Montana Snowfall, page 17
part #7 of McCutcheon Family Series
“What’s that?”
When he reached for it, she sprang forward and clutched it to her chest. “Nothing.”
His eyebrow arched. “Seems like something to me.”
The very least she owed him was honesty. “It’s a manuscript I’ve been working on. A novel. I hope you don’t mind, but I don’t let anyone see it. You know, it’s not very good.”
“You mean you’re writing a book?” His tone was pure disbelief.
Used to be writing a book. Since the happenstance with Mr. Greenstein, she hadn’t been able to add a single word. She’d tried. Sat looking at the paper, pen in hand, but…nothing.
Back in St. Louis, she used to write one page every day. If not that, even just a few sentences. She’d never been at a loss before, her mind an endless birthing ground of exciting possibilities and dreams. Now when she sat down to write, her head felt like a barren, dead field, unfit for even the smallest idea to grow.
“Yes, a book.”
He looked genuinely interested, not teasing like her brothers had been when they’d caught her red-handed in the attic of their home.
Roady’s eyes strayed to the notebook and then back to her face. “Well, good luck. I’ve never met an author before, and now I’ve gone and married one.”
Unwelcome heat crept into her cheeks. “I’m not an author yet.”
“You will be,” he said as he muscled her trunk up to his shoulder. “I have faith in you.”
She couldn’t deny the happy warm feelings his words created.
He stopped at the door and turned back. “Are you planning to come down and say hello? The news has spread, and the ranch hands who haven’t met you yet are anxious to remedy that.”
It was only one o’clock in the afternoon. She needed to get out there with a smile on her face. “Actually, I was just reaching for my hat when you came in. I’d like to go for a walk. Would that be all right?”
“Only if I get to escort you,” he said, and then winked. “And don’t forget a wrap. The snow may be practically gone, but the temperature is still a mite nippy.”
“Same as this morning?” She raised her brows teasingly.
The color of his face deepened, and then his chuckle made her smile. “Yep, just the same as that, I reckon.”
She positioned her hat on her head and went about tying the ribbons beneath her chin. “Then I shall be sure to wear my coat.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Fifteen minutes later, Roady felt like a pretty darn lucky man. His and Sally’s marriage might not have had a typical beginning, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t make it into something worth having. He glanced sideways and took a quick peek at his bride holding his arm as they walked along. Why, she suited him in every way possible. There wasn’t a thing he would change about her if he could. Well, there was one, and it was a pretty big one. The feelings she had for the man who’d jilted her. Those kinds of sentiments weren’t easy to throw off. She was hurting.
They toured the ranch yard, him pointing out interesting things like the corral full of horses, the red and black chickens—some with ten to twelve chicks scampering behind in a cloud of peeps and chirps—and the barn with its earthy smells. Esperanza’s herb and vegetable garden, mostly gone to seed.
Sally smiled and took note of each thing as if it were as interesting as Niagara Falls. Her enthusiasm was infectious. They were getting closer to the bunkhouse where his friends waited, their patience withering up. Out of respect, they kept their distance until he was ready to present her. When he knew they couldn’t stand the suspense a second longer, he ushered her over.
“Gentlemen, I’d like you to meet my wife, Mrs. Sally Guthrie.” It was the first time he’d put the two names together, and satisfaction warmed in his belly. He couldn’t help but smile as the color in Sally’s cheeks deepened. He patted the hand that rested in the crook of his arm.
“Ma’am,” they said in unison.
“I’m delighted to meet you, gentlemen,” she replied. “Roady has told me a lot about you.”
They mumbled and looked back and forth, probably wondering what secrets he’d divulged. He almost laughed.
“Welcome ta the Heart of the Mountains, Miss Sally. I’m Lucky, the cook. If ya need anything a’tall, you jist come to me. I can solve any problem you might have. Knock on the bunkhouse door, night or day. Don’t matter. We’re here ta help.” He glanced around at the men. “Ain’t that right, boys?”
