The Cowboy's City Girl. Linda Ford
two sisters to the marriage. Other than that our neighbors are no closer than town.”
“Willow? What an unusual name.”
“An unusual gal. She wasn’t at all bothered that my brother is part native. Nor was Susanne, the girl who married my oldest brother.” Levi looked at her with silent challenge. “My mother, Seena, was a full-blooded Lakota Indian. She was injured fleeing the Battle of the Little Bighorn. My pa found her, saved her life and then they fell in love and married.”
She met his eyes. The rain softened sufficiently for him to see that her eyes were golden-brown, as warm as freshly baked bread. Then she ducked her head enough to hide behind the brim of her hat.
“You say that like you expect me to get off the seat and walk the rest of the way.”
He couldn’t decide if he should laugh at her suggestion or stop the buggy and let her off. “I’ll take you back to town if you wish.”
“I knew the situation before I came this way. I have no intention of turning back.”
She knew he was a half-breed and still she came? Her response both surprised him and pleased him. “You’re sure?”
She nodded. “I intend to do the job I came to do.”
He pulled up before the house. “We’re here.”
She squinted into the curtain of rain. “Where’s here?”
She wouldn’t be able to see much of the place in this downpour. “The Sundown Ranch.” Pride filled his voice. They reached the house. He swung down and went around the horse to reach up and help her. “Come on in. It’s simple but I think you’ll find we’re very comfortable.”
“Indeed.” Not another word, leaving him to wonder if she’d find the place to her liking or not. Hadn’t he heard that her father was one of the richest men in Chicago? She’d surely think the ranch house small. But she had agreed to come here of her own free will. That must mean something.
“Come and meet my ma.” He drew her inside, but his heart slammed against his ribs as a result of what he saw. “Ma—” Maisie balanced a steaming cup of tea as she tried to make her way to the table while hobbling on one leg. “What are you doing?” He sprang forward, took the cup, set it aside then half carried her to the nearest chair. “You are supposed to be resting with your leg up. Have you started the wound bleeding again?”
“Levi, stop fussing and introduce me to this young lady who looks ready to turn tail and flee.”
He looked back at Beatrice. She looked miserable and cold. Leaving Maisie safely settled on her chair, he beckoned her forward.
But she didn’t move, glancing at the puddle forming at her feet. “I’m dripping wet.”
“It’s only water. It will dry. Come to the stove and get warm.”
He caught a look of uncertainty in her eyes. She shook from head to toe and started to wobble.
He sprang forward just in time to catch her before she fell to the floor in a faint. Snagging a chair with his foot, he dragged it close to the stove, lowered her to the seat and considered his predicament. He should be out chasing the scoundrels responsible for causing problems around the place. The pouring rain provided perfect cover for them, but the woman who had come to help Maisie was of no use. He couldn’t leave her alone—or expect her to take care of Maisie’s needs.
He was stuck inside with two incapacitated women.
What was he going to do?
Beatrice closed her eyes against the darkness clouding her mind. Her wet clothes were too tight. The cold had seeped into her brain.
The warmth from the stove and the firmness of the hard chair eased her faintness but she dare not open her eyes yet, afraid the room would spin and make it impossible to stay upright.
Levi hovered nearby. He’d saved her from disaster yet again. How long before he decided she was a bad risk and sent her back to town? How could she prove she could do the job if he had to continually rescue her?
Sucking in the deepest breath her constricting clothing allowed, she willed away the dizziness and opened her eyes. She would do what she’d come to do. “I’m fine.”
“Perhaps if you changed into dry clothes.” Mrs. Harding’s voice revealed no criticism, a fact that gave Beatrice a bit of courage.
“Yes, of course. My bags...” She could hardly expect Levi to go out in the rain that still pounded down.
“I’ll get them.”
“Oh, no. I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s still raining.”
“You didn’t ask me. Besides, I could hardly get any wetter.”
Indeed, puddles followed his every step. He was as wet as she, and surely as miserable, yet he was willing to venture back out into the inclement weather. It wasn’t like he had to. He wasn’t one of Father’s servants, who were expected to run and fetch no matter the conditions.
Before she could answer or object he was out the door. She stared after him. If she wasn’t so miserable she might wonder if he was always so accommodating or was he anxious to be done with her?
She’d faced so many strange and frightening things since she’d left home. Only one thing had sustained her—her trust in God. She’d clung to His promises on the trip west and as Aunt Opal showed her how frontier life was lived. God is my strength and power: He maketh my way perfect. A fragile calm filled her. God would provide everything she needed.
Her gaze went to Mrs. Harding.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” the woman asked.
Beatrice nodded. She should get to her feet and introduce herself but she feared having another weak spell. “I’m Beatrice Doyle. The preacher’s wife is my aunt. They’ve sent me out to help you.”
“Pleased to meet you, my dear. And you shall call me Maisie. May I call you Beatrice?”
“Of course.” Beatrice’s insides steadied at Maisie’s kindness.
“I am blessed you have come.”
Levi returned at that moment.
“Put her things in Tanner’s old room,” Maisie said. She turned to Beatrice. “Go with him and please make yourself at home. Change into something dry then come back and tell me about yourself.”
Levi waited at the doorway to the next room for her to rise and follow him. He watched her as if expecting he would have to drop her bags and catch her again.
She held herself very upright and, doing her best to ignore her very uncomfortable clothes, she followed him into a sitting room, where there was a cluster of comfortable chairs, bookshelves full of books and a round stove for cold winter days. “What a warm, inviting room,” she murmured. She could imagine the family gathered round the stove on winter evenings.
“It’s nothing special. Tends to get a little crowded when the whole family is here and as you can see, there’s no place to go but here or the kitchen.”
She couldn’t tell if he meant to complain or if he was happy about having such a large family to crowd the house. “I would think sharing the room with family would be joyous.”
He paused before a door, a smile curving his mouth. “It is.”
She could not get over the way his features softened when he smiled. Like a happy feeling from inside him rushed to get out.
And then he opened one of the four doors along the wall, carried her things inside, then stepped out and indicated she should enter. He fled across the sitting room before she could even thank