The Heirloom Brides Collection (6 page)

“Say the word right now, and Old Joe will have this place for the rest of his life.”

“You mean you’d sign it back over to him?”

“No,” he said curtly, reaching out and gripping her arms.

“Then what do you mean?”

“I mean, once you’re in my house, he can live out the rest of his days in this cabin. But it will always belong to me.”

Pops would never go for it. Not in a thousand and one years. She gave a snort and tried to shake off his sweaty hands. “He’d rather shoot you right between the eyes.”

He tightened his grip and pulled her closer. “Is that so? And what about you? Are you going to see your grandpa out in the cold with winter coming?”

Fear settled over her like a thick cloud, but Betsy knew she couldn’t cower before this man. “Better that than marrying the likes of you. Now turn me loose this instant.”

“Better do as the lady says.”

Betsy nearly fainted in relief as Stuart walked into the cabin.

Mr. Blakely scowled. “Mind your own business, Fields.” His voice held the edge of a threat, but fortunately, he did as Stuart said and turned her loose.

Despite the two inches and forty pounds Leo Blakely had on Stuart, her defender didn’t back down. He might be sickened at the sight of blood, but he wasn’t afraid of the likes of this bully. The thought raised Betsy’s estimation of Stuart by more than a little.

He stepped closer and reached for Betsy. Without thought, she took his hand and allowed him to lead her to a spot behind him, where his body shielded hers.

“I’d say the sight of a lady in distress is my business.”

“I’d say the two of you are trespassing on my property, and I’ll thank you to get on out of here.”

“Gladly.” Barely holding back a shudder that would expose her fear of the man, Betsy stepped out from behind Stuart and faced Leo squarely, then backed toward the door. On shaky legs, she reached the exit, aware that Stuart’s steely gaze never left Mr. Blakely’s as he followed her out. She noted gratefully that Job had joined Stuart’s horse and both stood close by, eating the dead grass.

Stuart cupped her elbow as they walked toward the horses, neither of them speaking until they were clear of the angry man whose nefarious plans had clearly been thwarted by Stuart’s sudden and, as far as Betsy was concerned, divinely directed appearance.

Job refused to stay still as she tried to mount him. Stuart grabbed his halter and gave him a sharp command, and Betsy was able to climb into the saddle on the second try.

As they rode away toward town, Betsy gathered in a deep breath. “I don’t know what might have happened if you hadn’t been there.”

But she did know, and so did Stuart, though neither of them spoke it aloud. “I’m just glad I was.”

“What were you doing there anyway?”

“We saw you riding out of town.” He hesitated. “Ma was worried how you’d take finding the place empty like that. We weren’t sure you’d been told about the auction.”

A sigh slid through her lips. “Just awhile ago. Junior Mahoney told me.” She shook her head. “That’s what Blakely was all about back there. He had the audacity to offer Pops the cabin to live in.”

Stuart gave a snort. “I take it there were strings attached?”

Betsy nodded. “He’s been trying to get me to marry him since the day I turned fifteen.”

The day that just a few moments ago had gone gray and awful was beginning to brighten. Not only with the sun shining down and warming things up, but Stuart’s timely appearance had spared Betsy from unthinkable horrors. She cut him a glance. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

S
tuart rode next to Betsy, feeling more guilty than ever for buying that watch at the auction. He needed to tell her what he’d done. But if he knew Betsy, she would insist he give it back. Probably wouldn’t even offer to pay for it. It held sentimental value for her, but he, too, had memories tied to the timepiece.

She sighed as they approached town. He turned at the sound. “You okay?”

She nodded, but the worry etched her face.

Stuart didn’t push, but he had a feeling he understood. She had just lost everything dear to her, and the whole town knew about it. With Old Joe hurt, she would have to find a position somewhere to take care of them and a place to live. She looked so weary, and his heart twisted with sympathy.

