Cindy Holby (10 page)

“N
ate’s been dead four years.” Leah swiped at the tears that clung to her lashes. Why was she getting so emotional now? “He’s a minister for God’s sake.” She laughed at her play on words.

The rattle of the kettle let her know the water was hot. She poured some into her teacup to let it steep and the rest into the sink for the dishes. She looked mournfully at the pump. It was broken, thus the need to melt the snow for water. That was the one good thing about all this snow. Shoveling it into a pail sure beat hauling water from the stream.

Nate would have fixed the pump in a heartbeat. He was handy about things like that. This house was proof of it. He’d carefully planned it, laid out the four rooms for efficiency, gave it a center hall, with doors on both sides so the air would flow through and cool it in the dry summer months and two chimneys between the sets of front and back rooms
to keep it warm in the winter. If only he’d pursued a career building houses instead of being a sheriff.

Leah scraped the scraps from her dinner into a bowl for Dodger and added some milk from the crock. A bit sloshed over as she sat it on the floor. She didn’t worry about it. Dodger would take care of it. As always there was no sense in crying over spilt milk. Nate was Nate, he wanted, no, he
needed
to do good. He thought he could accomplish it best by being a sheriff. If he had known he’d wind up dead, leaving a wife and son…

“Maybe he should have been a minister.” Leah tried to imagine Nate standing in the pulpit, wearing a black frock coat like Timothy’s, quoting scripture. She couldn’t see it, couldn’t even see his face. She usually didn’t have any trouble picturing him.

Leah took a sip of her tea. Banks should be back soon. Maybe she was just feeling melancholy because she missed her son and she was still so bone tired. That was why she couldn’t see Nate’s face when she closed her eyes. Four years wasn’t long enough to forget the way someone looked, was it?

Or it could be guilt because of the way she felt when Pastor Key touched her hair. “What’s wrong with me?” It was just that it had been so long since she’d been touched by an attractive man. Of course she’d feel a spark of attraction.
You don’t feel it when Jake touches you.

Leah looked out the window. The ice and snow had ceased earlier in the day, trailing off with a few remaining bursts as if the clouds shook themselves out like a rug before moving onward. The sun was weak in the sky and cast an odd shine on the ice-covered streets. The barest hint of her reflection showed in the glass and stared back at her with recrimination. Leah told herself she was attracted to Pastor Key because it had been so long since she’d been loved. That explained the knot in her stomach, her raw and tender
emotions and why she got emotional when Pastor Key asked her about Nate.

But if that was the case, why didn’t she feel the same thing when Jake touched her, or when he kissed her? She couldn’t remember ever feeling this unsettled and restless. “I must be losing my mind.”

A movement caught her eye. Dusty stood on the porch step of the Devil’s Table, waving his arm. Leah hurried to the door and stepped out into the frigid air.

“How’s the preacher?” Dusty yelled.

“Better. His fever broke and he’s eating.”

“Good.” He stomped on the porch boards and swung his arms about in an effort to keep warm. Leah had the benefit of some shelter from the parlor wall that jutted out even with the porch and protected her from the wind. “I’m opening in the morning.”

“I’ll be there,” Leah called back. Dusty always sounded crotchety even when he was saying something simple. He waved at someone down the street before ducking back inside the café. Leah grabbed her broom from the hallway to beat the snow from her porch back into the street.

“Momma!” Banks plowed through the snow with Jim behind him. Both were bent over against the wind that gusted down from the mountains. The confusion that plagued her earlier disappeared at the sight of her son. Banks was all she needed to think about. Banks was what she had to live for. Nothing else mattered. Now if she could just figure out what he was carrying in his hands. He struggled mightily, breaking through the drifts with great determination. Joy oozed off him. Obviously he’d had a great visit.

He was carrying a kitten. Not really carrying, she realized, as he got closer. It was more like he had it trapped beneath his coat. Its little head was stuck up under his chin and its meows rang in her ear as Banks got closer. Jim looked apologetic behind him.

“Momma, look.” Banks stomped onto the end of the porch.

“I see.”

“We found them in the barn. Nonnie said the momma cat was looking for a place to hide them before the snow.”

“And why isn’t this baby still with its momma?”

