Pony Express Courtship, page 8
“Mrs. Miller, I am excited.” Rebecca clapped her hands in glee.
“Now, now, Rebecca. If we are going to live together, you must stop calling me Mrs. Miller. Fay will do nicely.” Fay’s words chided, but her voice simmered with barely checked relief and joy.
Jacob came out of the store with a large box full of supplies. He looked from his mother to the older woman, but respect for his elders kept him from asking the questions she felt sure were on the tip of his tongue.
“Jacob, Fay is moving in with us,” Rebecca announced, sliding an arm around the older woman’s shoulders.
To her son’s credit he acted as if things like this were an everyday occurrence at their house. “Well, Mrs. Miller, all orphans are welcome at our place, even older ones.”
Rebecca saw at once that Jacob could not have said anything that would please Fay more. She beamed with pride at her son.
The woman’s eyes widened and she clasped her hands together and placed them over her heart. Her voice seemed to have lodged in her throat because all she said was “Aw.”
“Jacob, I need you to take the supplies and the younger children back to the farm, while I help her pack.”
He carried the box to the wagon. “Yes, Ma.” He set it in the back with the little kids and then turned to face her once more. “Would you like a ride back to her house?”
“Did you get us candy?” Benjamin asked. The picture book had been forgotten.
“I think we’ll walk,” Fay answered, smiling happily. She turned to look at Rebecca. “If that’s all right with you?”
Jacob answered Benjamin by handing each of them a peppermint stick. “Here you go, buddy.”
“That is fine with me,” Rebecca answered. She looped her arm inside the older woman’s and started to walk toward Fay’s house. “I can use the exercise.”
Jacob pulled himself onto the wagon and then called after them, “Ma, what about supper?”
Rebecca stopped and grinned at him. “I guess it’s a sandwich night for you all. There is ham in the larder and fresh bread. For dessert you can open a few jars of peaches. Joy will help you. Won’t you, Joy?”
The little girl licked the sticky candy from her fingers and nodded.
“Oh, and Jacob, go ahead and move your things out to the barn. Mrs. Miller will be staying in your room.”
“If this is too much trouble—” Fay began but Rebecca cut her off.
“Why, it’s no trouble at all. We will be helping each other out of troublesome situations and as for my family...they will be fine for one day.” She turned back to the wagon. “You all be good and mind Jacob.”
Both of her youngest children answered, “Yes, Ma.”
Jacob nodded. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at Mrs. Miller’s.”
Rebecca waved at them as he turned the horses around and then headed home. It had been a long time since she had been childless. And she’d never asked them to fend for their own dinner. For a moment Rebecca wondered if she was doing the right thing, then shook off the slight feeling of guilt. Mrs. Miller needed her and she needed the older woman. For the first time in a while, Rebecca felt as if she had a companion, maybe even someone she could confide in.
* * *
Seth looked up as the wagon rumbled into the yard. He immediately noticed that Rebecca wasn’t with Jacob and the two youngest children. He hurried to the wagon. “Where is your mother?”
Jacob jumped down from the wagon and then helped Joy over the side. “She stayed in town to help Mrs. Miller pack her things. I’m to go back for them tomorrow.”
“Who is Mrs. Miller?” Seth asked.
Jacob picked up the box of kitchen supplies and handed them to Benjamin. “Beni, take these to the kitchen and set them on the table.” He turned to face Seth. “Mrs. Miller is a widow woman from town. Her husband passed away a few years ago and she has no children. I heard while I was in the store that the man who owns her house kicked her out this morning. I imagine Ma felt sorry for her and invited her to live out here.”
“That was mighty nice of her,” Seth said thoughtfully. Had Rebecca seen Mrs. Miller as a chaperone of sorts? Would her presence keep the townsfolk from gossiping about them? He hoped it would.
Andrew and Clayton walked out of the barn. Clayton laid the pitchfork he’d had in his hands against the wall. “Where’s Ma?” Andrew asked, looking around as if he thought something terrible had happened to their mother.
