A Timeless Romance Anthology: Old West Collection Page 26

  Once they’d entered the building, Slim took her in his arms for the dance, and believe it or else, he floated her around that floor like he’d been born to the ballroom.

  I feel like a gentleman. Me, a rude cowman, ill-schooled and all rough around the edges, he thought. I swear it’s her doing, smiling upon me like that.

  Slim felt a turning inside his chest and realized that he’d just fallen in love with Miss Faith Bannister.

  Chapter Three

  “It is not my turn,” Baldy Babbitt insisted, punctuating his point with a finger jabbed into Slim’s chest.

  “Hold your horses,” Slim rejoined. “Which of you fellows mended fence last week?” He looked around at a circle of antagonistic faces staring at him.

  Baldy didn’t yield his place in front of Slim. “It was me ’n’ Banjo. We was the ones who done the work. It ain’t right you want us to dig post holes this week too.”

  Slim searched his love-befuddled memory. After a moment he said, “You’re right, Baldy. I was wrong. Get back to the herd. Banjo, you’re off the hook too.” He gestured with his head.

  “See now,” Baldy said. “You should’ve said that right off when I brung the sitchiation to your notice. You’re larning, McHenry.” He caught Banjo’s eye, and they moved away.

  As the two men left the circle, Slim swung his gaze over the other cowhands. “Hunter, you and Bray are up for the post hole digging. Get a move on.”

  Hunter mumbled something foul in a low voice, gave Slim a hard look, and marched off. Bray followed, looking over his shoulder at Slim.

  Slim endeavored to hide his shudder. Those two together spelled trouble. He could feel it to his toes as he assigned out the other work for the day.

  A few days later, finding his stock tally short, Slim tapped Curly to accompany him into town for supplies for a pursuit.

  “Fifteen head,” Slim said, a grim set to his mouth. “This rustling has to stop.”

  Faith listened as Charley recited a poem she’d taught the class last week. His resigned face sagged in surprise when Mary began to scream.

  Her piercing shrieks continued as Faith jumped to her feet and rushed around her desk to offer aid and comfort. By then, Mary had climbed atop her desk, hauling Hortense along with her. Her cries turned to sobs, and she clung to Hortense with all her might.

  Faith stopped short and slowly motioned Charley back toward the corner. A rattlesnake slithered under a desk then veered into the aisle near the stove and began to contort itself into a coil. “Children, get up on your desks,” she managed to say through a constricted throat.

  Puzzled but obedient, they scrambled up then looked around the floor for danger. The older girls cried out in alarm.

  “Charley, there’s a pistol in my desk drawer. Please hand it to me,” Faith said.

  He found it, making snuffling noises.

  Faith put her hand backward to receive the gun, as she dared not take her eyes off the reptile. She adjusted her grip as she said in a low voice, “Paul, please tell the class what manner of snake that is.”

  “Wa-wa-western duh-duh-diamondbuh-back rah-rah-rattlesnake, miss,” Paul stuttered while Faith took a step forward. The girls all sucked in their breath in unison.

  “No, miss!” wailed Mary’s sister, Christine.

  Faith took another step, fighting her panic. She had to be close enough for her shots to count. She hoped Father would be vindicated in his decision to educate and train his daughter as well as if she’d been a son.

  From the corner, Charley sniffed. Faith placed her left hand on Joey’s desktop and leaned forward as the snake began to shake its rattle.

  God, please guide my aim, she prayed and grasped the gun with both hands. She extended her arms, slowed her breathing, and sighted on the head. Then she held her breath and squeezed the trigger once, then twice more for good measure.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  She dimly heard an uproar over the ringing in her ears; remembered the children. She let out her breath, took another, and said, “Go! Out the door.”

  Feet clumped on the floorboards as the children escaped. Faith heard her heart thumping in the dense silence that followed. Then heavier footfalls pounded into the schoolhouse and she looked up. Slim McHenry hesitated inside the door, staring at the headless snake. He rushed down the aisle.

  Faith began to shake.

  Slim kicked the dead snake aside, took the pistol from Faith’s hand, and laid it on a desk. Then he grasped both her hands in his and asked, “You killed it?”

  She couldn’t stop shaking, but nodded.

