Dorothy Garlock - [Wyoming Frontier] (16 page)

Pack stood waiting on the porch. “Come in for coffee, Sam.”

“Ya got company, Pack. I’m not wantin’ to be no bother.”

“Charlie and Miss Emily want to see you.”

Sam stepped up onto the porch. “I’m not much for visitin’, Pack.” He took off his hat and followed Pack into the kitchen.

Charlie stood and held out his hand. “Howdy, Sparks.”

“Howdy.”

“I said I was going to shake that hand. How is it?”

“Fine, thanks to Miss Rivers.”

“Hello, Mr. Sparks.” Emily’s large clear eyes were turned in Sam’s direction and there was a smile on her face, also a blush, noted by everyone except Sam. She held her hand out to him.

“Howdy, Miss Rivers.” Sam took her hand gently and would have dropped it quickly, but she refused to let it go.

“Not so fast! I’ve got to see if it’s healed.”

“It has, ma’am. It’s fine.”

Emily brought his palm up close to her face and ran her fingertips over the rough places where the blisters had broken. Dear God, she was pretty! Sam thought. Prettier and sweeter than he remembered. He could feel her warm breath on his palm, and he feasted his eyes on the top of her head where her hair was piled and pinned. When he had seen her before, it had been braided Indian fashion, hanging in two long ropes down over her breasts.

“I brought a tin of salve. It’s not as good as aloe, but not as messy either.”

“I thank ya, ma’am, but I’m not wantin’ ya to feel beholden fer what I done.” Sam gently pulled his hand from Emily’s.

“Whether you want it or not, Sparks, we are beholden,” Charlie said firmly. “We’ll be forever in your debt. Emily would feel better if you took the salve.”

“Why shore, if that’s how ya want it. And I’m obliged.”

“Sit down, Sam. Mara Shannon made cake. I’m not saying it would take any prizes, but it’s eatable.” Pack gave Mara a wicked, teasing smile.

“Then you’ll only want a tiny little slice,” she retorted.

“No, I’ll manage to choke down a
big
slice.”

“Pack Gallagher, today you’re nothing but a . . . a big
bosthoon!
”

“Bosthoon? What’s that?” Charlie asked.

“It means big, lovable darlin’.” Pack gazed unabashed at Mara’s suddenly scarlet face.

“You—you liar!”

“Ach, ach, Mara Shannon. Behave yourself. We got company.” His face was wreathed in smiles and his eyes seemed to burn with a blue light.

Pack’s teasing words and smiling face left Mara speechless and sent a tingling all the way to her toes. This camaraderie was so new to her that she didn’t know how to handle it. Shaking her head as if to clear it, she turned to serve the cake.

When the meal was over and the men went to the front porch, Mara put the dishes in the pan and covered them with water. Her intentions were to wash them after the company had gone, but Emily insisted on helping.

“It will take no time at all. Brita is napping and we can visit. I talk better when my hands are busy.”

“All right.” Mara handed her a clean dishtowel. She was fascinated as she watched the near-blind girl rinse a glass in the clear hot water and dry it with the towel. “Emily, you’re amazing. I don’t know how you manage to do what you do.”

“You don’t miss what you’ve never had, Mara Shannon. It’s as simple as that.”

“Have you ever had eyeglasses?”

“None that helped. Charlie says that someday we’ll go back east and see what can be done. But I don’t really care if we do or not. I’m used to my blindness. I’ve lived all my life in a blurred world. I’m a coward too. I’m afraid of getting my hopes up and being disappointed.”

They worked silently for a few minutes, then Mara asked, “Have you known Pack long?”

“Four or five years. When we came up the Missouri on the steamer, Charlie hired Pack to meet us and take our things out to the homestead. We think the world of Pack.” Emily placed the plate on the table and reached into the pan for another.

“I’ve only known him a short while.”

“I thought he and your father were very close.”

“They were. Papa brought him to the school once. But it was so long ago that I didn’t even know who he was when I found him lying in the road.”

“Pack knew that those men were waiting for him, but he was determined to meet you at Sheffield Station. He often leaves things at our place. This time he emptied his pockets and left his saddlebags. After his horse came back, Charlie went looking for him. He saw where you had put him in the wagon and brought him here.”

“Sam was the one who took care of him. I was at a complete loss as to what to do.”

“Mr. Sparks is nice . . . and, I think, kind of shy.”

