Comanche Haven (The Loflin Legacy: Book 1) (21 page)

***

Maggie was in the kitchen putting up
some crabapple preserves when she heard the front door close. “Is
that you, Celia?”

“
Yes, Maggie.” Celia
appeared in the doorway to the large open kitchen with its hanging
pots and great potbellied stove. She laughed lightly as she came
through the doorway. “Do you ever stop?”

“
I plan on doing just that
and, as a matter of fact, right now. Here, have a seat and let’s
have a cup of tea. How’s the mare doing?”

“
She’s mending beautifully.”
Celia settled on the ladder-back chair and smiled broadly. “You
won’t believe what Ty has asked me to do!” Celia’s excitement
showed in her face. “He’s offered me a job. I’ll be looking after
the health of the horses and dealing with those who have an
ailment.”

Maggie’s eyes lifted. “Well now, that’s
a fine thing, a fine thing indeed.” Patting Celia’s hand in a
motherly fashion, Maggie admonished, “You’ve managed to become
quite indispensable around here, my dear. I appreciate your help
with the canning and preserves. Now Ty has you working with the
horses. I’m so pleased.” Maggie reached up into a cupboard above
the battered, old kitchen table and got down two teacups and
saucers. “Here, let me pour you some tea. There’s something I
wanted to talk with you about.” The older woman eyed Celia. “You
know the spring round-up dance is coming up soon.”

“
Oh?” Celia’s face remained
unreadable.

“
Yes and I was planning on
riding into town with Seth on the next supply run to gather some
material for a new dress to wear. I’d like to take you with me and
see about a dress for you as well.”

Celia’s head came up. “But I’m not
going.”

“
Why not, child? It’ll be
great fun. Everybody in the county comes and there’s food,
barbeque, games, and of course dancing. The whole ranch turns out
for it, even the children.”

“
Children? Oh, you mean the
children of the ranch hands. Yes, I can see how they would enjoy
the games and the food.”

“
Well, yes, they do. But I
was referring to the orphan Indian children.” Maggie sipped her
tea.

“
Orphan Indian children?”
Celia repeated like a magpie. She set down her cup. “What are you
talking about? There are orphan children living on the
ranch?”

Maggie nodded.

“
Where?” Celia
asked.

“
Well, the two Mexican girls
I have working in the kitchen take care of three of them. There’s a
little girl of no more than three and two older boys who are around
ten, I’d say. They all live in a small house down by the creek.
Then let’s see, two are old enough to live in the bunkhouse with
the hands. One helps Shorty with the gardening in return for room
and board. Oh, and one sleeps in the barn and helps Henry muck out
the stalls.”

“
Sleeps in the barn!”
Celia’s eyes grew wide. “You mean to say he has no house to stay
in?”

“
Well not a house, but he
has a cot in the loft and…”

“
In the loft!” Celia’s voice
rose as she did. “Of all the…” Celia caught herself before she
could voice her thoughts. Heading for the door, she gave Maggie one
disgruntled glance over her shoulder before opening the back door
and flying out of it in the direction of the barn.

The weathered wood of the old barn
stood out in stark relief against the new green of the grass
spearing up in defiance of the lingering coolness of the nights.
Celia made her way toward the double hung doors which were flung
wide to admit the warm breeze accompanying the noonday
sun.

The glare from the sun cast shadows and
slowed her progress while her eyes adjusted. A horse several stalls
down called out and another answered. The smell of hay and dust
filled the air. Stepping inside the dimly lit interior, Celia
called out. “Seth, Ty, is anybody here?”

The only answer came from the bull.
Celia gave the creature with the massive, jet-black chest a wide
berth. Ty had mentioned his penance for seeing to the heifers
before eating. Celia felt certain all the females were
satisfactorily cared for; otherwise, Bruno wouldn’t be patiently
waiting for his noon meal. Emitting another bellow, Bruno munched
on hay and waited for his grain. She passed his stall. “Easy,
fella, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Sidestepping a cow patty, Celia
continued forward. “Seth, Ty, is anybody around?”