“In town,” Jacob answered.
Seth motioned for the boys to come closer. “Grab a saddle and take it to the barn.” He turned his attention back to Jacob. “There are only three saddles here.”
Jacob nodded. “Yep, that’s all Mr. Grey had that we could buy today. I figured three would do until we got supplies from the Pony Express.”
Seth picked up a bridle and examined the leather. “They won’t be sending saddles and bridles. I’ll go pick up the women and stop by Mr. Grey’s tomorrow. Hopefully, we’ll be able to order a couple more of each. What did you find out about hay?”
Jacob sat down on the bed of the wagon. “Mr. Browning has extra hay he can sell to us.”
Seth nodded. He tried to focus on what Jacob was saying about the hay, but couldn’t take his mind off Rebecca. What was she doing? Was she packing up Mrs. Miller and laughing? He loved her laugh. Sometimes she laughed softly and brought her hand up to quiet the giggles. Other times she burst out laughing, the sound floating up from her throat, most often at something one of the kids said or did. But her joy was always infectious, bringing a ready smile to others. With the widow coming to live with Rebecca, would their nightly chats on the porch end? Deep down Seth hoped not; he hated to admit it, but he’d miss those chats if they did. Then again, he’d begun to care about Rebecca and that was dangerous.
* * *
The next morning, Seth hitched up the wagon. His stomach growled and he grinned. Joy had decided to make breakfast for everyone and had served burned eggs, bacon and toast. He’d tried not to hurt the little girl’s feelings but couldn’t quite eat what she served.
It had been fun, though, watching her brothers distract her. While one pretended to eat the breakfast, another would rake theirs onto a plate below the table and pass it to the next one.
Clayton had rustled the plate outside. Seth had no idea what the boy had done with the burned mess once he was out of the house, but was glad that he hadn’t had to choke it down. Little Joy had been thrilled to see all their cleaned plates.
Jacob had scolded his sister for cooking without supervision all while trying not to grin. They really were a unique and fun family to be around.
Once the wagon was hitched, he checked in on the boys and Joy. Jacob had taken both Joy and Benjamin under his wing. He had Beni mucking out one of the stalls and Joy rubbing oil into the leather on one of the saddles. Jacob himself forked fresh straw into each of the stalls. The other five boys each had a chore and were busy doing them. Seth sniffed appreciatively. New wood and new leather. What a combination.
“Jacob, I need you to make sure everything runs smoothly while I’m gone.” Seth leaned against the barn door and met the young man’s eyes.
Jacob laughed. There was no anger or animosity in his voice when he said, “I was doing that before you came along. I think I can do it again for one day.”
Seth chuckled. “See that you do.”
An hour later, he arrived in town. The streets teemed with people coming and going. He pulled the wagon beside the livery yard. Seth leaped down and walked to the general store. In most towns the general store was the meeting place for everyone. Seth hoped to get a bite to eat and then find out where Mrs. Miller lived. He pushed the door open and the little bell sounded off, announcing his arrival.
The storekeeper came out from behind the counter. “How can I help you, stranger?” he asked.
The place was empty of customers, which surprised Seth. He walked over to the apple bin and pulled out a handful of dried apple. “I mainly came in for directions,” he answered, taking a big bite from the fruit.
“As soon as you pay for the apples, I’ll be happy to give you directions,” the big man answered.
Seth looked at the marked price and pulled money from his pocket. “That should cover this handful.” Seth handed it to the storekeeper. “Sorry about that. I forgot myself.”
The big man took the money and walked back to his counter and the register. “Where do you need directions to?” he asked, dropping the coins in the drawer.
“Mrs. Miller’s house,” he answered, studying the man while he chewed. The store owner was tall and big-bellied, and his eyes were hard. Nothing about the man appealed to Seth. He seemed like a bully, which might explain why there were no customers in his store.
“Now, what business do you have with that sweet old woman?”
Seth could tell that the man didn’t care about the woman but was simply being nosy. “It’s a private matter and my own.”
