McShannon's Land, chapter 3

CHAPTER 3


In the middle of morning barn chores Colin stopped and leaned on the half-door, his eyes on the sleek, blood bay stallion in the stall. He remembered Flying Cloud as a rangy four-year-old colt. The horse had changed almost as much over the years as Trey.

Up and down the aisle, the occupants of the other stalls stamped and whinnied for their breakfast. Colin breathed in the smells of horses, grain and clover hay and felt a warm rush of pride. Trey had chosen his breeding stock well. Their shared dream of raising Thoroughbreds was taking shape here in this new land.

Trey came out of the next stall and joined Colin where he stood. Looking up at his tall son, Colin felt a familiar ache in his chest. The lad had his mother’s features cast in a masculine mold, along with Sidonie’s dark eyes. To cover a tangle of feelings, Colin turned back to the horse he’d given Trey at fourteen.

“My word, he looks fit.”

“Yeah, he does. He can still run, too.” At the sound of Trey’s voice, Cloud came to the stall door. Trey reached into his pocket and offered him a slice of dried apple. “He got me out of more than one tight spot during the war.”

Silence settled between them, broken only by the sound of the stallion munching his treat. How many hours like this had they shared in the barn at home? Colin struggled for words, struggled to get past the image of an eighteen year old boy standing on a pier in New York, watching his family sail away.

“Lad, I want to apologize to you.”

He watched surprise and shock mingle on Trey’s face. “For what?”

“For leaving you to sink or swim like I did.”

Surprise gave way to irritation. Trey hadn’t lost his Surette temper. “Dad, you didn’t leave me. You nagged me to go with you, but I decided to stay, remember?”

“What choice did you have? In England, you’d have had no chance to be anything but a farm laborer or a stable lad. Hell, you were already too big to race like I did. I’d never have gotten out any other way. If I’d stayed in Georgia instead of going home and kept the farm going –”
“If you’d kept the farm going the army would have taken the crops, and the horses would have gone for cannon fodder. As for me, I’d have joined the Troop and likely not have come home at all. Most of the boys didn’t.” The irritation suddenly left Trey’s eyes, pushed away by regret. “I know when I settled here, my letters were a bit few and far between and didn’t say a whole lot that mattered. I was working hard, I was tired, and I couldn’t write about the war. I was still too close to it. You thought I was angry with you, didn’t you?”

Colin reached into the stall, caught Cloud’s halter and rubbed the stallion’s nose. He couldn’t deny it. He suddenly felt petty, remembering the emotion on Trey’s face when they’d met in town. “The thought crossed my mind. It would have been only natural.”

The half-door creaked as Trey leaned beside him, his words low and emphatic. “Dad, staying was my choice. Joining the Union army was my choice, too. Besides, if things had happened differently I would never have met Beth. She and the baby make it all worth it.”

With a burden of guilt slipping from his heart, Colin raised his eyes to his son’s. The lad’s air of quiet strength and contentment spoke of a happy marriage, but it felt good to hear him say so. Colin cleared his throat and steadied his voice.

“Thank you, Trey.”

Trey put an arm around his shoulders. “I was too young then to really understand what it was like for you, losing Mother, but I know what it would be like for me now to lose Beth. You don’t have to apologize to me for anything. And you didn’t race your way out of England, you gambled your way out.”

Colin laughed, breaking the tension. The years of separation seemed to dissolve. Though they’d had the quarrels any stubborn father and equally strong-willed son were bound to have as Trey grew up, nothing had ever seriously strained the bond between them. Yes, it was all worth it.

“Riding the horses or betting on them, does it matter? And you’re a fine one to speak of gambling, choosing a wife by mail.”
“Well, it paid off. Now let’s get to work or we’re going to be late for breakfast.”

They hurried through the chores and went in to find Martin entertaining the children while Beth and Chelle got breakfast. Martin had started for the barn with Trey and Colin, but Chelle had held him back with a look, knowing Colin had wanted some time alone with his son. She’d always been able to read him well.

“It’s well you built the new rooms last winter, lad, or we’d be overflowing the place. You’ve learned a thing or two about carpentry, I’d say.” Colin glanced at the home-made, square-legged pine table with its embroidered white cloth and the simple ochre-painted dresser in the corner by the stove, then touched the frame of the painting that hung beside the door, a study of a bowl of apples in vibrant reds and yellows. “Is this one of Beth’s?”

Trey finished washing his hands at the counter and reached for a towel. “Yes, she did that over the winter.” Other paintings lent grace to the cabin’s rough-hewn log walls. A bright Indian rug added more color in front of the stove, and a loaf of fresh hot bread waited on the kitchen dresser, its tempting fragrance filling the room. The lad had built a solid house, but Beth had made it a home.

