at the sight. “You can see forever.”

“Only as far as the mountains,” he amended with laughter in his voice.

She sighed. “I could never tire of a view like this. It makes me feel—” She stopped and cleared her throat. When she continued, she sounded choked. “Like a part of a great plan.”

“Let's sit.” He had to release her hand to allow her to sit on the floor, her dark purple skirt fanning out about her.

He sat cross-legged at her side and they both looked out the door. He pointed out various landmarks and enjoyed her comments about them. It was hard to believe she was a city girl.

Harder still to remember he was a half-breed and could never be accepted in her world.

Dolly squealed, bringing their attention to her.

“I wish she would feel safe enough to talk out loud,” he said.

“She's been through an awful shock. Bad enough to lose your parents, but to be there as they died...” She shuddered. “I can't even imagine it. Sometimes I wonder if she will be permanently affected, but then I watch her playing and think she seems resilient.”

“I expect she'll need lots of love and patience. I pray her aunt will provide it.”

“Me, too.” She turned her gaze to him, full of rich gold and caring. “Let's agree to each pray for her every day.”

He nodded. He couldn't have said no to her if he wanted to, which he didn't. He had already been praying for Dolly, but to know he and Beatrice had a pledge to both do so forged a bond between them.

He reached for her hand just as she reached for his and they squeezed each other's fingers. Never mind that she was white and a city girl and he was dark-skinned and a country boy. They were united in this one thing.

Likely the only thing they would be united on, he warned himself.

* * *

That evening, Beatrice watched Dolly sleeping, then crossed to the window and looked out at the silvery landscape. She saw such beauty around her that, at times, she felt overwhelmed. If only she could paint what she saw or find words to describe it.

Or that she could find words to describe Levi.

She closed her eyes against the tremor racing along her veins.

What had happened to her vow to never again trust a man? To become entirely independent so no man could ever think she needed him so badly she would be coerced into marriage like her father wanted.

It seemed every time she was with Levi she forgot the pain of learning her value to others, thinking only of the way the skin about his eyes softened just before he laughed, enjoying the way he described various places and things they saw, or, most telling of all, finding his touch so reassuring.

Only when she was alone did she hear the insistent warning voice that she knew she must heed.

She sat on the chair next to the bed and opened her Bible.
Lord God, I need comfort and guidance. Help me not to lose my way. Show me the path I should take.
Glancing down, she saw that God had answered her prayer most directly and read the verse:
No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.
She had no idea what Jesus had meant when He spoke the words, but they drove a spear through her conscience. She'd prayed for a way to gain independence and God had provided this job. She must not let her silly thoughts distract her from her goal.

Her mind settled as to what she must do, she finished preparing for bed and climbed in beside Dolly and Smokey. As usual, the child murmured in her sleep and curled up against Beatrice.

Beatrice wrapped her arms about Dolly and held her close. She trusted God had brought her here for another purpose besides learning how to run a household. Dolly needed whatever comfort and security Beatrice could offer until her aunt was able to make arrangements regarding her.

Going to family was certainly the best, most comforting thing for Dolly, but Beatrice had already grown exceedingly fond and protective of the little girl and would miss her terribly when they parted.

Her plans were solidly in place the next morning when she and Dolly hurried to the kitchen—Dolly to take her kitten outside and Beatrice to start coffee and prepare breakfast. But they slid sideways at the sight of Levi by the stove, watching her approach.

Her footsteps slowed and she veered to her right straight to the cupboard, opened it and tried to think what she wanted.

Levi poured a cup of coffee for himself, another for Maisie, and went to the table.

Beatrice continued to stare into the cupboard. How was she to keep her mind centered on her work, her goals and protecting her heart when he filled the room? Filled her thoughts. Threatened to fill her heart.

She grabbed the nearest object, glad to see it was a jar of jam. At least taking that from the cupboard would make sense, but she stood holding the jar and still staring at the shelves as behind her Levi and Maisie discussed Big Sam.

“I wish he would get home,” Maisie said.

“I wish he would stay away until your leg is better,” Levi countered. “He's not going to be happy with either of us.”

Maisie chuckled. “His anger won't last long. I will see to that.”

Levi laughed. “I best get the chores done and make sure Charlie is okay.”

“He's doing better, isn't he?” Maisie asked, her voice rife with concern.

“So far.” Levi pushed away from the table.

Beatrice could not continue to keep her back to him—she must know if he would look her way—so she slowly turned.

He stood at the door, his hat in hand. Their gazes caught with such force, she forgot to breathe. His smile began at his eyes and then caught his mouth. “I'll be back for breakfast.” With a tiny nod, he was gone.

Her lungs filled with a whoosh. Her thoughts took a little longer to begin working and might have taken even longer if Maisie hadn't suggested making porridge for breakfast.

By the time the meal was ready and she stepped outside to ring the bell, Beatrice had herself firmly in hand. She would not forget the plans she'd formulated for her life.

She made it through breakfast without being sidetracked and spent the rest of the morning cleaning the house. She realized that it was hard work to mop floors, but she discovered a great deal of satisfaction from seeing the floors gleaming.

Dinner turned out quite well. She would soon be confident enough to manage a few meals on her own so that when she left here she would qualify for another job.

Pain grabbed at her insides. She held very still until it passed, determined to ignore it. Yes, she would leave here. She'd known it from the beginning. Nothing had changed.

She might have continued to hold her feelings in check except Maisie sighed wearily. “I really need a rest. Levi, help me to my room then you and Beatrice take Dolly out for an hour or two again.”

No, Beatrice wanted to wail. Yes, her heart sang with joy. Only, she argued, because she loved seeing the scenery and animals. Not, she insisted, because she looked forward to another outing with Levi. And Dolly, she added quickly.