Cowboy to the Rescue

“Maybe he wouldn’t mind just for the crossing?” She lifted her eyebrows with the question and smiled at Nate.

He glanced between the bridge and her, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. This man liked her, she could tell. But she wouldn’t play with him, as she had some of the boys back home. Southern boys understood and even expected flirtation. Yankee boys might get the wrong idea if she behaved as she had back home, and so far their teasing had fallen short of real flirting.

“I wouldn’t have you disobey your daddy, Nate, but isn’t the most important thing getting the china safely to your mother? That would honor both of them most of all, wouldn’t it?”

He grinned in his boyish way. “Yes.” He eyed Zack. “Let’s unhitch Henry.” He nodded toward one of the lead horses. “I’ll ride up the tracks a ways and flag down the train to see if they’ll carry it over for us.”

“It’ll cost you, boss.”

Nate shrugged. “Broken china will cost me a lot more.”

* * *

The moment Nate rode away, Susanna heard her father’s faint call. Zack gave her a worried look as he helped her climb into the rear of the prairie schooner.

“I’m sure he’s all right,” she whispered as she gave the cowboy a nod of appreciation. Then she ducked inside. “Yes, Daddy?” She knelt beside him and brushed the back of her hand over his cheek. “You’re hot. How do you feel?”

“Don’t worry about me, sweet pea.” A glint in his eye contradicted the set of his jaw. “While Northam’s gone, you walk on up to that hotel and give that note to the desk clerk.”

“What? Now?” She retrieved the envelope from beneath her tattered bedding. “Daddy, please tell me what this is all about.”

“Now, daughter, you’ve never been one to question me.” He fumed briefly. “Oh, very well. I’m not partial to being laid up in some hotel in a tent city where no one knows or cares about us. I want that proprietor to turn us away. Then Northam won’t have any choice but to take us on to his place.” He coughed, then held his ribs and groaned with pain. When he recovered, he gave her an apologetic grimace. “Out here in this wild country, it’s hard for a man to be so helpless he can’t even take care of his own daughter. I trust Northam. He’ll do the right thing by us, he and his family.”

Susanna studied him for several moments. He’d slept fitfully last night, and no doubt the river crossing had been hard on him. Maybe he wasn’t in his right mind. But that didn’t give her an excuse for disobeying him. Still, he had never asked her to do anything this close to lying in all her born days. Unless she counted his changing their last name and pretending to be poor. She still hadn’t reconciled herself to those ideas.

“Will you go?” He tried to sit up. “If you won’t, I will.”

“Shh.” She gently pushed him back down. “You rest, dearest. I’ll do as you asked.” Her stomach tightening, she climbed out of the wagon and tied on her bonnet. “Zack, please tell Mr. Northam I’ll be on up the road arranging tea and sandwiches for all of us.” At least that part wouldn’t be a lie.

* * *

Nate emerged from the hotel scratching his head over the manager’s refusal to take in Mr. Anders. He thought everybody out here in the West knew that when decent folks suffered terrible losses, other good men needed to help them out. But Nate’s offer of up-front payment and his promise to return in a day or two to check on them were rebuffed. Even mentioning his father had no effect because the man was new to the area and didn’t know the Colonel’s position in their burgeoning community to the west.

Granted, the one-story wooden hotel wasn’t much to look at, but it was serviceable. New in late May when Nate and Zack had come through the tent city of Alamosa on their way to Pueblo, it already had a well-worn appearance. Like the other premade wooden structures lining the main street, the six-or seven-room establishment had been transported by train one room at a time and set up in haste. No doubt something more substantial would soon be needed to house the many travelers riding the newly laid Denver and Rio Grande railroad line, which would soon extend both south and west.

Nate glanced across the dusty, rutted street and snorted in disgust. Of course, they’d brought in a building for a saloon to keep the railroad workers happy. There would be none of that over in his as-yet-unnamed community. The Colonel always made it clear up front to everyone who came to his settlement that no liquor would ever be allowed there. Apparently, the founders of Alamosa didn’t feel the same way. Even now in midmorning, several disreputable-looking men loitered outside the swinging doors, their posture indicating they’d already had a few drinks. Nate couldn’t help but think Mr. Anders and Susanna would have been better off in Fort Garland, Buffalo Soldiers notwithstanding. But he couldn’t take them back there now.

