Cutty (Prairie Grooms Book 8) (13 page)

“I do.” He threw some clothes into a saddlebag along with a couple of books. “Right, I’m off then.”

“Just like that,” Cutty said in amazement. “Well … I’ll look after yer sister while yer gone. Ya’ll be back after a few days, right?”

“I said I would. And when I do come back, you’ll be ready to leave again with me, won’t you?”

“Ya can count on it.”

Newton left the room, and left Cutty in shock. His son hadn’t even bothered to close the door. Cutty listened to the fading footsteps, hands on hips. “What in blazes is out there that has him so excited?” he mumbled in his own voice. He supposed he’d find out for himself a few days hence.

* * *

As it turned out, Newton was gone more than a few days, and Cutty began to worry. He’d work on Ryder’s house during the day, come back to Clear Creek to spend time with his son, and find there was still no son to spend time with.

“I’m sure he’s just having a good time and wanting to spend a couple of extra days out there,” Seth explained. “He was quite taken with … er, everything.”

“Everythin’? Just what’s
everythin’?
” Cutty asked. “They teachin’ him how to make his own bow and arrow to hunt with? What makes a bunch of Injuns so fascinatin’?”

Seth shrugged in his seat behind the hotel’s front counter. “It’s all new to him, I guess. If you were some fancy Englishmen and you had an opportunity to study another people, would you do it?”

“Depends on the people, I suppose,” Cutty mused. He got a mental picture of Imogene walking amongst the Indians – the real Indians, in India – and had to suppress a smile.

And speaking of which … “I most certainly would,” Imogene announced as she entered the lobby.

“Imogene!” Cutty said in delight and went to her. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes!”

“And to think it’s only been three days since I saw you last,” she replied. “Welcome back to Clear Creek. How’s work going on Ryder’s new house?”

“Fine. The place’ll be done ‘fore we know it.”

“And then you move into your own house?” she asked with a wink.

He scratched the back of his head. “That’s the plan. But Ryder and I’ll still have work to do.”

She glanced around the lobby. “Seems to me you have other work as well.”

His eyes darted here and there. “Newton ain’t here. He’s been gone for days.”

“So I just heard. And you haven’t had a chance to tell him?”

Cutty walked over to Imogene in an effort to get out of Seth’s earshot, but it wasn’t far enough to change to his real voice. “If’n he don’t come back soon, I might not get the chance,” he whispered. “Once Ryder’s house is done, he plans on workin’ me to death from the sounds of it.”

“Oh dear, that will never do. I hope Newton returns soon.”

“So do I.” He glanced around again. “I spoke with Preacher Jo.”

“Oh?”

“I done told him …”

Imogene gasped. “You mean … you
told
him?” Cutty nodded, and she put a hand to her chest. “Well, this
is
news. How did he take it?” she asked, her voice just as low.

Cutty shrugged. “It’s Preacher Jo. He’s a real forgivin’ man.”

She smiled. “Dear sweet Cutty, when will you learn that there’s nothing to forgive?”

“Not for him there ain’t. For others there is, and ya know who I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”

She sighed in resignation. “True, but I’ll back you up. First, however, take care of Newton.”

“I will once I see him.
If
I ever see him again.”

Seth must have heard the last part. “Tell you what, Cutty – if he’s not back by tomorrow, what say you and I ride on out and fetch him?”

Cutty looked over his shoulder. “Ya mean it?”

Seth nodded. “I’d hate to think that something happened to him. I’d feel better if we checked. I’ll let Mr. Van Cleet know today so he can mind the desk tomorrow.”

“Much obliged, Seth. I don’t mind sayin’ I’m kinda worried ‘bout m … that boy.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, but better safe than sorry. Things can happen when a man’s out there by himself.”

A shiver went up Cutty’s spine at his words. “Don’t I know it.”

Imogene looked between the two men. “Newton can take care of himself if something happens – right, Mr. Jones?”

“He does all right for a city fella and an Englishman besides,” Seth told her. “But they don’t have rattlers in England, or packs of wolves, or outlaws wandering the prairie.”