They nodded their agreement.
Sally smiled. “Thank you, Lucky, I’ll remember that.”
“Any problems Mrs. Guthrie may have,” Roady said drily, “I reckon she’ll bring to her husband first. But thanks anyway, boys.” He pointed from left to right. “That’s Smokey, Uncle Pete, and Pedro. You know Francis, and the new hand, Shad Petty. There are a few men out with the herd, but I won’t burden you now with their handles just yet.”
Roady felt his smile fade. Shad’s gaze took Sally in from head to toe. Roady remembered the dance they’d shared at the social just last night.
She glanced up at him, excitement lighting her features. “If it’s all right, I’d love to see inside the bunkhouse. Living in St. Louis, I used to read stories about cowboys all the time.”
“Sure thing, come on in,” Lucky all but blurted, holding the door open wide. “It’s been a while since we had female company come ta call.”
The men stood back, and Roady had no choice but to usher Sally through the funnel of men. Lucky usually ran a pretty tight ship, but earlier, when Roady had returned for his belongings and told them the news, the cook had every hand who wasn’t out ranching pick up, clean up, and polish away. The place was shipshape.
Sally stopped just inside the long, rectangular-shaped building, and the men filed in behind her. She gazed around excitedly. “Oh, this is…very nice. And warm.”
The fireplace glowed on this end of the room, as well as a fire in the stove on the other end. There was always something cooking, as well as a full pot of coffee, and today was no exception. Men ate a lot, and Lucky was always prepared. The nicely made beds looked inviting. The lantern in the middle of the polished table glowed a peaceful welcome.
Roady gulped. The bunkhouse had been his home for years. He never thought he’d miss the place once he moved out, but that was a fact he was just coming to know. He led Sally to the cot that was near the fireplace and closest to the front door. “This was my bunk over here.”
The doodads he’d had hung on the wall over his head were now in his duffel bag, cleared away in case someone else wanted this bed. Earlier he’d stripped off his sheets and put them into a hamper on the back porch. Whoever the laundry chore fell to next week would be responsible for washing them, as well as the rest of the fellows’. No one liked laundry duty, but as a reward, they had extra time off on Monday, and got to choose what they’d like for that Sunday’s dessert.
Sally glanced at him and smiled, taking in the area that had been his for years. She stopped to read aloud the list of bunkhouse rules hanging over the fireplace.
“No using the Lord’s name in vain. No drinking to excess. Be polite and courteous to others. Put your dirty dishes into the wash bucket yourself. If you can’t settle a dispute, take it to Lucky. Absolutely no fighting!”
Finished, she glanced around. “Good words to live by. Who’s that young boy?” She pointed all the way to the end of the room, where Hickory stood at attention by his cot as Lucky had schooled him when it came to respecting women. He had the bed closest to Lucky’s private room, alongside the stove, sink, and pump. Francis’s bed was next to his.
His hand on the small of her back, Roady urged her forward. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
As they approached, Hickory stashed something in his pocket. His long hair was tied back with a leather strip, and his blue eyes took in Sally and then the group. “Howdy,” he said. “I guess you’re Roady’s new wife.”
Sally laughed softly. “I guess I am. Who’re you?”
“I’m the new hand,” Hickory said in all seriousness. “Just hired on ’bout five days ago. My name’s Hickory, and I’m from Waterloo.”
Sally’s face softened. As if the rest of the men faded from her attention, she stepped forward and put out her hand, taking his small one in her own. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Hickory. I passed through Waterloo on my journey here. You have a nice town.”
“It can be. This is nice too, though. I’m only in the bunkhouse now because it’s Sunday. Usually you can find me in the barn, tendin’ the horses.”
“Oh?”
He nodded. “I do whatever Francis tells me—feed ’em, water ’em, or clean the stalls after he takes the horses out to the corral. But once I learn ta ride, I’ll be goin’ out to the cattle, just like the rest of the boys.”
