Western Kisses – Old West Christmas Romances (Boxed Set) (2 page)

“She’s the best cook around for miles, sir,” enthused Leona. “Willow’s shy about meeting the customers, but everyone appreciates praise now and again,” she glanced at me, “don’t they?”

“Yes.”

“The biscuits were feather-light, and the coddled eggs delicious. It’s the best meal I’ve had in ages.”

“I keep telling her, if she continues to cook this well, some lucky miner’s gonna sweep her off her feet and marry her.”

Although my sister meant well, her overly exuberant compliments made me want to run. The urge to flee was nearly overwhelming. I pressed my knees together to keep from moving.

He pointed to the empty chair across from him. “Come sit, and keep me company, Willow. I’ll be going soon, and it would be nice to talk to a friendly face.”

Was he blind? Perhaps he was nearsighted. I was torn on whether I would stay or go. “I-I’ve plenty of work in the kitchen, sir. Thank you for the offer. I do hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Nonsense,” said Leona. “I’ll help Ellen. “You give your feet a rest. I’ll bring out a plate for you. You haven’t had a bite yet this morning, have you?”

How would I be able to eat with people staring at me? One quick glance around the room affirmed this fact. “I’m fine. You don’t have to do that.” But she had already left, determined to abandon me in this manner, while several men whispered, nodding their heads in my direction. I’d gotten this reaction since I was ten-years-old, and I should have grown accustomed to it—but there were some things you never got used to. “I suppose I could sit for a bit.” It seemed I had little choice in the matter.

“How long have you been a cook?”

“Since I was a child.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Yes, very much.”

“Will you be makin’ dinner?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What’s for dessert?” He grinned.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

Leona brought out a plate of food, placing it before me. “Here you are, and here’s your coffee.”

“Thank you.” Seeing her look of joy at my compliance lessoned the displeasure I felt at being put in this uncomfortable position. I noted my parents glancing my way, as they continued to speak with the mayor.

“Is there anything else I can bring you?”

“I think we’re fine,” he said.

“Good.” She turned happily on her heel, striding away.

He held out a hand. “I’m Guss Hindman, by the way.”

“Willow Brady.” His handshake was rather firm, his fingers feeling rough.

His eyes widened. “Oh, then you’re the owner’s daughter.”

“One of them.”

“The friendly blonde must be your sister.”

“She is.”

It didn’t surprise me that he couldn’t see the resemblance. After the smallpox blisters had dried up, I was left with small brown patches that covered my entire body. It was worse from the neck down, but there were unsightly circles on my face as well. I had turned slightly towards the window, in a bid to hide myself from the other customers. My parents were still occupied a few tables away, while one of the other men had left.

“You’ve lived here your whole life?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m passing through. I came from Ohio. I was a mill operator, but the panic of 57 ruined me. I raised some crops too. This land looks mighty fertile.” He was thoughtful. “I had planned on prospecting in California, but they say there’s gold here.”

I ate, while staring at nothing in particular. He had mentioned a wife, but he didn’t wear a wedding ring. This was quite common, as jewelry was either lost or damaged by hard work.

“I bet it’s cold here in the winter.”

“We get a lotta snow.”

“Several feet worth?”

I nodded.

“It’s not surprising, being this high at altitude. Maybe I should stay and homestead a tract of land.” He scratched his face; his fingernails needed cleaning. “Been on the road for so long. It took nearly three months to get here. I was in one of those wagon trains.”

“We see them come through sometimes. Most continue north before crossing into the mountains.”

“I bet.” He leaned back in the chair, staring out the window. “There are possibilities here. Better than in Ohio. A herd of cattle and a field of wheat would provide income. I wonder how much I could earn prospecting?”

I’d finished most of the meal, taking a sip of coffee. It was clear that he wanted to talk to someone, although I was not the best choice in a conversation partner. I couldn’t help wondering where his wife was.

“I’ve about wasted half the day now.” He grinned. “That gravy brought back so many memories. You make it just like Sue made it. Exactly.”

“What does your wife think of our little town?”

He blinked. “She would’ve liked it.”

“Is she waiting for you in Ohio?”

“You could say that.”

