The Cowboy Tutor
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They all shook their heads. He let them think his mother had lost everything in the collapse of the financial markets. Only in her case, it was a scoundrel who’d brought about her personal crash.
Mrs. Morgan continued. “At least she has you to help.”
“And three more sons.”
“Four boys?” Mrs. Morgan perked up.
He wondered if she regretted having only daughters.
“I expect your mother is well taken care of.”
“She is now.” Shoot. He shouldn’t have said “now.” Four pairs of eyebrows shot upwards, and four pairs of eyes demanded an explanation. Aware of an especially intense gaze from across the table, he turned to Mrs. Morgan, afraid his emotions might reveal themselves despite his best intentions. Could he explain without giving away more than was safe? “We didn’t realize how badly she needed help. She had too much pride to confess it. Somehow she managed to hide it even from Levi, who is still living at home.”
“Tell us about your brothers. Is Levi the youngest?”
“Yes. He’s seventeen. Redford is the next one. He’s teaching. Has been for…well, he’s twenty-three, so I guess he’s been teaching four years now. Then Carson is a lawyer. He’s a year younger than I am.”
“How old would that make him?” Madge demanded.
Judd tucked away a smile. Curious about him, was she? Even though she watched him with as much concentration as did Louisa’s small dog. “Carson is twenty-five.”
They studied each other across the table, measuring, assessing. He wished he didn’t have to conceal the truth about who he was. But he did. Determination stiffened his muscles, making his mouth tighten.
Her eyes narrowed. “How did you hurt your leg?”
“Madge!” Mrs. Morgan sounded as if she couldn’t believe her daughter, though whether because her question was so bold or because of the hint of mockery in her voice.
“I got thrown from a wild horse.” At least that part was true.
Louisa gasped. “A wild horse? Why would you be riding such a creature?”
“My job was to break him. I decided to do it the fast way. Only it proved to be the slow way for me. Someone else had to finish the job while I lay around recuperating.” Again, that part was true.
Madge squinted at him. “I thought you were a teacher. Isn’t that why you went to university?”
He chuckled, pleased he confounded her with the truth. “After a year of teaching I realized I didn’t really like the job, so I let Redford apply for the position and I headed to the foothills. That’s where I was when my mother lost her home.” If he’d been around, he might have seen what was happening. Perhaps been able to stop it.
Instead, he’d been away, unaware of events, but he aimed to right things as best he could now. The man responsible for his mother’s loss would not escape without somehow paying. Judd didn’t much care how, so long as he paid. He’d watch the man, see what he planned, who he picked for his next victim, then confront him, expose him to one and all, make him own the truth and then turn him over to the law. He wondered if the courts would make him repay his victims. Sometimes he considered taking the law into his own hands but so far had listened to the voice of reason—or moderation, perhaps—drilled into him by his mother.
“Where is your mother living now?”
Mrs. Morgan’s question pulled him back to the watchful interest of Madge and the quiet curiosity of her sisters. “Mother and Levi found a good home with Carson in Regina, Saskatchewan.”
“I’m glad. It must be a relief for her.”
“And me.”
Mrs. Morgan’s gaze softened. “Your mother is blessed to have sons who care about her.”
“She’s doubly blessed. Her faith has never faltered. She’s certain God will take care of her no matter what.” She’d repeated the words over and over as she tried to make Judd understand the man who stole her money shouldn’t be hunted down and tied to a fence to dry. “‘God,’ she’d said, ‘is in control. He will see to justice.’”
“As do I,” Mrs. Morgan said. “Girls, I want to assure you I interviewed Justin at length about his faith, and he convinced me he is a strong believer.”
At her faith in him, guilt burned up Judd’s throat. He certainly believed in God, had become a Christian when he was only eight, but he wasn’t willing to sit back and wait for God to take care of things that were in his power to deal with. Like the man who stole his mother’s life savings.
“Where were you when you broke your leg?” Madge sounded like Carson with his best lawyer voice. Her question was more than a question; it was a demand for an explanation.
“On a ranch in the foothills of Alberta.”
“A cowboy.” She sounded as if that explained everything.