A reverent silence hung over the bunkhouse. It was as if each man held his breath, watching the interplay. Roady didn’t understand it, or could explain it. Whatever it was, he liked it a lot.
“What about your schooling?”
Hickory chuckled and glanced over at Roady, his lips pursed in consternation. “Girls are always so worried about readin’ and such.” He reached under his pillow and pulled out a slate, his face glowing with pride. “I’m gettin’ caught up with my letters and numbers. Once I am, I’ll ride into town with Colton and the rest and go ta school. Maybe by next year.”
Wearing an impressed expression, Sally nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. If you find any time on your hands, come find me. I have a book you just might like.” When he didn’t answer, she went on, “I like your long hair.” She turned him with a gentle hand on his small shoulder, taking in the long ponytail. “A man who knows his own mind.”
Hickory’s chest puffed out. “It’s where I get my strength.” He lifted an arm and made a muscle that didn’t quite appear.
“You know the story of Samson and Delilah?”
A blush crept up into his cheeks, but still he nodded. “I do. A friend of mine told it to me. I liked it.”
Her gaze was warm and loving. “I like it too, Hickory. I’m so happy that we’re now friends.”
The sounds of someone entering the bunkhouse broke the spell.
Roady turned to find Luke in the doorway. Their gazes locked. “I’ll be right back, Sally,” he said, wondering what he was going to tell Luke. They had few secrets between them, and Roady liked it that way. But seeing as Sally was his wife, he’d not betray her confidence.
“I’ll take over the grand tour,” Lucky said. “Come right this way, Miss Sally. I’d like to show ya where the real work happens.” He stepped the few paces over to the black metal cooking stove and opened the door.
As Roady headed out, Luke turned, and they both exited the bunkhouse in silence. They walked a good distance, where they wouldn’t be overheard. Luke stopped and then glanced back at the bunkhouse, as if trying to decide how to begin.
“Ike rode by the house and told us the news. You and Heather’s sister up and married today after church.” There was no spoken question, but it was there in his eyes, and he waited.
“That’s right.”
Luke’s brows fell. “That’s all you’re gonna say? That’s right? It’s not hard to put two and two together.”
Heat rushed into Roady’s face. “Something wrong with us getting hitched?”
“That’s not what I’m saying—and you know it.”
Luke’s irritated tone irked Roady further. “Then what are you saying, Luke? I’m just a dumb cowpoke. You have to spell it out for me.”
Luke jammed his fingers through his hair, then looked around. “With what I’m thinking, the time you spent in the hunting cabin together, I guess I just didn’t expect you to take advantage of a situation.”
Roady silently counted to five. This galled him to high heaven, especially coming from Luke. “Tell me, Luke, what’s better—doing the right thing for the wrong reason, or doing the wrong thing for the right reason?”
They stared at each other.
Roady shook his head. “Thought so. In my mind, they’re one and the same. So, it’d be best if you quit your soul-searching, do-gooding, and watching out for everyone’s best interest, and just trust me and wish me good luck.”
Some men had exited the building, and Sally stood watching from the front porch. Roady smiled at her. “I have to go.”
“You’re right, Roady,” Luke said. “Congratulations. Faith and I are very happy for you and Sally.”
“Thank you.” Roady gave him a sincere glance, hoping he knew what he’d gotten himself into. “I’m sure you are.”
Chapter Forty
“Is everything all right?” Sally asked, concerned at the seriousness of Roady’s expression as he walked back toward the bunkhouse. She’d met Luke McCutcheon briefly in town with his brothers during the week while she was shopping with Heather. She had remembered seeing them at the telegraph office in Waterloo the day she’d boarded the stage for Y Knot.
If the brothers remembered her, they didn’t make it known. They were nice, and she looked forward to meeting their wives. Roady had said he and Luke were very close friends. Now it seemed that he and Roady had come to words.
“Sure, darlin’, everything’s fine,” he said, his smile not quite as cheerful as a moment ago.