“That’s because England doesn’t have a prairie,” Imogene huffed.

“My point exactly,” Seth said with a chuckle.

“Ain’t no laughin’ matter if somethin’ happened to him,” Cutty said and began to pace.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Imogene said and touched him on the arm to stop him. “Don’t worry yourself.”

He looked her in the eye. “I cain’t help it.” He leaned toward her and whispered, “That’s my boy out there – I wanna make sure he comes home.”

She smiled. “My dear sweet man, I’m positive he’ll come home straightaway.”

Cutty smiled back. “Imogene, ya know just what to say to make me feel better.”

She patted her hair. “I do try.”

Thirteen

One week later…

“They went where?” Grandma asked as she took her chair for the ladies’ sewing circle. “Land sakes, what are they all doing out there?”

Nettie shrugged. “First Seth and Cutty went to look for Newton. When they didn’t come back, Ryder and Amon went after them. That was three days ago.”

“Oh, you poor dear,” Fanny Fig said, patting Nettie on the knee. “You must be sick with worry.”

“Not at all, Seth came back and said everyone’s fine. Seems the men have been hunting and having a grand time. One would think they were on holiday. But I do hope they come home soon.”

“What’s the matter?” Eloise asked. “Am I not good company?”

“You’re very fine company and I do enjoy staying at the hotel, but I need to get home.”

“Seth doesn’t mind riding out to feed the stock,” Eloise said. “But you must miss Amon.”

“How right you are,” Nettie agreed.

“I know I miss Ryder,” Constance chimed in. “It’s a blessing that I’ve gotten good at riding to town by myself or I wouldn’t be here. I’m glad Banjo is a gentle horse.”

“A two-hour ride isn’t that far to come,” said Grandma. “Unless it’s an emergency …”

Constance shuddered, remembering riding like the wind to get her husband to town after he’d been bitten by that rattlesnake. “Let’s pray there are no such emergencies ever again.”

“Wishful thinking around here,” Irene stated. “This isn’t England – you’d best remember that. Things happen to good folks and bad out here. It’s the way of things.”

“In that case, I hope Newton doesn’t shoot himself in the foot,” Nettie commented. “It would be just like him to do something foolish like that.”

“I thought he was quite good with a gun,” Penelope stated.

“Nonetheless,” Nettie replied, then changed the subject. “Now what are we going to make once we’re done with this quilt?”

“Imogene’s wedding dress, of course,” said Mary Mulligan. “And it’s about time too.”

“I’m in no rush to wed,” Imogene said as she sewed. “And neither is Cutty.”

“He will be once Ryder starts working him,” Constance said. “He’s already set money aside to pay him – if they ever come back to start work, that is.”

“Don’t you find it strange that they’ve spent so much time out on the prairie?” Belle asked. “They can hunt around here as well as they can near the Indians’ camp, can’t they?”

“I’m sure they can,” said Sadie. “But I think Nettie’s brother finds the Indians more interesting than hunting. Isn’t that right, Nettie?”

“Indeed – Cutty said he was quite excited when he spoke with him last. I can’t wait to hear what my brother says about them.”

“Well if you want to hear something in the meantime, just ask Seth,” Eloise suggested.

“I have,” Nettie told her. “But he didn’t say much.”

“He didn’t?” Eloise said in surprise. “Maybe he was busy at the time.”

“He did have his nose in a ledger. Perhaps I’ll ask him again.”

“Come to think of it, he hasn’t said much to me either,” Eloise remarked. “But I haven’t really made it a point to ask him. He did tell me a few things …”

“I think I’ll wait until Amon comes home and hear what he has to say about the Indians and Newton’s fascination with them. After all, he will have seen it firsthand.”

“I think you should stop talking about it and
start
talking about making a wedding dress for Imogene,” Irene snapped. “This is a sewing circle – how about we sew, not flap our gums to high heaven?”

“We
are
sewing,” Apple said, holding up a quilt square. “See?”

Irene was not placated. “We’d get more done if everyone would stop talking.”

“What would a sewing circle be without talk?” Fanny asked. “Personally, it’s one of my favorite parts.”

