The Cowboy's Orphan Bride Page 8

  “You’ve done a lot of doctoring, I hear.”

  “That’s why Dr. Rodgers traveled to Oskaloosa,” she said.

  He glanced her way, mainly to read her face and learn more.

  She shrugged. “That’s the reason most folks took us older kids off the trains. They needed the help.”

  Garth knew that, but had hoped differently for her. Had hoped someone had taken her in because they wanted her. Years ago, back at the orphanage, he’d asked Fredrick Fry why no one had ever adopted Bridgette. Fry had said because she’d been a sickly child, and no one wanted that. “You’ve been working for the doctor the entire time?”

  “I didn’t start seeing to patients until I was twelve, but yes, I’ve worked for Dr. Rodgers and his wife the entire time.” She was staring straight ahead, as if the vast and somewhat barren landscape held her attention. “I can’t complain, though. They’ve treated me well.” Turning, she made her point with a solid stare as she said, “Seems like you can’t either.”

  He could complain, but wouldn’t. He’d given that up along with his past, shortly after Malcolm had pointed out that doing something about tomorrow got a man a lot further than complaining about yesterday.

  The Chaney place was still a good ride ahead, but in sight. No more than dark lumps on the horizon, but he’d gone far enough. Garth pulled his horse to a stop and while it tossed its head and snorted, he glanced her way. They were no longer best friends, that was clear; they were strangers who had lived apart for more years than they’d lived together. “I have to get my cows to Dodge now. It was good seeing you.”

  Bridgette bit the tip of her tongue. She wasn’t exactly certain what she’d expected to happen this morning, but knew this wasn’t it. A part of her had imagined him asking her to join him, which of course she would refuse. She would tell him that she had a life here. But she didn’t have a life here, not the life she wanted. The one she’d dreamed of, complete with a house and rainbows. Then again, he’d been the one to put those dreams in her head in the first place, so maybe it wasn’t the life she wanted, not anymore. Following a herd of cows and sleeping on the dirt with more than a dozen cowboys wasn’t either.

  She nudged the plow horse forward. “It was good seeing you, too. At least now I don’t have to wonder if you’re dead or alive.”

  “Take care of yourself.”

  “You, too,” she said without glancing over her shoulder. He wasn’t following her; she hadn’t thought he would. Garth wasn’t a follower, he was a leader. Always had been. From the day he’d entered the orphanage, he’d expected others to follow him. Expected her to follow him. And she had. That had been one of the things that had made being separated from him so very hard. She’d had to learn to think for herself. Learn to make her own decisions.

  That hadn’t been easy at first. Garth had always been her point of reason. He’d always pointed out why her ideas wouldn’t work, told her she had to think things through. That took patience. Something she’d been short of back then. She still didn’t like waiting for anything. When she wanted something, she wanted it now, not years from now.

  Letting out the air burning her lungs, she admitted she had learned far more than she’d expected to in the past nine years. Yet the fading thud of his horse galloping away tore at her insides. Part of her wanted to turn around, but the other part of her didn’t want to see him leaving. Not again. The image of him walking away from the train had stayed with her for years.

  The words he’d said to her long ago, when he’d been called off the train, echoed inside her head. Don’t watch me leave, Bridgette. It’ll just make it harder.

  She’d watched him then, but didn’t now.

  By the time she arrived at the Chaney residence, tears no longer threatened to spill forward. The sting in her heart would take longer to heal, as would the dull emptiness. She knew that from experience.

  Her feet had barely touched the ground when Cecil appeared at her side.

  “I’ll unsaddle the horse,” he said.

  “Is something wrong with—”

  “No, no,” he said quickly. “Emma Sue and baby Charlotte are resting, so I came out here. Thought I’d get a few chores done.”

  His friendly tone made her spine shiver slightly, but when she turned in the direction he’d gestured, she was stunned. “You fixed the barn door?” He’d not only attached the one to its second hinge, he’d found and hung up the other door that had been absent since her arrival six weeks ago.

