A Love of Her Own (8 page)

Natalie smiled at her. “I guess I’m just used to them. I take it that you wear boots most of the time?”

April wiggled her toes. “I certainly do. Boots and my split skirt, though I prefer men’s Levi’s for riding. You should give it a try.” April rubbed her feet. “Tell you what—when the rest of my bags arrive, I’ll let you try a pair. I can’t live without them.” She yawned, stretching her arms overhead.

“I’ll let you get settled. If there’s anything you need, just let me know.” Natalie turned to leave.

“Thank you.” April fished in her purse for some coins and held them out to Natalie.

“Oh, no thanks. I can’t take that. We aren’t running a hotel, and we have no servants. I carried your bag up, knowing you’re tired from the drive, but our boarders are on their own except for meals taken in the dining room.” Natalie reached for the doorknob then paused. “That includes making your own bed. If you choose to eat breakfast here, it’s served at seven, or there’s a couple of cafés within walking distance.”

Louise tapped on the open door as she stepped into the room. “Before I retire, I thought I’d see if Natalie got you all settled in your room.” Louise looked down at April still rubbing her feet. April could tell the elder sister considered herself in charge of the boardinghouse.

“Quite fine, for the time being. I’ll be at the hotel tomorrow.” Louise exchanged a look with her sister. “Very well then. It looks like you could use a warm footbath. Would you like me to send up some warm water? I know that dancing can be hard on the feet.”

April waved her hand. “No, it’s more the shoes than the dancing. I only danced once or twice.”

“If you’re sure . . .” Louise sounded relieved.

April walked the sisters to the door. “Thanks, Louise, but I just want to crawl into bed. It’s been a long day.”

Natalie handed her the key. “Then we’ll just say good night.”

After they left, April quickly shed her clothes, leaving them right where they dropped, and slipped into her nightgown. She was so tired that she couldn’t see straight. Crawling between the crisp linen sheets, she breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the first real bed in two weeks. She wondered how in the world cowboys slept on a bedroll for days on end.

Her mind wandered back to the cowboy she’d met wrangling with the mare earlier. He didn’t seem like the kind of person Josh would have as a friend. Too rough around the edges. Maybe Josh had changed since moving to Montana. He seemed very happy with his pretty bride. She couldn’t wait until they returned from their honeymoon to learn more about how they’d met, and she’d ask about Wes too. It was a pity that her parents weren’t here to see the joyous occasion.

Her eyelids became heavy, and in a matter of minutes she was fast asleep.

It seemed only moments had passed when loud knocking on her door roused her. April pulled herself to a sitting position and blinked. It couldn’t be morning already, but the knocking sounded again.

Irritated, she yanked the covers back, pulling on her robe.

“What . . . who is it?” She stood near the door and listened.

“Dear, it’s Miss Margaret. Are you up?” April heard the older lady say.

Exasperated, April opened the door. “I am now!”

The tiny lady stood leaning on her cane with a patronizing look in her gray eyes that made April feel uncomfortable. “It’s a bit early for a social visit, Miss Margaret. I’ve barely had any sleep.” A whiff of liniment that April found distasteful hung in the air.

“Really? But it’s eleven o’clock now. The sun will warp your ribs if you lay about too long.”

April tossed her hair to one side and smoothed it with her hand. “That’s hardly your concern, now is it?”

Miss Margaret straightened her spine, fingering the lace on her collar. “You’re right, it’s none of my business. But I did want to tell you that the stagecoach got in late last night, and your bags were left at the depot to be picked up. You may need assistance in getting them.”

April could tell from Miss Margaret’s chilly tone that she felt rebuffed. “Sorry. I guess I’m still a bit on the weary side. How did you know they arrived?”

“I saw Leon at Power Mercantile, the general store, this morning. You remember him, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do. I’ll see about getting them sent over today. Now, if you don’t mind . . .”

Miss Margaret backed away and turned to leave, but then paused and tapped her finger to her face in thought. “Oh, there was a young lad there with him, looking for work. Said he knew you . . . I think he said his name was Billy?”

April laughed. “Yes, the sweet kid who rode on the stage with Leon.”

Miss Margaret said quietly, “I think he’s an orphan, but he seems like such a nice young man.” She clucked her tongue. “And him without a mother or father. He said he’d be happy to deliver your bags wherever you wanted them.”

“That would be perfect! How do I contact him?”

Miss Margaret gave her a motherly smile. “I’m not exactly sure, April. Like I said, he was at the general store this morning, but I don’t know if they hired him. I told him to check with the Stockton Hotel too.”

“Thank you, Miss Margaret. I’ll locate him today.”

Miss Margaret nodded with a smile, and April shut the door, leaning against it. Her eyes caught the clock on the secretary. Miss Margaret was right—she had slept most of the morning away. She’d get changed and find Billy. It’d be nice to have some fresh clothes, but for now she’d have to wear the wrinkled yellow dress that she’d worn to the wedding.