“Shy? I hadn’t thought of him as shy. He’s terribly polite. Maybe he just seems shy to you because Pack is so . . . so bold.” Mara carried the dishwater to the back porch and threw it out into the yard. She came back in, wiped the pan with the dishrag and hung it on a nail at the end of the work counter.

“I never thought of Pack as being bold,” Emily said quietly, draping the wet cloth on the handle of the oven door and spreading it out carefully.

“Maybe not bold. I should have said bossy.”

“I’ve not noticed him being bossy. He’s one of the sweetest, kindest men I ever knew.”

There was a tremor in Emily’s voice. She was standing quietly with her hand on the back of the chair. Mara looked at her with a faint trace of confusion. She was suddenly aware that the subject of Pack Gallagher was not one she could discuss with Emily if she wanted the blind girl’s friendship.

“Brita is still asleep,” Mara said, hoping to get the conversation on a more friendly basis. “Would you like to sit in the parlor or go to the porch where we can catch the breeze?”

“Why don’t you like Pack?”

Mara was startled to hear the softly spoken words so like the ones she had said to Pack a few nights before.
Why don’t
you like me?

“I don’t dislike Pack. He sees things one way; I see them another. We constantly . . . butt heads.” Mara turned when she heard a small noise come from Brita’s room. She was grateful for the distraction and hurried to her cousin’s bedside.

“Are the boys back from town?”

“Not yet. Would you like a cool drink?”

“That I would, darlin’. Did ye have a good visit with Emily? She be such a fine . . . lass.” Brita’s voice was weak and there was a momentary catch in her breath, followed by a faint moan. Fear bloomed in Mara’s heart as it did each time she became aware that Brita’s condition was worsening.

“We’ve had a grand time. The next time she comes over we’re going to make a big batch of cookies, and she’s going to show me how to make doughnuts. We made a list of the things we’ll need.”

Emily had moved quietly into the room and stood at the end of the bed. She was smiling.

“I forgot to tell you about the kittens, Brita. Cinderella had four girls and two boys. As soon as they’re weaned, you can have your choice.”

“That’ll be grand! Mara Shannon be wantin’ a cat.”

“Cinderella. What an unusual name for a cat,” Mara said, but her mind was on the blue tinge around Brita’s mouth.

“Pack brought me the cat from Laramie, so he got to name her. A few years ago he was snowed in at our place and Charlie read us the
Tales of Mother Goose
by Charles Perrault. My favorite was ‘Beauty and the Beast,’ but Pack liked ‘Cinderella,’ and that’s what he named my tabby.”

“Then we’ll name our kitten Beauty. Is that all right with you, Brita?”

“Aye, lassie. ’Tis a fine name.”

Mara straightened the pillow and smoothed Brita’s hair with a loving hand. “I’ll get you a cool drink.”

Moisture had come to Mara’s eyes. She quickly left the room, went to the kitchen, and stood beside the almost empty waterbucket, gripping it with both hands.
Brita was going to
die!
She clenched her jaws as fear ripped into her. The memory of her mother’s death and the terrible loss she had felt afterward came back to haunt her. She just barely choked back a sob as she tugged the heavy oak bucket off the shelf. Mara turned to see that Emily had come into the room and was standing beside the back door.

“You’re worried about Brita.” The words came out on a mere breath. She reached for Mara’s hand when she approached her. The blind girl’s face was creased with worry.

“She’s so much worse than when I first came here.” Mara whispered the words close to Emily’s ear. “She’s getting weaker all the time, and now there’s a blue tinge to her skin.”

“I thought as much. Her voice is so much weaker and it’s harder for her to breathe.”

“I wish she would let us take her to town.”

“She won’t go. I think she knows that nothing can be done. She wants to be here with her boys.” Emily’s hand squeezed Mara’s. “If ever you need me, send one of the twins.”

“Thank you.”

On her way to the well, Mara saw three riders coming up the road. They rode single file. One twin was leading Aubrey’s horse, the other rode behind. Aubrey lay against the horse’s neck, his arms dangling. Mara wondered with disgust how he could stay in the saddle. A fine example he was setting for his boys.

She unhooked the rope and the weight of the well bucket carried it to the bottom where it landed with a plunk. She waited for it to fill, then pulled the rope through the pulley to bring the full bucket to the top. Pack’s large hands reached over her and the weight was taken from her hands.