His heart fell as he realized his words verified her suspicions about meeting him on the street a week ago when he’d been dressed as a cowboy rather than a teacher. In hindsight, it might have been better to disguise that fact. But it was too late now. Somehow he had to convince her—all of them—he was no longer a cowboy. He shrugged and remembered to cough. “It seemed like a good idea at the time, but it’s not as romantic and adventuresome as one might think. It’s mostly hard, unrelenting work that wears many a man down to the bone.” He spoke the truth—a relief to his burning conscience, though it wasn’t an opinion he shared.
“Wouldn’t the fresh air be good for your lungs?” Madge asked, her voice signaling a touch of disbelief.
“Madge, I’m sure Justin doesn’t care to have his health problems as part of our conversation.”
Madge gave her mother an apologetic smile, then fixed Judd with an uncompromising look. He didn’t claim any special powers at reading a woman’s mind, but he got her loud and clear. She silently warned him she would be challenging everything he said and did.
He would have to guard his words and steps carefully.
She pulled her gaze away and pushed back from the table. “It’s getting late. I’ve lingered too long. Sally, Mother, do you mind if I don’t assist with dishes tonight? I still have to get the cow and calf home and milk the cow. I have laundry to deliver to two customers as well as pickup for tomorrow’s customers.”
“I’ll help you.” Judd pushed back, then remembered his frail health and struggled with getting his breath. He’d watched her pack heavy baskets of wet laundry up the stairs. Fought an urge to assist as she’d emptied the tubs.
“No need.”
Louisa released a sigh, causing Judd to think she’d been holding her breath for a long time. “I wondered if we could do more lessons tonight.”
“Louisa, I don’t want you overtaxed,” Mrs. Morgan said. “Besides, I told Justin he would have the evenings to do as he wished.”
“Of course, Mother.”
Judd already realized how hungry Louisa was to learn. If the students he’d had in school had been half as eager, he might have found teaching a little more rewarding. But even then it wouldn’t have satisfied his love of wide-open spaces. Ranching had called to him. It was still in his blood. As soon as he finished with this other business, he’d head west again and perhaps find a place where he could start his own little ranch.
“I don’t need help.” Madge interrupted his thoughts. “But you’re welcome to accompany me. I could show you around a bit.”
The warning in her eyes let him know she had more in mind than friendly welcome. His lungs twisted with anticipation.
Mental dueling with Miss Madge might prove to be a lot of fun.
Chapter Three
“Where are we going?” Justin asked as he limped along beside her.
Her first thought had been to stride as fast as usual, leaving him to catch up as best he could, but she’d invited him to accompany her for a specific reason—to try to discover who he really was—the cowboy she’d seen on the street or this weak, namby-pamby man who seemed to prefer books to cows and horses. She’d glimpsed eagerness as he’d talked about ranching. Unintentional, she was certain. But it made her more curious. More convinced he hid something. More confused on how she felt about him.
“I’m forced to take the pair wherever I can find something for them to eat, even if it’s only weeds, which make the milk taste awful. Louisa needs the nourishment.”
“How do you plan to feed them through the winter?”
The question was continually on her mind. “I’ve kept the calf for butcher.” Feeding another animal strained her resources, but if she could provide adequate food for the family… “I hope I can trade some of the meat for winter fodder.”
“Though if no one has any feed…”
She knew as well as he how scarce hay would be. “Perhaps we can get some shipped in.”
“Or might be a farmer is giving up and ready to part with what he’s scraped together.”
“In exchange for cash, which is as hard to find as hay.”
They fell into a contemplative silence. Suddenly she realized how easy it had been to talk to him about her problems, how comfortable they’d fit into each other’s strides, even with his limp, and how she ached to tell him everything crowding her brain. But she didn’t trust him, she didn’t want to be attracted to him, and even though she’d seen him first, he was Mother’s pick for Louisa. Her protests chased through her thoughts like runaway children. “I must hurry. The cow will be begging to be milked by now.” She lengthened her stride, forcing him to step, hop and limp to keep up. She slowed and chuckled.