  “Holy Hannah,” Slim murmured.

  She wished he would embrace her like Father would have done. She looked into his eyes, saw something approaching awe. His gaze softened, he enveloped her in strong arms, and she gave in to sobs, just as Mary had done.

  “There, there, miss,” he whispered. “What a grand woman you are.”

  As he left the schoolhouse, Slim thought how lucky he and Miss Faith had been that she was able to compose herself before anyone else had arrived to investigate the gunfire. Just after she’d left his arms, quite a crowd had gathered to comment on the lady’s bravery and to examine the snake.

  He mentally shook himself, picked up Curly and the supplies, and got on the trail of another kind of snake, a human who stole cattle.

  They didn’t know much. Was the rustler armed? Would the chase take them into Pleasant Valley, where the feud was winding down but a stranger was still a stranger? Intruding into his assessment of the dangers he and Curly might face was the hum in his nerve endings lingering from his embrace with Miss Faith. He’d only offered her needed comfort, but Great Nellie! It had felt mighty good to hold her for a moment, to indulge in a dream.

  Unfortunately, they lost the tracks of the cattle on an area covered with splintered malapai rock. Although they cast around for any sign of the herd, they came up unsuccessful.

  “Who drives cows into this loose stuff?” Curly complained.

  Slim pressed his lips together tightly before he spoke. “Some varmint who knows we’re coming after him.” There was nothing to do but return to the ranch empty-handed.

  After breakfast the next morning, Slim asked the cook, “Has anybody been missing meals the last few days?”

  “Only you and Mr. Price,” Mrs. Marks said. She thought for a moment. “Mr. Hunter did ask me to pack extra victuals for him and Mr. Bray while they worked on the fence line. He said it was a waste of time to come in for meals if they could stay out and finish the job.”

  That made sense. It didn’t sound like Hunter’s usual attitude about work, but Slim had emphasized the importance of fixing the rest of the fence. Perhaps the man wanted to get the chore over and done with. He thanked Mrs. Marks and turned away.

  Although Slim hadn’t caught the cattle thieves, he had work to do before he took Saturday off, when Miss Faith would be visiting the ranch. Warmth flooded his soul at the memory of the embrace he had shared with her. Pleasant as the occurrence had been, he would not dare mention it to anyone. Miss Faith had been under duress. He wouldn’t cause her embarrassment.

  Stifling his yearning to further his acquaintance with the school teacher, Slim went to work.

  Saturday came. Faith stood on the walk in front of Perkins’ store, brushing imaginary specks of lint off her dress, and waiting for Slim McHenry to come with his wagon. Mrs. Perkins came out of the store, waving goodbye to her husband.

  “I declare, it’s mighty kind of you to invite me to accompany you, Miss Faith. I appreciate the time off.”

  Faith leaned into the street to look down the road. “I don’t see Mr. McHenry. Is he late?”

  “He’ll be along. Slim’s a punctual young man.”

  Faith tried to gather her wits enough to make small talk. “Have you lived here long, Mrs. Perkins?”

  “Call me Edith, dearie. Mr. Perkins and I have been here nigh on to six years, now. It seems like we come just yesterday.” She also look
ed down the street.

  Faith brushed her dress again. “What could be delaying him?”

  “Don’t worry. He’s not late. It isn’t eight o’clock yet.”

  “It’s not? I thought I arrived late.” Faith pulled a tiny watch out of her bag and shook it, then held it to her ear. “It’s not running.”

  Mrs. Perkins laid her hand on Faith’s arm. “You’re nervous waiting for that good-looking cowboy to show up and meeting Mr. Ramsey and all. It wouldn’t surprise me none if he’s taken a shine to you.”

  “Mr. Ramsey? We haven’t met.”

  “Why no. I mean that lanky foreman, Slim McHenry.” Mrs. Perkins leaned her head to one side and winked.

  Faith drew herself up in righteous indignation. “Mrs. Perkins, I am the school teacher. I didn’t come here to find a man or carry on with a cowboy. You know that’s forbidden in my contract.”

  “I meant no harm, gal.”

  Faith nodded. She wanted to say, “Just leave it be,” but restrained herself. In truth, the foreman intrigued her with his blend of rough and tender attributes. She recalled the strength in his arms around her. Her skin tingled.

