A Love of Her Own (11 page)

Shadows of the town’s outline, created by the late afternoon sunlight, were imprinted in the dusty streets of Lewistown by the time April and Billy stopped the wagon in front of the Stockton Hotel. April scrambled down, ignoring the pointed stares of two ladies conversing on the porch. “Billy, you can bring my things on in.”

She swept through the entryway and marched straight up to the front desk. Not seeing the desk clerk, she slammed her hand down on the bell, causing it to jangle loudly throughout the grand parlor.

Ed walked out from behind the walnut paneling and gave her a cheery smile. “I see you’re back, Miss McBride.”

“I am indeed, and I have my things right outside. I’d like my room to face the street if possible.” She pulled the ledger to her and picked up the pen, ready to sign in.

Ed cleared his throat and coughed slightly. “I’m sorry, there are no vacancies at the moment, I’m afraid.”

She slanted an eyebrow upward. “You must be kidding.” She set the pen down, feeling foolish. She really didn’t want to go back to the boardinghouse and the watchful eyes of Miss Margaret and her daughters. She was hoping for more privacy.

Ed’s faced turned a mottled pink. “Please, Miss McBride, I wouldn’t joke about a thing like this, but I’m sure if you check back next week, there should be vacancies. September is a busy time for the hotel. You know, people wanting to get away from the big city of Billings to enjoy the mountains and the fall color.”

“Is there a problem, here, Ed?” A tall woman with auburn hair piled high on her head walked over to them and propped an arm against the counter.

“Er . . . no, ma’am,” Ed answered nervously. It was obvious that he was trying to be as polite as possible to her.

The woman turned, and her hazel eyes swept over April’s appearance. “Haven’t I seen you somewhere? Oh yes, now I remember. You were at the wedding yesterday.” Ed scurried back to what he was doing, leaving the matter in the woman’s capable hands.

“Yes, I was.” April extended her hand. “I’m April McBride, Josh’s sister, but I don’t believe we’ve met.” April could tell by the woman’s forward style that she could be someone to contend with.

“Nice to meet you,” the woman replied. She quickly shook April’s hand, then took a step back, an odd look registering on her freckled face. “I’m Marion Stockton. My father owns the hotel. I am sorry, but I’m afraid that Ed is right. We are booked.”

The odd look was not lost on April. “I see. Well then . . . I’m sorry to have troubled you. I guess it’s meant for me to stay at Miss Margaret’s boardinghouse until my brother returns.”

Marion arched an eyebrow. “You
could
do worse. Miss Margaret is a very sweet old soul.” Her gaze flew to the wide double doors just as Billy carried a washtub into the foyer.

April had her doubts about that but turned to Billy as he approached. “I’m sorry, Billy, but you’ll have to carry my things back to the wagon.”

“How come?” he asked with an inquisitive look on his face.

Marion answered for her. “The hotel is booked solid for now. From the looks of it, you need a trunk for your clothes, Miss McBride. What happened to your luggage?”

April felt suddenly weary and dragged a loose hair across her forehead, tucking it behind one ear. “You’re right, Miss Stockton. I do need a trunk. But for now, this will have to suffice.” She chewed on her bottom lip, knowing full well that she didn’t have a lot of money left at the moment, and she almost laughed hysterically. The daughter of a wealthy cattle baron with little money, wearing a crumpled party dress, dragging around a tub filled with damp and wrinkled clothing, and living at a boardinghouse. How ludicrous she must look. No wonder Wes gave her a strange look. “Billy, just take me to Miss Margaret.”

“Whatever you say, Miss April.” He lifted the tub with a groan while Marion opened the door for him and watched as he disappeared down the stairs.

Marion turned to April. “I’m truly sorry for the inconvenience. And please, call me Marion—Miss Stockton sounds
sooo
old.”

Guessing the fact that she was unmarried was a thorn in her flesh, April said nothing but nodded her head. “Agreed, if you will call me April.” She started to leave. “I need to go get changed. Nice to have met you, Marion.”

“I’m sure we’ll run into each other around town. If there’s anything at all you need or if I can help in any way, let me know. Your brother Josh is a very special man.”