“Oh they’re plenty old enough to be on their own,” Jim said sheepishly. “And considering how many were in the litter…”

Leah took the kitten from Banks. It was gray and fluffy with bright green eyes. “Oh it”—she lifted it higher—“she, is precious.” Leah tucked the kitten up under her chin and a purr rumbled loudly against her throat. “How many were there and how come I get a girl?”

“Seven,” Jim said. He tickled the kitten’s cheek with a finger.

“And the brood decided there was one for each of them?”

“With this one left over for Banks.” Jim laughed. “Gretchen is not happy. She’s determined to find homes for at least four of them.”

“Poor momma kitty. I wonder where she came from?”

“Probably one of the mining camps. I’d never seen her before. I found her curled up in one of the empty stalls, exhausted from ferrying all her babies. I don’t mind having her around. We haven’t had a good mouser since the coyotes got Blackie.”

Banks’s eyes swelled wide and his mouth formed a perfect O. “Momma?” he gasped.

“The coyotes don’t come close anymore because the town is too busy.” Leah gave Jim a look that let him know how unhappy she was with his directness. “But that doesn’t mean that you don’t have to watch her carefully when she’s outside.” Visions of tiny kitten puddles and other presents on her floor suddenly filled her mind. “I need a box.”

“I’ll send one of the boys back with one. I guess I should
have thought of it before we came down here.” Jim grinned a little sheepishly.

“It’s the least I can do after springing the animal on your household. So how’s our preacher?”

“Take your kitty inside and fix her a bowl of milk.” Leah handed the kitten to Banks. “And stay away from the pastor’s room.”

“Yes, Momma. Will you help me name her?”

“I will.” Leah waited until the door was firmly shut behind her and she could see Banks through the kitchen window. “He’s awake and he’s eating.”

“That’s good news,” Jim said. He leaned against the wall with his hands jammed in his pockets.

“Yes, but there’s also something strange. He doesn’t remember what happened to him. The last thing he recalls is getting on his horse and striking out for town. As far as getting shot…” Leah shrugged. There was something else that bothered her about Pastor Key’s story but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She didn’t want to voice her concerns in case they were tied up in the strange feelings she’d been having since his arrival. “He didn’t have any money in his pockets. Did he have any belongings on his horse? A change of clothes. Anything?”

“Nope. Not a thing. Not even a bedroll. But he could have been robbed, or it could have fallen off in the storm. Or he could have left his trunk at the stage stop for them to bring on when the weather breaks.”

“I guess you’re right,” Leah said. Should she mention his boots? If that was all he had to wear, Jim would see them for himself soon enough.

“He was shot, sick and got lost in a blizzard,” Jim said. “He’s bound to be a bit confused. It’s not exactly the welcome he was expecting.”

Leah nodded as she chewed on her lower lip. “I’m kind of surprised Jake didn’t come around to check on him.”

“I’m not. Jake is back at his ranch.”

“He left in the middle of the blizzard?”

“There’s only so much rejection a man can take Leah.”

“So it’s my fault that he didn’t have enough sense to wait out the storm in town or at least wait until daylight to go home?” Darn that Jake for making her into the villain. She never asked him to care about her. Was she supposed to feel guilty because Jake chose to act like an idiot at times? Did he think that would change her mind, or her heart?

“Can we take this inside? I know I’m cold.” Jim rubbed his hands over his arms. “How about you?”

“Apparently I’m made out of ice and my heart is solid rock.” Leah went inside and Jim followed her. “And my love life, or lack thereof, is excellent fodder for the town to gossip about.”

“Now wait just a minute,” Jim protested. “I wouldn’t call it gossip, I’d say it’s more like people are genuinely concerned for your and Jake’s welfare.”

“I know,” Leah said in exasperation. “I’m sorry. Jake’s a wonderful man and any woman would be lucky to have him.” They moved into the parlor.

“But you don’t love him.”

“It’s not because I haven’t tried.”

Jim put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You shouldn’t have to try to love someone. You just do. You just know.”

Leah sighed in relief. “If only I didn’t feel so guilty about it, or the lack of it.”

“Jake would be the first to say he doesn’t want you because you feel guilty. He’s just stubborn, you know? He’s too used to getting his own way. For fighting for what he wants and not backing down.”