Martin sat with the children on the bunk that served as a couch, against the wall between the doorways to the new rooms. As Colin took Trey’s place at the counter, he heard his younger granddaughter, Sidonie, whisper.

“Dad, is it true that there are wolves here? And mountain lions?”

Her older brother sat beside her, with a slightly guilty gleam in his dark eyes. The Surette looks had come through in him, but Sidonie was Martin’s child, a freckled strawberry blonde. Trey crossed the room, knelt in front of the little girl and laid a hand on her knee.

“Don’t believe everything the boys tell you, Sidonie. There aren’t any wolves, and the mountain lions steer around us when they pass through. They’re afraid of people.” Colin caught his grandson’s eye and grinned. He’d have done exactly the same thing at that age, and so would Trey.
Ten-year-old Greer finished setting the table. Beth called everyone to their places. Colin looked around at his growing family, the youngest in her cradle across the room.

Our children have done well, Sidonie. You must be pleased.

Trey inhaled deeply as Beth set down a platter of sausages and scrambled eggs. Chelle gave him a pointed look.

“I see the three of you have gotten your appetites back today. I’ve never seen anyone looking as green around the gills as you all did when you got home yesterday.”

Trey rolled his eyes. Out of hearing of the children, Beth and Chelle had vented their feelings in no uncertain terms when the men got back from their night as Nate’s ‘guests’. Colin hastened to change the subject before Chelle could really get started.

“Trey wasn’t lying when he said you had talent, Beth. Some of our neighbors in Morgan County had good artwork on their walls. Yours is well done.”

Beth’s dry smile over her shoulder as she sliced bread told him she knew exactly what he was about. “Thanks. A couple of my pieces sold in New York over the winter, but I’m not expecting fame and fortune anytime soon.”

“Trey also wrote that you’d a liking for a horse race. He said you’ve left him in the dust more than once.”

Beth brought the bread to the table, darted a saucy glance at Trey and pinched his arm. “It’s very good for him.”

“You’re just getting cocky because Chance is a little faster than Cheyenne, that’s all.” Trey’s brows lowered in a mock frown. “If you start bragging, I’ll weight your saddle. It isn’t fair.”

Colin couldn’t resist the opening. “I’ll lay you odds that she can take two out of three from you, lad. Time trials on Cloud, with weight to make it even. Martin, what’ll you bet?”

Chelle sighed and shook her head. “He hasn’t changed, Trey. Remember the time he almost lost Jezebel to George Sinclair playing poker? Mother was furious.”

Colin remembered well enough. He’d figured three kings entitled a man to take some chances, even with his best mare, and George had never been able to bluff worth a damn, but Sidonie hadn’t seen it that way. She’d laid into Colin in fine form when she got word of the game.

“Your mother would never have known if that young whelp Justin hadn’t told you. And I didn’t almost lose Jezebel. I knew I had the better hand. Do you think I’d have risked so fine a mare otherwise?”

Chelle and her brother exchanged a glance that meant collusion. Trey put down his fork and leaned his elbows on the table. “You never did tell us how much you won from George that day, Dad.”

Colin harrumphed. “It’s none of your business, and little pitchers have big ears.”

Beth took her seat. “I like the time trial idea, Colin. What do you think, Trey?”

“I think Cloud’s getting a little old for that kind of thing.”

“Hmmm. Just last week you said you’d bet he could still run close to a two-minute mile. His age has caught up to him rather quickly, don’t you think?” Beth flashed Trey an impudent grin. Colin’s heart expanded with contentment. Trey had always had a good eye for quality, and it hadn’t failed him in the matter of marriage.

Trey grinned back. “All right, you’re on. Now let’s eat while it’s hot. Dad, will you say grace?”

Colin looked around the table again before he bowed his head. Two fine grown children, married and settled with young ones growing up around them…yes, Sidonie must be pleased. The words of thanks came with more sincerity than they ever had before. “For bringing us together again, and for the food before us, we thank you, Lord.”

Amen.
****

Lorie mopped her perspiring face with her handkerchief and stood back to survey her morning’s work. Bright bolts of fabric lay stacked on the store’s newly cleaned shelves. A selection of hats, bonnets and lace collars filled the display case, and a rack on the wall held spools of ribbon in every color of the rainbow. The place looked as fresh and crisp as if it had just come out of a bandbox, but Lorie felt as limp and grimy as a used dishrag. She yearned for a bath and a cup of coffee, and there was no reason she couldn’t have them. She had the rest of the day to herself, and she’d need it to get herself together for tomorrow’s opening.

She locked the store, dropped the key in her pocket, looked up…and froze at the sight of a man’s reflection in the window.