  “Yep, that calf and cow are gonna need to get out of the rain, if it rains that is. Figured they’ll need to get out of the sun on hot days, too.”

  She would swear he was blushing; then again, maybe his face was just red from lifting down the saddle, or from the work of hanging the door. “They will,” she said, with a sense of unease.

  “It was right smart of you to trade for them. Charlotte will need the milk soon.”

  Feeling as if she’d arrived at the wrong homestead, or at least encountered the wrong Cecil Chaney, she advised, “It’ll be some time before Charlotte’s drinking cow’s milk.”

  “Oh, I know, I know, but the time will come.” He hefted the saddle over one shoulder and grasped the horse’s reins with his other hand. “I got plenty of other chores to see to. Gonna dig a ditch from the creek over yonder to water the wheat. I’ll make my way into the house around lunchtime. Emma Sue and the baby should be awake by then.”

  Bridgette was too stunned to reply, so simply turned about and made her way to the house, where she was equally surprised.

  “Emma Sue, what are you doing up?” Bridgette hurried across the room to take the kettle from the woman’s hand.

  “I have it,” Emma Sue said, not relinquishing the pot. “I’m putting some eggs on to boil for the noon meal. We can have them with the rabbit and noodles you made yesterday.” Smiling she added, “Charlotte’s arrival meant there were plenty of leftovers.”

  “That it did,” Bridgette answered. “But you should be resting while she’s sleeping.”

  “I feel too good to rest,” Emma Sue said. “I can’t begin to tell you how wonderful I feel. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good.”

  Emma Sue was beaming. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked twice as healthy as she had yesterday.

  “I’m glad,” Bridgette said, “but you don’t want to overdo it.”

  “I won’t.” Emma Sue pressed four fingers to her lips as she giggled. “Cecil will see that I don’t. He hauled in water this morning and gathered eggs.”

  “When?” Bridgette asked. Cecil had all but crawled to the breakfast table and after a single bite had stumbled out the door. He’d been nowhere in sight when she’d left a short time later to ride out to Garth’s camp.

  “After you left.” Emma Sue giggled again. “And after he took a bath.”

  “A bath? Cecil?”

  “Yes. He used the rain barrel behind the house. Didn’t you notice he’d shaved?” Emma Sue sighed. “He certainly is a handsome one all shaven and sparkling clean.”

  Bridgette didn’t know what to say. At least not aloud. Would wonders never cease? That’s why he’d looked like he was blushing. His face was red from shaving. She hadn’t even noticed his whiskers were gone. Her mind began to wonder what Garth would look like all shaven and sparkling clean, but only for a moment. She had the wherewithal to stop those thoughts dead in their tracks. He’d left her again, just like he had years ago, and this time, she wasn’t going to sit around pining for him. She would make her own plan, one that would lead her to the life she’d always wanted. Despite him. Without him.

  “Well, I have laundry to do.” Last night she’d set the sheets and towels used during Charlotte’s birth to soak and had felt a tinge of guilt riding out this morning without seeing to their washing.

  “You go ahead,” Emm
a Sue said. “I’ll see to the noon meal, and of course to Charlotte when she wakes.”

  Bridgette washed the laundry, but regardless of just having given birth and Bridgette’s constant pleading to take it easy, Emma Sue saw to most everything else. Cecil took care of the chores, most of which Bridgette had been used to doing.

  By the time Dr. Rodgers arrived the following evening, Bridgette was doing little more than twiddling her thumbs. With her hands and body that is, her mind was constantly on the move, going places and thinking about things she hadn’t wanted to contemplate. It didn’t help that Emma Sue and Cecil had turned into a couple of lovebirds, cooing over their baby and each other nonstop.

  In a matter of minutes, Dr. Rodgers proclaimed Emma Sue and Charlotte fit as fiddles and told Bridgette to pack up her belongings.

  While doing so, she discovered, as unbelievable as it was, she was sad to leave the Chaney place. That wasn’t unusual for most places she’d stayed—overall the families had been good to her—but she hadn’t expected to be sad to leave here.