“
Celia?”

“
Yes, Seth, I need to speak
to you.” She heard him coming in from the back doors to the barn.
Unaware he was as close as he was, Celia stopped short. “Oh, you
scared me.” Touching her throat with her fingertips, Celia tamped
down the urge to push him backward as Seth stepped forward. “You
keep doing that.”

“
Doing what?” Irritation
rode across Seth’s features.

“
Never mind...” Celia let
out a huff of exasperation. “I’m glad I found you.”

“
What seems to be the
problem?” Seth stepped into the sunlight filtering through one of
the loose boards above in the loft. With his long jean clad legs
planted in a serious stance, he eyed her coolly. “Look I have
things to do.” His gloved hand gripped the lasso he held and struck
his thigh with impatience.

Celia sucked in air. She cut him a hard
look. Promising herself she would make her point, Celia raised her
chin a fraction and squared her shoulders. “Do you have a young
Indian boy living and working in this barn?”

Seth blinked. “You mean Joseph?” With a
growl of frustration, Seth swept his hat from his head and wiped
the sweat from his brow with the back of his shirtsleeve. “I’m up
to my eyeballs in work out back, and you want to know about Joseph.
What is this, some kind of joke?” Knocking the dust from his hair,
Seth repositioned his Stetson and glared at her.

She fisted her hands much like she’d
seen him do and shifted her hip in what she thought of as an
authoritative stance. “I can appreciate your schedule, Mr. Loflin,
but I fear you may have overstepped your authority by housing a
young orphan boy in such deplorable conditions as this barn.”
Waving her arms widely for emphasis, Celia glared straight at
him.

Seth simply stared at her, his cool
blue eyes as icy as a north wind in January.

Under such close scrutiny, Celia
determined she needed to firm her position and crossed her arms,
while her booted toe tapped a rapid tattoo in the mix of dirt and
hay on the barn floor.

With a smile Seth never
intended to reach his eyes, he took in a deep breath. “Overstepped
my authority? Is that what you think I’m doing now?” His mouth slid
into a hard, thin line and he took another step toward her. “This
is
my
ranch
and
I’m
in charge
here. Things go according to what I decide. If I need someone to
bunk in the barn and watch out for predators, then that’s my
prerogative.”

“
Your prerogative indeed!”
Celia huffed out another breath and peered around the barn. “Where
is he? Where is this boy? I want to see him for myself.” Celia’s
fists landed on her hips and this time she took a step
forward.

“
For Christ sake!” Seth
smothered a cruder oath and wished fervently he could hit
something. Striding to the ladder positioned against the loft, Seth
looked up and called, “Joseph? Joseph…”

“
Sir?” The voice of a child
answered in English.

“
Get down here. There’s
somebody here to see you.”

The small feet appeared first. His
ankles resembled a girl. Shimming down the ladder to stand beside
Seth, the boy called Joseph peered up at Celia with large almond
shaped eyes. He barely came to Seth’s elbow. Barefoot and wearing a
pair of pants much too large for his small brown frame, the boy
resembled the ragamuffins Celia remembered seeing scurrying about
the alleyways of Charleston. His dark eyes hid beneath long hair
which badly needed a trim. Dirt smudged the straight nose while
cautious black eyes stared hauntingly at Celia now. There was a
pain in their depths Celia recognized right off.

“
Boss?” Joseph turned with a
quizzical eye for Seth.

“
Joseph, tell this lady what
your job is here.” Seth jutted a finger in Celia’s
direction.

He’s referred to Seth as ‘Boss’. With a
one-word question, Celia understood this was no mere child, but a
lost soul inside the remains of what had once been a child.
Joseph’s mouth set in a line. No expression flitted across his
features. Those eyes were deep and dark like the soul of an owl who
knew more than was wise. He wore no shoes and no coat, though, the
weather hadn’t warmed to the point one could go all the time
without them, Celia mused. He was thin and liberally covered in
dirt. Celia realized she was surprised to hear him speak in
English. Her heart immediately went out to him.