Knowing he could see her reflection, too, Lorie kept her eyes down as she slowly turned around. Had he noticed the wild rush of excitement that had come over her at the sight of him? She took a deep breath and put a challenge in her tone as she raised her gaze to his.

“Hello, Nathan. I’m…surprised…to see you here. How did you find me?”

The way he held himself told her his guard was up, too. If the light in his gray eyes, the tan on his face and the solid look of him were any indication, he’d recovered completely from last summer’s injury. He looked better than he had that day at Mrs. Grant’s boarding house.

Heaven help her.

“Hello, Lorie.” At the sound of his voice, her heart stepped up its frantic pounding. “Finding you wasn’t that difficult. It’s part of my job, after all. I got into town yesterday, introduced myself at the marshal’s office, and told them I was looking for you. They were more than happy to help.”

Panic rose in Lorie’s throat. Nathan would never intentionally betray her past, but she didn’t want to draw any kind of attention from the law. “But I haven’t been in any kind of trouble since –”

He stepped closer. Lorie instinctively stepped back. Annoyance flickered in his eyes, making her face heat. She’d never let herself show intimidation in front of him before.

“I know. I said you were an old friend, nothing more. Beth McShannon told me last summer you were working at a store, so I got a list of possible places from the marshal and started making the rounds. Yesterday evening I came to Belle Harper’s, and she told me you were opening your own place here. Simple.” Nate reached out as if to touch her, then dropped his hand. “You look good, Lorie.”

“God, Nate, my hair’s a mess, I’m sweaty and I probably smell.” Nathan, on the other hand, looked cool and unruffled with his freshly shaven face, blue linen shirt and worn black denim trousers that hugged him in all the right places. Just hearing his voice did outrageous things to her, brought back a year’s worth of suppressed longings. Lorie had to force herself to hold his gaze.

“Are you in Denver on sheriff’s business, or did you come to find me?”

“Both. There may be trouble coming your way, Lorie. Is there some place we can talk?”

An excuse? That wouldn’t be like Nathan. “What kind of trouble?”

“You’d know that better than me.” Nathan stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Your father showed up in Wallace Flats a couple of days ago, looking for you. He didn’t impress me, and I’ve always figured you left home for a good reason, so I decided to find you and let you know.”

Lorie’s breath left her in a rush. Her father in Wallace Flats, Caleb here in Denver –that had to be more than a coincidence. The thought shook her, but not as much as Nathan’s nearness did. She needed time to regroup.

“Nathan, I’m a mess. Walk me back to my boarding house and give me half an hour, then we’ll go someplace and talk.”

He offered her his arm, something he’d never done in Wallace Flats – probably because he’d thought, rightly, that she wouldn’t take it. She considered not taking it now, but the merest hint of one of Nate’s mocking grins played at the corners of his mouth. Lorie ordered her shaky knees to behave and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow.

“You look good too, Nate, well-fed and well-rested. Is Wallace Flats getting too tame for you?”

“Some days, yeah.” She felt the tension in him, though his laugh was low and easy. “Congratulations, Lorie. You’re a business woman.”

Lorie glanced up at him as she fell into step with his quick, uneven stride. Nate was the one person she’d always been frank with, to a point. “I’ve been a business woman ever since I left home. It’s the money I saved over those years that let me do this. Can you imagine what the good ladies of Denver would say if they knew?”

“It’s easy to condemn when you’ve never had to fend for yourself. But I don’t think you’ve ever cared all that much for public opinion.”

“I cared more than you might believe, Nathan.” A middle-aged couple passed them, the woman with the kind of indulgent smile she might give a pair of young lovers. Nathan nodded, a gleam of male satisfaction in his eyes. Lorie looked away, silently cursing him for coming upon her unexpectedly. If she’d had some notice, she might have done a better job of hiding her reaction.

They stopped talking as they turned onto the side street that led to Lorie’s boarding house. She couldn’t think of anything to say that didn’t seem unforgivably stupid, and Nathan seemed quite content to stroll along with her arm tucked under his, looking as if he owned the world. She knew he was subtly teasing her, and he knew that she knew.

At last they reached the boxy two-storey brick house where Lorie boarded. She read Nate’s thoughts as he looked the place up and down. A far cry from a back room at Neil Garrett’s place.

She didn’t sense any judgment from him. She never had. He’d been drawn to her when she wore low-cut gowns and swore like a man, and now… what did he think now? Lorie doubted if Nate had ever been very attracted to proper women.

She pulled her arm from his, looked up and felt the tug of his eyes again. Hopeless. “Nate, give me until three o’clock to clean up. Would you like me to meet you somewhere?”

“No, I’ll come back here. Think I’ll wait in that little park we passed.” He pulled a watch from his shirt pocket. “See you at three.” Nathan walked away, leaving Lorie to wash and try to rein in her rioting feelings.