“Plenty of folks have loved ones back east, sir. You’ll see her again soon enough.” The change in his demeanor was perplexing. He wasn’t smiling anymore. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied my mother staring at me. “Do you have children?” He looked older, near my father’s age, if I had to guess, but then again, he had probably worked outdoors most of his life and the elements had taken a toll.

“Never had kids.”

My sister approached. “I’ll take your plate, Willow.”

“Thank you.”

“We’re doing just fine in the kitchen. Don't you worry about a thing.” She glanced at Guss. “Can I get you more coffee, sir?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Certainly.”

After she had gone, he asked, “Are you the older one?”

“Yes.”

“Not as talkative either, eh?”

“No, sir.”

“Why the shyness?”

“Guess…I’m just not so sociable.”

“Well, that’s all right. Some men like to be listened to. A friend of mine’s wife used to holler at him from sunup to sundown.” He grinned, his humor returning. “Boy, you could hear her across the cornfield sometimes, especially when she was riled up. She’s probably still yellin’ at him now.” His gaze skimmed over my face, his expression unreadable. “I bet once you’re married, you might holler a time or two yourself.”

Leona returned, handing a steaming mug to Guss. “There you are, sir.”

“Thank you.”

“Is there anything else I can get you?”

“No. We’re good.”

After she left, I said, “Well, I ought to get back to work.”

“What is your age, if I may ask?”

“Eighteen.”

“You look younger.”

How could he tell with the marks on my face? “I’m not that young.”

“I sure look forward to dinner. Breakfast was delicious.” He patted his belly, grinning.

“I’m glad you liked it.”

He placed the napkin on the table. “It’s time to see about a job. If I can find somethin’ here, I might stay a while. Who can say. Life has a funny way of leading you in the right direction sometimes.”

“There are plenty of jobs prospecting, sir.”

“I imagine so. It’s not as sustainable though. The free gold will run out eventually, and then it’ll be harder to get. I’ve seen the inside of a mine. It’s hard work. Toilin’ all day in the damp, cold darkness. They use mules in there, you know. Those mules go blind after a while.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Lost some friends in those places. Bad timbering let the chamber collapse, killing ten men.” He seemed to turn within himself for a moment; his eyes were unfocused.

Before he was able to speak again, my mother approached. “Willow, my dear. I see you’ve had a breakfast companion.” She smiled at Guss. “My daughter rarely comes out of the kitchen, sir. It’s good to see her in the dining room.”

“She’s been pleasant company, Mrs. Brady.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She held out her hand.

“Guss Hindman.”

“Are you just passing through to other parts or will you prospect here?”

“Not too sure, ma’am. I’m exploring my options.”

“Our mayor, Arthur Walden, might have some suggestions for you, if you wish to speak to him. I can introduce you.”

“Thank you kindly, but I’ll just take a gander around, and then think on things.”

“Are you here with your family?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Oh, I see. It’s a hardship to travel west alone. So many men leave loved ones behind. We’ve seen a lot of that, haven’t we, Willow?”

“Yes, Ma.”

“Perhaps your family will join you once you’re settled.”

“Coffins don’t travel so well, Mrs. Brady.”

“I…what?” She hadn’t been expecting that.

“My wife’s passed on.” His affable countenance had vanished.

He was about to stand, but instinct took over, and I reached for his hand, squeezing it. “I’m sorry, sir.”

I’d surprised him, as he jerked his head in my direction. “It’s quite all right, Willow. Not all of us are blessed with longevity. She was my faithful companion for twenty years. I’ve no right to complain.”

It was the oddest thing. After breakfast, I found myself humming a tune softly, the music drifting through my mind. Most of the dinner preparations were made in advance, with special consideration given to the number of people occupying rooms. The meal would be served at six.

When it seemed everything was in hand, I took that moment to freshen up, removing the apron and washing my face and hands in my room. Leona was with mother, helping the maid, Milly, while Ellen was outside smoking tobacco.

My mood today was due to a combination of things. Firstly, the conversation with Mr. Hindman had been a pleasant surprise. He was an affable man. He did not show any sign of revulsion when looking at me. It was almost as if I were…normal. The other reason I was in good spirits was that the overland freighters would arrive today, bringing with them a person I had secretly set my cap at. But, William Stanford would never deem me worthy of being his wife, especially since he was devoted to the town beauty, Cybele Houston.

