Robin (10 page)

              She threw the towel into the sink. “No, but at least I knew him.”

              “You’d settle for marriage without love?” John spooned more sugar into his nearly empty cup.

              “And you think advertising for a husband will bring me love?” She tapped her temples with her forefingers. “What are you thinking? What kind of decent man would even consider a wife on those conditions? They’d get out here and see I wasn’t the bargain you made me out to be. Oh yes, I can cook, and I can work hard, but you never mentioned my infirmity, or the fact there was a young child to consider.” She blinked back tears.

              “I thought ya understood, when I sent that there letter askin’ ya to come, what I needed was help around the house.”

              Robin stared at her uncle. “That’s what I’ve been doing, isn’t it? Cooking. Cleaning.”

              John shook his head. “That’s inside the house, Robin. I been doin’ that myself all these years. Don’t need no help with that. I admit it’s been mighty nice to sit down to your good cookin’, and I rightly ‘preciate all the scrubbin’ and dustin’ you been doin’. But you see, girly—it’
s
aroun
d
the house I need help.” He swung his arm in an arc. “Out there. Outdoors. In the yard. Out amongst them hills, lookin’ for strays, huntin’ where all them mama cows done decided to hide their babes. Gatherin’ rock for the fence lines. Things like that.”

              Robin sank to her chair. “You thought I would be able to help you, Uncle John? You believed a girl from Chicago, even without a bad leg, would be able to do all that?”

              “My ma did it ever day.” John wiped his hand across his face. “Reckon it never occurred to me any other gal would find it strange.”

              “Is that what the women who answer the ad will be expected to do?”

              John shrugged. “Reckon so, but don’t rightly know what them men might’ve had in mind.”

              “Are you’re saying the only way you will let me stay on here, and do what I’ve been doing, is if I let you try to get me a husband?”

              “I can’t make you stay, Robin. You’re a woman growed. But you can’t take the boy. That’s final. Not until we know for sure there won’t be someone come ridin’ in a-lookin’ for him.”

              Robin spread her palms on the table. “You have me trapped. You know I won’t leave Jacob here alone, and you won’t let me go unless I leave him. Uncle John, look at me.”

              John ducked his head and stirred his spoon around and around in his empty cup.

              “Look at me, Uncle John. I’m a woman—a living, breathing, human being—not a dozen eggs you can trade or a horse you can sell to the highest bidder. I do not belong to you. Why do you think you can pawn me off on the man who makes you the best offer? Some who-knows-what-kind-of-man hoping to get his hands on a woman and a ranch all in the same deal?” She rubbed her temples. Her head throbbed and she thought she might be sick.

              “Well, tell me this, girl. This fella what asked you to marry him. Was he your beau?”

              Robin stood and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Not a beau, exactly—a very good friend. His name is William Benson, and his father was Papa’s banker.”

              “Well, then he probably didn’t want you for your money.” He chuckled.

              She sighed “I don’t think he wanted me for love, either, Uncle John. At least it was never mentioned.”

              John shook his head. “Never intended for ya to have to marry up with any old body what happened to come along. Mentioned it first off to Ty, seein’ as how he seems to be taken by the boy.”

              “What?” Heat flooded her face and she laid her head on the table.

              “Ty would’ve been a good man for ya, if that Blair women hadn’t showed up when she did.”

              Robin wanted to crawl under the table. He’d talked to Ty about marrying her? And what did the good Reverend have to say about that? She could only guess. Well, she could play this game, too. She would have to pull on every Wenghold bone in her body, but she would not let her uncle get the best of her

              She stood and leaned so close to her uncle she could count his whiskers. “Okay, Uncle John. I’ll stay, but you will not send for a husband. I will learn to do anything and everything you want. But there’s one thing I insist on.”

              John blinked and nodded. “Let’s hear it, girly.”

              “First thing tomorrow morning I’d like to leave Jacob with you and take the buggy to town.”

              “What do you mean? I can’t let you go wanderin’ across this prairie alone.”

              Robin sat and reached for John’s hand. “I drove a horse and buggy every day in Chicago, Uncle John. Papa couldn’t afford a driver, and it frightened Mama so she wouldn’t try. I can drive better than I can walk.”

              “But you don’t even know your way to town.”             

              “Ty told me the first day to stay on the road I could see. I’ll get there without any problem.”