Nor could he put off delivering the bad news about the hotel to Mr. Anders. Peering into the back of the prairie schooner, he waited until his eyes adjusted to the dimness before speaking.

“Everything all right, Nate?” the old man croaked.

“Yes, sir. No, sir. I mean—” He couldn’t manage to say the words. “Is Susanna back from getting her tea?” Foolish question. Obviously, she wasn’t in the wagon. “Maybe I’d better go check on her.”

“You do that, son.” Mr. Anders lay back with a groan.

His belly twisting, Nate turned back to the hotel just as Susanna came up the street carrying a tray laden with a teapot and sandwiches.

“I finally found some refreshments at a cute little tent café down the road.” She tilted her head prettily in that direction. “I brought enough for everybody.” She held the tray out to Zack, who was eyeing the food like a hungry bear. “Help yourself.”

“Much obliged, miss.” He tore off one leather glove and snatched up a sandwich with his grimy paw. “A mighty welcome change from all them beans.”

At the sight of his dirty hand, Nate cringed, but Susanna didn’t seem to notice. Or chose to ignore it, as any lady would.

“Did they give us a room?” Her expression revealed a hint of conflict, almost as if she hoped they hadn’t.

Once again, that feeling of protectiveness welled up inside Nate, and his concerns vanished. He knew what he had to do. “No, ma’am, but don’t you worry your pretty head about it. It’s just a few more hours to my ranch. We’ll put you up until your father recuperates.”

With some effort, he willed away his anxieties about the Colonel. Mother was hospitality itself, and she would more than make up for his father’s reaction. If worse came to worst, Nate could always take the Colonel aside and point out that Susanna was the one who insisted he take the china over the river by train. Otherwise, Nate would tell him, he wouldn’t have dared come home, because all the dishes would doubtless have been broken coming across the river’s rough bottom in the fast-flowing current. That should convince the Colonel she and her father deserved some help.

For Nate’s part, he was grateful for the Denver and Rio Grande engineer and conductor, who had been more than obliging. Once they’d learned the shipment was for the Colonel, they’d ordered their own men to give a hand. And once they’d learned it was imported china, the other men couldn’t have been more careful. Seemed every one of them understood a man wanting to do something nice for his mother. When all was said and done, Nate couldn’t have been more pleased, and it had only cost him ten dollars for the lot of them.

Nor could he say he was disappointed when the hotel manager turned Mr. Anders away. After all, Nate had wanted more time with Susanna. Now he had it. The Colonel might have ideas about him marrying Maisie Eberly, but he could never feel the attraction for his longtime friend that he already felt after only two days with Susanna.

* * *

As they resumed their journey, Susanna noticed how pleased Nate seemed. In spite of the brisk wind whipping up all kinds of dust, he’d left off his kerchief and kept smiling her way. It was plain as the nose on his handsome face that he didn’t mind his Good Samaritan role, and she kept thanking the Lord for his kindness.

She really shouldn’t be hanging out the back of the wagon, but she couldn’t help herself, even with all that dust threatening to choke her. Many weeks ago, she’d resigned herself to landscapes far different from the verdant fields and forests of Georgia. When they had viewed a large area of the San Luis Valley from the mountain pass, she had observed vast expanses of green and several broad lakes glistening in the sunlight. But the valley floor had some stretches of desertlike land, as well, and she wondered how anyone could expect to farm it successfully.

Thank the Lord that Daddy had chosen to be a prospector instead of a homesteader. He was far too old to till unbroken sod, and even his prospecting was more of a hobby than an occupation, at least in her mind. After all, they had enough money to live on. If they hit hard times, Edward would send more. Once Daddy was back on his feet, she’d let him have his fun searching for silver and gold for a little while. Let him find a silver nugget or two, and then she would persuade him to take her back home to Marietta.

Being in the company of a kind, compassionate, educated man like Nate reminded her of her yearning to find a good Southern gentleman to marry, someone with whom she could build a home and family in the hometown she loved so much, among the friends she’d known all her life. For now, however, she must set aside those longings and take care of Daddy. She whispered a prayer that the Lord would tell Mama she was keeping her promise.

At last the dust won out, and she pulled her head back inside the schooner and closed the flap. Daddy was bearing up quite well, although he still had moments of incoherence and slept fitfully when he did manage to sleep. She prayed there would be a doctor near Nate’s ranch who could help him.