None of that mattered at the moment, as I hurried from the room, determined to catch a glimpse of the elusive Mr. Stanford, who had been gone for nearly three months. He worked for Majors and Russell now, although he once said that, after he married, he would obtain a homestead near Dry Creek and settle down.

I’d worn an especially big bonnet, my favorite, because it hid most of my face. Using the servant’s staircase, I descended quickly, my boots clomping on the hard wood. I was outside in a matter of seconds, taking a back exit. The kitchen garden was located here, enclosed by a wooden fence, which kept the hungry rabbits at bay. The beauty of the day was not to be understated, the sweet smell of grass and wild flowers filling my lungs along with the stench from the outhouse. Having so many guests had left its mark on the little building.

I stood by the fence near the edge of the yard, peering out onto the thoroughfare, although it was quiet at the moment. There were businesses on either side, a bakery, a mercantile, carpentry shops, and other assorted establishments, including the post office. Narrow alleyways separated the wooden buildings, while white tents that belonged to miners were scattered far and wide. Men stood over cooking fires, while others tended to their animals. The better off travelers could afford a room at an establishment such as ours, but most were determined to save every dollar, and three dollars a day was a good wage for a miner.

My wait wasn’t long, as I glimpsed the approaching wagons, looking formidable with their teams of sixteen oxen. The ruckus brought out several people, most of whom I recognized and even more from the post office and saloon. There was Gertrude Harper, who owned the mercantile, and Susanna Smith, wife of Sheriff Smith. A tall, thin woman moved among them, peering down the street. I knew her instantly, and, although I was far from where she was, I recalled her pretty blue eyes and peaches and cream complexion.

William brought the conveyance to a standstill, the wagon bulging with crates and covered in a stained cotton cloth. He had a traveling companion, who took the reins, as William jumped to the ground, rushing towards where Cybele was. It was impossible to turn away now, having to witness their joyous reunion, as he drew her into his arms. She cried loudly, the sound echoing. Although their lips did not meet, his did connect with her cheek, kissing her several times on the face. The unloading of the wagon had already begun, eager business owners wanting their merchandise at once, although the man holding the reins shouted at them.

“You mustn’t take anything yet! I’ve an inventory to manage!”

Cybele’s bonnet had fallen to her back, exposing the breathtaking beauty of her face. Tears streamed down her perfect cheeks, while William held her close. Why I persisted in torturing myself like this, I did not know. They had been my classmates. I’d known them my entire life. They had seen me before illness had ravaged my person, nearly ending my life in the process. Somewhere in their memories, they knew what I looked like beneath these old, discolored scars.

The memories…

When I was nine-years-old, William had held my hand behind a tree once, saying, “Willow, you’re the prettiest girl in town.”

“Do you really think so?” I batted my eyelashes at him.

“Indeed. Someday, when I’m older, I’ll ask you to marry me. I’ve given it a great deal of thought, and I do believe we’d get on rather well.”

“When will that happen?”

“When you’re eighteen, and once I’ve made my fortune. I’ll build you a lovely house, and then we can settle and live happily ever after.”

“With animals?”

“Yes, of course, silly. We’ll need a horse for the wagon and a cow for milking.”

“I’d love a cat. I adore them.”

“Then you shall have as many as you want. We’ll need them to kill the mice in the barn.”

“You have it all figured out, William.”

He nodded affirmatively. “Yes, I do.”

His face, even then, had been filled with freckles, the tiny kind that bespoke of hours spent in the sun. We had been inseparable, entirely devoted to one another, and the strictest of confidants. He had told me about how he had seen his father cavorting with a “painted lady” once, spying him entering a parlour house one night. He’d never revealed this to anyone else, especially his mother. I had given him a lock of my hair, tying a satin ribbon around it for safekeeping. He had lent me a handkerchief, which I had forgotten to return. It was embroidered with his family’s initials in the corner. I was in possession of that scrap of linen still, tucked away in a wooden box with all the other things I held dear and did not wish to lose.