“It’s too heavy for you, Mara Shannon.”

“I’ll have to get a lighter bucket.” She moved out from between Pack’s outstretched arms. “I can’t depend on someone being here every time I need water. Pack. . . .” She waited until he had drawn the well bucket to the top and poured the water into the one they would carry to the house. “Pack, I’m worried about your mother.”

“So am I,” he replied with regret.

“She’s sinking fast. Isn’t there anything we can do?’ Mara asked while he lowered the bucket and secured the rope.

“I had the doctor out from Laramie a couple of months ago. He said her heart was missing a beat every once in a while and there wasn’t anything he could do to fix it. It was just wearing out. Rest would help more than anything. Lord knows she gets enough of that.”

“Her mind doesn’t rest, Pack. She worries about you, about the twins, and about Aubrey.”

“And you, Mara Shannon.” He stopped walking and looked down at her. “I’m obliged to you for the care you give her. I’m glad you’re here. She loves you.” His voice was raspy as if his throat hurt; his dark eyes were shadowed with worry.

“I love her. She’s so much like my . . . mother.” Tears threatened and Mara blinked rapidly.

He looked at her face searchingly. “You’ve got to prepare yourself.”

“I know.” The words came out on a sob. Pack’s hand closed about hers, and she let it stay there.

“Let’s get on back to the house. Charlie’ll be wanting to leave soon.”

“Pack.” She looked up at him with a sparkle of tears on her lashes. “How did you know I was at the well?”

“I heard the pulley squeak.”

The riders were approaching. Mara wiggled her hand from Pack’s. His eyes followed hers and an expression of intense dislike came over his face. An expletive dropped from his lips.

“Son of a bitch!” he said in a voice as brittle as ice. He watched the twins and their father until they reached the bunkhouse. Then, almost rebelliously, he recaptured her hand and held it until they reached the house.

Charlie and Sam were in a deep conversation about longhorn cattle when Pack returned to the porch.

“They’re usually yeller in color,” Sam said. “They got a bony form, long legs, light hindquarters ’n a backbone that sticks up like a ridge. Tough animal. All meat ’n bone, no fat. Looks somethin’ like a deer, only bigger. Most weigh 650 to 950 pounds.”

“Do you think they’d do well in this country?”

“No doubt in my mind. They’ll live on a handful of grass ’n take care a themselves. I ain’t so sure a cougar could take one down. They’re a mean breed ’n got horns to back it up. They’ll kill ya if they get a chance. Longhorns can’t be handled on foot ’n they’re bitches to drive.”

“I heard that some ranchers up north were putting their money in Texas longhorns, and a herd of a hundred thousand was on the way.”

“Whew.” Pack whistled through his teeth. “Do you want to get into the cattle business, Charlie?”

“Do you?”

“Hell! I can’t take care of my freight business right now. I’d be in a hell of a mess without old Willy. Are you givin’ it thought, Sam?”

“I got to settle down sometime. I’m gettin’ partial to this country. Plenty a water ’n open range left. I’ve thought of drivin’ up a herd next spring.”

Charlie stood and knocked the ashes from his pipe on the heel of his boot. “Country is filling up. Before the railroad came it was a right peaceful place.”

“Squirrely still around, Charlie?” Pack asked.

“Yeah. He’s squirrely as ever, but a good old coot. He watches the place while we’re away.”

Sam, rolling a smoke, looked up at Pack. “That’s his name? Squirrely?”

“I’ve not heard another. He’s a genuine old-time mountain man.” Pack grinned. “Claims to have been here before the Indians. Hellfire! He’s so damned old he could have been here before the mountains.”

Charlie chuckled. “I’d better hitch up and make tracks for home.”

Emily, coming through the parlor, heard the exchange and went to the door leading to the porch. She could see the dim image of her brother and the taller form beside him that was either Pack or Sam Sparks.

“Mr. Sparks,” she called.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I want to give you the salve before we go.”

Charlie Rivers looked from his sister to Sam, hesitated, then walked away. Pack followed. Sam saw the look of concern on Charlie’s face before he turned away. He glanced at their retreating backs and wondered if he should excuse himself and catch up with them. He looked at Miss Rivers waiting beside the door.

What the hell? He didn’t have to have the man’s permission to spend a few minutes with his sister.

“Mr. Sparks?”

“I’m right here, Miss Rivers.” He went up the steps and stood a few feet from her.