Was April imagining it, or did her eyes mist up? She made a mental note about that. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, Marion. I’m a very resourceful person. Good day.” She lifted her skirts, then hurried outside and climbed back into the wagon with Billy. April couldn’t help but notice the disgusted looks cast her way from the same two ladies on the porch twittering behind gloved hands.

Marion watched from the door with a curious look, but April paid her no mind as Billy led his horse and wagon away with a flick of the reins.

8

Margaret helped Louise set the table for supper and listened to Natalie happily humming a tune over the din of the rattling of pots coming from the kitchen. Tonight she and Natalie had a big pot of chicken and dumplings simmering, and she hoped that her daughter kept her mind on the task of dinner; otherwise the dumplings would stick to the bottom of the pan. Margaret was pleased that she had a couple of new boarders—a somewhat retiring young woman with a small baby, and an older couple. It was always better to have more at the table to ensure engaging conversation—and it was good for business.

“Mother, I’m going to go check on dessert. Back in a few moments.” Louise pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen and disappeared.

Margaret watched her daughter hurry into the kitchen and marveled at how conscientious she was. Everything she did must be perfect, whether it was her sewing, helping at church, or helping to run the boardinghouse. Natalie and Louise were entirely opposite in their manner and attitude. Margaret wished she could get Louise to relax and enjoy living more than worrying about every little detail. She knew that Louise could come across as overbearing, but her daughter only desired to please others, to the point of not caring for herself.
I wonder how I can get her to soften
her approach and get her to dress a little less matronly, so some nice
man could penetrate that austere exterior of hers
 
.
 
.
 
.

The front door rattled open and the bell overhead chimed, so Margaret laid down the handful of forks and made her way to the entryway as fast as she was able with the aid of her cane. It was April, looking a little the worse for wear, along with the lad Billy. April’s hair was a mess, and her dress was torn and dirty.

“April! Are you all right?” Margaret touched the sleeve of April’s dress.

April giggled. “Oh, hi, Miss Margaret. Excuse my appearance. I had a little washing to attend to today.” She turned to Billy. “Just set that tub at the door of my room, number 6, at the top of the stairs on the left.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Billy hoisted the tub to his shoulder and started up the stairs.

April turned back to Margaret. “What time is supper? I’ll need to get changed.”

“Indeed you will. We’ll eat at 5:30 sharp. We have several new boarders joining us tonight and I don’t want to keep them waiting, so you’d better hurry on up if you intend to eat with us.” Margaret saw April’s brows knit together in a frown on her pretty face.

“Hmm . . . I guess I may as well. It’d be fun to meet some new people in town, and I have no one else to have dinner with tonight.”

“Yes, I can see that, but I’m sure that will change soon, my dear, when the word gets out that there is a pretty
and
available young lady in town.”

April stared back at her as though she thoroughly agreed with Margaret’s assessment. “You’re probably right. It’ll be a week before my brother returns.”

Billy came back downstairs, taking the steps two at time. He nodded to Margaret and turned to April. “If you decide that you want to go over to Wes’s and pick out a horse, I’d like to go with you. I know a little about horses myself. Just let me know. I’m going on back to the stage depot now.” He stuck his hands in his pockets.

April fished around in her coat pocket, and Margaret saw her distress. Margaret reached into her dress pocket, handed Billy a quarter, and winked at April, who looked relieved.

Margaret wondered if Billy had found a job and a place to sleep, so she decided to just ask him. “Billy, where are you staying?”

He smiled. “Miss Margaret, thanks for asking. Mr. Kincaid is letting me bunk at his place and gave me a job too.” His voice cracked a little with a high pitch, then returned to normal, but he didn’t seem embarrassed by it.

“Ah, that’s wonderful. He will treat you fairly while you’re in his employ, and you’ll learn a lot from him.” Billy was bursting with youthful eagerness, and Margaret was eager to find out more about him but refrained from plying him with too many questions.

“Yes, ma’am! I think he will. I’d love to learn how to drive that team of horses, but he won’t let me . . . at least not yet.” Billy shifted from one foot to the other. “Well, Miss April, if you won’t be needin’ anything else . . .”