“Talking is your favorite part of anything!” Irene was quick to point out.

Fanny rolled her eyes. “That’s not true. I don’t talk all day – just ask Henry.”

“My husband had better be doing plenty of talking when he gets home,” Nettie said. “Or I’ll wind up talking to myself.”

“Why is that?” Apple asked.

“Because he knows I’ll be ready to throttle him for staying out there so long!”

The women laughed. What she said rang true – the men had been gone for too long. What on earth was keeping them?

* * *

Nettie felt more and more disgruntled as time wore on. The weekly meeting of the ladies’ sewing circle ended and the women began to disperse. She gathered her things and looked at Eloise with a sigh. “I could use a spot of tea about now.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Eloise said and turned to Grandma. “Would you like to join us for some tea?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” she said happily. “Doc’s probably taking a nap about now anyway.”

“Elsie, would you like to come?” Eloise asked.

Elsie Drake looked up from her quilt squares and smiled. “Yes, some tea would be lovely. I have no idea where Bowen is, so why not?”

The women left the mercantile and headed for the hotel. They got no further than the bank when Grandma cried, “Land sakes, are those our missing men over there?”

Nettie peered at a group of men standing in front of the livery stable. “It most certainly is! Amon!” The four started for the men, who were circled around something.

When they reach them, Amon looked up. “Nettie,” he gasped, took her in his arms and buried his face in her hair. “Nettie,” he said again, as if he hadn’t seen her for years.

“Amon?” She mumbled against his chest. “What’s wrong?”

Amon pulled away, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. And kissed her, and kissed her some more. When he stopped he gazed into her eyes. “Nothing, except I was without you for far too long.” He wrapped his arms around her again and held her close.

“It hasn’t been
that
long! But I have to admit, I was starting to go mad without you.”

“Ease up, Cotter – yer embarrasin’ the single folk.” Cutty stepped away from the group. He was dirty, bruised and had a cut over his bad eye.

“Good grief, what happened to you?” Grandma asked.

“We ran into a little trouble on the trail,” he rasped. “Landslide.”

“Merciful heavens!” Elsie said. “Did a rock land on you?”

“More like half a hillside,” he muttered. Then louder he said, “Where’s Imogene? I expect she’s in town.”

“She’s still at the mercantile talking with Belle and Sadie,” Nettie sighed from inside Amon’s arms.

Newton stepped away from the other men as well. “Sorry to worry you, Nettie.”

Nettie pulled away from Amon. “Well then, don’t do it again!” Then she noticed what the men had been circled around. “Oh my! Is that who I think it is?”

Chase the blacksmith went to stand between her and the item of interest. “Careful, Mrs. Cotter. He’s unpredictable.”

“For Heaven’s sake, that’s Penelope’s rooster,” Eloise said with a grin. “Wherever did you find him?”

“I think that crazy bird found us,” Cutty remarked with a grimace. “Dang fool thing’s crankier than Mrs. Dunnigan.”

“But look at him – he’s beautiful!” Nettie said. “And he looks perfectly calm to me.”

Clyde the chicken looked right at her as if to say,
why, thank you
, but all that came out was,
Cluck.

“And friendly too,” she added. She took a step toward the bird.

Chase blocked her way. “I wouldn’t get too close to him.”

Clyde turned to him.
Cluck-cluck, cluck.

Chase stared back. “I don’t like the way he’s looking at me …”

“I’d better get Penelope,” Eloise said. The others watched her hurry down the street.

Chase shook his head in dismay. “Poor August. He was probably hoping this darn rooster would stay lost.”

“Where did you find him again?” Grandma asked.

“He found
us
, ‘bout halfway to the Indian camp,” Cutty remarked as he rubbed his right shoulder.

Nettie noticed his shirt was torn. “Oh my goodness, are you bleeding?”

“It ain’t nothin’,” Cutty grumbled.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Grandma said and reached for him.

He stepped back. “Keep your hands to yourself, woman! I said I was fine.”

“A man wearing a torn shirt with blood underneath is not fine in my book!” she shot back.

