Cowboy to the Rescue. Louise M. Gouge
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least the old padre who named these mountains was.” He shot a curious glance her way. “And you?”
His question confused her for only a moment. “Oh, yes. My mama always said that after all the South suffered in the war, she didn’t know how anyone could go on without the Lord.” She instantly regretted bringing up the devastating conflict that had shaped her entire life. But Nate didn’t bat an eye, so she hurried on. “I made my decision to follow Christ when I was nine years old, and He’s never let me down.” His understanding smile invited her to echo his question. “And you?”
“Yep, around that same age. Ten, actually.” He stared off as if remembering. “When the Colonel came home safely from the war in answer to our prayers.” A frown briefly creased his brow, though Susanna could not guess why. “Of course, lots of fathers came home badly wounded or didn’t come home at all. But at ten, I was only concerned about my own. As time went on, praying and trusting God became as natural as breathing.” He grunted out a laugh. “Now, don’t get the idea I see myself as somebody special. Just the opposite, because I need the Lord’s help all the time to do the right thing.”
Susanna’s heart warmed at his guileless confession. “I believe we all do, Nate.” She’d watched Daddy’s faith dip after Mama’s death, but as they headed west, he seemed to grow more encouraged. Although she would never understand his urge to go digging for silver, anything that gave him a reason to live had her approval, even if she had to be dragged along on his quest. Even if she had to wait to see her own dreams come true. She supposed parents were always a mystery to their children. “Do you always call your father the Colonel?”
“Yep, just like everybody else.” Nate grimaced. “If you ever meet him, you’ll understand why.”
“He’s that intimidating?” Susanna knew many former military officers, Daddy included, but they were Southern gentlemen and never made a lady feel uncomfortable. Maybe Northern officers didn’t have the same good manners. They’d certainly treated the South badly.
“You could say that.” Nate stood and took her empty plate, setting both of them in a metal pail.
“I’ll wash the dishes.” She rose and brushed dust and twigs from her skirt.
“Nope.” Nate held up a hand. “You go see to your father. Maybe you can light a lamp and read to him. I’m sure he’d like to have his mind on something other than...” He shrugged, a charming gesture that conveyed sympathy and understanding.
“Thank you. I’ll do that.” Tears stung Susanna’s eyes, but she managed to keep her voice steady. “We’ve been reading Charles Dickens’s Bleak House on our journey. Fortunately, those thieves weren’t interested in stealing books. I’m sure hearing another chapter will take his mind off his pain.” How kind and thoughtful this man was. Not at all like the Yankee carpetbaggers she’d learned to distrust and avoid. But she quickly shut the door on the warm feelings trying to invade her heart. Mama would turn over in her grave if Susanna even considered finding a Yankee attractive.
“Bleak House. That’s a good book. My folks sent me back east for a year at Harvard, and that’s where I first read Dickens’s works.”
So Nate had an education and liked to read good books. Now she had something to discuss with him, something that would keep her thoughts off how handsome he was.
She climbed into the back of the wagon to find Daddy staring at her with a slight grin on his dear bruised face. Heat flooded her cheeks. Had he been listening through the canvas to her conversation with Nate? She searched her memory for anything that might have sounded improper but came up with a clear conscience. Why had she worried? Probably because Nate was a Yankee, and Daddy had always said nothing good ever came out of any Yankee. But here he lay with more mischief than censure in his eyes.
“What are you up to?” She would get the upper hand before he could say anything.
He chuckled, then coughed, then grimaced and groaned.
“Oh, dearest, don’t laugh.” She knelt beside him. “Zack said you probably have some broken ribs and should try not to laugh or cough.” She eased him up and gave him a drink of water from a canteen. “Would you like for me to read to you?”
He gave a brief nod. “First take this.” He handed her a wrinkled, sealed envelope from the broken remnants of their traveling desk.
“What on earth?” She accepted it only to discover its unusual weight. “Is this one of our gold pieces in here?”
“Shh.” He gently clasped her free hand and whispered, “Tomorrow when we reach that hotel, slip this to the manager—before Northam speaks to him, if you can. And don’t say anything about it to these cowboys.”
“What?” Her mind could conceive of no sensible reason for Daddy’s request.
“Shh!” He glanced toward the back opening of the wagon. “Just do as I ask, daughter.” He patted her hand. “Will you?”
Susanna swallowed hard. In all her born days, she’d never seen Daddy do anything dishonest. Back home in the dry-goods store, he’d always taken a loss rather than offend a customer. Surely, she could obey this simple order. “Yes, sir, I will.”
But an odd foreboding crept into her heart and kept her awake far into the night.
* * *
After breakfast the next morning, Nate and Zack hitched up the teams and prepared to head out. As he had several times a day since leaving Pueblo, Nate checked the cargo in his wagon, lifting a silent prayer that they could get it home without any difficulty. So far they’d managed, but they still had the river to cross.
He’d just replaced the canvas cover when Susanna approached and stared up at him with those pretty blue eyes. Without her coat, she appeared much thinner, the mark of most people who had crossed the prairies. This little gal could use a regular diet of steak and potatoes so she could put some meat on those bones.
“Would it be rude of me to ask what’s in your wagon?”
He couldn’t imagine thinking she was rude. Nor could he imagine denying her any request. He loosened the ropes but paused before lifting the canvas covering. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Pretty much.”
Her impish grin tickled his insides and made him chuckle. Whoa. He really needed to get a handle on these wayward feelings. “Well...” He drawled out the word. “I guess I’ll trust you, anyway.” He pulled the canvas back a few feet to reveal one of the four crates. “It’s a gift for my mother. My folks will be celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, and the whole community plans to take part in the festivities.” Tucked around and between the crates were supplies that he’d bought to divert Mother’s attention from the real purpose of his trip. “If the Colonel has any say about it, it’ll be the biggest party ever given in the San Luis Valley.”
Instead of being impressed, Susanna pursed her plump lips into a silly pout. “You’re giving her wooden boxes?” She slid him a sideways glance. “Now, you know I’m going to ask what’s inside them.”
He laughed out loud. “All right, then, Miss Curious.” For the first time in his life, he understood how Samson must have felt when Delilah kept wheedling him to learn the secret of his strength. “It’s china. The Colonel had it imported from England.” Imagining the joy Mother would feel when she received it come July, Nate felt a kick of anticipation. “Wedgwood,” he added for effect, though why he was trying to impress Susanna, he didn’t know. “Of course, Mother thinks her present is the new addition to the house.”
The wonderment brightening her pretty face gave him the answer, for he had a hard time tamping down the strong urge to give her whatever she wanted. What was wrong with him? They’d just met yesterday. He didn’t really know all that much about her. All he knew was that no other lady had ever affected him this way. Certainly not Maisie, who was more like a sister than someone he wanted to court.