April crooked her arm through his and walked him to the door. “Thanks for all your help this afternoon, Billy. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t stepped in to assist me.”

Margaret watched Billy’s face light up as he gazed up at April.

“Shucks, anything you need, Miss April, just let me know. I’d better get back over to the depot now and see what else needs to be done before dark.” He turned, flashing a smile at Margaret. “This is a job that I intend to keep. Good-bye, ladies.” Billy turned to go and winked at Margaret.

“Good-bye, and stop back by anytime, Billy,” she answered, leaning forward on her cane. “Anyone who’s new in our town is entitled to a free supper at the boardinghouse.”

“Is that a fact, Miss Margaret?” Billy paused. Margaret’s eyes flicked over his thin frame.
Yes, he could surely use a good home-
cooked meal and a haircut!

“Of course, my dear boy.” Margaret touched his arm briefly, peering over her spectacles into his warm brown eyes. She noticed fine peach fuzz along his upper lip and jawline.
Soon to be a man
, she thought. “Supper’s always at 5:30.”

“I promise to take you up on that real soon. It sure smells good!” He pulled open the oak door with its lace-curtained window and skipped on down the sidewalk, whistling a tune as April stood on the porch and waved good-bye.

What a sweet attitude he has
, Margaret thought. He reminded her of Albert growing up—a hard worker and full of energy.

“Miss Margaret, I’ll need an iron to press my dress for dinner. Where might I find one?” April asked. She knew better than to ask if there was someone else who could do the ironing for her, since Natalie had already informed her that they were merely a boardinghouse and not a hotel with extra services. She would have to figure some things out on her own. But there was no need to let them know that.

“You’ll find one in the closet at the end of the hallway on the second floor, right down the hall from your room.” Miss Margaret turned to go back to the dining room. “See you at supper, April. I must go finish setting the table.”

April watched the older lady as she tapped her cane against the hardwood floor toward the other side of the house. She must have arthritis like her own grandmother had in her old age. She had to admire that it didn’t appear to slow Miss Margaret down at all. From what she could tell, Miss Margaret was definitely a strong, feisty old lady.

April took out her key and unlocked her door, then dragged her tub of clothes into her room. After several frustrating attempts, she was able to strike a match on the hearthstone and start a decent fire in the fireplace. After retrieving the iron, she set it on the grate to heat while she stripped off her ruined dress down to her chemise. Then she started working on her tangled hair. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. What a sight she was! She’d never looked worse
.
She quickly lifted her mass of hair, and after giving it a swift brushing, she pulled it up into a chignon with the use of her tortoise hair combs. She poured cold water from the pitcher into the bowl on the sink table and splashed her face. The fire radiated nicely, and her skin felt warm.

The iron should be hot now. It looked simple enough. She’d observed her maid ironing before, but she had never
really
paid much attention to how she actually did it. It couldn’t be that hard, could it?

She draped the striped percale dress over the ironing board and touched the fabric with the hot iron, running it up and down along the skirt material, but she wasn’t sure what to do about the folds gathered at the waist. Every time she pressed one fold out, it seemed that she only made matters worse and wrinkled the other folds gathered closely together, causing long creases down the front. How was she going to keep from having so many creases with all those pleats? She had no idea, so she paused to contemplate the problem. Suddenly she smelled scorching fabric and quickly removed the iron to reveal its outline transferred nice and brown onto the blue material.

April muttered an oath. “It’s like trying to saw sawdust—next to impossible!” She decided that it wasn’t too noticeable since it was in the back fullness of the dress. She had never liked women’s work and didn’t suppose she would start now.
Oh well, I won’t be
meeting royalty.

She glanced at the clock and realized she had only minutes to spare. She flicked the hot iron over the worst of the wrinkles and slipped the dress over her head, being careful not to muss her hair. It would have to do. It was too much folderol for her to care one way or the other. She splashed a tiny bit of rose water on her neck and wrists, then stepped back to admire her slender figure with an appraising smile.

Delicious smells led her to the dining room, where the sound of chattering voices greeted her. She was looking forward to meeting the new boarders. But after entering the dining room, April tried to hide her disappointment when she saw who the boarders were.