By midafternoon, they had reached a small settlement of several houses, some buildings and a white clapboard church with a high steeple. Nate had said they would take time to stretch their legs and water the horses before going on, and now he hurried to help Susanna out of the wagon.

“Shall we get a bite to eat?” He waved a hand toward another white clapboard building, this one with a sign over the door that read Williams’s Café. “Those sandwiches didn’t last me very long, and it’s a few hours until supper at the ranch.”

A sudden nervous flutter in Susanna’s stomach extinguished her appetite. Supper at the ranch meant at last meeting that intimidating Union colonel. Would he still be fighting the war, as most Southerners were, if only with words? Habitual animosity filled her chest, but she wouldn’t let on to Nate.

“Maybe a piece of pie, if they have some.” She nodded her head toward the wagon. “I think it would be good for Daddy, too.” As Nate tipped his hat and started toward the building, she touched his arm.

His eyes widened with apparent surprise as he turned back. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Do you suppose there’s someplace where I could, um, well...?” She shook her brown skirt, and dust flew in every direction. “I would like to be a bit more presentable before I meet your mother.” And especially your father. Maybe he would take more kindly to them if they didn’t look so bedraggled.

“Now, don’t worry about that.” Nate grinned. “I’m sure she’ll understand that you’ve been on the road.” He glanced toward the building. “But I’ll see what I can do.”

Mrs. Williams, the café owner, could not have been more accommodating. It seemed that the Northam name held much more power in this unnamed settlement than it did in Alamosa. Miss Pam, as she asked to be called, had a permanent smile etched in the lines of her slender face. She appeared to be around fifty years old, and her warm brown eyes exuded maternal kindness as she invited Susanna into her own quarters at the back of the café.

“Charlie—he’s my husband—he’ll see what your pa needs.” Miss Pam set a pitcher of warm water on her mahogany washstand. “You go ahead and clean up. Is that your fresh dress?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Susanna held up the one dress the thieves had managed to overlook in their destruction. They’d stolen her favorite pink calico, so this green print would have to do.

“It’s a pretty one.” Miss Pam gave Susanna a critical look up and down, her gaze stopping at her hair. “Do you have a brush?”

“No, ma’am.” She tried hard not to sigh, but a little huff escaped her. Almost everything she depended upon to make herself look presentable was gone or ruined.

Miss Pam gave her a sympathetic smile. She reached into her bureau drawer and retrieved a boar-hair brush with a tortoiseshell back, holding it out to Susanna. “You take my spare one.”

“Oh, my.” Her heart warmed at this woman’s generosity. While Susanna could afford to buy her own if she found a mercantile nearby, it seemed best to accept the brush and pay Miss Pam back later. “Thank you.”

While she helped Susanna brush her hair and fasten the back buttons on her dress, Miss Pam chatted about the big anniversary party coming up in July. “Out here, we’re always looking for something to celebrate, but this one is going to be special. Colonel and Mrs. Northam have done so much for this community, bringing in a preacher and building a church, just generally taking care of everybody. The Colonel says he has a doctor arriving next month. Too bad he’s not already here for your pa, but Charlie’s pretty good at tending injuries, being a former mountain man. You know how they have to be self-sufficient living out in the mountains by themselves the way they do.”

Not giving Susanna a chance to comment, she went on to list various ways Nate’s parents had helped folks. Every word and tone suggested only respect and affection for the Northams, especially lauding the Colonel’s leadership, but that still did not diminish Susanna’s apprehensions about meeting the man.

In less than an hour, Susanna felt sufficiently refreshed, and Miss Pam’s husband had taken care of Daddy. Charlie offered his expert opinion that Daddy’s left leg was indeed broken, as were several of his ribs. He made a splint for the leg, wrapped torn sheets around Daddy’s ribs and gave him a dose of medicine to ease the pain. Nate told Susanna that while the community awaited the doctor’s arrival, Charlie was often called upon to help folks out.

After they had enjoyed some of Miss Pam’s delicious gooseberry pie with a splash of thick fresh cream over the top, they headed south. Unable to bear riding inside the schooner another minute, Susanna sat beside Zack on the driver’s bench watching the beautiful green landscape dotted with occasional farmhouses nestled among the trees.