  “I’m sorry I never had the chance to teach you any embroidery stitches,” Emma Sue said as they hugged goodbye beside Dr. Rodgers’s buggy.

  “That’s all right,” Bridgette said. Her gaze went to Cecil, who stood in the open doorway of the house. “You taught me something far more important.”

  “Oh? What’s that?” Emma Sue asked.

  Bridgette had to swallow around the lump that formed in her throat. “That love is blind,” she whispered. If there was anyone who couldn’t see faults in the person they loved, it was Emma Sue, and that had given Bridgette plenty to think about.

  Emma Sue frowned.

  Bridgette kissed her cheek. “And that’s a good thing.”

  “You’ll come visit?” Emma Sue asked.

  Climbing into the buggy, Bridgette answered, “Every chance I get. I’ll want to see that rabbit fur hat you’re going to make for Charlotte.”

  Dr. Rodgers flayed the reins over the back of the horse. The buggy creaked as the wheels started turning, and Bridgette couldn’t help but accept her life would never be the same. Emma Sue and Cecil had changed it. So had seeing Garth, but more so, it was going to change because she was going to make it change. There’d be no more waiting around for rainbows.

  “Rose Canton’s time is nearing,” Dr. Rodgers said before they’d rolled out of the Chaney yard. “I’ll ride out there today and let them know you’ll be ready to move in by tomorrow afternoon. That should give you enough time to replenish your supplies.”

  Bridgette didn’t comment, even while wondering why the Cantons would want her assistance. Rose had several children already, and had never needed help before because her mother-in-law lived with Rose and Al, her husband.

  With very little conversation during their trek to town, Bridgette had time to formalize the idea that had appeared in her thoughts yesterday and floundered there all day today. Though most of the people she’d stayed with handled the payment like the Chaneys had—given all of it to Dr. Rodgers, where it stayed—it was her contribution to the family budget. Mrs. Rodgers had explained it like that when Bridgette had questioned it once long ago. However, a few people had slipped her some coins, stating they wanted her to have it and that they wouldn’t tell the doctor. It had never been much, but over the years, had added up to a small sum. Enough to get her to Dodge and provide for accommodations until she decided what to do next.

  If Garth could get on with his life without her, she could get on with her life without him.

  Chapter Eight

  The expanse of the night sky full of twinkling stars that went on for as far as he could see matched the emptiness that had settled deep and dark inside him as soon as he’d ridden away from Bridgette three days ago. Garth rolled far enough onto one side to pick up his hat, and when once again lying on his back, he set the hat over his face, blocking the stars, the sky, his thoughts.

  It didn’t help. Blocking his view wouldn’t make him stop thinking about Bridgette. He should be happy. Happy to know she was healthy, doing fine. Happy the drive was almost over. They’d arrive in Dodge tomorrow. The first herd of the year, just as he’d planned. Dodge would become his town, just as Wichita was Malcolm’s. That’s why he’d chosen not to take his herd there. He wanted to be known as his own man, not Malcolm’s trail boss. He’d imagined what it would feel like bringing in this first herd, and those that would follow. How buyers would eagerly await McCain cattle, knowing they’d be getting prime beef.

  His cattle were prime. Not a one ailing or limping or exhausted from the long trip. He’d taken measures, found plentiful grass and water along the way, yet none of that seemed to matter right now. None of those heightened emotions he’d imagined were swirling about inside him.

  That goaded him. The drive had gone exactly as he’d planned. The only accident had been him getting stung by that hornet. The only unexpected loss of cattle had been the two traded to Bridgette for her eggs and beans. He hadn’t even had a man quit on him, and that was a first.

  He pulled the hat off his head and slapped it on the ground.

  “Hot night,” JoJo said from his bedroll a short distance away. “You’d think this crazy wind would cool things off.”

  “All it does is stir up dirt,” Willis said, his voice farther away.

  “At least it keeps the bugs from biting,” Bat said with his child’s optimism that never failed.

