West Winds of Wyoming (14 page)

So, he was going to be stubborn?

“I can walk, Mr. Hutton.” She took several halting steps, and although it didn’t feel great, she knew her ankle was only twisted and she’d be fine by tomorrow. Her boot, now that she’d laced it more tightly than normal, helped support the offended limb. She could easily make the distance home if she took her time. “It’s only five minutes. I’ll take those now.” Her tone was firm.

Disregarding her statement, he set his leather case on the ground and inserted her clipboard and shawl inside. “If you won’t let me fetch the doctor, the least you can do is let me carry your things home. I’m on my way there myself. We
are
neighbors, you know.”

The twinkle in his eyes surprised her. He held out his elbow until she took a firm hold.

They’d made peace and the reality felt good. His knocking her down made them even. She didn’t have to feel embarrassed anymore. If she was a clumsy oaf, then so was he. Now might be the perfect time to ask him about Maddie. When he seemed open and willing.

“Actually, this may have been a fortuitous but useful meeting,” she began, “us bumping into each other again.”

“Really?” He regarded her with curiosity as they inched along. “In what way?”

“Well, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, but the timing hasn’t been right.”

That had his attention. “Go on.”

Oh, why had she begun? He’d probably say no, and then they’d argue and ruin this nice truce they’d struck up. Still, she’d do anything for Maddie. They were almost down the gentle slope of the hill and would soon be on Main Street. “I wanted to request—” she blurted out, then stopped.

“Just say it, Mrs. Lane. We are both adults, are we not? You needn’t fear my reaction.”

Really? I have my doubts.
“Fine then. Remember you just said that.”

A rueful grin softened his face. “Have I been so stern to give you that impression of me? If yes, I’m sorry. Sometimes I get caught up in my thoughts, memories—ah, but I don’t mean to.” He patted her hand, the one clutching the crook of his arm. They were now on the boardwalk, heading for the bridge over Shady Creek.

Brenna drew a deep breath and plunged in. “I want to send Maddie to school on Monday with the other children. She’s of age and is very bright and—”

“The blind girl?”

Brenna swallowed. “Yes.”

“Mrs. Lane, I’m not equipped to handle a child with an infirmity like that.” His tone was kind, but fixed. Frank Lloyd came out of the bank across the dusty street. She could see his curious expression.

“What must he think?”

“Pardon me?”

“Mr. Lloyd, the banker. He’s watching, well . . .” She squeezed Mr. Hutton’s arm and his eyes widened as if just understanding her meaning.

“Oh, yes. I’ll explain to him the next time I see him. Now, where were we? In the daily routine of the school day the girl could get hurt, fall, bump her head on the side of a desk, or a number of other dangers. And she’d slow the other children down. I cannot allow it. I’m sorry.”

“Maddie gets along fine. She won’t be hurt.” Exasperation gripped her insides.

“I’m sure you mean well, wanting your daughter to fit in, go to class with the others, but that would just frustrate her. Surely you’re aware she is a child with special—”

“Of course I am, Mr. Hutton,” she said more forcefully than was polite. “Although Maddie isn’t my daughter, I wish she were. Her little heart is going to break into a thousand pieces when I tell her your answer is no. Won’t you please reconsider?”

All Brenna’s good feelings had flown the coop and been replaced with anger and frustration. How could he say no? It wasn’t right.

The man didn’t have a heart after all. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mrs. Lane. My answer remains the same.”

Several hours later, with the younger children fed and tucked away in bed, Brenna and Penny relaxed in the living room with a small fire. Penny reclined on the brown couch, reading a novel. Her legs were drawn up underneath her and a small crocheted blanket covered her lap as she leaned forward toward the lantern resting on a small side table. Brenna sat at the dinner table, a paper laid on the scarred wood, and a pen in hand. The glass-globed lantern in the center gave just enough light for her to work without straining her eyes. So deep in concentration, she didn’t realize she’d made a sound of distress until Penny looked her way.

“What is it, Mama?” Penny’s concerned tone made Brenna mentally wince. Her daughter had a way of carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Penny’s waist-length, coffee-colored hair was free, clean after being washed and dried in front of the flames.

Brenna dredged up a smile. “I’m just listing things I don’t want to forget.”
Like sending a telegram on Monday about the math books.

Penny glanced under the table to the overturned bucket where Brenna rested her sore ankle. “How’s it feel?”

“Much better. By tomorrow I won’t even recall I twisted it.” Remembering the alarm on the children’s faces when Mr. Hutton helped her through the front door brought a small frown. She was still angry with him. He’d been adamant in not changing his mind about Maddie. “Thank you for brewing me a cup of willow bark tea. I’m sure that’s why the pain is almost gone.”

Penny nibbled at her bottom lip, a nervous habit she had when contemplating a difficult subject. “That was the last of the tea. After church, I’ll run over to the Red Rooster and get some more from Mrs. Hollyhock.”

Brenna nodded, knowing it wasn’t the mention of the soothing tea she used each month to ease her menstrual cramps, and also the other aches and pains of her family, that had Penny pensive. Something else was on her daughter’s mind. “Be sure to take three pennies from the can to pay for it.”

Her daughter nodded. The moment stretched out.

“Penny?”

“What’s he like, Mama?”

“Mr. Hutton?”

Penny nodded again, the light playing off her hair like moonlight on a pond.