Looking directly at Celia, Joseph spoke
clearly. “I watch for critters and kill them or call for help when
there’s trouble from something like cougars.”

She latched on to the boy’s words.
“Cougars? You’re to watch out for Cougars?” With a quick mental
assessment of the young boy’s responsibilities, Celia found herself
wondering aloud about the boy’s ruff condition. “My word. When was
the last time you had a bath, Joseph?”

The boy took a protective step back and
shook his head decisively. The mere mention of such a thing brought
out a muteness tone in his voice. “Joseph don’t need no
bath.”

With a defiant thrust to his chin,
which Celia found endearing, Joseph sliced the air between them
with his slender hand. She recognized the Comanche hand signal
representing rejection. Valiantly trying to keep her lips from
twitching, Celia forced her mouth into a flat line. Turning to
Seth, who’d been watching the exchange between the two combatants,
Celia asked flatly, “You’re not going to stand there and tell me
that you condone this, are you?”

Stoically, Seth regarded her before
answering in the same flat tone. “I do. Joseph is just fine. He
takes care of things in his own time.” Seth’s own features gave
away nothing. “Your concern is unwarranted. Besides, I don’t see
this is any of your business. Now if you wouldn’t mind, I have
things to do.”

“
Just a minute...” Celia had
to step quickly to follow him when he turned and headed back the
way he’d come. His great strides ate up the ground in short order.
“How dare you turn and dismiss me with that kind of answer. The boy
needs proper care and attention, not a job requiring him to live in
a barn and fight cougars. How can you sanction this kind of
situation and of all places on your land?”

He kept walking.

“
Seth Loflin, do you hear
me?” She was only two steps behind him, so when he pulled up short
and wheeled on her, Celia wasn’t prepared.

His face was right above hers. “Don’t
turn this on me. I’m not the enemy. Do you hear me?” He ground out
the next words with far more passion than he’d shown only moments
earlier. His hand snaked out and his fingers dug into her elbow.
His eyes bore into her face. “Who do you think brought the boy
here? Why do you think I brought him? The job gives him a sense of
purpose, which he needed when I found him. Christ, if you want
somebody to lash out at, why don’t you try the sons-of-bitches who
left him and his brothers huddled in the rubble of their village
watching as their mother burned to death in their teepee.” Seth’s
gloved finger shot out and punctuated the air.

Celia jumped despite
herself.

“
Those are the bastards who
need your attention, not me…”

Celia couldn’t speak though the fury
she’d fostered still raged. Tears welled in her eyes, but she swore
she’d die before she let them fall. She felt his grip on her arm
and the audible silence all around them as Seth’s breathing
leveled.

Having said his peace, Seth swore under
his breath. Without a backward glance, Seth released her and
stalked off.

Embarrassment crept up her
neck. Glancing around, she was glad when she found no one in sight.
She’d been quick to assume he’d brought the boy to the ranch to
make use of his misfortune. Had she wanted to think the worst of
Seth? The unease in the pit of her stomach curdled, making her want
to go after him to try to apologize. He hadn’t deserved the
innuendo she’d pinned on him. Celia stood watching him go.
Couldn’t they at least stop with the
accusations?
She retraced her steps to
within the back door of the barn.

Joseph stood where they’d left him
carefully watched the ground. His shoulders were hunched and he’d
jammed his small hands in the pockets of those baggy pants. The
flickering glance he sent Celia from under his lanky hair spoke
volumes.

Again, her heart went out to him. She
knew about lose, knew how the memories could creep up on you at the
oddest moments to snatch your breath and leave you with nothing but
a longing you couldn’t fill. Whatever the circumstances which had
brought him to the ranch, Joseph was there and he didn’t need her
criticizing his living conditions. Stepping toward the young boy,
Celia spoke softly, “I’m sorry, Joseph. I think I need to start
over. My name is Celia. You may have heard I lost my family
recently as well. I know how hard it can be. I don’t mean you any
harm. I’d like to be your friend.”