  Despite all the darkness inside him, Garth had to smile. He liked that kid. Even when he’d looked rather comical after JoJo had taken a bowl and a pair of scissors to Bat’s straight black hair that had been covering his eyes. JoJo had been threatening to do it again a couple of weeks ago and Garth had told him not to. He’d decided to buy Bat a hat in the next town instead, and he had. The boy sported it daily, and proudly.

  Bat had made a good cook’s helper, and Garth had already said he’d hire the boy on again for the drive next year, but he shouldn’t have. The boy needed a better life. He needed a home, a real bed and an education. All kids needed those things. He wouldn’t have thought that at one time, but he did now.

  A pang shot across his stomach, and no longer listening to the quiet conversation that continued from bedroll to bedroll around the camp, Garth once again stared at the sky. Was this why finding Bridgette weighed so heavy inside him? Because deep inside where all his secrets were hidden, she made him remember things. Such as what kids needed. She’d always talked of having a house, a place that was her own and one she never had to worry about leaving. He’d never had those things, and didn’t need or want them. He liked what he had right now. Where nothing held him in one place. He had the freedom of seeing different places every day. Not only on the trail, but down in Texas. He enjoyed the months of roaming the range, rounding up cattle. Last winter he’d gone deep into Mexico for some of the cows he’d deliver to Dodge tomorrow. Renting a chunk of land for his cows from Malcolm had worked perfectly, and would for years to come. He didn’t need a place to call home. Not even for his cattle.

  But others did. Bridgette. Bat. Hell, even JoJo was getting too old to keep up this way of life for much longer.

  That wasn’t his fault, or his problem, so why was he contemplating it all now? Why was it keeping him awake?

  It wasn’t. The thing that was keeping him awake was Bridgette.

  She was no longer a scared little girl he felt compelled to protect—mainly because her smart mouth and impulsiveness was forever getting her in trouble. He’d been afraid leaving the train before her and had made Fredrick Fry vow on his mother’s grave he’d find a good, solid family to take her in. Had gone so far as to warn Fry he’d find him and take it out of his hide if anything happened to her.

  Garth cracked a smile at that. He’d been a kid then. A smart-mouthed orphan with a chip on his shoulder and a soft spot in his heart.
Bridgette had put that spot there, and he’d tried hard to get rid of it the past few years. Hell. A little girl was one thing, a grown woman was an entirely different thing—one he didn’t want or need. Not now. Not ever.

  His thoughts detangled themselves and he sat up, listening for what had triggered his alertness. Faint, but chaotic enough to raise the hair on his arms, he heard men shouting and cattle bawling. “Stampede!” he yelled, jumping to his feet.

  With their saddles over their shoulders, every man in the camp ran to the remuda. Throwing their gear onto whatever horse they came to, they were mounted and heading for the herd within a matter of minutes. The shouts and bawling were closer and the dust already filling the air made seeing through the darkness almost impossible. It made the horses nervous, too. They stomped and bounced, fighting against the riders forcing them to move toward the noise.

  Garth shouted for Willis to find the lead cows and turn them about, for Krebs and Thomas to head to where the front of the herd should be and for Brad and Akin to head to the back end. They’d had a few minor stampedes along the way, every drive did, but one at night was a trail boss’s worst nightmare. One slip, one turn taken too sharply, and a man could fall off his horse. Be trampled to death before anyone knew it.

  He continued shouting orders at others that included telling each man to hold his seat. Garth also shouted at himself, silently, but with solid anger. He’d let his guard down. Some thought the most precarious part of the trail was the barren miles of northern Texas or the highly talked about Indian Territory between the borders of Texas and Kansas, but he knew the greatest danger lay right before arriving. That’s where rustlers preyed, and those men were far more menacing than all else on earth.

  Rustlers would start a stampede and during the chaos make off with a few head. Then, after the drives were done for the year, they’d take them to the stockyards, claiming the cattle as stragglers they’d found. Everyone knew about it, but most trail bosses didn’t hang around to claim those cows. A dozen or so cows weren’t worth the time and hassle.