A Love to Last Forever (5 page)

Beth put small chunks of wood on the already-glowing embers. The key to successfully roasting a pig, Patience Shepard had told them, was to keep the fire consistent and not too hot. It had been a labor to tend the animal for hours on end, but Beth knew that by the time they sat down to dinner tomorrow, everyone would appreciate the effort.

Gwen was in the kitchen busy baking all sorts of goodies, while Lacy was making repairs to the chicken coop. When the winter snows finally hit and the temperatures dropped, they’d move the chickens to the back porch. But for now, they were just fine in their coop. Unfortunately, the last heavy gusts of wind had wreaked havoc with the thin wooden shingles, and Lacy had volunteered to don her trousers and tend to business.

Gazing off across the valley, Beth noted the snow-capped mountains and sighed. Sometimes she felt hemmed in by the majestic range; and other times, like now, she felt protected and secure. The mountains were like a barrier to keep out the bad things. Pa had once said they were like sentinels, watching over the valley.

“You lose something up there?”

Beth startled at the sound of Nick’s voice. “I was just admiring the mountains.” She felt embarrassed by his intent gaze. “What brings you here?”

“Millie. She sent me to see if you could send her over any pork fat.” He held up a jar as if for proof.

“Sure. I’ll get it for you right now.” Beth took the jar and went to the grease pan, where the drippings had been collecting. She took a dish towel and wrapped it around the jar before spooning in the hot juices. “I guess Millie must be a pretty good cook. You boys haven’t been over to share our table much at all.”

“She
is
a good cook,” Nick agreed. “And I have to say, it’s pretty nice having a woman in the house to cook on a regular basis.”

Beth shook her head and handed him the jar. “Sounds like you’re thinking with your stomach.”

Nick frowned. “Well, when I think with my heart, it doesn’t seem to get me anywhere.”

Beth headed back to the fire. “Maybe you just don’t know your heart as well as your stomach.”

She looked up to find Nick giving her a rather smoldering look. Was that anger? Passion? Maybe he was just thinking of the pork again.

“I know my heart very well,” he said, turning on his heel. “For all the good it does me.” He stormed off, leaving Beth to wonder what in the world had gotten into Nick Lassiter. She was certain she would never understand men, no matter how much she tried.

Lacy Gallatin had similar thoughts as she worked to secure the last few shingles on the chicken coop. She had tried hard to honor her sister’s wishes that she give up on searching for their father’s killer. After all, the man had been shot during the hoopla of drunken cowboys shooting off their guns. No one intended for George Gallatin to be shot—at least, that’s what everyone said. But he was dead, just the same, and Lacy wanted someone to be punished.

“Of course, Dave Shepard and Sheriff Cummings won’t lift a finger to do anything about it,” she muttered, pounding a nail. It wasn’t her fault that she kept hearing rumors and leads. It wasn’t her fault that Sheriff Cummings and Deputy Shepard had given up worrying about such things.

“I see you’re wearing britches again.”

Speak of the devil,
she thought and resisted the urge to suddenly drop her hammer on Dave Shepard’s head.

“You looked a whole sight better when you were gussied up for your sister’s wedding,” he added. “Why can’t you just be happy to dress like a woman?”

“I think wearing lace and ruffles would be a bit awkward on the roof of a chicken coop, don’t you?” Lacy retorted. She finished her job and scooted off the roof to the ladder. “Besides, you seem to spend an awful lot of time worrying about what I wear or don’t wear. Maybe if you put that energy into finding who shot my father, we’d both be a lot happier.”

“Maybe if I didn’t have to worry about you stirring up trouble, I’d have more time and energy for a lot of things.”

Lacy looked over her shoulder and down at the man. He positively vexed her with his insults and admonitions. “Dave Shepard, I am convinced that no matter what I wear, you would find reason to condemn me. If I were up here in a ball gown, you’d still be standing there growling about it for one reason or another.”

“You shouldn’t be on top of the roof anyway,” he countered, “so I suppose you’re right. You should leave something like that to Hank, or else get another man to help you out.”

“Why? I’m perfectly capable of doing the job.” She reached the next-to-the-last rung of the ladder and stopped. It made her a bit taller than Dave’s six-foot-three-inch frame, and she rather liked having that advantage. “You simply worry too much, Mr. Shepard. You will worry yourself right into a grave if you don’t stop concerning yourself with me, my wardrobe, and my job responsibilities. Now, why are you really here?”

He scowled. “I was making my way home and wondered if there was anything I could do to help you ladies prepare for tomorrow’s celebration, but I see you have it all under control.”

“And that really bothers you, doesn’t it?” Lacy saw him grit his teeth and knew she’d hit a nerve. Why should it irritate him so much that she was self-sufficient? If he only understood about her life—her childhood—he would know why she had to be like this. There had never been anyone to depend on. Most of the time, the girls had been alone.

“I’ll leave you to your chores and caustic remarks,” Dave said, moving away.

Lacy started to step after him, forgetting that she was two rungs above the ground. She hit the ground hard, nearly knocking the wind out of her. She looked up to find Dave staring down at her. He was fighting hard, or so it seemed, to keep an unemotional look on his face.

Rather than wait for him to offer assistance, Lacy quickly got to her feet and dusted off her backside. She wanted to cry out in pain at the sore spot on her hip, but she said nothing.

“I hope the britches cushioned your fall,” Dave said with a hint of a smile.