“Don’t worry, Betsy,” he said. “We’ll find you a place to live. You won’t be alone.” He would’ve told her about Ma’s offer but figured it wasn’t all that proper for a man to offer a young woman a place to live.

Besides, far from the reaction of gratitude he expected, Betsy turned brilliant, flashing blue eyes on him. “I don’t need your charity, Stuart Fields. I have two hands and I’ll find my own place to live.”

“Fine. Sorry for trying to help.”

“I don’t want your help.” The catch in her throat revealed fear and uncertainty. Stuart tried to understand. To not get up in arms over her stubbornness. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful for what you did back there. Obviously, I needed help. But when it comes to working and finding a place to live, I’m capable of taking care of Pops and me.”

Stuart couldn’t help the pride he felt because he’d saved her from that scoundrel back at the cabin. To his surprise, all he wanted to do was ease her load. If only she would let him.

Betsy left Job in Junior Mahoney’s capable hands and headed straight for Miss Annie’s restaurant. The heavenly smells of cooking meat assaulted her stomach and caused her mouth to water. But the absence of money in her reticule made the idea of a meal impossible. Besides, that’s not what she’d come for. Miss Annie met her at the door with a tentative smile. “The dining room isn’t quite open for business. You know we close down between lunch and dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am. I mean no. I’m not here to eat, and I knew you’d be closed to customers.”

The woman searched her face with a slight frown. Then her eyes widened and she lifted her chin. “You’re looking for a position, I take it?”

Heat suffused Betsy’s face. “If you don’t have one available, I understand. I’m not asking for a handout.”

Miss Annie waved her words aside. “And I don’t give them. As it happens, I’m in need for someone to help serve food and drinks to the customers and clean. Is that what you had in mind?”

Besty had never eaten in a restaurant, so she had no idea what she had in mind except for honest work and enough wages to secure a place to sleep and to cover Doc’s fee. And she’d need to eat from time to time. “Yes, ma’am. That’s what I had in mind.”

“Good, then. I understand you have some troubles. But don’t think this is a charitable position. I’ll expect you to do your fair share of the work, and trust me, it’s not going to be easy. I’ve let go almost as many girls as I’ve hired over the past ten years.” She eyed Betsy. “But I think you’re made of stronger stuff than those others.”

Relieved to hear her say those things, Betsy didn’t withhold her smile. “Thank you, Miss Annie. Can I just ask… that is…”

“How much am I paying you?”

“I’m sorry to ask.”

She snorted. “Don’t be sorry. You deserve to know what you’re working for. The pay is seven dollars a week. One meal per day included. I’ll expect you here at four thirty each morning, Monday through Saturday. You’ll leave when everything is spick-and-span. That’s usually around seven each evening. Sundays are the Lord’s day, and I observe that without fail. I’ll expect to see you at service each week. I can’t have an employee who doesn’t go to church.”

The wages were more generous than Betsy had dared hope. The work and hours were going to take some getting used to, but she knew she could do it. The only thing that gave her pause was attending church services every week on her only day off. “Miss Annie, the thing about Sunday…”

The older woman’s eyebrows went up. “Yes?”

“It’s just that I need to go see Pops on Sundays. I’m just not sure how long he’ll be in the doc’s care. And after that I’ll be taking care of him.”

Clearly unmoved by Betsy’s very reasonable explanation, Miss Annie scowled. “I’m sure your pops can wait until you’ve kept the Sabbath holy. I’m sorry, Betsy Lowell. But those are my rules. I have very few. Be good to the customers. Deliver hot food and make sure drinks are full. Oh, and never, ever talk back to a customer.”

“Never?” Not even if one was rude to her?

“Ironclad rule and grounds for immediate dismissal. Even so much as a sour face would be grounds for dismissal.”

So she had to hold her tongue and her face? This position might be more difficult than she originally expected.

“We all set, then?” Miss Annie asked. “Or should I look for someone else?”

“No, ma’am. No need to look any further. When would you like for me to start?”

“In the morning. Four thirty sharp. Do you have a place to stay?”