“You’re a good man Jim Martin.”

“Remind Gretchen of that will you? She just about clubbed me with the skillet before I left.”

“Too many kids and kittens underfoot?”

“The husband is always the last to know and the first to go.”

“Yeah I can see how much you’re suffering.”

“It builds character you know.”

Leah punched his arm. “I wouldn’t necessarily call it character.”

Jim put his hand over his heart. “You have wounded me to the core.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell Pastor Key to pray for you.”

“I’ll tell him myself.” Jim walked down the hall to the preacher’s room with Leah close behind him. Timothy was curled on his side with the blankets pulled up over his shoulders. His pants and long johns rested where she left them and the dinner tray occupied the opposite side of the bed. Dodger lay on the rug next to the bed with the bowl between his paws, licking the finish off the inside.

“I guess eating wore him out.” Leah tiptoed in and got the bowl from Dodger. “Sleep will do more for him than I can.” Dodger stood and gave a slight wag of his tail. “Go on,” she whispered. She could only hope that his meeting with the kitten would be a quiet occurrence.

Jim shrugged. “I guess I’ll try again tomorrow. Are you good with firewood?”

“Yes, Jake brought in a bunch before he left.” There it was again. That pang of guilt with Jake’s name on it.

“All right.” Jim went to the door. “Let me know—”

“If I need anything,” Leah finished for him. “A box for the kitten will do for starters. And tell Gretchen she has my undying gratitude for looking after Banks.”

“Yeah, about that. May I sleep in your shed if things get out of hand down my way?”

Leah pushed him through the door. “I’m certain the chickens would love it.” She heard Jim’s hearty laugh as he stepped into the street.

Leah went into the kitchen to find that Dodger had met the kitten. The tiny ball of fluff had taken shelter in a chair and had its fur puffed up, making it look twice its size. It peered through the spindles on the back of the chair and hissed mightily at Dodger, who whined and looked hopefully, between the kitten and Banks.

“She doesn’t like Dodger,” Banks informed her.

“She’ll get used to him,” Leah said. “She’s got a lot of spunk.”

“What does spunk mean?”

“It means she’s brave.” Leah ran her fingers through her son’s hair. His blond curls stood straight up and the skin under his eyes was blue. Banks leaned into her hip and yawned. “I’m guessing you and Sam stayed up late last night.”

“Uh-huh.”

“How ’bout you go ahead and wash up and get ready for bed.”

“Do I have to?” Why did children always complain about having to go to bed? Leah found she couldn’t wait to climb beneath the covers and close her eyes.

“Yes you do. Go let Dodger out and I’ll heat up some water. Feed the chickens and check for eggs too.” She’d forgotten about them with all her worry over her patient. “Did you have dinner at the Martins’?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Good, that was one less thing she’d have to do. “Make sure you’re quiet so you don’t wake up Pastor Key. When you’re done, watch for a twin to show up with the box for the kitten.”

“Is he ever gonna wake up?” Banks wasn’t in a hurry to do his chores.

“He was hurt really bad and was very sick. He needs lots of sleep to recover.” Leah yawned as Banks and Dodger finally went down the hall. She picked up the kitten from
its perch and rubbed the tiny head. “You’re the last thing I need right now, you know that?” The kitten purred and Leah sat down, closed her eyes and tucked it up under her chin.

“Momma, here’s the box.” Leah blinked.

Had she actually fallen asleep? “That’s it. We’re going to bed.” A half hour later the fires were stoked for the night, Banks was as clean as a quick washing could get him and they were both in Leah’s bed with the kitten huddled between them and Dodger banished to the rug on the floor. The sky had finally cleared and the half moon cast a gentle light through the window even though the wind whistled around the house.

“So what should we name her?” Leah asked as they watched the kitten wash its face.

“I don’t know.” Banks yawned and rubbed his eyes. “I can’t think of anything.”

“Well she’s fluffy and gray.” Leah touched her finger to the top of the kitten’s head. “She looks like a puff of smoke. Or a pile of ashes.”

“I like Ashes,” Banks said.

“Ashes it is.” Ashes squeaked out a tiny yawn and moved closer to Leah. She stuck her paws against Leah’s stomach and pressed them in and out. Banks’s even breathing let her know he was already dreaming.