Brides of Idaho (43 page)

Dismissing such nonsense, she managed to shift her attention to something beyond Rudy’s shoulder. “Freddy says you’re taking him to his father.”

“My brother, Joe. He was supposed to meet us here. He’s already two days late.”

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but why hasn’t he been with his father?” She rushed on before he could answer. “He told me his mother is dead. It just seems…” Why did she think everyone else should have what she and her sisters had not? A father who gave them a home.

“My mother has been caring for him, but she passed on recently—”

She touched the back of his hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.” She’d only meant to offer condolences as she would to anyone, but her fingers tingled. With a great deal more calm than she felt, she pulled her hand back and clutched her coffee cup.

“Thanks. Joe is all the family Freddy has left, so I sent a letter to him in the gold fields, and he replied that he’d meet us here.”

“He’s not the only family Freddy has left.”

Rudy looked surprised.

“He has you.”

He snorted. “Not something he appreciates, I can tell you.”

“Why not?” Far as she could tell, he was a nice enough man.

Rudy studied her as if hoping to find the answer to the question in her eyes. Finally, he blinked. “You know, I really can’t say. But we’re stuck with each other until Joe remembers he’s supposed to be here to take his son.”

His use of the word
stuck
scratched along her insides. It sounded most unwelcome. No wonder the boy was certain his uncle didn’t want him around. She opened her mouth to tell him so but closed it again without speaking. It was none of her concern. They’d be moving on like everyone else in her life. Freddy would soon be with his father, and Rudy would resume his footloose, fancy-free ways.

“Tell me about yourself,” Rudy said. “How did you come to be owner and operator of the stopping house?”

Glad to be pulled from her interest in Freddy and his uncle, she smiled, her heart mellow with memories. “My pa has a habit of following the next adventure on the horizon. Myself and my sisters—there are two of them, both younger than me—tried to keep up with him. We were following him to the Kootenais when we saw the opportunity to buy this place and run it. We decided we were grown up enough we didn’t need to find our pa to have a home. We could make one here.”

“Where are your sisters now?”

“Glory married the preacher man. They have a mission and church up the hill.” She pointed to the right. “Mandy married Cora’s brother, and they’ve built a fine log house that direction.” She nodded to the left.

“So now you’re on your own here.”

“Not for long. I’m selling. An interested party is visiting this evening. In fact, I better go tend to the meal preparations. I want everything perfect for his visit.” She hurried back to the kitchen.

A little later she wiped her brow with a corner of her apron. “That’s about it,” she said to herself. Would she ever get used to the empty room? Not that her sisters had hung around all day long, but with them married and living in their own homes, the place seemed vacant. She laughed. She was being sentimental. She was hardly alone. Running a stopping house meant visitors every day. And Cora lived with her.

It wasn’t the same, but soon she would be able to pursue her own interests as well.

She pulled the letter from her apron pocket and read it again, even though she knew it by heart. From her friend Sarah, who lived in Sand Point to the south.

She folded the pages and put the letter back in her pocket. How long would it take for the man to make up his mind?

From where Rudy sat on the stump, he watched Joanna set the table. She stepped back to assess the arrangement then adjusted the plates and forks. He could see her shoulders heave with a sigh. Seemed this sale was awfully important.

Freddy finished his chores and went to pet the cat, but the cat wandered away. Freddy joined Rudy. “We leaving now?”

“Think we’ll eat supper here.” The aroma of roasting meat, cinnamon and apple, and a dozen other succulent smells convinced him his food really was as uninviting as Freddy said. Besides, he wanted to see the man who intended to buy Joanna’s business. Assess for himself if the prospective buyer was trustworthy. Though why it mattered to him, he was at a loss to say.

“Good. Can you smell the food?”

“I certainly can.” His mouth had watered for the past half hour. Freddy opened his mouth, but Rudy held up his hand. “You don’t need to say it. I know I never cooked anything that smelled half so good, though I thought the rabbit I roasted on a spit wasn’t too bad.”

Freddy made some picturesque gagging sounds.

The ferry crossed to this side again, this time with several men aboard. Rudy straightened and watched them disembark. Freddy stood straight, tension vibrating from him. Rudy ached to drop a hand to the boy’s shoulder to steady him but knew from experience it would trigger an angry response. He settled for remaining close, hoping his nearness would communicate that he cared.

The men trooped up the hill toward the stopping house, waiting for the signal to enter. Others drifted down from town. Joanna would have a full house tonight. For a moment he considered changing his mind but couldn’t bring himself to do so. And it wasn’t solely for Freddy’s sake he wanted to stay.

Which of these gathered men wanted to buy the place?

A man wearing a bowler hat stared at Freddy. Rudy shifted to block his view. The stranger jerked his hat off. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be rude. But I’m wondering if you’re Rudy Canfield?”

“I am.” He moved closer, purposely keeping himself between this man and Freddy. “Who are you, and why do you want to know?”

Joanna stepped to the door at that point and rang the cowbell suspended near the door. “The meal is ready. Come in.”

Rudy didn’t move as he waited for the man to answer the question.

But the man joined the march toward the door.

Rudy caught his shoulder. “What’s your business with me?”

The stranger studied him a moment then let his attention drop to Freddy. “It can wait until after the meal.”

Freddy considered the pair. “You ain’t gonna change your mind and make me eat rabbit again, are ya?”

Rudy laughed. “No rabbit tonight.” He fixed a hard-eyed look at the man. “We’ll talk later.”

“Indeed we shall.”

Rudy dropped the necessary coins into the tin can Joanna held out and favored her with a smile. His heart slammed against his backbone when she smiled back, as if greeting an old friend.