              He squeezed her hand. “I done messed up real good, didn’t I? But I thought with the boy and all you’d be wantin’ a man to help.”

              “I have you, Uncle John. But I do need a woman to talk to. I’d like to go see Emma. But please understand—I’m not looking for a husband. Especially not one you bribed to marry me.”

              She patted his hand, then spun around, and pushed open the door. It slammed behind her, and she sank into the porch swing. Only an occasional flash of lightning in the distance remained of the storm that swept across the hills earlier, but her stomach was twisting and her head was spinning.

              One of Uncle John’s barn cats padded across the porch, casting long shadows in the lamplight that filtered from the kitchen window. It stopped, crouched, then pounced onto the swing beside her and rubbed its head against her thigh. She scooped it up and settled it onto her lap, scratching under the soft chin and stroking the length of the cat’s calico body. Its purr vibrated contentment against her hand.

              Robin laid her head against the high back of the swing and closed her eyes. It had all seemed so simple—agreeing to come to Kansas. She’d keep house for Uncle John and save her money. And when they were able, her two sisters would join her.

              A gust of wind rustled the branches of the lilac bush near the porch and sent a shower of rain droplets cascading around them. The cat shook its head in protest and Robin laughed. “You don’t like that, do you, kitty? Did the cold water interrupt your sweet dreams? Well, guess what. I know how you feel. Uncle John just doused my hopes, too.”

The cat lunged from her lap and scampered down the steps—no doubt off to search for a dry place or to hunt for its breakfast. Robin wrapped her arms around her middle. If it weren’t for Jacob, she would leave, too.

TEN

            
 
The morning sun perched on the hills as John made his way to the barn. In a short time it would begin its climb and bathe the prairie with the scent of warm dirt and dry grasses. John took a deep breath before entering the barn. He loved Kansas summers. The heat soothed his bones. And he could sure use a good soothin’ this mornin’. Considering his conversation with Robin last night, he figured he’d better warn Ty it’d be best if he and that Sam fella rode on to the Hawk before breakfast.

              He probably shouldn’t have told the girl he’d mentioned marriage to Ty. But then, Ty had never given him an answer, so maybe he was still thinking on it. If only that Blair gal hadn’t come back.

              He pulled the big barn door open and tripped over a cat as he entered. “Git, you mangy rattrap. I ain’t gonna milk yet so you can go huntin’ for your breakfast.”

              “You callin’ me a rattrap or are you talkin’ to yourself?” Ty pulled on his boots. “You’re up early. Not hardly even light.”

              “If I’m needin’ good company, I talk to myself. And I know what time it is, young man. I stayed up pert near all night.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and waited while Ty stomped one foot then the other to get his pant legs in place.

              “Don’t suppose Jacob is awake?” Ty brushed the hay from his britches and nudged Sam’s sleeping form with the toe of his boot.

              The stranger groaned, then sat up and rubbed his eyes.

              John nodded at the young man. “Mornin’, Sam. And no, Ty, Jacob’s still sleepin’, leastways he hadn’t come down the stairs yet. And I’m thinkin’ it might be best if the two of you were out of here before Robin gets up.”

              “Is she angry?” Ty tucked his shirt into his pants

              “You best take my word for it and skedaddle on home. Give her a couple of days.”

              “What about Jacob? He’ll wonder why I don’t show up.”

              “I reckon he’ll get used to you not being here so much. I’ll keep him busy. He’s not too young to have a few chores to do.” John grinned. “Bet you cleaned out horse stalls when you was his age, didn’t ya?”

              “You knew my pa.” Ty peered over the stall. “What about you, Sam? You ever muck out a barn?”

              Sam got to his feet and hung the blanket over the stall door. “Pitched more straw in my day than I want to brag about.” He grinned. “Right now I reckon I’d as soon be doing that as going hungry another day.”

              John ran his tongue over his teeth. Common courtesy dictated he feed the two men, but for reasons he couldn’t explain, he thought it best not to be in a hurry for this new fella to get acquainted with Robin or the boy.

              The men finished saddling their horses and led them to the door. “Thanks for the use of the barn, John.” Ty plopped his hat on his head and mounted.

              “Any time, neighbor. You’re welcome any time.” John turned to the stranger. “Good to meet you, Sam. Hope it works out for ya to stay around a spell.”

              Sam shook John’s hand. “I’m mighty obliged to the both of you.”