  A cloud of dust caught her eye as a wagon drawn by two horses approached. Slim soon brought the team to a halt in front of the store.

  “Good day, ladies!” he shouted, grinning, and dropped to the ground from the seat. “It’s a fine day, and there’s a breeze curling the tips of the pines. Come take a ride.”

  “Indeed,” Faith said, lowering her tight shoulders. She felt a smile on her lips.

  Slim helped Faith onto the seat, then boosted Mrs. Perkins up. He got in beside Faith and turned the horses to retrace his route. “Have you driven through the country before, Miss Faith?” he asked as they pulled into a stand of tall, whispering pines blown by a soft breeze.

  “Not since Mr. Dobbs drove me down from the depot.”

  “I’ll bet you were tired then, after the long trip on the train cars. Sit back and relax yourself. Take in the view.”

  Faith breathed in the sharply sweet scent of pitch, remembering the pine gum one of the pupils had brought her this week. Now here she was on her way to a real ranch. She clasped her fingers together and tried to concentrate on Mr. McHenry’s descriptions of ranch life.

  “...during the roundup next spring, then we ship the cattle to Chicago for processing. That’s a fancy word for slaughter. I hope that don’t offend you, Miss Faith.” He slapped the horses’ rumps with the lines.

  Faith swallowed as Slim’s arm brushed hers. “Why, no. It’s all so interesting.”

  Mrs. Perkins said, “Don’t you scare off our schoolmarm. We want to keep her.”

  “I must earn my own way in the world. I hope to stay as long as possible, if my work is agreeable to the school board.”

  “I’m sure there’s no problem there, as Ralph— Mr. Perkins— thinks you’re a great asset to the community,” Mrs. Perkins patted Faith’s hand. “My boys love having you as schoolmarm. All they can talk about is how brave you are, killing that snake and all.”

  Faith bit her lip without replying. She wished to forget the snake.

  “You’re not worried about what that drunk said at the dance, are you? He don’t know the broad side of a barn from his backside.”

  Faith colored. “Thank you, Mrs. Perkins. I appreciate your support.”

  “Not at all, child. You’ll teach for a term or two, then retire to marry one of our eligible men. We have a bunch of them, and some of them are looking for a wife.” Mrs. Perkins chuckled. “Some of ’em don’t know they’re looking.”

  Faith felt her face flush. A sidelong glance told her that Slim’s face matched her own.

  “Ladies,” he said in a strangled voice, “watch for the view ahead. Sets my heart a-bumping every time I see it.”

  They emerged from the pine forest, and the decided nip in the morning air abated with the warmth of the sun. Slim stopped the wagon. Before them, an immense meadow full of dry grass stretched to the up thrust of the Mogollon Rim. Patches of cloud fluffed in the sky. Nestled amidst a stand of cottonwoods, a two-story house gleamed white, surrounded by outbuildings. The perpendicular ridge of the Rim, red and brown and topped with majestic pines, stood guardian. The sight took Faith’s breath away.

  “It’s magnificent!” she cried.

  “I’m glad you like it. It’s a pride to us all,” Slim said, twitching the lines to get the horses started again. “Mr. Ramsey spent a good long stretch of years building it up.”

  Mrs. Perkins chattered away at Faith’s side. “It’s lovely, just lovely. Imagine me getting the guided tour. I’ve never seen the place before.”

  Slim halted the horses in front of the house and got down from the wagon to assist the ladies. Soon they stood on the porch under the slope of the veranda roof, dusting their dresses.

  “I got the cook’s permission to show you around the house,” Slim said. “Come in and look at the fancy gee-gaws.”

  As they went inside, Faith looked at the glass fan window above the door. A ceiling of stamped tin arched high above them, and a design of yellow roses and thin, gray stripes marched down the papered walls. Dark patches on the wallpaper showed where pictures had been removed. This was a lone man’s house now.

  Faith turned and looked around her. A door stood open to her left, through which she saw a room decorated with mounted animal heads. She felt a pang, remembering the security she’d always felt in her father’s study. She turned away and looked about. An attached staircase led to the upper floor. Another door led to a room on the right. Along a passage, she saw a third door, which she guessed was the kitchen.