The man nodded. “I see.” He stepped from around the counter and puffed up his chest, all the while tapping the side of his head and squinting as if he’d forgotten something. “You know, my memory isn’t as good as it used to be.”
“Then I won’t waste any more of your time.” Seth turned on his heels and left the store. He stood on the boardwalk and looked up and down Main Street. The last time he’d been in town he hadn’t really taken the time to look around. He figured he had a few minutes and decided to do just that. His eyes scanned each building.
Dove Creek wasn’t a very big town. Next to the general store was a small house—he assumed the general-store owner lived in it—and next to it was the doctor’s home and office. On the next block sat the bank. It seemed to fill the whole block.
Seth walked toward the bank. Surely the banker would know where Mrs. Miller lived.
He entered the bank and looked about. Dark panel covered the walls and floor. A big desk sat in the middle of the room. He noted offices off to the sides and a staircase that led to the second floor.
Several people stood around the room. A line had formed in front of the bank-teller cage. He noticed that a checkerboard had been set up in one corner of the bank and two elderly gentlemen sat playing the game.
It dawned on Seth that this had become the meeting place of the townspeople instead of the general store. How odd, he thought.
“May I help you?” asked the man sitting at the desk.
Seth walked over to him. “Yes, I am looking for a Mrs. Miller.”
“I’m sorry, no one works here by that name,” the man said, looking down at the pile of papers in front of him.
He realized his mistake and tried again. “No, I don’t expect she does. I was wondering if you could direct me to her house.”
Once more the man looked up. “No, I’m not sure that I could and even if I could, I’m not sure that I would or should.” His eyes moved up and down Seth as if assessing his appearance.
“Is there someone here that can tell me?” Seth asked, beginning to feel flustered and realizing that he was drawing quite a bit of attention from the others.
The man sighed and stood. “Wait right here.”
Seth nodded. The man walked toward one of the offices. He knocked on the door and entered shortly afterward. Maybe the bank wasn’t the best place to ask for directions, he thought as he waited.
It felt as if everyone watched him, but Seth knew that was ridiculous. The line continued to move where the two bank tellers were working. He looked down at the chair in front of the desk and thought about sitting down to wait, but at that moment the man reappeared.
When he was within hearing distance, he said. “I’m sorry, sir. Bank policy is to not give out personal information on our depositors.”
Well, that was good to know. Seth nodded his understanding and then turned to leave. The man laid a hand on his arm. He looked at him. With a nod of his head toward the old-timers playing checkers, the man said in a low voice, “But there is nothing to stop you from asking around.”
Seth grinned. “Thank you. I think I will see how the game is going.”
The man nodded once and dropped his hand. “Thank you for coming in. If you ever need help opening an account, come on back in.”
The two men looked up when Seth approached their table. “Good morning, gentlemen. I was wondering if either of you could tell me where Mrs. Miller lives. My name is Seth Armstrong and I’m supposed to pick up her and Mrs. Young this morning, but I forgot to get the address from Jacob.”
One of the men held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Armstrong. I’m Caleb Smith and this is my brother-in-law, Marcus Boyd.” He returned to his game.
Seth leaned against the wall and waited. Sometimes older fellas wanted time to think about their next move both in life and while playing a game. Mr. Boyd jumped two of Mr. Smith’s pieces.
With a grin, he looked up at Seth. “She lives behind the bank here. Her house is the one with the windows boarded up. I saw that landlord of hers boarding them up this morning. Just go to the end of the block and turn left. You won’t miss it.” He returned his focus to the game.
“Much obliged.” Seth walked out of the bank.
The bright sunshine felt good on his face. He hurried to the livery and climbed aboard the wagon. If all went well, he’d have the ladies out to the farm by dinnertime.
As the horses rounded the corner, he saw Rebecca carrying a box to the edge of the street. He waved at her as he set the brake.
“Good morning, Mr. Armstrong.”
Mr. Armstrong? Seth didn’t like that. “Good morning, Mrs. Young.” He frowned, not liking how that sounded any better.