“Nor mine,” Elsie added.

“Cutty, let them look at you,” Nettie urged him. “They’re only trying to help.”

“Oh, all right, but they’d better not make a fuss over it.”

Grandma and Elsie began to examine his shoulder. “Land sakes,” said Grandma, “what happened to you? You fall off a cliff or something?”

Newton and Cutty exchanged a look. “Cliff fell on me, more like,” Cutty groused.

“Best come back to the house so we can fix you up,” Grandma ordered.

“Not ‘til I see Imogene,” he said, jerking away from her.

“Why, you stubborn old goat!” Grandma snapped. “Nettie can fetch Imogene for you. You’re coming with us!”

“No one calls me a stubborn old goat ‘cept my intended!” he shot back.

“Your intended, eh?” Grandma said with a grin. “Well, you’d best marry her while you’re still in one piece. Now come on.”

Nettie watched as he followed Grandma, grumbling all the way. She took Amon by the hand and set off to let Imogene know that the men had returned. By the time they reached the mercantile the Cooke women were just coming out. “Oh dear,” Sadie said as she took in the group passing by. “What happened to you?”

Cutty’s face twisted up into a grimace. “Landslide!”

“Looks like the whole Rockies fell on you,” Sadie remarked.

“Imogene!” Belle called over her shoulder.

Imogene emerged from the mercantile, took one look at Cutty and gasped. “What happened?” She hurried down the porch steps. “Is that blood?”

“Yeah, it’s blood,” Cutty groaned. “Now if ya womenfolk’ll stop makin’ such a fuss, maybe Grandma and Elsie can get this cleaned up for me.”

“Good idea,” Imogene said and glanced around. “Where’s Newton?”

“Down the street with the others and that dangblasted rooster of August’s.”

Penelope had just come out of the mercantile with Eloise and heard the last part. “Where is he? Where’s my Clyde?” She noted Cutty’s injuries and gasped. “Oh dear me, did Clyde do that?”

“Ya'll be happy to know he didn’t,” Cutty said, then narrowed his eyes at her. “Some others weren’t so lucky.”

Penelope’s eyes rounded to saucers. “Good heavens! No serious damage, I hope?”

“I have no idea,” he said. “But judgin’ from the amount of dust kicked up and all the screaming, he might’ve.”

“Stop teasing the woman!” Grandma ordered, “and get on over to my house.” She gave him a shove for emphasis. “Now!”

Cutty grabbed Imogene by the hand and pulled her along beside him. “Stupid rooster. That thing’s a nuisance!”

Imogene chuckled. “You’re not too much the worse for wear. What happened? Surely the rooster didn’t do this.”

“I already told ya – it was a landslide, and I got in the way.”

“You said nothing about a landslide to me!”

“Well, I said it to somebody! Never mind – it’s over and we’re all fine.”

“That’s the most important thing,” she agreed. “Now let’s get you cleaned up.”

He glanced at her as they reached Doc and Grandma’s house. “I could use a sandwich or somethin’. I'm powerful hungry.”

“I’ll take care of it while Grandma tends you,” she told him as they entered the house. They watched Grandma and Elsie head for the kitchen as Imogene kept them at the front door. “Did you tell him?” she whispered.

Cutty looked at her and sighed. “No.”

* * *

“Why on earth not?” Imogene asked later as they sat down to tea.

“Because of that stupid rooster and a bunch of rocks,” he grumbled.

She studied him a moment. “You look terrible. And you’re crankier than normal. What else happened out there?”

Cutty slumped in his chair. “I don’t wanna talk about it. If I ever have to see a bunch of Injuns again it’ll be too soon.”

“Good heavens – they didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“No they didn’t hurt me, or anyone else. But …”

“But what?”

“Nothin’.”

“What aren’t you telling me, you stubborn old coot?”

One corner of his mouth curled up into a smile. “Ya know I kinda like it when ya call me that.”

“Don’t change the subject … old coot.”

“And ya like sayin’ it, don’t ya?”

She smiled and gave in. “Fine, tell me later. Now drink your tea.”