  “It’s very lovely, Mr. McHenry,” Faith said. “Is your employer out on the grounds?”

  Slim’s mouth twitched. “Ah, he’s not feeling well. Hasn’t been for weeks. We finally had to put him to bed.”

  “The poor man!” exclaimed Mrs. Perkins. “What ails him?”

  “Not sure, ma’am. His sight is getting bad, but worse than that, he’s, ah, not keeping food down, and he sees things that ain’t there.”

  “Has the doctor been to see him?” Faith asked.

  “Well, no. Ol’ Amos refuses any caretaking.”

  “That’s nonsense!” Mrs. Perkins said. “Men can be so impossible.”

  Faith laid her hand on Slim’s arm. “We should look in on him.”

  Mrs. Perkins agreed.

  “He won’t like it.”

  “I insist. He may be very ill.”

  Slim made a face. “I’ll take you to him, but I hope he don’t yell at you ladies.” He started up the stairs, and Faith and Mrs. Perkins hurried to keep up.

  “McHenry!” a voice roared from above their heads. “Why did you get rid of that angel?”

  “Oh, he’s having a bad spell,” Slim moaned. “He’s carryin’ on about that angel again.”

  Faith caught up to him. “What angel is that?”

  “For the last little while, he’s been talkin’ about seeing an angel. A week or two.”

  “He must have the doctor to see him,” Mrs. Perkins puffed as she joined them on the landing.

  Slim shook his head. “He won’t do it, ma’am.” He cringed as foul language poured over the transom from a room ahead. “Begging your pardon, ladies. He’s getting mighty rank in his language. Maybe you’d prefer to take that tour of the grounds.”

  “Definitely not!” Faith exclaimed. “The man’s clearly in distress. Mrs. Perkins and I can forgive his language. Isn’t that so?”

  “Certainly, dearie. He’s not in his right mind.”

  “He don’t appear to be,” Slim agreed, halting before the door and biting his lip. “Ladies, you can still change your minds...”

  “Lead the way, Mr. McHenry,” Faith said. “The man needs assistance, not censure.”

  “Thank you for your Christian attitude, miss,” Slim said, and opened the door.

  Faith hesitated before stepping into the room, steeling herself for
any verbal abuse Mr. Ramsey might hand out. She took a deep breath and crossed the threshold.

  Amos Ramsey lay in a huge, four-poster bed with a hat hung on each post. Clad in long underwear, he had clearly been covered with a muslin sheet and a thin quilt, but the bedclothes were now strewn on the floor. He thrashed about with jerky movements, muttering nonsense about angels, and cursing encyclopedically.

  Faith gave a cry and ran to the side of the bed. She pressed one hand to his face, which she found hot, dry, and quite red. “Oh my, oh my. Mr. Ramsey, you must have a doctor right away.”

  Although the man did not answer, he quieted under Faith’s touch, grunting incoherently. She blinked to keep back tears. The poor, tormented soul!

  “Yes, indeed,” Mrs. Perkins chimed in, approaching the bed from the other side. She clicked her tongue as she touched his forehead. “The man is delirious with fever.” She turned to Slim. “What has Mr. Ramsey been eating?”

  Slim thought a moment. “Nothing more than we all eat, ma’am— beef and beans.”

  “Hmm.” Mrs. Perkins eyed Mr. Ramsey’s limbs. “He’s not snake-bit, is he?”

  “No, ma’am. There’s not been any swelling, and two weeks with snake venom would have seen him dead by now.”

  Faith looked at Slim, her eyes brimming with tears. “You must send someone for the doctor this instant. He may die.”

  “I don’t know, miss—”

  “She’s right, Mr. McHenry. You don’t want Mr. Ramsey’s death on your conscience.” Mrs. Perkins made as though to shove Slim out the door, and he backed up.

  “He does seem mighty low. Worse than before.”

  “You’re the foreman, isn’t that right?” Mrs. Perkins shook her finger in Slim’s face. “It’s up to you to make decisions when your boss isn’t well enough to do so, correct?”

  “I— I guess so. Yes, I suppose I’d better do that.” Slim turned and stepped into the corridor. He returned immediately. “You ladies will stay with him?”