“We’re just about done packing,” she said as she turned to walk back to the house. “I thought Jacob or Andrew would be coming for us.”
Seth jumped down from the wagon and caught up with her. “I had Pony Express business to take care of.”
“Are you finished with your business?” she asked, turning to face him.
“No, I wanted to find you first.” Seth looked down into her pretty blue eyes. He should have taken care of ordering the saddles and tack before searching for her. Confusion filled his mind as he questioned his own motives for coming to her first.
“Why?”
That was the question of the moment, wasn’t it? His gaze moved to the wagon. “I thought you might like to have the wagon to start loading up Mrs. Miller’s things.”
“Oh. Well. That was very sweet of you,” she answered, though her expression made him think she doubted that was what he’d intended.
“I’ll go take care of my business and then come back and help you finish loading,” he offered.
Mrs. Miller came out of the kitchen. She smiled at Seth.
“Hello.”
He nodded at her, tipping his hat. She was a plump little woman with graying brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. Seth fought the urge to stare. She reminded him of his grandmother. A lump the size of river bedrock clogged his throat and he quickly turned away from the women. “I’ll be back shortly.” He was surprised that his vocal chords worked at all. He hurried away and couldn’t get away from them fast enough. His heart felt as if someone had plunged a knife through it. He’d thought he was done grieving for the woman who raised him, but he was wrong.
He walked to the livery with a heavy heart. Seeing Mrs. Miller made him realize that he needed to finish his job with the Pony Express so he could find the mail-order bride he’d promised his grandmother he’d marry. He had to get away from the family that made him long to be a part of them.
Chapter Nine
A few days later, Rebecca happily baked sugar cookies in the kitchen while Joy played on the rug in the living room. The little girl had helped to make the batter and shape the sweet treats, but for the actual baking process, Rebecca insisted that she do it alone.
Fay sat at the table reading her Bible. Every so often the older woman would say “Amen.” Or “Yes, yes, Lord.” Rebecca knew she wasn’t talking to her, but to her Bible and God. It hadn’t taken Rebecca long to learn that Fay had a true love for their Lord. She prayed that someday she’d have the same strong convictions as Fay. Oh, Rebecca loved the Lord, but knew she failed Him in many ways.
Having Fay around the house had turned into a wonderful blessing. The older woman pitched in with the chores and meal preparation. She helped the boys if they needed something done, such as mending a sock or washing a shirt. And could the woman ever cook! What a blessing that was to Rebecca. She thanked the Lord she no longer had to eat her own cooking all the time.
At first, she’d been worried about how the kids would adapt to Fay moving in, but they all welcomed her with open arms. Fay said she enjoyed having them around and helping out around the house.
“What time will the stage arrive?” Fay asked, looking up from her Bible.
Rebecca glanced at the clock that sat beside the stove. “In about thirty minutes. Mr. Bromley sent a new schedule and it said around one.” She looked at the plates of cookies and the sandwiches. “Do you think I should offer hot tea for the ladies?”
Fay shrugged. “If you have it, it can’t hurt.” A grin split her face. “I wouldn’t mind having a cup myself.”
“Then I’ll make a pot.” Rebecca pulled her other coffeepot from under the cabinet and poured fresh water into it. John had spoiled her years ago by purchasing the extra pot. Every day she found some way to remember him.
As she made the tea, Rebecca allowed her thoughts to linger on her deceased husband. When she’d taken the job here on the farm as his mother’s helper, she’d never dreamed they’d end up married. John’s father had wanted his son married before he passed on and since Rebecca was the only gal around who was close to his age, John had offered to marry her when his mother died. By doing so, he’d fulfilled his father’s wish and made sure that Rebecca would always be cared for. They had been good friends, and even though they weren’t in love, he’d made sure she was happy. Somewhere along the way she supposed it might have turned into a deep love, the valuable kind, because how could you not love someone that forever put your happiness above his own. And he’d done that with everyone connected to him—the boys, Rebecca and most certainly the child of his heart, Joy.