In less than an hour, the two wagons passed under a majestic stone archway emblazoned with an intricate cattle brand and the name Four Stones Ranch. A long drive between two fenced pastures took them toward the two-story white ranch house built on a stone foundation. To one side were a giant red barn and numerous outbuildings. Susanna noticed the addition Nate had mentioned, also two-storied, on the north end of the main structure. A wide brook ran some fifty yards from the house, and young elm and cottonwood trees grew in clusters around the property.

Nostalgia swept through Susanna at the sight of the beautiful ranch. Back home, magnolias would be in bloom, and maybe a few spring gardenias would still be filling the air with their lovely perfume. Catching a whiff of roses, she searched without success for the source of the fragrance.

As if someone had blown a trumpet to announce their coming, several people poured forth from the barn, while a solitary man emerged from the house.

Nate jumped down from the wagon and gave instructions to his cowhands, who took charge of his wagon and drove it toward the barn. Then he turned toward the other man.

An older version of Nate, and just as tall as his son, the dark-haired Colonel exuded authority before he even spoke a word. Susanna could hardly breathe as she listened to Nate’s brief explanation for the presence of the prairie schooner and its inhabitants. All the while, the older man glared at her through narrowed eyes. No one had ever looked at her with such disdain, perhaps even hostility. Yet she didn’t dare reveal her own bitter feelings against this Union officer. Maybe it was just those feelings speaking to her mind, but he looked like someone who would chase women and children from their plantation house and burn it to the ground.

“So I thought they would make a fine addition to our community, Colonel.” Nate sounded a little breathless, and from the way his right hand twitched, Susanna thought he might salute his formidable father. “Being homesteaders, that is.”

The Colonel walked to the back of the schooner and threw open the flap, then returned to face Nate, eyeing his son with obvious disgust. “What’s the matter with you, boy? These are no homesteaders. Where’s their furniture? Where are their clothes? All I see is a pickax and two gold pans. Can’t you tell a money-grubbing prospector when you see one?”

Chapter Four

Nate saw the hurt in Susanna’s eyes and the way she cringed almost as if she’d been slapped. He ground his teeth as protectiveness once again roared into his chest. He had long ago learned that arguing with the Colonel was a useless exercise, but he’d never tried to beat some sense into the man. His hands ceased their nervous twitching and bunched into involuntary fists as if they wanted to do that very thing. Only by hooking his thumbs over his gun belt did Nate manage to control the impulse. How would he ever learn to control his temper when his father continued to rile him this way?

“Nathaniel!” Mother bustled out of the house and down the front steps, her fuzzy brown hair streaked with flour and her white cotton apron stained with jam. “You’re home at last.”

At the sight of her, Nate’s anger softened, replaced by the joy her presence always brought him. Spreading his arms, he welcomed her eager embrace. “Mother.” He held her tight and savored the aroma of fresh-baked bread that clung to her like perfume. Her nicely rounded form reminded him of Susanna’s need to put on a few healthy pounds. But if the Colonel had his way, the Anders family wouldn’t be enjoying any steaks at the Four Stones Ranch.

Mother leaned back and brushed a flour-covered hand over his cheek. “Angela and I have been baking all day, but I didn’t know when to have her cook your favorite— Oh! What’s this?” She broke away and moved toward the prairie schooner. “Why, Nate, you’ve brought us a guest.” She glanced at the Colonel. “Frank, help this young lady down so we can be properly introduced.”

Nate gulped back a laugh. His father never tolerated so much as a grin when Mother took charge this way.

“Of course, my dear.” His face a mask, the Colonel stepped over to the wagon and held out his hand. “Miss?” Even his offer sounded like an order.

Susanna eyed him with confusion, then gave Nate a questioning look. He returned a short nod, hoping she would accept the Colonel’s curt invitation. With a graceful elegance Nate hadn’t known she possessed, she lifted her chin like a duchess, then rose and stepped to the edge of the driver’s box to place her hand in his father’s.

“Thank you, sir.” Her posture stiff, her voice coldly polite, she permitted him to assist her to the ground beside Mother.

Nate usually waited to be addressed by his father. This time, however, he approached the little group and said, “Mother, Colonel, may I present Miss Susanna Anders? Miss Anders, Colonel and Mrs. Northam.”

Her expression filled with warmth and hospitality, Mother gripped Susanna’s hands. “Welcome, Miss Anders. Do come in the house. Supper will be ready shortly, and I’m sure you would welcome a chance to—” She started to usher Susanna toward the house, but the young lady gently resisted and turned back toward the wagon.