Brenna got up, hobbled over and settled next to Penny on the couch. She took her daughter’s hand and threaded her fingers through her own. Her eldest was a brooder, so much like her father. “He’s nice, sweetheart.”
As long as you’re not going against the grain. Well, that isn’t quite true. He was pleasant until I asked about Maddie.
“I believe the two of you will get along just fine.”

Penny’s face brightened. “He let me help today in the classroom, me being one of the oldest students and all. I just don’t know, though. What if I can’t measure up to his standards? I’ve heard tell he’s strict, and English is his hardest subject.”

“And it’s your best subject. Besides, all that talk about him being strict and unyielding is just speculation and rumor. I felt the same way when I was a girl and Mr. Pender came to our school. He had mean eyes and a sharp face. Nothing ever got past him. We all swore he must have eyes in the back of his head.”

Penny giggled.

“Your daddy got stood in the corner every single day for a whole year. It was almost to the point where he’d march there on his own without being asked.”

Her eyes were as wide as her smile. “Really?”

“Well, not quite.” Brenna laughed. “But close. Nevertheless, Mr. Pender turned out to be the best teacher I ever had. And once I got to know him, he didn’t seem mean at all. Strict—but kind in his serious sort of way.”

Brenna patted Penny’s hand, still captured in her own. “I know you and Mr. Hutton will do just fine.”

Penny blinked, her eyelids seemingly unwilling to stay open.

“It’s time for bed, my bright, beautiful, girl. You know that’s when your body rests and grows tall and strong.”

Penny pulled a small frown as she stood and pushed some hair from her eyes. “I don’t need to grow any more, Mama. Last year, I was taller than everyone in class, including all the boys.”

Brenna stood and followed Penny into the girls’ bedroom. She pulled down the cover, being careful not to wake Jane or Maddie, then plumped the pillow. “Sleep tight,” she whispered. “No worries tonight, they’ll keep till later just fine.” With a glance to the small cross on the wall over the children’s heads, Brenna thought about taking her own advice. There was nothing she could do about the books, or Maddie, until Monday. Those problems would keep, as well.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

S
orry again, Georgia.” Standing in the barn doorway, Charlie listened to the sound of Nell laughing like a girl. It brought lightness to his heart.

“Charlie,” Nell said in surprise, and took a stumbling step back, spooking the docile Georgia again. Right before his eyes, her cheeks went from their normal rosy hue to an overripe strawberry pink.

He suppressed a smile. “Are you trying to traumatize my poor horse? She’s supposed to be resting, not dodging grooming tools and clumsy, frightened women.”

Nell straightened. “I’m no frightened woman. I take offense at you calling me that.”

Still fighting a chuckle, he shifted his reins to his other hand and repositioned the quilt gripped in his arms. He’d spent the past two hours slowly riding the trails from town to the ranch, trying to get his thoughts straightened out. He’d wanted desperately to ride back to the school and snatch Maddie up into his arms. But he’d be foolish to consider bringing her back into his life before he knew everything was safe, before he even had a home for her. As much as he wanted to, he had to be settled first so she’d have a firm foundation.

On top of that, he had to be patient. The past months of worrying and running would be for nothing if he jumped the gun and led trouble right to her door. He needed to slow down. Stick with his original plan. Maddie was fine for the time being. She was well fed and happy, despite the trauma of losing Miss Baxter. The best place for her to be was right where she was, with Brenna Lane, while he worked out the details of his life. Now that he’d actually met the woman, he felt even better about his daughter’s living arrangements.

He glanced over at Nell and found some hurt or sorrow lingering deep in her eyes. What was it about? She did her best to cover it, but now and again her pain slipped out. Maybe while he was here he could help her somehow. At least he could be her friend. “Don’t take offense. I’m just having some fun. Anyone can see you enjoy your horses and would do anything for them.”

She regarded him through her lashes, the color of her face deepening, “Of course I do—and would. I especially like your mare, Charlie. She has a good sense of humor.”

While he wrestled for an answer to her strange statement, she lifted the quilt from his arms and walked over to her brother. A move quite bold for her, he thought.

She held the quilt out to Seth. “Mrs. Hollyhock and the others did a lovely job. Each square is completely different, sort of like telling the story of Logan Meadows.” She pointed to the top portion of the folded quilt. “That’s Win’s livery with Maximus and Clementine in the corral. An extremely good likeness, I must say. Here’s the bridge on Main Street and the Red Rooster Inn.” Her hand brushed over the top of the fabric almost reverently. “I can’t wait to open up the whole thing.”

Seth looked at the quilt so long without saying anything that Nell jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

“Ouch.” He scratched his head, obviously perplexed. “Why on earth would anyone cut up fabric just to sew it back together again?” He chuckled. “Makes no sense at all. But I have to admit, I like this one of the mercantile with the bakery alongside. This quilt must be worth a good amount of money.”

Nell pulled back and turned to Charlie. “You’re not going to sell it, are you?”

“Nope.” Charlie shook his head. “Actually, I’d like you to have it, Nell.” He’d planned to give his prize to Maddie when they were together, but that seemed a shame because, being blind, his daughter wouldn’t be able to appreciate the craftsmanship to its fullest.

Nell’s eyes widened. “Me? I couldn’t take this. It’s much too nice. Much too valuable. Where would I keep it?”

“What kind of question is that?” He tried to hide the enjoyment that warmed his gut at the surprised pleasure on her face. “Where does anyone put a quilt? On their bed, for one.”