He caught up to her and coughed a little, though she noted he wasn’t out of breath.
“Something funny?” he asked.
“Yes. Us. Look at me. My chin stuck out, rushing across the prairie like I’m trying to outrun a fire, while you hop along like a rabbit with a broken foot. Anyone seeing us would surely shake their head in disbelief.” She laughed again, then realized how he might interpret her comments and clamped a hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to mock your limp.”
He only laughed, his eyes flashing with amusement. His dark gaze held hers as she gave another nervous laugh. She wasn’t sure if she should be embarrassed more by her ill-considered comment, her continuing suspicion or the way her heart lurched as his look invited her into exciting territory full of adventure, excitement and something she couldn’t…wouldn’t…try to identify—a sense of connection.
She tore her gaze away and forced her steps toward the little slough where she’d found some dried grass for the cow. The cow’s desperate lowing reached her, followed by the bleating of the calf. They directed her thoughts sharply back to her responsibilities. She’d tethered them so the calf couldn’t suck the cow and steal the precious milk. “The cow needs milking. The calf needs feeding.”
“Sounds like a song.” He repeated the words, setting them to a rousing camp tune. “And the wind keeps blowing till my mind is numb.” He added several more verses, each more mournful than the first, yet comical, and she laughed.
“I see you missed your calling. You should be in the entertainment world.”
He grinned, a look so teasing and inviting her mouth went dry. “I don’t have a hankering for being pelted with rotten tomatoes when I jest about how hard times are.”
She lifted one shoulder in resignation and acknowledgement. “Might as well laugh as cry, I say.”
“Amen.”
She allowed one brief glance at him. Remnants of his amusement remained, and something more that she recognized as determination—an echo of her own heart. “And do what one can to make things better.”
“Exactly.”
Her brief glance had gone on longer than she should have allowed. Thankfully they reached the struggling trees at the almost dry slough, and she hurried to release the cow. When she turned to do the same for the calf, Justin already held the rope. Together they headed for home. Usually she had her hands full keeping the calf away from the cow, but with Justin helping it was a lot easier, and they reached the barn in short order.
She turned the cow into the stall. “Do you mind putting the calf in that pen over there? There’s a bit of grain for it.”
He did as she asked, then lounged against a post, watching as she milked. Usually she found the time relaxing, but not under his study. “You don’t need to stay here.”
“See no reason to leave. Unless you want me to.”
Did she? Of course she did. Even if she didn’t suspect him of something dishonest, even if he was the spotless character Mother seemed to think he was, he held no interest for her. Mother hoped he’d be a match for Louisa.
So why then did she shake her head? “Of course not. Thanks for your help.” She returned to the soothing rhythm of milking, as aware of Justin’s presence as if he shouted and yodeled rather than waited quietly.
She finished, poured some milk into a trough for the calf and headed for the house to strain the rest for the family. Sally took the pail as she stepped inside.
“I’ll take care of this. You go deliver the laundry.”
“Thanks.”
A few minutes later, Madge sat behind the wheel of their reluctant automobile and tried not to envy Justin his better car. Justin had continued to follow her and, without seeking permission, climbed in beside her. Obviously he meant to accompany her. She couldn’t find the strength to suggest otherwise. Besides—she clung to her excuse—she might discover something about him he didn’t mean for her to find.
The clean laundry, smelling of soap and hot irons, sat in neat piles behind them, covered with an old sheet to protect it from the dust.
When they arrived at her first delivery point, he got out and grabbed a basket.
“I can manage. I do all the time.”
“Yeah. I guessed that.” He led the way up the sidewalk. “You remind me of my mother.”
“Should I be insulted to be compared to an older woman or flattered it’s your mother?”
He chuckled. “I meant you are independent just like her. She could have let us know she was in trouble, but she didn’t. Even when we found out, we practically had to force her to tell us the truth. When the bank foreclosed on her house, she insisted she and Levi could find a place somewhere. It took all of us talking fast and hard to convince her to move in with Carson.”