              “Wait!”

              John whirled at Jacob’s voice.

              “Wait, Ty! Don’t go yet.” The boy ran barefoot, still in his nightshirt.

              Ty hipped around in the saddle. “I thought you were sleeping, buddy.”

              “I got something for you.” Jacob held up his arms and Ty pulled him onto the horse.

              “For me? Now, what do you have for me?”

              Jacob handed him a folded piece of paper. “I made you a picture. But don’t look yet. It’s a surprise.”

            
 
John edged closer to the me
n
. Now where did the kid come up with paper
?
He rubbed his forehead.

              Ty slipped the missive into his shirt pocket. “I surely do thank you. I like surprises.”

              Jacob grinned. “I gotta go back in or Robin will be mad with me.”

              “Well, we certainly don’t need Miss Robin mad, do we?” Ty lowered him to the ground and winked at John.

              Jacob raced ahead and peeked around a porch post as John reached the house.

              “You ain’t hidin’ from me, you know. I can see your eyes.”

              “I’m not hiding. I’m looking.” Jacob pointed.

              John followed the boy’s gaze and caught his breath. The stranger hadn’t moved. Hands crossed on the saddle horn, he peered toward the house.

              “Jacob?” John kept his voice low. “Do you know that man?”

              The boy shrugged. “I don’t think so.” But his gaze didn’t waver.

              “Jacob?” Robin stepped onto the porch. “What are you doing out here in your nightclothes?”

              With Robin’s arrival, the stranger turned and rode after Ty.

              She pulled the boy away from the post and gave him a swat on his behind. “Get upstairs and get dressed. I’m going into town, and you’re going to stay here and help Uncle John today.” She straightened and shielded her eyes against the rising sun. “Who just rode away?”

              “Uh . . . Ty wanted to get on to the Hawk.”

              “That wasn’t Ty, Uncle John. I was at the window when Ty rode off and this guy stayed behind. Do you think he was watching Jacob?”

              John shrugged. “Don’t know what he was a lookin’ at. Ty ain’t no dummy, though. I reckon he knows he stayed behind.”

              “You didn’t tell Ty about your silly idea, did you? You promised, you know.”

              “Nary a word.”

              “What did you do with the ridiculous advertisement? I came down early thinking I would get it before anyone found it.”

              “I thought you had it. Didn’t you take it with you when you slammed out the door?” He was surprised his hat didn’t blow off with the wind he done let fly out of his mouth. He’d deliberately left it on the table, in plain sight, hoping she would rethink the idea.

              “No, I did not take it with me. You’d better find it. You should’ve torn it up last night. I can’t believe you would leave it lying around for anyone to see. What if Ty had decided to come in?”

              “Well, he didn’t, and I don’t reckon Jacob can read, so don’t see no reason for you to get so worked up. Probably find it in some rat-hole. Pesky pack rats will take most anything, you know.”

              Robin wiped her hands on her apron. “Even paper?”

              He was already in so deep he reckoned one more step wouldn’t make a whole lot of difference. “Oh, ‘specially paper. See, they like to hear it crinkle up.” He ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth. Ma always told him if you told a lie a blister would pop up on your tongue and hurt until you confessed.

              Robin pulled a dish towel off her shoulder and brushed a spiderweb from between the porch posts. “I have seen signs of a mouse in the cupboard. Perhaps you’re right. I’ll ask Emma what she does to keep them away. Breakfast is on the table if you’re ready. And since you’re so used to doing the inside work, I’ll leave the cleanup for you. I’d like to get an early start.”

              “You’re sure you want to go to town alone?” He’d welcome a reason to go back to the barn and get the buggy ready. He certainly could use the time to figure out what to do next. Ty needed to know about Sam peering at the boy. But he’d already sent the preacher away with a warning not to show up for a couple of days. And he couldn’t risk taking the boy over to the Hawk with him until he knew for sure what was going on.

              He crossed his arms and stared out over the prairie. If the Good Lord had any mercy, He’d be sending a horde of pack rats about now.

              He didn’t know if Emma would have advice on getting rid of mice—but it’d be worth begging a ride to town to see if she had some kind of concoction for mouth sores.

