West Winds of Wyoming (9 page)

W
hat is it, Mama?” Penny asked. Her eyes grew round. “What’s wrong?”

Brenna willed herself to breathe. Her instantly dry mouth felt like a flowerbed in mid-July. She’d overlooked ordering the six copies of
First Lessons in Numbers: Oral and Written
before the term started.
How could I be so careless?
At her request, Maude had corresponded with the publishing company several months back, with plenty of time for them to be ordered and delivered. The supplier had responded that they were out of stock and asked her to write back later. Last week she’d gone into the mercantile with that express intention and must have gotten to talking and forgotten.

Mr. Lloyd was almost upon them. “Nothing is wrong, Penny. Now run inside and tell Mr. Hutton thank you very much for sending out my list and then go down and see that Maddie and Markus don’t get overwhelmed at the sign-in table. Hurry now. People are arriving all at once.”

Mrs. Hollyhock went up on tippy-toe to see the clipboard. “Ya sure yer all right?” One couldn’t pull the wool over Violet’s eyes. “Something on that list has yer eyes buggin’ out of their sockets. Can I help?”

“No, Mrs. Hollyhock. I’m fine. I just want to be sure everything is perfect today and for the rest of the school term.”

“That’s a pretty tall order, missy. One thing is certain—and that is nothin’ is certain.” She patted Brenna’s hand and then headed toward Jessie Logan, who was a few feet away chatting with Hannah’s mother, Mrs. Brown. “You let me know if ya change yer mind, Brenna,” she said over her shoulder.

“Ah, Mrs. Lane, just the woman I wanted to see.”

Mr. Lloyd always dressed nice, and today was no exception. He wore one of the shirts she’d mended for him.

“You’ve done a fine job,” he said, glancing around. “Who knows how many more chances we’ll have to enjoy a picnic before the weather changes. If you remember last year, winter came early.”

Brenna tried to give the banker her full attention, but all she could think about was that aggravating Mr. Hutton and the forgotten math books. Even if she had Maude send a telegram today or tomorrow, the books wouldn’t arrive to Logan Meadows before school started.

“Thank you, Mr. Lloyd,” she replied, trying to stop the quiver in her hands. “I had plenty of help. All I had to do was show up.”

His brow wrinkled skeptically. “I hardly think so. Someone had to be in charge to delegate. The school council is very lucky to have you.”

She wished the bank owner would stop singing her praises. She felt like a fool. A failure. The only reason she’d run for the council position was because Penny wanted her to. Her oldest’s face had lit up like the sun when she came home from school last year. The former teacher, Miss Thomas, had told the children that names were being considered for the coming year’s term. They needed volunteers—new volunteers. Betty Brinkley, who had several grandchildren in the school, had been the chairwoman for the past six years and she was tired.

If Hannah hadn’t asked everyone in town to vote for Brenna, she never would have won. At the time, the position sounded exciting. New. A challenge to be won. And an excellent example to set for her children. Now, she’d gone and forgotten to order one of the most important books for the term. The humiliation of her failure would be devastating, but she could handle it. She’d been taking charity up until last year and she had plenty of practice with unpretentiousness. Penny was the one she worried about, as well as the other children. Even Maddie would hear the talk once everyone found out. Dear God, what would Mr. Hutton think of her then?

“Appears we arrived right on time,” Charlie said. He and Nell rode down Main Street, him on the black and Nell on her chestnut-paint gelding. She carried a crock filled with hard-boiled eggs that she’d made last night. Her long braid hung down her back almost to her belt. They’d successfully brought in the eight head of horses yesterday without too much problem. Seth, completely tired out, opted to stay home.

Nell nodded. “Seems like the open house is just getting started. We’ll ride over by the alders and tie the horses there.”

Anticipation hummed though Charlie, making him sit straight in the saddle regardless of his sore hip and pinched back. Getting the three-year-olds home hadn’t been easy. He’d been bumped and jostled. He’d actually been jerked from the saddle once when he was slow on the dally and Drag Anchor hadn’t obliged to come along nicely. He hadn’t fallen off since he was a kid, and had forgotten how badly it hurt to hit the ground like a sack of corn.

But aching muscles couldn’t dampen his spirits. Today he’d see Maddie. She was certain to be here among all the townspeople.

His eyes searched the grassy hummock for a small girl with nut-colored hair and sparkling blue eyes. But at the same time, he had to be on guard for Grover Galante, or anyone Galante may have sent. It was too soon to think he was out of the woods just yet.

Children darted here and there. A small group milled around the open door to the schoolhouse, but no Maddie.
Where is she?
His anticipation was replaced by worry.
Has something happened to her?

They dismounted, tied their horses and walked over to where folks lined up past a tall tree. They stopped behind the last person.

A train whistle blasted through the air. Everyone swiveled. Nell shaded out the sun with her hand. “Here comes the Union Pacific.”

The shiny black engine rounded the bend a quarter mile away, a plume of smoke billowing from the smokestack. The engineer blew the whistle again and the townspeople cheered, sending the children into a round of excited laughter.

Nell smiled. “The newness hasn’t worn off. I know I’ve enjoyed the convenience. Makes travel easy. I took a trip into Cheyenne last year when all the work was finished.”

“Business?”

“Of a sort. But I had a nice stay over in a hotel for the first time. Especially liked the soaking tub and soft mattress.”