Lacy thought about it for a moment, then, against her will, found the whole thing rather amusing. “I suppose your choice in this situation would have actually served me better. A ball gown and multiple petticoats would have given me a much softer landing.”

He nodded. “Sometimes I can be right, you know.”

“Pa always said even a broken clock was right twice a day.” Lacy took a step and winced.

“Here, let me help you.” Dave reached out for her, but Lacy wanted no part of it. She wasn’t that desperate or that brave. She could remember how she’d felt the other times Dave had touched her. Who knew what might happen if she let him hold her now?

“I’ll be all right. I just need to walk on my own and work the muscles.”

“Have it your way.” He shrugged and walked away, not even bothering to look back.

She supposed he was mad again but pushed aside the thought to focus on making her way to the house. The pain had lessened by the time she reached the back porch, and Lacy was convinced nothing was permanently damaged.

“Coop is repaired,” she announced, entering the kitchen.

Gwen was just pulling a pie from the oven. “I wondered where you’d taken yourself off to.” She turned after putting the pie on the counter. “You weren’t out there dressed like that, were you?”

Lacy looked down at her clothes. “No, actually, I just changed. A ball gown seemed far more appropriate for straddling a roof and repairing shingles.”

Gwen looked at her oddly. “A ball gown? What are you talking about?”

“Never mind. I patched the walls and shingled the parts of the roof that needed it. The hens ought to be happy until it gets colder. Now what can I help you with in here?”

“Well, you might as well go down to the cellar and bring up the potatoes. Oh, and get me several onions, too.”

The last thing Lacy wanted to do was climb down another ladder, but she also didn’t want Gwen to worry about her injury. She did her best to cross the room without betraying her condition. Gingerly stepping down the rungs to the cellar floor, Lacy nearly let out a sob as she stooped to accommodate the short space. Frustrated, she wanted nothing more than to sit down and cry. But Lacy knew there was no point. Tears wouldn’t solve anything. They never had. Strength was the only thing people respected.

CHAPTER FOUR

Beth plopped a pail of water down on the counter and shook her head. “I can’t believe the number of . . .
customers
. . . at Rafe’s tonight. They’re kicking up a real storm, and it’s barely past suppertime.” The thought of what surely must be happening very nearly under their noses caused her to shudder. “I don’t know why God allows such things. And on the night before Thanksgiving!”

Gwen took the hot water and poured it into the sink. “It is despicable, but I hardly think it has anything to do with God and much to do with man. We are sinful in nature—some more than others, it appears.”

“And such things are perfectly legal, so the law does nothing,” Lacy added rather bitterly. “Just as it usually does nothing.”

Beth made an attempt to busy herself by drying dishes, but she couldn’t let the matter drop. Her cheeks grew hot. “Oh, I do wish I were a man sometimes.”

This startled not only Gwen, but Lacy. Her younger sister smiled. “That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said in some time.”

“Not that it does me any good to say it,” Beth replied. “Talking about a thing doesn’t resolve it or make it better. I could talk all night—sing it out at the top of my lungs—and nothing would change.”

Gwen stopped washing the dishes and looked at Beth. “Maybe you have an idea there.”

Lacy moved forward. “What do you mean?”

“Remember when we lived in that tiny town in Colorado—oh, I can’t remember the name—where the ladies from the church used to gather outside the saloons and sing hymns to annoy the bar owner and discourage the customers?”

“I do remember that,” Lacy answered excitedly. “They also posted the drinkers’ names at the church on Sunday morning, just to embarrass them further.”

“It seemed to work. I mean, it didn’t get rid of drinking altogether, but they moved the bar to the far end of town,” Gwen said.

Beth looked at her sisters, a smile beginning to spread. “I know a lot of hymns.”

Lacy laughed. “If we bring Major, he’s sure to help. Remember how he howls when we sing on Sunday morning?”

At his name, the dog’s ears perked, and he got to his feet. He seemed to understand the plan and headed toward the back door as if to encourage the group.

“I’d say the Major is all for it,” Beth replied. “What about Hank?”

Gwen shrugged. “Why would Hank care if I sang hymns? He’s gone back to the store to finish his inventory so he can close tomorrow for Thanksgiving.”

“Well, he might not like that his wife was a part of such a scheme,” Beth continued. “I wouldn’t blame you if you felt you needed to stay out of it.”

Lacy nodded. “Yes, men can be rather silly about things. I don’t even pretend to understand how they think, but this might be one of those simple things that somehow destroys the perfect order of Hank’s world.”

Gwen grinned and untied her apron. “I can reorder his world easily enough. I’m coming, and you cannot keep me from it.”

After quickly tidying the kitchen, the trio slipped out the back door and crept over to where Rafe’s girls did their entertaining.

The skies overhead were starlit, and the moon was nearly full. Added to that, Rafe had made a path with lanterns along the back of the saloon so that there would be light enough for visitors to make their way to and from their rooms of entertainment.

Two of the newer prostitutes stood cooing and sweet-talking two cowboys. Beth thought again of Lady Effingham’s seduction of Lord Wodehouse and wondered if this type of enticement truly interested men.

Gwen elbowed her in the ribs. “Did you hear me?”

“What?” Beth shook her head, rather startled.

“I asked if you thought this was close enough.”

“I can sing pretty loud if I have to,” Lacy replied before Beth could speak. “What shall we sing first?” Lacy asked, moving even closer to the rooms.