Cowboy Homecoming. Louise M. Gouge
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water upstairs to clean the floors before my boarders come home in another hour.”
Laurie noticed the bucket. “She shouldn’t be carrying full buckets up these stairs.”
Doc shook his head. “I’ve tried to tell her.”
“What you didn’t tell me is how I’m gonna take care of my boarders if I don’t—”
“That’s the last bucket you’ll carry.” Tolley appeared in the doorway to the front hall. “From now on, I’ll take care of hauling water.” He gave Laurie a gentle smile.
Her heart popped right up into her throat. Because of his kind offer, of course, not because of that smile.
“Hey, Tolley.” Doc spared him a glance as he continued his assessment of Mrs. Foster’s injuries. “Good thing you happened along when you did.”
“You want me to carry Mrs. Foster upstairs?” He stood there in his bare feet and with muddy socks dangling from one hand.
“I want to stabilize her injuries first.”
Mrs. Foster sighed, and her pale cheeks turned pink. “I’m so sorry to be such trouble.”
“Now, now,” Doc said. “You’re no trouble at all. Tolley, would you go back to the surgery and ask Maisie to send over a large and a small splint?” He gave Tolley a quick grin. “You could put something on your feet first.”
Now Tolley’s cheeks took on a little color. “Sure thing.” He made his way to the front staircase, and the sound of his bare feet running up the steps came through the walls and ceiling.
If Mrs. Foster’s situation weren’t so dire, Laurie would’ve giggled. “Is there anything else I can do?”
“How about some tea?” Doc’s forehead creased slightly. “Wait. Mrs. Foster, would you like for Laurie to help you into some dry clothes?”
“Y-yes, p-please.” She shivered again despite the warm day.
Laurie didn’t need further instructions. Within ten minutes, she’d fetched a dry gown and underpinnings for the lady and helped her change while Doc made tea in the kitchen. Tolley returned with the splints, then disappeared upstairs while Doc secured them to Mrs. Foster’s leg and arm. Doc also gave her the tea.
“I’m sorry to say the arm is broken, but I think your ankle is only sprained. The willow bark in your tea should help a little with the pain, but be sure to tell me if you need something stronger.” He lifted Mrs. Foster and began the trek up to her room. With Tolley and Laurie helping, they soon settled her in her four-poster bed.
“Oh, dear.” The usually calm lady fluttered her uninjured hand over the quilted coverlet. “How will I care for my boarders?”
“Don’t you worry for a minute.” Laurie gently grasped that fluttering hand and patted it. “I’ll move in and manage everything for you.” Even Ma would approve of her taking care of the lady who’d taught Laurie to sing and play the piano.
“Would you, my dear?” Mrs. Foster’s eyes grew moist again. “I’d be so grateful.”
“I’ll be here, too.” Tolley gave Doc a doubtful look. “If you think it’s all right.”
“Most folks are pretty understanding when a need arises like Mrs. Foster’s. And, after all, another unattached lady and gentleman live here, and no one has considered it improper.”
“Good to hear.” Tolley grinned, his relief apparent.
Laurie considered what to do next. “I’ll see what I can find in the kitchen for supper.”
“I planned fried chicken, dear,” Mrs. Foster said. “Would you mind—Ow, oh, dear...” She gripped her injured arm with her free hand.
“Ma’am,” Doc said, “if you don’t object, I’m going to give you a dose of laudanum. A good rest will help you to heal.”
“Oh, my.” She gave him a doubtful look. “I suppose so.”
“Fried chicken coming up.” Laurie hoped her cheerful tone would encourage Mrs. Foster. She hadn’t cooked in two years, but it should be like riding a horse. Once in the saddle or, in this case, the kitchen, everything should come back to her. Or so she hoped.
Doc gave Mrs. Foster her laudanum and instructed Laurie on subsequent doses. Then the three of them left her to rest and went downstairs.
“I know you’ll manage things here, sis.” Doc patted Laurie on the shoulder. “I’ll send Maisie over to check on you later this evening.”
“I’ll be fine, although I do need to let Ma and Pa know where I’m staying. Maybe Georgia could pack more clothes for me and bring them to town.”
“When Adam Starling comes by to see if we need anything, I’ll send him out to the ranch to arrange it.” Toting his black satchel, he headed for the front door.
“I guess I’d better see about supper.” Laurie glanced through the large opening to the parlor, where she’d spent countless days taking piano lessons from Mrs. Foster. The old upright piano still sat in the corner, an embroidered linen runner protecting its mahogany top. The house appeared spotless. How did Mrs. Foster do all the cooking and laundry and also clean her boarders’ rooms? Laurie moved toward the kitchen door. “First I should clean up the stairs.”
“What should I do?” Tolley followed her.
“Peel some potatoes and—”
Before she could finish, the front door opened, and Mrs. Runyan walked in. The short, middle-aged woman set her parasol in the hall tree by the door and took a step toward the staircase. Seeing Laurie and Tolley, she stopped and gasped, her brown eyes wide with shock.
“What on earth is going on here?”
Behind her, a well-dressed gentleman entered the house. “Who are you people?” He removed his black bowler hat, narrowed his already beady eyes and glared at Laurie first, then at Tolley.
Tolley stood so close to her she could feel him bristling. The boy she’d grown up with had a quick temper, so the accusatory looks in the boarders’ eyes might easily set him off. She stepped in front of him.
“Mrs. Runyan, how nice to see you. And you must be Mr. Parsley.” She reached out to the short, slender gentleman. “How do you do? I’m Laurie Eberly. This is Bartholomew Northam.”
“Indeed!” The man moved back and stared at her hand like it was a rattlesnake. A growl rumbled in Tolley’s throat, and even Laurie battled with her temper. But an angry retort wouldn’t solve anything.
“Mrs. Foster had an accident. We are her lifelong friends, and we came to help.” She could hear the snippiness in her own voice at his suggestion of impropriety.
“Indeed?” Mrs. Runyan looked at her up and down, then did the same to Tolley. “Am I to understand you two unattached young people will both be residing here to assist her?”
Laurie bit her lip. Apparently the woman had no interest in learning what happened to Mrs. Foster.
“Yes, we’ll be residing here.” Tolley moved toward Mrs. Runyan, towering over her, and gave her a deceptively charming smile. “Like you and Mr. Parsley.”
Mrs. Runyan gasped. “Why, you impudent young man. I am a respectable widow and a gifted milliner. The wealthiest ladies in town patronize my shop. I am above reproach.”
After looking down his long, pointed nose at Mrs. Runyan, Mr. Parsley lifted his equally pointed chin. “I am an important businessman.” He sniffed with indignation. “People come from all over the San Luis Valley and beyond to engage my watchmaking services.”
“Well,” Laurie chirped. Apparently neither of these newcomers knew the Eberlys and Northams were the founding families of Esperanza. “Now we all know who we