It was a long time since he’d felt welcome anywhere. Even his mother preferred he not spend too much time at her home. Said it stirred up old memories best forgotten. Seems everyone wanted to forget what had happened. None half as much as he did. And Ma was right. Seeing Freddy, knowing the boy should have been his, filled him with anger and regret and so many other things he didn’t know how to describe them.

Seems it was a good thing Joanna was moving on, or Rudy might be tempted to plant himself right here in Bonners Ferry and stay just for the privilege of seeing such a smile on a regular basis.

Freddy pushed toward a place on one of the benches surrounding the big table. Right on the end. They crowded in with the others. Rudy glanced around, trying to guess which of these men was the intended buyer. He saw several possibilities but couldn’t say for sure.

Joanna took the place at the end of the table just inches away from him.

Freddy fairly gloated, but Rudy couldn’t tell if it was for his own sake or Rudy’s. Nor did it matter. Yet he felt just a little pleased to be sitting at her right.

Joanna welcomed everyone then stood. “We always say grace before the meal. Would you kindly bow your heads?”

No one demurred.

Rudy least of all. There had been a time in his life when he thought he’d be sitting at the head of his own table saying the same words. Hearing them from Joanna’s mouth reminded him gently and sweetly of those dreams.

For the moment, he wouldn’t allow them to be marred by how they had been destroyed. How Joe had stolen Betty from him, gotten her with child—Freddy—married her, then left her pretty much to manage on her own.

But the pain of it failed to touch him as he listened to Joanna’s words of thanks.

M
r. Tisdale had introduced himself as he entered the dining room. Joanna did a quick assessment. A little older than she’d expected. Probably in his late thirties, early forties. Somewhat effeminate looking with banker’s hands and the pale complexion of a man who spent most of his day indoors. But he’d glanced around eagerly enough, and she prayed he liked what he saw.

Nervous tremors owned her hands as she supervised the passing of the food from hand to hand. Twice she caught Rudy watching her. She wondered if he guessed at her state of mind.

“This is excellent,” Rudy murmured. “Very impressive.”

He meant to encourage her, and her nerves calmed.

The meat and potatoes and vegetables vanished within minutes, as did the three loaves of bread she’d sliced. Then she brought out the pies. There would not be seconds for everyone tonight, thanks to Freddy, but she compensated by slicing generous pieces. She was certain the meal left nothing to be desired. Even the coffee and tea seemed especially flavorful tonight.

She announced the room would be made ready for sleeping in an hour of two. In the meantime, the men were welcome to warm themselves at a fire in the backyard. No one lingered once they were done. Many left without so much as a word of thanks. But not Rudy.

“Much appreciated,” he said. “Freddy will help with the evening chores.”

“That’s not—” She saw his warning glance and stopped her protest. “I’m grateful. Freddy, why don’t you see what Cora needs?”

He scampered away.

Rudy waited until he was out of hearing. “He needs something to do besides sit here and wonder why his pa hasn’t come.”

“Glad to help out.”

Mr. Tisdale had left with the others. He stood in the yard talking to a group of men.

Rudy saw her studying Mr. Tisdale and nodded to her. “I’m sure he was suitable impressed. You did a fine job.” He patted her shoulder.

She took undue comfort in his assurances. There was nothing more she could do but wait for the man’s decision.

She turned to join Cora in the kitchen and help with cleanup, but she paused when a man came to the door. She’d noticed him at the table. A little nervous, but nothing else about him seemed noteworthy.

“Excuse me, miss. I hope you don’t mind me stepping inside for a moment. I must talk with Mr. Canfield.”

“By all means.” She edged away, leaving the men to conduct their business in private. But she didn’t have to strain to catch what was said.

“Mr. Canfield, I have the regretful duty of informing you your brother, Joe, is dead.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry. There was an accident at the mine. He was crushed.”

“Crushed?”

“’Fraid so. We buried him at the town site.”

“What am I supposed to do with a kid? He’ll just get in the way.”

Freddy returned with Cora at his side. His face blanched bone white. The wood he carried fell to the floor.

Joanna sprang forward, calling, “Rudy, come quick.”

Rudy was at her side before she reached Freddy.

“He heard,” she explained. Thinking the boy needed comfort, she reached for him as did Rudy.

But Freddy pushed them both away. “Leave me alone. I don’t need nobody.” Joanna drew back, startled by the anger in his face. Rudy’s expression showed the same confusion.

Then Freddy turned and fled outside.

Joanna faced Rudy. “I’m sorry.” He’d lost his mother recently, and now his brother. Plus he had a hurting ten-year-old to think about.

“What am I going to do? I can’t take care of him.”

Her sympathy fled like yesterday’s sun. “A man has to own up to his responsibilities.”

“He’s not my kid.”

“He is now. And you better do what’s right for him. I’ve had it with men who think they have no obligation to the children in their care.”

He studied her with narrowed eyes. “Are we talking about me here?

Or you and your pa?”

She ignored his gibe. “Freddy is a child who needs a home. He deserves someone to care enough for him to provide one.”

“Don’t we all?”

She had no idea what he meant, but it didn’t matter. “You’re all that boy has.”

“Lady, I’m a cowboy.”

“Footloose and fancy-free. I know. Freddy told me.”

He scrubbed at his chin. The rasping sound irritated her.

“I can’t take him with me while I chase after cows.”

“No? Then you better find something else to do, hadn’t you?” How many times had she heard excuses from her father, seen the pain in her sisters’ faces, and had to push away her own disappointment and resentment in order to comfort them?

He glowered at her. “Like what?” He waved his hand around. “Run this place?”