The use of the endearment surprised her. She didn’t expect Roady to say or do things he didn’t feel, regardless that the word had brought a nice tingly feeling and a smile to her lips. It felt good to be someone’s darling.
He stepped onto the porch of the bunkhouse and took one of her hands.
Shad Petty came out the door, holding a guitar. He sat on a stool while the other men gathered around and pulled up chairs of their own, or leaned on a rail. He strummed a few chords, looking plenty pleased with himself.
“What are you in the disposition for, boys?” he asked.
Roady frowned and muttered something she couldn’t hear. She wanted to help. “Can we walk out to the pasture and see some of the cattle?”
His smile returned. “Sure we can. Right this way.”
Seemed Shad’s music grew louder as they walked down the road that led to the ranch. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was trying to keep her attention.
“It’s a little bit of a walk,” Roady said, somewhat distracted. He was probably still thinking about his friend and the words they’d exchanged. She felt certain it had to do with her. “But there’re some pretty things to see along the way.”
He stopped, bent over, and lifted her hem.
She jumped back. “What?”
He chuckled good-heartedly. “Easy now, I’m just checking your footwear. There’s a short hill ahead to climb.”
She stuck her foot out for his inspection. “I can climb anything you can,” she said, the warm sunshine seeping through her coat and melting away her insecurities. “Just lead the way.”
Roady reminded her of her brother Samuel, who considered himself an outdoorsman and loved to hike. Samuel would disappear into the hills as much as the job, or the brothers, allowed. Sally liked to hike, as well.
“The bunkhouse surprised me. It’s much nicer than I pictured. Cleaner too. I expected saddles lying around everywhere, bridles, stuff like that.”
His smile was back, and for that, she was pleased. “Those are kept in the barn. But I’m glad you like it. Honestly, the good condition of everything was because of you. Lucky has had the men sweeping and cleaning for the last hour. But most times, it’s not bad at all.”
They were approaching a good-sized trail leading off the dirt road. “Here’s where we turn. The lookout isn’t much farther. You holding up?”
She laughed. Did he think she couldn’t take a walk? “I’m fine, Roady. I enjoy walking.” His tall body close to her side was comforting. He was the only one on earth who knew her secret, and there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that it was safe with him.
The trail started a gradual incline. After a few minutes of a steady uphill climb, Sally found it difficult to catch her breath.
“You need a break?”
“No, I’m still fine. Are we almost there?”
“We are. Just over that rise.”
Roady climbed up first, then reached for her hand and pulled her onto a small plateau. An endless pasture, dotted with cattle, extended as far as the eye could see.
Sally sucked in a breath. “It’s beautiful, Roady. I can’t believe I’m actually on a real live working cattle ranch. It gives me this really wonderful feeling inside. I like it.”
His sudden laughter stirred up a few hidden quail in the scrub. “You better believe it, darlin’. And you’re married to a real live cowboy. I hope that suits you.”
There it was again—that word. He’d said it so easily, she couldn’t tell how he really felt.
“I’m glad we came for this walk, so we can talk.” Being alone like this presented the perfect opportunity to discuss a few things that they hadn’t been able to before.
He looked at her and his brows rose. He motioned to a nearby log, and they both took a seat.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Lots of things, really. First of all, how did your talk with Morgan go? I haven’t had a chance to ask. He looked rather grumpy in church. And all he said to me was congratulations. I’ve been wondering all day.”
“It went about as good as a talk like that could go. A sudden wedding with someone you barely know usually only means one thing. But I assured him that wasn’t the case with us.” Roady swiped a hand across his face. “I don’t think he believed me, because he let me know exactly what he thought of me. And it wasn’t pretty.”
“I’m sorry.”
Roady had been watching the cattle, but now his head whipped around so fast she almost gasped. “Don’t you be sorry,” he said. “Ain’t nothing he won’t get over.”
“What exactly did you tell him?”
“Just that we were getting hitched, and that we wanted his blessing since you don’t have a pa no more. When he tried to fill in what I wasn’t saying, I set him straight.”
