Authors: Caroline Clemmons
Bert beamed at Micah's praise. The table was laid for their meal and the men took seats, except for the cook. He left and returned with a large pot and ladled thick stew into their tin plates. Slim grabbed a napkin-covered plate and passed around biscuits. Bert returned and poured coffee into tin cups, then took the remaining chair. They all watched her and she wondered what to do.
Hope bit her lower lip and looked from one man to the other. Micah raised a brow and she saw his finger tap his spoon. Smiling with relief, she picked up her spoon and dug into the thick stew. Like magic, all the men followed and talked while they ate. She didn’t know what she’d expected, living roughly as they did, but their show of manners pleased her.
She savored a bit of the stew, then bit into a fresh biscuit covered with syrup. Closing her eyes in bliss, she chewed slowly. “Oh my, this is wonderful. Never have I tasted better stew. And these biscuits are light enough to float away.”
Bert blushed and lowered his head. “Thank you, Miz Stone.”
Micah’s dimpled smile demonstrated his appreciation for her comment. Why should that please her so?
Hope learned more about their struggle for water, how they'd hauled barrels of it from some spring a good ways off on Zach's land, apparently their only remaining dependable source of water.
She remembered her father’s angry reprimand and the blow he’d delivered when she’d suggested he install windmills on their land. Her eye was swollen and purple for days, but he told the servants she’d fallen against the door. They knew, of course, and wouldn’t look at her until the bruises faded. She pushed the sad memory aside and returned to the present. Did she dare make a suggestion to Micah?
She gathered her courage. “Have you thought about a couple of the Mitchell Self-Governing Patent Windmills? I saw an ad for them and plan to install them in several spots on my land.”
Excitement gleamed in Micah’s eyes. “Hey, I saw an ad also, and I’d love to have them. Until now, I haven’t had the cash.”
He’d planned the same thing. And he didn’t appear to resent her suggestion. She wanted to shout with glee. He actually respected her opinion, and didn’t say a woman had no business thinking such thoughts. “Oh, well, maybe we can get a discount on the freight and cost if we order together.”
Zach nodded. “Good idea, Hope. I wouldn’t mind a couple of them myself, soon as we get your and Micah’s problems settled.”
They talked about where the windmills would be placed and guessed how long it would take them to arrive. All through their discussion, Hope was treated as if her ideas were equal to those of the men. Their response surprised and soothed her. Maybe this arrangement would work for everyone.
Micah laid his spoon aside while Bert served up the pie. "I need to talk about something less pleasant. Someone tried to kill us last night." For a minute everyone stopped talking and stared at Micah. The only sound was a horse’s nervous whinny.
Bert cocked his head toward the window and paused as if listening to the horse, but it quieted so he resumed serving. Everyone forked up the pie while Micah explained about the ordeal.
"Sheriff know?" Joel asked between bites.
Micah nodded. "Surprised me. Acted halfway decent about it. Said he'd keep investigating, but don't suppose anything will come of it. Without a witness, it could be anyone."
"So what's your plan, Cap’n?" Slim asked.
Micah swallowed and said, "I'm leaving you and Bert in charge here. For months now someone’s been poisoning my wife. You know her father was murdered, and now someone's tried to kill us. We have to be on guard all the time. You two are charged with taking care of this place while the rest of us take care of my wife." He dug into the last of his pie.
Slim looked indignant. "Poisoning a purty lady like Miz Stone? Low down sidewinders!"
"You’re right about that.” Micah pushed his plate aside. “Tomorrow you can start the cattle toward the river. One of us will stay at the Montoya ranch with Hope so she's always protected, but the other two will be over to help."
Always protected
. She repeated the words in her head while she nibbled at her pie. The words reassured her and she looked at each of the men at the table. She might not have her home to herself, but safety in numbers popped into her mind. She no longer faced danger alone. Things would be all right now.
Bert asked, "Reckon I ought to go cook for you? I could make sure no one messed with Miz Stone's vittles."
Zach smiled apologetically at Hope as if he'd known she should have been included in the decision. "Our two aunts will arrive soon to help our new sister, maybe today if they caught the stage."
Micah said, "You're badly needed here, Bert, to look after this place."
Bert actually smiled. "Me and Slim can do it, cain't we?"
Slim nodded and started to say something, but another horse whinnied and this one sounded alarmed. Slim frowned and sniffed the air. "You smell smoke?"
Micah sniffed at the same time. "Something burning, Bert?"
"Nope, I done put the fire out on account of how dry it is. Covered it good with dirt." He rose and ambled to the window.
"Lord A’mighty, the barn's afire!"
Chapter Twelve
Bert threw open the door and took off. Slim, Joel, and Zach followed.
Micah called, "Hope, stay inside and bolt the door in case there's someone out there after you. Don't come out unless the fire spreads toward the cabin." He slammed the door behind him.
She hurried to the window and looked outside. Fire, a rancher’s nightmare! The brothers led screaming horses from the barn. Bert whooped, driving them away from the flames and into a paddock. If the fire spread, at least the animals could run away.
Next the men dragged tack and saddles and a few tools out. There was no time to rescue more. In the dry air, flames licked up more and more of the barn. Black smoke billowed.
Buggy horses still tied to the cabin hitching post stamped and pulled at the reins, their eyes rolling in fear. She wished she knew what to do to calm them. If fire spread she’d set them free, but she wouldn't unhitch them yet.
She couldn't watch and not help. Leaving a beautiful flower garden quilt on one bunk she imagined as Micah's, she gathered other bedding not so fine and took it to the horse trough. Panic drove her and she plunged the wool blankets into the water. The men divined her intentions.
Micah threw down a singed horse blanket and took a wet one from the trough. “Thanks. Now go back inside the cabin where you’ll be safe. This may spread.”