“She sounds like a strong woman.” Even as she spoke, Madge shuddered. “I intend to see we don’t lose our house. I think Mother and I could manage, but Louisa would suffer ill health from the upset. Who knows what Sally would do? At times she seems ready to conquer any challenge, yet at other times I fear a harsh word will destroy her.” Why she was telling him all this left her as puzzled as Sally often did in her reactions to life.
They reached the door, so conversation came to a halt. Madge handed over the clean items and received a few coins. She tucked the money into her deep pocket to add to the coffee can when she got home. The payment was due next week, and she knew without counting she would never make it.
“I need something special to happen,” she muttered, then wondered if she’d lost her mind to utter the words aloud.
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind.” She eased the automobile down the street to her next delivery. Again, Justin insisted on carrying the basket to the door. Thankfully, the distance was short, making conversation impossible.
She drove three blocks and picked up another batch of laundry.
“Seems to me you’re working hard, finding ways to cope. What is it you’re worried about?”
She snorted. “We’re in a depression. No jobs. No money. Drought. Poor prices. What isn’t there to worry about?”
“I hear ya. But not all those things touch each of us personally. For instance, you have work. You have a source of food and your house.”
“For now,” she muttered, immediately wanting to smack herself for revealing more than she intended. This wasn’t his problem. She didn’t even trust him, for goodness’ sake. Why would she want to share her problems with him?
“Your house is still mortgaged?”
She grunted. Let him take it for agreement or not. Whatever he wanted. She didn’t intend to discuss this with him.
“Are you in danger of losing it?” His quiet words flushed through her, leaving a trickle of anger and determination.
“Not if I have anything to say about it.” She took the corner too fast and skidded. Let him think about that instead of talking about losing the house. She couldn’t contemplate the possibility. Her anger fled as quickly as it came. “I’m not worried. God has promised to take care of us. I simply have to believe He will.” Though it would require divine intervention within the next few days.
“There again, you sound like my mother.”
She glanced at him and gave a tight smile that did not budge the determination tightening the skin around her eyes. “She must be a good woman.”
He grinned. “I think so.” His gaze lingered. Did he think the same of her?
And what difference did it make if he did?
She tried to think of all the reasons it didn’t matter, but for a moment, for the space of a heartbeat—for the time it took to blink away from his gaze—she let herself imagine he had complimented her, and she allowed herself to enjoy the thought.
She headed out of town toward the farm. Her journey took her past the Mayerses’ place. Young Kenny stood at the end of the garden, a few feet from the edge of the road. She squinted at him. “What’s he doing?”
“Best I can guess is he’s taking the chickens for a walk.”
She sputtered in surprise. “Never heard of walking chickens.” But indeed the boy had half a dozen hens tethered by a foot and marched them up and down the end of the garden.
Madge crawled to a halt and leaned out her window. “Kenny, what are you doing?”
“Ma says the chickens have to eat the grasshoppers before they get to the plants.” He sounded as mournful as the distant train whistle. “Says I have to keep them here until dark.”
“Sounds like a chore.”
“It’s boring. Stupid chickens wouldn’t stay here, so I roped ’em. Now they got nothing to do but chase hoppers.” One chicken tore after a hopper to Kenny’s right. Two others squawked at the disturbance and flapped in the opposite direction. Kenny had his hands full keeping everything sorted out.
“Well, have fun,” Madge called as she drove away. She didn’t dare look at Justin until they were well out of Kenny’s hearing, then she saw him struggling as much as she was to contain amusement.
They started to laugh. Madge laughed until her stomach felt emptied and her heart refreshed. She gasped for air and dried her eyes. “Never seen that before.”
Justin shook his head. “Thought I’d seen every kind of critter that could be led. ’Course, the chickens weren’t exactly cooperating, were they? I think poor Kenny is going to end up trussed by his feathered herd.”
They burst into fresh gales of laugher as she turned into the yard. The laughter died as they approached the house. She slid a worried look at him. Would he think her silly? But his eyes brimmed with amusement and something as warm as fresh milk, as sweet as clover honey and as forbidden as taking candy from a baby. Yet she couldn’t deny the way his glance sought and found a place deep inside where it seemed to fit perfectly.