Nell was such an odd mixture. Just when he figured she needed space and privacy, she opened up, sharing some little detail of her life.

The screech of the steel brakes ripped through the air all the way from the depot. Conversations started back up, and the line slowly moved forward.

“What’s this about?” Charlie gestured ahead of them. “Selling some sort of raffle tickets?”

“Yes. A quilt.” She pointed to the side of the school building where the colorful prize was displayed against the wall. “Ten cents a ticket or four for a quarter. The article in the newspaper told all about it.”

Her eyes lovingly adored the quilt, which surprised him. Then she smiled fondly at a group of children that walked by—confirming what Seth had hinted at about her wanting children of her own. She wasn’t one for housekeeping, and she didn’t seem to care much about what she wore—or what she cooked. But she always smelled sweet, like a just-picked bundle of lavender. He took a whiff now, the corners of his mouth pulling up in a smile.

“What?”

She’d caught him.

“Nothing. Just wondering what they’ll be serving for supper.”
She’s twenty
, he reminded himself.
Much too young to know about motherly things. Maddie needs to learn about girl stuff, not breaking horses.

“I’ll take two tickets,” the man at the head of the line said.

The large woman directly in front of them stepped forward, then leaned in close to her companion. “It’s such a shame. I wonder how she gets along being blind. Without Markus and Penny, she’d have a hard time finding the paper scraps. I’ve been watching her.”

“Oh, pooh,” her friend uttered. “She’s doing a fine job. I don’t care if the process takes a little longer. What else do we have to do today? I’m happy to see she’s settled in after her odd appearance into town.”

The line moved forward again. “Come along,” the woman said, “we’re next.”

CHAPTER NINE

C
harlie stepped forward, though he was pretty sure his heart had dropped to the ground back there. Maddie? Odd appearance into town? What did the woman mean?

They were nearly to the front of the line, and he could see the table. Maddie—his Maddie—sat between a boy about her size and an older girl, the one she’d been with the other day. If he wanted, he could step forward and run his hand down her soft hair. Tears blurred his vision and he rubbed a palm across his face. He’d missed her so much.

She carefully held out pieces of paper for the raffle. The buyer would write their name, then drop the scrap into a pink-glass pickle jar that sat in the middle of the table.

“Charlie?” Nell’s voice held a ripple of humor. “What’s gotten into you, anyway? Get up here.”

The rotund woman and her friend had moved away and Nell had stepped up to the sign-in table. She’d set her bowl of boiled eggs on the tabletop and had already signed her name in a little book. She grasped his sleeve and dragged him forward.

Maddie’s pulse thrummed in the side of her neck, making Charlie think of a hummingbird, as the sight always did. Sunshine glistened in her hair and the freckles across the top of her nose had deepened, a sure sign she got outdoors more often than she had in Wilsonville.
Good. She loves the sound of the birds.

Nell, a curious expression on her face, handed him the pencil so he could sign the book. Swallowing nervously, he fought to keep his hand steady as he listened to Nell buy four raffle tickets. She scribbled out her name. “Aren’t you gonna buy any chances, Charlie? It’s for a good cause.”

The smile on Maddie’s face faded. She glanced around uncertainly, as if she sensed his presence. Worry lines furrowed her forehead. The day they’d exchanged their goodbyes rushed into his mind with the force of a plow breaking new earth.

He locked the front door to his gunsmith shop and hurried out the back, jogging the half block to Miss Baxter’s rented alley house.

Galante had tried again to get the sheriff to arrest him. Unsuccessful, Galante had vowed to take the matter into his own hands. An eye for an eye, even if his son was the one who’d been in the wrong. Charlie didn’t like the sound of that. The time had come to send Maddie away.

He dashed into the house without knocking, making the old woman drop the canister of flour she held in her hands. Puffs of white went everywhere, then settled into drifts around her feet. “Mr. Axelrose. What on earth?”

“Pa?”

“Yeah, Maddie, it’s me. Sorry to scare you.”

With an outstretched hand, she made her way by feel in his direction and he met her halfway. He wrapped her in his arms and picked her up, memorizing the sensation her closeness created in his soul. Over her head, his gaze sought Miss Baxter’s.

Setting Maddie’s feet back on the floor, he squatted to her level, the sight of her almost breaking his heart. Her rosebud lips smiled, but he could tell she was frightened. She couldn’t hide the worry from her large, sightless eyes.

“It’s time, Maddie. I want you to gather your things.”

She reached out with her small hand and gripped the fabric of his shirt just above the pocket. “I won’t leave you, Pa. I don’t want to go. I can stay. I can help.”

He turned her toward the bedroom. “Go do as I asked, darlin’, while I talk with Miss Baxter. Time is short. Don’t forget what we talked about. Not saying anything about who you are or where you’re from until I come and get you. I want you to grow up someplace safe. Where good people have a chance. That place isn’t here.”

“Hey, move along.” Behind him in line someone grumbled and gave him a nudge. Charlie snapped back to the present. He nodded and held up two fingers.

Nell laughed. “Is this some sort of strange game? He’ll have two tickets, I guess, Maddie. You’re as pretty as a picture today. How are you?”

“Fine, Mrs. Page.” Maddie’s voice reminded him of bells on a Christmas sleigh. They made him long to swoop her into a hug and never let her go. She looked so much like Annie that his heart burned.

Maddie’s smile returned. She felt around the paper cigar box and fished out two small pieces of paper. She held them out to him with her delicate hand.