Wishing on Buttercups (44 page)

The man shook off his grip. “’Bout a mile or less. My ranch is the closest one to town. Don’t need no charity from strangers, though.”

“I’m headed that direction, so it’s not charity. Please. It’s the least I can do.”

Bloodshot eyes met his. “Guess it won’t hurt nothin’ if you’re headed that way.”

Steven stayed close as the older man lumbered into the passenger side of the buggy. He’d have to scrub out the mud before taking the womenfolk to the church, but it couldn’t be helped. It was possible this individual was already lying in the mud when he came along. That would account for Steven not seeing him until he was almost on top of him. But it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t drive off and leave anyone needing help, whether his fault or not.

The ride to the ranch was silent, and Steven kept his gelding at a hard trot, intent on making the best time possible. He drew to a stop in front of a two-story white house sadly wanting paint and repair. Setting the brake, he leaped from the buggy and hurried to the other side, intent on keeping the man from falling as he disembarked. His gelding dropped his head and nibbled at a clump of soggy grass near the base of the hitching post. Steven came to a halt on the passenger side and lifted his hand to the man still sitting inside.

The front door of the house slammed nearby, but Steven kept his attention on the fellow climbing unsteadily to the ground.

The older man ignored Steven’s extended hand. “Don’t need no help, mister. I’m right as rain.” He grasped the handrail next to the seat and swung his legs over. Planting his boot on the step, he edged down, but as soon as his feet hit the ground, he lurched forward, almost into Steven’s arms. Steven grabbed the man’s arm and held him upright.

“Pa? What in the world?” The feminine voice was accompanied by a light patter of steps on the porch. “So I see you finally decided to come home and got another one of your cohorts to bring you.”

Steven loosened his hold on the man’s arm and pivoted, arrested by the undercurrent of anger tingeing the words. His heart jumped. A young woman who looked just a bit younger than he was stared at the man she’d called Pa. Her emerald-green gown matched her bewitching eyes, but the glow emanating from them certainly wasn’t warm or friendly. “I beg your pardon, miss, but I think you’ve misunderstood.”

The fiery redhead stood with her hands planted on trim hips, her green eyes shooting sparks. “I doubt it. You aren’t the first man to bring my father home in this”—she shot an irritated look at her parent—“condition.” She nearly spat the last word. “I appreciate the ride, but I’ll thank you next time not to buy him any more drinks when he’s had more than enough.”

Steven’s heart sank, and he took a step back. The last thing he wanted was to add more sorrow to this woman’s life, but he hated that she thought him responsible. But did it really matter? He wasn’t apt to see her again. He tipped his head. “Sorry for the trouble, ma’am. Now that he’s home and safe, I’ll be on my way.”

Leah gritted her teeth to keep back the words threatening to spew out as the handsome, dark-haired driver picked up the reins and clucked to his horse. This one was certainly younger and better mannered than her father’s other cronies who had delivered her inebriated parent to their door in the past. Anxiety struck her as she remembered the crisp white shirt beneath the suit jacket and the stiffly starched collar. What were the chances he’d come from a saloon dressed like that? She’d probably stuck her foot in her mouth again with her impetuous accusation. Someday she must learn to think before she allowed words to blurt out.

Swiveling, she glared at her father tottering up the path toward the porch. “What do you have to say for yourself, Pa? I’ve been worried sick, not to mention having to do most of the chores myself. Was that man who brought you home drinking with you at the saloon?”

“Who I drink with is my own business, not yours,” he tossed back. “I told that fella I didn’t need his help, and I’m tellin’ you too. If you already did the chores, I’m gettin’ a short nap.”

“Pa! We need to talk.”

He squinted red-rimmed eyes at her. “Done talkin’. I’m hungry, and I’m tired. Millie can fix me a sandwich; then I’m goin’ to bed for an hour or two. Nothin’ to talk about, anyhow.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Go on with you, and leave me alone.”

Leah moved closer, barely containing her frustration. “There is a lot to discuss, Pa. Starting with your drinking. It’s getting out of hand, and it needs to stop or you’ll put this ranch and everything we’ve worked for in danger.”

Pa reached for the newel post at the bottom of the short flight of steps leading to the porch, clamped his hand on top, then maneuvered himself onto the first step. “I won’t tolerate no daughter of mine preachin’ at me about my responsibility or my sins. And it’s my ranch, so I’ll do what I see fit with it. I’ve worked hard makin’ it what it is all these years. You got no call to tell me what to do.” He headed for the door. “Now leave me be whilst I get somethin’ to eat. My head hurts, and I don’t wanna hear anymore.”