She tore her gaze away and delivered a firm lecture to herself. Everything about this man was wrong, wrong, wrong. For starters, she knew he was hiding something. Plus, he had been handpicked as a suitable mate for Louisa. What kind of woman would entertain thoughts for a man intended for her sister?
She bolted from the car and reached for the laundry baskets, now full of tumbled, smelly items. But Justin beat her and held them in his arms.
“Where do you want me to put them?”
She nodded toward the coal shed she used as a laundry room. “In there would be fine.” She hesitated as he disappeared into the dark interior, then slowly followed, wondering if she didn’t step into danger as she crossed the threshold. She grabbed the pull chain, and a bare bulb lit the interior. “On the bench.”
He deposited the baskets and looked about, sneezing at the smell of coal dust. “Pretty dingy in here.”
“That’s why I move everything outdoors unless it’s too dusty. Or rainy.”
“Rain would be a welcome reason.”
“Indeed.” The shed was small, and she looked everywhere but at Justin. His closeness pressed at her senses, making her skin warm, filling her lungs with tightness, causing her eyes to sting with embarrassment and pleasure at their recent amusement.
“I enjoyed our little outing.”
The softness in his voice pulled her gaze inexorably toward him. His eyes were dark, bottomless, echoing the blackness in the corners of the room. Something about his expression caught at her, held her, joined them in a common thought.
“Especially meeting Kenny and his herd.”
A grin started in one corner of her mouth and worked its way across her face. “If it keeps the grasshoppers out of the garden, he will surely be in high demand all over the county.”
Justin chuckled. “The price of chickens will skyrocket.”
“No one will be able to afford to eat a hen.”
“Might put an end to this financial crisis.”
They both laughed heartily at their foolishness, but something happened in that shared moment, something Madge would not admit. She could not, would not feel a union of souls beyond anything she had before experienced.
She jerked away. “Thanks for your help and have a good night.”
He followed her outside and paused, as if waiting for her to turn and face him. She would not.
“Good night to you, too.” He limped toward his quarters.
She headed for the house. Just before she stepped inside, she turned. He paused at his own doorway and glanced back. Her heart jerked in response. He lifted one hand in a little wave. She did the same, struggling to keep her breathing normal, and then ducked inside and quietly closed the door.
“Did you have a good time?” Louisa sat in her lounge chair. Her voice was soft but her eyes hard.
Madge knew her sister didn’t care for Justin accompanying her. Not that she had invited him. Or welcomed him. Or so she tried to convince herself. “I delivered laundry and picked up more. Not exactly a fun occupation.”
“What did you talk about?”
She couldn’t remember anything except their shared laughter and didn’t want to tell Louisa about that. “Huh? Pardon? Who talked about what?”
“You and Justin. You must have said something. After all, you went to town and back. You spent the better part of an hour together.”
“I didn’t know you would object. Where are Mother and Sally?”
Louisa sighed. “I want to have all his attention. Is that so wrong? He’s a good teacher and might turn into a good friend. They’re in the living room unraveling an old sweater of Father’s.”
Guilt clawed at Madge’s throat. “I’m sure he’ll find you very interesting. You’ll soon be the best of friends.” He wouldn’t be interested in someone like Madge. She was only an old workhorse. Louisa was a graceful swan. “Just be careful. We know very little about him.”
Louisa looked ready to argue, then sighed. “It’s not like I expect anything but a few lessons from him.”
Madge knew Louisa wanted more. And who could blame her? Louisa missed out on a lot of fun because of her health problems, but they had shared confidences all their lives. Louisa dreamed of all the things Madge did—home, love, security. “Do you want help preparing for bed?”
“I can manage.” Louisa put Mouse down, and he rushed to the bottom of the stairs where Macat waited. Louisa pushed to her feet.
Madge wrapped her arm about Louisa’s waist and held her close. Louisa had been ill so many times. Madge would do anything to protect her. “You mustn’t overtire yourself. You’ll end up sick. Then you wouldn’t be able to study with Justin.” She injected a teasing note into her voice and pretended she didn’t feel the tiniest ache in her thoughts…her lungs…her heart.