Suddenly her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since the stagecoach stopped for lunch the day before. Hmm . . . she’d have to do something about that as well. She wasn’t used to having to
find
her own breakfast. Tilly saw to that. What had Natalie said about a café just down the block?

But first things first. She’d freshen up, then get something to eat and see about getting her belongings sent to the boardinghouse for the time being.

Margaret finished her lunch with her daughters, then retired to the parlor as was her afternoon habit. She wiped her spectacles with the edge of her knitted shawl and picked up her Bible and little brown journal. She flipped the journal open to where she listed all her prayer requests, and with great pleasure she placed a check mark and date next to Juliana’s and Josh’s names. Her prayers had been answered where they were concerned.

Today she decided to make two more entries. She scrawled Billy’s name just under Jane Hood’s name. She’d prayed for Cynthia Hood to find a husband once she’d heard about Jane’s accident.

Now why couldn’t that child walk? Dr. Barnum had said there was nothing physically wrong with her. Which left only one thing—it was a problem in the mind. The child was angry about her father’s death in the mining accident. It was similar to what Juliana had gone through, except for the horrible way Juliana had found her father after many years of separation. But she had come through it all a better and stronger person. Now Margaret had two young people to pray for.

One more name was added to her list, right under her two daughters. April McBride.
That one is going to need some special prayers or
my name is not Margaret! Spoiled little rich girl.
So unlike her brother Josh. One would never have known that he was from a wealthy family in Colorado. He was so gracious and kind. Just perfect for Juliana.

Well, one thing I know for sure, she won’t get her way around
here.
All the more reason she’d pray for April as long as she was in Montana. Margaret laid her journal aside and picked up her Bible. She started reading from Proverbs and then saw April bounce down the front porch and walk down the street in her yellow party gown with a determined look about her. Margaret couldn’t help but chuckle.

April loved how the lush mountain peaks jutted up from behind Lewistown, creating a pleasing backdrop to her visitor’s eye. Not as high as the peaks that she was used to in Colorado, but still impressive. The fresh outdoor air filled her lungs and the sun shone brightly. She was glad for her cape, if for nothing else than to cover her rumpled dress.
Guess I could’ve asked Natalie for an iron.
That would have been the sensible thing to do, but she was in a hurry to get something to eat and then see about her clothes.

She spied a faded sign swinging just ahead of her, boasting Maggie’s Café, and she picked up her steps a little. A delicious whiff of fried chicken assaulted her nostrils, making her mouth water, and her stomach growled so violently that she placed her hand over her waist. Chicken would be just the thing. Reaching for the doorknob, she was suddenly overshadowed by a burly man in a red flannel shirt and suspenders. She noticed an odious smell of perspiration as he leaned over to get the door for her. She paused at first, but he indicated with a sweep of his hand that she should go first, so she nodded slightly and stepped through the doorway.

The lunch hour was a busy one this day, and she scanned the room for a seat, hurrying to get away from the burly man behind her. She located a vacant small table nearest the window, but as she reached it, she saw a gentleman’s hat lying in the chair. It was obviously taken, so she turned away, but as she did she felt a tap on her shoulder.
Please don’t let it be the man in the flannel shirt
 
.
 
.
 
.
Even as hungry as she was, she knew his smell would surely keep her from taking the first bite of food.

When she turned around, she recognized the doctor from the stagecoach. Except now he looked quite spiffy in his gray suit with matching vest and bat-wing tie. Without his hat, she noticed his chestnut hair was parted slightly to the left and combed straight down, which April thought very fashionable for the times.

“April, how good to see you! There’s room at my table.” He motioned to the table where he reached down to lift his hat. “Please, allow me,” he said, pulling the chair out for her.

“Oh, then this was your hat? Well, if you’re sure . . .” She looked up at his eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

“I’m sure. Take a seat.”

April did his bidding, and he pushed her chair in, then took his seat as he laid his hat in the windowsill. She picked up her napkin and started to speak just as he opened his mouth to say something, and they laughed.

“Excuse me, April. You go first.” He smiled and leaned back in his chair.

April let her cape drop to the back of her chair. “I was just going to say that I was starving. I haven’t eaten since I don’t know when.”

Mark returned a dimpled smile. “Oh, I thought you were at the wedding last night.”

“I was, but to tell you the truth, all I saw was cake and punch, when what I needed was a meal. I’m not much on sweets,” she said, unfolding her napkin. Drat! She hadn’t much money on her.

“Ha! That’s what I like, a gal with an appetite!” His laughter reverberated about the room. “And not too shy to admit it!” Mark motioned to the waiter, a skinny young man with thick brown locks falling across his face. “Pete,” he said, taking the menu from the lad’s hand, “we need to feed this lady right now. Give us two minutes and we’ll order.”