Leah looked at the chair propped against the wall, wishing she could kick it again and allow some of her aggravation to escape. Better that than allowing the tears building behind her eyes to spill over.

Charlie Pape plunked into a kitchen chair and slid the plate holding his sandwich closer, happy Millie had fixed it and left. The last thing he needed was another well-meaning female trying to tell him what to do or insisting he change.

He picked up the sandwich and took a bite, working hard to hold onto his aggravation toward his daughter. The girl had no right to tell him what to do or how to live his life. It was his business if he drank, and nobody else’s. And she was dead wrong thinking she knew better than he did how to run this ranch. It had been his for years.

A thought pricked at his conscience, but he pushed it away. It was his ranch, and he intended to make sure it stayed that way.

Leah was a good girl and meant well. He couldn’t fault her there. But she was too much like her mother. Always trying to fix things to swing her own way and not taking into account what he might want. Leah wasn’t his child by birth, but he’d taught her all he knew and was plumb tickled that she seemed to love the ranch as much as her old pa. The girl had been raised here since Charlie married Leah’s ma when Leah was only a baby. He’d always figured he and Mary would live here until their sunset days, and then Leah and whatever man she married would take over for him. Not once had he considered the unthinkable might happen, leaving him alone with only his misery to keep him company.

Steven Harding paced the parlor at the Jacobs’s boardinghouse and took out his pocket watch for at least the tenth time since returning from dropping the stranger at his ranch. Ten minutes after two o’clock—only a minute since he’d last checked. He would have wagered a guess that much more time had passed. Did his sister want to be late to her own wedding?

Women’s voices mingled not far down the hall. Moments later Beth’s adopted aunt, Mrs. Wilma Roberts—or, rather, Marshall, since she’d recently remarried—and her friend, Mrs. Cooper, swept into the room, arms entwined and faces aglow. They came to an abrupt stop and stared, then both erupted in giggles.

He tugged at his tight collar and frowned. “What seems to be the problem, ladies? I can’t imagine what could be so amusing.”

Mrs. Cooper’s grin broadened. She shook her head, and a gray curl slipped loose from under the brim of her dark blue hat. “A stranger might assume you are the groom, if your distraught appearance is any indication. Are you terribly nervous about accompanying your sister down the aisle this afternoon?”

Mrs. Marshall patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you sit down, Steven? It won’t do any good wearing a path in the carpet. Beth will be down soon, and my Caleb will be back to pick up Frances and me.”

“I’m not nervous at all. I simply don’t understand what’s taking so long. We still have to drive to the church. Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs and their children left long ago, and I’m sure Jeffery has been there for hours.”

“Caleb drove my daughter and her family over early to ready the sanctuary for the wedding. And your mother is putting the finishing touches on Beth’s hair. Your sister is going to make a beautiful bride, and Jeffery is blessed to get her. I am quite certain she will be worth whatever amount of time he must wait.” Mrs. Cooper pointed at a chair. “Sit. You are making me nervous, pacing like some caged animal.”

“That’s exactly how I feel.” He sank into the seat indicated and ran his fingers over his closely cropped hair. He glanced at Beth’s aunt, a woman he’d only known for a few months but had come to respect. “How can you be so calm? You weren’t even anxious when you and Caleb married at Christmas. And why aren’t you upstairs helping? I’m sure Beth wants you there.”

Mrs. Marshall frowned. “I don’t know what you have to be so fretful over.” Her face softened. “Beth asked me to stay, but she should have this time with her mother. Isabelle has missed so much of Beth’s life these past years, which I was privileged to enjoy while raising her. I won’t rob your mother of an instant alone with her daughter on this special day. Besides, the ceremony doesn’t start for almost an hour, and the buggy will get us to the church in plenty of time.”

Steven nodded but didn’t reply. He was happy for his mother and sister but longed for this day to hurry to a close. Maybe once Beth was married to Jeffery Tucker, life would return to normal. Finding Beth again after a seventeen-year separation had been exhilarating, but he’d struggled to find his place in the family with the ensuing changes.

He’d been an only child since Beth was lost when he was eight years old, and while he rejoiced at their recent reunion, part of him longed for the time when Ma leaned solely on him for advice and support. Then, suddenly, he was ashamed at the direction his thoughts had taken. More than anything, he was lonely. Steven had thought his sister’s return would unite their family. It hadn’t happened that way. With Ma living at the boardinghouse to be near Beth, and him living in a mining shanty on the outskirts of town to be close to work, he didn’t have muc
h time with either of them. But Ma was happier than he’d ever seen her, and he couldn’t begrudge her that. It was high time he moved on with his life. He’d better get used to being alone.

About the Author