Quickly, Zach traded blankets. “Thanks, Hope, but this work’s too hard for you. Go back in the house.”
On a run, Joel said, “Wait on the porch away from the sparks, little sister. We’ll handle it from here on out.”
Bert warned, “Best stay well back, ma’am, lest a spark land on that fine yaller dress. You ought to take care of yourself.”
Slim stopped long enough to ask, “Can I fetch you a chair, ma’am? Cap’n won’t want you tiring yourself out.”
She gathered strength from deep within, but declined all their offers and commands and pushed the horse blankets into the water, then watched the men's progress from the trough. They had given up on the barn and only sought to stop the fire’s spread to the dry grass around it. Bert worked with a shovel, but the others whipped at the flames. As fast as they beat out a finger of fire, another stretched elsewhere. She prayed they'd be careful and not let the blaze surround one of them.
Smoke and flames ballooned high and wide. The men had pulled bandanas across their mouths and noses, but how much longer could they stand the fire’s heat and smoke? Already her throat and eyes stung. Heat scorched her skin. How could the men bear to be closer?
Plumes of sparks drifted to start new fires. She sought to calm the horses hitched to the rig and thanked God the other animals had made it out of the barn.
Feeling helpless, she attempted to lift a horse blanket. The wet wool’s weight defeated her. She couldn’t carry it, much less beat at the fire with it. Glancing around, she thought surely she could do something to help.
She reached under her and pulled the back hem of her skirt up between her legs and tucked it into her front waistband the way she'd seen some of the servant girls work on washday. With her yellow silk skirts up to her knees, she stood at the edge of the blaze and stamped out sparks before they caught the grass on fire. Her shoes weren't made for hard wear, but it was all she could think to do.
Soon she saw cowboys riding in to join the fight. She recognized her own men but there were others on whom she had never laid eyes. Everyone who saw the smoke would come to help. Fire could sweep across the dry range, endangering other ranches and cattle.
Water in the trough was used up and the well emptied. Men continued with their own dry blankets. They beat the sparks and set small backfires to halt the flames' spread. A few joined Bert and used shovels in the battle.
Crashes shook the ground as the barn’s roof caved. It seemed they worked hours before only charred wood, smoke, and ash remained of the large barn, with occasional bursts of flame in the smoldering interior. Blackened grass in a huge circle smoked, but only the central area harbored flames.
At long last, everyone stopped. Micah went from man to man thanking each one personally. Her cowboys tipped their hats to her and waited together while her foreman, Chip Wooster, rode over.
The stocky man wore his customary leather vest even in this heat. He rolled down his sleeves as he approached her. “You all right, Miss Montoya?” She understood the question in his eyes. She must look terrible and here she was on the Stone ranch with no explanation.
“
Until the fire started, I was fine. Micah Stone and I were married yesterday. We stopped here before going home. Thank you for your help. I will be fine now that the fire is out.”
If he was surprised, he gave no sign, not even a twitch of his ginger colored mustache. “Then I’d best get back to work.” He turned to go.
She called him back, “Oh, Mr. Wooster? Mr. Stone’s men will be cutting the fence and moving his cattle to the river.”
“
Yes, ma’am.” He tipped his hat and rode away.
Other cowboys from who knew where simply got on their horses and rode back from wherever they'd come.
Hope collapsed onto a front step, too exhausted even to make it onto the porch or into the cabin. She peered at what remained of her ruined shoes then smoothed her dress. Black streaked the yellow silk where it hadn’t been folded, creating an odd pattern of clean and soiled fabric.
She hated to think what her face and hair resembled, but she straightened her spine as she’d been taught. At least she’d only been at the edge of the fire. She couldn't imagine how tired and disheartened these men must be. Her throat still ached from the smoke and her mouth was so dry she wasn’t sure she could speak, but she was proud of herself for the little help she’d provided.
Micah dropped beside her, his body covered in soot. He slouched in fatigue. He stared at the remains of the barn that had looked new when they arrived only hours earlier. The other four men slumped beside him. Their appearance matched his. No one said a word.
Finally Bert raised himself up. Tears pooled in his eyes and made trails down his smudged cheeks. "Cap’n, I swear I put out the cook fire. Didn't want to waste the water, so I covered it with dirt real good. Plenty of dirt, honest I did." He shook his head in disbelief as he stared at the barn. “I can’t figure how this happened.”
Micah didn't move. He looked too weary. "I know you put out the cooking fire, Bert. You're always careful. Did any of you smell kerosene when we first got to the barn?"
Joel said, “Sure smelled like it to me.”
“
Yeah, me too,” Zach agreed. “Strongest on the back corner away from us.”
Micah glanced first at her, then at each of his brothers. "Some lowdown polecat sneaked in and set that fire while we ate. What kind of protectors does that make us?"
Relief spread across Bert’s face. “You mean that fire weren’t my fault?” His temporary consolation instantly turned to anger. “Who’d do such a terrible thing a purpose?”
Slim shook his head. “Dry as everything is, the whole county could of burned up.”
Micah stared at what had been his new barn. “That’s right. More to the point, each of us might have.” He looked at his brothers. “You see what we’re up against.”
“
Your barn, your poor, lovely barn.” Hope touched his arm. “I am sorry, so very sorry. When I asked for your help, I thought all the threats would be against me. You warned me you might be attacked, yet I had no idea anything like this might happen.”
He covered her hand with his and gave a gentle squeeze. “I did. Whoever wants you out of the way has stepped up the plan. That’s why we need Zach and Joel helping at your place, why we need our aunts to cook.”
“
Don’t worry, little sister.” Joel smiled through the soot covering most of his face. “You’ll be safe now.”
She looked at what remained of the barn and then at Joel, Zach, and Micah. How could these men protect her when they couldn’t save Micah’s barn?