“Thank you, ma’am, but my daddy requires my attention.”

“Oh.” Mother didn’t bat an eyelid. “Another guest. Is he ill?” She shot a look at the Colonel. “Frank, my dear, don’t just stand there. We must help these people.”

The Colonel also didn’t bat an eyelid. “Of course, my dear.” His expression unchanged, he once again walked to the back of the wagon. “Nate, get over here and help me.”

Nate had to turn away and regain his composure before obeying. Mother and the Colonel rarely did battle, but when they did, Mother never lost.

* * *

Susanna threw dignity aside and pulled down the tailgate so she could scramble into the back of the schooner. Finding Daddy sound asleep, she lifted a prayer of thanks he hadn’t heard that awful Colonel’s rude words. Daddy wasn’t the slightest bit money-grubbing. He didn’t need to be because he already had plenty of money. And what on earth was wrong with being a prospector? Suddenly, camping beside the road they had just traveled seemed a better idea than accepting the hospitality of this Yankee family.

“Dearest.” She gently touched Daddy’s cheek. “We’re here at Nate’s house.” Only by thinking of it as Nate’s could she consider going inside.

“Hmm?” Daddy raised a bruised hand and swept it over his eyes. That medicine Mr. Williams had given him had probably muddled his thinking. He inhaled deeply, then winced. “What?”

Susanna glanced at the three Northams, who were peering into the wagon with varied expressions. She decided to ignore the pity in Nate’s eyes and the hostility in his father’s, and concentrate on the warm concern beaming from Mrs. Northam’s sweet, round face.

As if the older woman realized how the situation appeared from Susanna’s viewpoint, she gave Nate a little shove. “Go on inside, son. Tell Angela to get your bed ready. We’ll put Mr. Anders in your room. Then come back and help your father.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He disappeared, and the thumps of his hurried footsteps resounded through the canvas walls of the wagon.

Daddy caught sight of their hosts and tried to rise. “Help me up, daughter. I should greet our company.”

A faint growl sounded in the Colonel’s throat, and Susanna gulped back sharp words, while Mrs. Northam shushed her husband. As she helped Daddy to a sitting position, Susanna gave a little laugh that sounded a bit too high and a bit too nervous in her own ears. “Actually, dearest, we are the company.”

As if he finally grasped the situation, Daddy’s eyes cleared. “Ah, yes, of course.” He nodded toward the Yankee couple.

Susanna briefly considered presenting Daddy to them, as would be proper, since they were the hosts, but something inside her refused to comply. After all, the prairie schooner was her and Daddy’s home. “Daddy, may I present Mrs. Northam and Colonel Northam?”

If he noticed her breach of etiquette, he didn’t indicate it. “How do, ma’am, sir?” He leaned into Susanna’s shoulder. “Edward Anders.”

“We’re pleased to meet you, Mr. Anders,” Mrs. Northam said. “You just rest a minute, and Nate will be back to help you inside.” She looked up at her husband and raised one eyebrow.

The Colonel cleared his throat and pursed his lips. His wife elbowed him in the ribs. “So you met up with horse thieves, did you, Anders?”

Daddy coughed out a wry laugh and grimaced. “Indeed we did. Took most of our belongings and supplies and did their best not to leave a witness.” He patted Susanna’s hand. “The good Lord protected my daughter, as she was off fetching water when they came.”

“Oh, my.” Mrs. Northam’s eyes reddened. “Praise the Lord.”

“That I do, ma’am. That I do.”

Slightly out of breath, Nate appeared once again beside his parents. “Angela was waiting by the door. She’ll have my room ready by the time we get there.”

“I don’t want to put you out, Nate,” Daddy said.

“Not at all, sir. I—” Mrs. Northam began.

“They won’t be here long,” the Colonel said. “I’m sure Anders is anxious to get on his way to the silver fields.” He waved Nate toward the wagon. “Get on in there and help him out.”

Instead of the instant obedience Susanna expected to see, Nate fisted his hands at his waist. “He’ll need to recuperate for quite a while before he goes anyplace. And they’ll need another team of horses.” His father started to respond, but Nate hurried on. “We need Mr. Anders to give us a good description of those horse thieves so we can put the word out to everybody. They’re a threat to the whole valley. If they get away with what they did, all sorts of criminals will think—”