“Not yet. I was thinking of asking Mr. Mahoney if I could bed down in my wagon at the livery.”

“Nonsense. I have an extra room just over the kitchen. It’ll be comfortable in winter but does get rather warm in the summer with the heat from the kitchen. It’s very small, and the cot isn’t too comfortable, but you may have it for two dollars a week, and I’ll throw in one more meal a day. Which I think is very generous.”

Calculating what she knew to be the rates at the boardinghouse, Betsy figured she’d save a dollar a week if she took the room over the kitchen.

“Thank you, ma’am. May I move in now?”

“Yes. I’m not without generosity. Tonight you’ll be my guest. Your rates for the room will begin tomorrow when you begin working.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Just keep that attitude, and we’ll get on just fine. You can get into the room from the stairs behind the building. Go gather your belongings and move into the room at your convenience. I expect you to be in by eight each evening, including this one, and although it should be obvious, you mustn’t have gentleman callers at any time, day or night.”

“Of course!”

“I know you’re a good girl. But it had to be spoken aloud so there’s no misunderstanding.”

Betsy nodded. “Thank you for everything. I’m going to go check on Pops, and I’ll be back later.”

Betsy walked into Doc’s with her head high, pleased that she had secured a position and a home in less than twenty minutes. Pops would be relieved to hear she was taking care of herself. She met Mrs. Avery in the foyer. “How’s he doing?”

“No change, I’m afraid.”

Betsy’s heart sank. She’d held out a large amount of hope that just the act of her leaving and coming back hours later might somehow make him come around. “None?”

“Not yet. But his breathing is steady. Doc says it’s a good sign that he’s still hanging in there. Sometimes staying unconscious is the body’s way of healing itself. We’ve certainly seen people wake up after days like this and be as right as rain.”

Her words brought a measure of relief, though she couldn’t help but wish Pops would snap out of it. Of course, his bones needed to heal, so it might be a mercy he was staying asleep. Awake, he’d likely be insisting on getting up. Or doing something equally foolish to slow his recovery.

“Are you hungry?” Mrs. Avery asked. “I have some ham slices still warm from lunch and some potatoes fried with salt pork.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. Just let me go and sit with Pops for a few minutes.”

A bright smile lit Mrs. Avery’s face. “Good to see you getting your appetite back.” She slid her arm around Betsy’s shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. “You go on in and sit with your grandpa, and I’ll bring your lunch to you.”

Betsy tapped lightly on the door, but of course Pops didn’t answer. Feeling foolish, she turned the knob and stepped inside. “Hey, Pops,” she said. “I sure wish you’d wake up. And don’t worry, I’m not too mad about the mortgage and losing the farm.” She flopped onto the chair next to the bed. “Except if you’d told me,” she said, anger beginning to build, “I could’ve helped do something about it. You know? You didn’t have to lie to me all this time. I mean, mercy! You know who bought the farm out from under us? Leo Blakely. And today, he tried to take liberties. Oh! And your watch is gone. I mean, really, Pops. The one time you forget the watch and they sell it. And the worst part is I don’t know who has it. Any decent person will know that was a mistake, and maybe I can buy it back.”

A knock at the door interrupted her, and Betsy sat back, folding her arms. “Come in, Mrs. Avery,” she called.

The door opened, and the older woman appeared, juggling a tray in one hand, a pitcher of water in the other. Betsy hopped up and hurried to help before the whole thing ended up on the floor.

“Thank you, dear.” Mrs. Avery smiled. “I brought Old Joe’s soup, too. I’ll try to get some nourishment down him while you get some in your own body.”

Betsy set the tray on the table next to the bed and grabbed her plate. She attacked the ham and potatoes as though she hadn’t eaten in a month.

Mrs. Avery nodded in approval. “It’s good to see you’ve gotten your appetite back. You’ve got to keep up your strength.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she replied around her last bite. “Especially starting tomorrow.” Just the description of what her days were going to be like from now on was exhausting.