###

The sun had not yet reached its zenith when Robin climbed out of the buggy in front of Emma’s Mercantile. She had stopped once to allow the horse to drink and another time to soak in the scenery. A meadow of purple and yellow flowers bloomed not far from where Jacob’s mama was buried. She would stop on the way home and gather a bouquet to put on the grave.

              Emma nodded when Robin approached the counter but continued to measure a length of fabric for another customer. Robin smiled in return and busied herself choosing items from her list. She’d wait to ask about the men’s clothing until she and Emma were alone. She’d finish her errand, go to the post office then stop at the train station on the way out. With luck, the ticket agent was on duty, and not the stationmaster.

              The bell above the door jangled when the lady left, and Robin moved to the counter and unloaded her basket.

              “This is why you came to town, dear girl? Two jars of peaches?” Emma’s skirts swished as she rounded the corner and wrapped her arms around Robin.

              Robin’s resolve to remain silent about what had transpired the previous night melted with the embrace, and she buried her head on Emma’s shoulder and wept.

              “I wondered how long it would take you to do this, Robin. Now, you have a good cry; then we can get to the real reason you’re here. I take it John isn’t with you?”

              Robin shook her head. “I made Uncle John stay home.” She hiccupped.

              Emma dug a handkerchief from her sleeve and handed it to Robin. “Oh, dearie, nobody makes John Wenghold do anything he doesn’t want to do. But if you got him to agree to your wishes then you came closer than most.” She laughed and led Robin to a chair behind the counter. “Now, if anyone comes in, slip behind that curtain. There’s no need for the whole town to see your tears. Most every woman that stops here, stops at the post office on the way home. Need I say more?”

              Robin dried her eyes. “Oh Emma, I told myself all the way here that I was a big girl and didn’t need to let another soul know what was happening. And I threatened Uncle John. But I don’t have my sisters to talk to and . . .” Fresh tears coursed down her cheeks.

              “That bad, huh?” Emma sat on a cracker box across from her.

              Robin nodded then told her the story. “. . . And he even had the nerve to suggest to Ty that he marry me. Without me knowing it.”

              “So you drove to town by yourself to purchase two jars of peaches. That’ll show him.”

              Robin wound Emma’s handkerchief around her fingers. “I can’t prove it, but I’m pretty sure the only reason Uncle John ever agreed to have the Wenghold sisters venture his direction is because he promised Papa. I hate being more of a hindrance than a help. And I abhor the thought of paying someone to marry me.”

              Emma patted her cheek. “You have your grandmother Wenghold’s spunk. A lady through and through but worked alongside those men on the Feather like she was a hired man. And those same men adored her. I take it your plan involves a bit more than jars of fruit.”

              “I’m going to purchase two one-way tickets to Chicago for me and Jacob, in case I decide to leave for sure. But I also need some men’s pants and a pair of boots and some shirts.”

              “Men’s? Whatever for––” Understanding came to Emma’s eyes and she slapped her knee. “Oh my lands, Robin. I’ll be able to hear that old man hoot clear in here if you come downstairs some morning wearing men’s clothes. Are you sure you want to do this?”

              “I can’t move fast, and I don’t move with grace. I’ve suffered more than one tumble when my feet got tangled in my skirts when I tried to hurry. He wants a hired man, Emma, but he won’t hire one. So I’ll do the job, even if it means dressing like a man. Will you help me?” Robin stood and put her hands on her hips.

              “I’ll not only outfit you, but I promise to pray every morning, noon, and night. But you have to promise me one thing.” She placed her hands on Robin’s shoulders. “Promise me if he expects more than you’re able to do without hurting yourself, you’ll come scooting right in to me. Will you do that?”

              She smiled. “I’ll come. If I can’t do it, I’ll come. But you have to promise me something in return—not a word of this to anyone. Not to Ty Morgan or Anna Blair, and especially not to Henrietta Harvey.”

              Emma crossed her heart and planted a kiss on Robin’s cheek. “Nary a word, except to Jesus. Him and me is gonna be doing a whole lot of talking, Robin girl. Now, let’s see what we can do about getting you all fixed up—like a man.” She laughed. “Wish I was going home with you, just to see the old codger’s face.”

###

Robin sighed with relief when Albert stood at the counter in the post office and not Henrietta. The bell jangled, and he turned and swiped his hand from one ear to another, captured a stray strand of hair, and patted it into place.

              “Good afternoon, Miss Wenghold.” He nodded in her direction. “I suppose you want your mail?”